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Hawkins was an underkeeper at The Yellow House, the private lunatic asylum they’d rescued Jane from.
“I’ll speak with her tomorrow,” Nick said. “Find out more about her circumstances. Then we can find a safe place for her to go. Although Patrick’s gone to Brighton with his family, so he won’t be able to help forge her papers.”
“We’ll think of something,” Lear replied. “The main thing is to keep her hidden for now.”
They rode in silence for a few moments.
“How’s Sally, by the way?” Nick asked Lear.
“In my bed as we speak, waiting for me to come home.” Lear smirked. “Has expensive tastes, your Venus. Had to buy her another bauble yesterday. But she’s well worth the price. Won’t cry when I leave though, Sally. Has a heart as hard as marble, she does. Probably already has her eye on the next prize.”
That was the problem. Alice was too tenderhearted. Nick couldn’t give her any reason to care for him.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
“Sally says you’ll fall in love with your wife. She said she’s seen it happen too many times to count.”
“Never,” scoffed Nick. “That’s an impossibility.”
“Why? You’ve married her, may as well settle down like your friends Osborne and Harland. Become a family man.”
“Lear. We’ve known each other for at least seven years. Have I ever given you the impression of a man who might ever consider settling down?”
“Not until your wife tied you in knots,” Lear said with an unrepentant grin. “I never saw you so eager to please anyone as the morning of your wedding.”
“Because I needed to keep my house.”
That’s why he’d married her. Plain and simple.
“If that’s what you need to believe, old boy.”
Why did everyone keep saying those words to him? Was he deluding himself somehow?
“So,” Lear gave him a sly look. “How’s wedded life treating you thus far?”
The tart scent of lemons rose in his mind with a clarity that drove everything else away. Alice in the kitchens, steam flushing her cheeks pink, his kiss leaving her lips swollen and red-tinged.
“Never mind,” Lear laughed. “Don’t answer that question. Your foolish grin is the only answer I need.”
Nick groaned. “This has to end, Lear. I’m losing my edge.”
“What has to end?”
“This obsession I’ve developed for my wife. Ever since our engagement, I haven’t even wanted to look at another woman. And I have these terrible, nearly uncontrollable urges to wear flannel waistcoats, smoke a pipe, and read sentimental novels.”
Lear chuckled. “Not novels.”
“Laugh all you want but this is serious. I’ve never been this strung up before. I feel as though...” he paused. “Did I just start to tell you about my feelings, for Christ’s sake? Kill me now.” He closed his eyes. “Just end it all now.”
“Said you were in trouble, didn’t I?” Lear chuckled. “I could see it the moment I met the lady. She’s a magnificent creature, your new wife.”
That was it.
She was so much more than he had bargained for.
Nick had sworn he’d seen Alice’s slim figure disappearing down the street ahead of them as he and Lear had crossed King Street earlier.
He’d had to fight the urge to chase after the lady, who couldn’t possibly have been Alice because she’d been holding the hand of a small child in a straw hat with ribbons streaming down her back.
