Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper 1)

It felt as if I were watching through someone else’s eyes the events unfolding before me.

Aunt Amelia sat at the head of the table, a queen holding court during her royale tea. Liza sat on my right while the esteemed Victoria Edwards sat on my left, her button nose turned permanently upward.

A royale tea was different from high tea in that it began with a glass of champagne and did not include supper. That much I remembered. Sandwiches, savories, scones, and sweets were laid out across the table, more riches and delicacies than all of Nathaniel’s favorite imported cheeses and fine foods combined.

Uncle’s arrest was responsible for my nerves, making me forgetful. It had been only a few months since I’d last attended such a formal tea. And though I didn’t care for them, I wasn’t normally so distracted.

I stirred my tea then set my spoon behind my cup, as was proper.

Victoria turned to me, a slight smile fixed to her face. “I’m so sorry to learn of your uncle, Audrey Rose. Must be quite difficult having such a ruthless criminal in the family.”

I’d just taken a bite of a cucumber sandwich and barely swallowed my surprise down. Liza jumped in, rescuing me with her quick tongue.

“Such a shame. If they can accuse someone as brilliant as our uncle, surely they can accuse just about anyone. Perhaps”—she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper—“they’ll set their sights on members of Parliament next. It’d make for a rather sensational story, wouldn’t you agree?”

Up until that last point Aunt Amelia had been smiling and nodding, proud of her daughter’s appropriate response. When Liza flashed a grin my way, my aunt’s face turned a furious shade of red. She straightened, then dabbed at her mouth with a lace napkin we’d undoubtedly stitched.

“Now, girls”—she glanced between us—“let’s not allow our imaginations to get away from us. We shouldn’t gossip or speculate on such matters. It isn’t polite.”

“But it’s true, Mama,” Liza insisted, garnering curious gazes from around the table. “Some royals are under suspicion. It’s all everyone in London’s talking about.”

Aunt Amelia looked as if she’d swallowed an egg whole. After a moment, she threw her head back and laughed, a sound more forced than her thin smile. “See? This is precisely why speaking of such things is a waste of time and energy. No royal would truly be under suspicion. Now, who’d like more tea?”

Victoria, displeased by the turn in conversation, faced me a second time. “You look rather pretty this afternoon, Audrey Rose. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure what we’d been invited to. Given all the rumors swirling around about your association with that strange assistant of your uncle’s. What’s his name? Mr. Cresswell?”

Another girl, whose name I thought was Hazel, nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard about him from my brother. Says he’s got as much feeling as an automaton.” She smiled wickedly. “Though I’ve heard he’s quite good looking. And his family does have a title. He can’t be all bad.”

“Mr. William Bradley told me he’s got his own flat on Piccadilly Street,” Regina added, looking pleased to involve herself in the conversation. “Honestly, what kind of parents allow their son to live on his own before he’s come of age? I don’t care how rich they are, it isn’t proper.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised to discover he’s killed those… women… and hid their bodies away. Maybe Liza’s right. Maybe Dr. Wadsworth is innocent and it’s Mr. Cresswell who’s truly the madman. I bet he’s got a slew of unsavory women coming and going there. He might be heir to a good fortune, but who’d marry such an odd fellow? He’d probably murder his own wife.”

“Be serious,” I said before I could stop myself. “Because he’s interested in science hardly makes him a murderer or automaton. In fact, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Thomas. I find him to be quite agreeable.”

“Mind your tongue, Audrey Rose!” Aunt Amelia fanned herself. “Addressing a boy by his Christian name is inappropriate. Especially when you’re not involved.”

If I thought my aunt was upset before, this was a whole new level of emotion. How quickly her tea had turned into discussions of the macabre and impolite.

I held my eye roll in. At least tea was more interesting than I imagined it’d be. The other girls quickly lost interest in Thomas Cresswell and the “tragic and disturbing” murders affecting the lower-class slums.

Conversation moved to more suitable afternoon tea subject matters. Like who was going to be invited to the duke’s coming-of-age masquerade in six months.

“You simply must come!” Victoria was saying to me, threading her arm through mine as if we were already the very best of friends and she hadn’t just called my uncle a murderer. “Everyone who’s important will be there. If you want the right people attending your party, you’ll need to make an effort to attend theirs. I hear he’s even hired a spiritualist to perform a séance.”

As the afternoon wore on, I watched them, noting the role they were all playing. I doubted any of them truly cared about what they were saying and felt immensely sorry for them. Their minds were crying out to be set free, but they refused to unbind them.

Hazel leaned across the table, catching my attention. “Your dress is absolutely divine! Would you be terribly bothered if I had one made like it?” When I didn’t respond straightaway she amended, “In different colors, naturally. It’s just the design is so gorgeous!”

r /> “If William Bradley doesn’t fall to his knees, proposing at first glance,” Regina said, smearing a scone with curd and cream, “he’s a fool and you need to leave him at once.”

Hazel sighed dramatically. “But he’s a fool with a title. You really think he’d propose if I wore a similar gown?”

“How could he not?” I teased, holding back laughter at her serious expression. “Surely boys are interested in proposing only to girls in lacy gowns. Why care about beauty and brains when they can have beauty over brains? Foolish creatures they are.”

Hazel drew her brows together. “Why ever would a girl choose anything over beauty? A wife should abide by her husband in all matters. Let him do the thinking.” Both Regina and Hazel nodded at that dreadful sentiment before Hazel continued. “Anyway, you truly are the sweetest thing, Audrey Rose. Will you be attending the circus when it comes to town?”

Perhaps I’d been wrong in my earlier judgment. It seemed it’d take a little more time for some girls to free themselves from chains society placed upon them. I bit my lip, thinking of a response that wouldn’t offend them further.

Victoria, abandoning her conversation with my cousin and aunt, clapped her hands together. “Oh, yes! You simply must join us. We’ll coordinate our attire and everything. People won’t know who to look at first, the performers, or us!”

My aunt nodded her encouragement from across the table, her expression threatening something more unpleasant than even Leather Apron could dream up.