Page 25 of Every Hour until Then (Timeless #5)

25

November 8, 1888 London, England

I looked at my reflection in the mirror as the hall clock struck seven chimes the next day. Mother had insisted that I go shopping with her and had found one excuse after the other to keep me away from home, which made me suspect that Father had told her about Austen.

As Duffy finished styling my hair for supper, I wanted to go to Austen, but my parents were expecting me in the dining room. This would be my last meal with them. My final good-bye. I would miss them, but I’d known for years that I wasn’t going to stay. Our relationship wasn’t warm or affectionate. On the contrary, I’d always felt more like part of a business than a family. Every decision made was for the prosperity and positioning of the family. And as easily as they had pushed my sister out of their lives, I wasn’t too concerned that it would take them long to push memories of me out, either.

Though it didn’t make saying good-bye any easier.

It would be a quick supper, and then I would feign illness and sneak out of the house to spend the final few hours with Austen as we went to Miller’s Court to save Mary. It was all I could think about.

“You look beautiful,” Duffy said as she stepped back to admire her work. “It’s a shame that Mr. Baird can’t see you like this.”

I met her gaze in the mirror, thankful for her loyal support, and smiled my appreciation.

She nodded and then busied herself with putting away my toiletries as I left my room.

I was wearing one of the green gowns that Austen had so often admired. I contemplated changing before we left for Miller’s Court, but it wouldn’t matter what I was wearing tonight. I didn’t need to blend in to save my sister. I had a satchel packed for Mary to take with her to New York, and in it was a fashionable gown she would wear on the ship. I wanted both of us to look our best as we said good-bye to each other in Southampton.

As I drew closer to the downstairs parlor, conversation filtered out, surprising me. A man’s voice lifted above the others, making me pause.

It was the voice of Michael Maybrick.

My pulse picked up speed as I began to suspect what my parents had planned. Mother had been anxious all day, and Father had come home early from the hospital. They hadn’t told me that Mr. Maybrick was coming, so they intended to surprise me.

If I went into the parlor now, I would be cornered. It wouldn’t be a quick supper. It would take hours, and then I’d be expected to entertain Mr. Maybrick long into the evening.

Austen and I planned to get to Miller’s Court by nine. From everything I’d researched, there were different accounts as to Mary Jane Kelly’s last appearance, but most believed she was killed between one and seven in the morning on November 9th. We wanted to get her away from there after dark so we wouldn’t draw as much attention, but not wait too long for the possibility that Jack might be watching. We couldn’t risk him following us and knowing where we had sent Mary.

Mr. Maybrick’s arrival could potentially change all our plans.

Slowly and as quietly as I could, I turned on my heels and retreated the way I’d come, reentering my bedroom moments after I’d left.

“Did you forget something?” Duffy asked as she looked up from the dress she was brushing.

“I’m suddenly not feeling well,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely untrue. “I think I might be getting a migraine.”

Duffy frowned as she set down the brush and came to me. “You haven’t had one of those in a long time.”

“I’d like to lie down,” I said as I moved toward the bed.

“Shall I help you change into a nightgown?” She pulled the bedding down so I could sit on the mattress.

“Not now. I just need darkness and quiet. Perhaps I’ll feel better in an hour or so.”

Duffy nodded as she helped me into bed.

It wasn’t easy to maneuver in a corset and petticoats, and if I’d had a real headache, I would have wanted to get into my nightclothes, but I didn’t have time to change and then try to dress myself afterward.

Hairpins poked my scalp as she pulled the covers up to my chin. “Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like me to get the headache powder?”

“No. I just want some quiet. Please turn out the lights and then give my regrets to my mother.”

Duffy paused, uncertainty in her gaze. She wouldn’t want to be the one to tell my mother I wasn’t going to supper, but she had no choice.

She turned out the lights and then slipped out of my room.

It was dark, and the silence echoed in my ears. I knew that within minutes, my mother would come into my room and demand that I join them, so I needed to be ready. Once she was satisfied that I was unable to sit through supper, she’d leave me for the rest of the night and not check on me.

The clock ticked away the seconds as I lay waiting. My mind filled with dozens of memories of my life in this path, both the good and the bad, and emotions clogged my throat. I would miss it, and not only because I was leaving Austen and Mary. There was a lot I loved about 1888.

Less than five minutes later, my door opened, and a swath of light crossed my bedroom floor. I quickly closed my eyes and did my best to look ill.

“What is the meaning of this, Kathryn?” Mother asked as she strode across the room, the hem of her gown swishing against the carpet.

I moaned just slightly and said, “Please keep your voice down. My head is splitting.”

“You’ve been fine all day. And look at you—dressed for supper. When did this headache begin?”

“Not long ago,” I said as I put my hand up to my head, trying to cover my eyes from the hall light. “It hit me like lightning, and I feel sick to my stomach.”

Again, I wasn’t lying, but my nausea was more from Mr. Maybrick’s arrival than from a headache.

“I won’t stand for this,” she said as her foot tapped the floor. “Mr. Maybrick is in the parlor, expecting to spend the evening with you. He’s a very busy man, and his schedule is full of obligations. He finally found a night to join us, and you’re not going to be there?” Her voice had raised a notch. “What will I tell him?”

“The truth,” I said as I tried to roll over, away from her. My legs got tangled in my petticoats, making it almost impossible, and my corset pinched. “I’m too ill to dine with anyone tonight. I just want to be left alone.”

She stood for several moments, breathing deeply, and then said, “Fine. But you will agree to make up for this inconvenience at his leisure.”

I didn’t respond.

As she left the room, I felt sadder than I expected, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to properly say good-bye to her or Father.

I waited for a few minutes, then got up and gathered the things I had been preparing for tonight. It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted, and I knew where everything was located. I had snuck into Mary’s room several times that week to pack a satchel for her. I’d hidden it under my bed, so I had to get on my hands and knees to pull it out now. I would wear a dark cloak and bring one for Mary, as well. I had a few pieces of valuable jewelry and took the few that were still in Mary’s room and put them in a velvet pouch for her to sell. Austen had already purchased her ticket for New York and had insisted that we didn’t need to pay him back, but I didn’t expect him to give her money for her other expenses.

As soon as I had everything together, I quietly left my room, praying I wouldn’t bump into anyone in the hallway.

The satchel was bulky, and my skirt and cloak were heavy as I maneuvered down the servants’ stairs. My pulse was pounding so hard in my ears, I was afraid I might not hear a subtle noise that would alert me to someone’s presence. I just needed to get into the courtyard and sneak through the hedge, and then I would be free.

When I came to the door that led into the servants’ hall, I knew this would be the hardest place to pass without being seen. The footmen would be walking through with dishes sent up from the kitchen, on their way to the dining room. I had to plan it just right, and then rush through with all haste.

I pressed my ear against the door, and hearing no movement, I opened it slightly just as a man passed through.

Pausing, I waited as sweat dripped down my back.

When he had gone by, I stepped into the hall and ran toward the back door.

The night air was blessedly cool as I stepped outside. But heavy, ominous clouds covered the moon and stars, making it difficult to see.

Thankfully, I knew my way.

As I moved through the garden, the shape of a man suddenly appeared as he stepped onto my path—and without warning, we collided.

I lost my footing and fell on my backside as the satchel flew out of my hands. I let out a startled scream, but it was quickly choked by fear.

The man stared down at me, and my heart sank as I recognized Michael Maybrick.

“Miss Kelly,” he said.

“Mr. Maybrick—I-I thought you’d be eating supper.”

“I had a feeling that’s what you thought.” He stood over me, his dark silhouette appearing larger than ever, not offering to help me up. “It looks like you’re leaving for an extended visit.”

I glanced at the satchel, just out of reach.

“Your father told me that Baird has been taking up a lot of your time lately,” Mr. Maybrick continued, “and that if I didn’t act soon, I might miss my opportunity. Given our last interaction, I had misgivings about trying again.” He looked toward the house and then back at me. “If I’m not mistaken, it looks like I’m about to miss my opportunity entirely. And, if my guess is correct, no one in the house knows you’re leaving to meet Baird.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

He squatted to get close to me, and I backed away.

“I could pick you up right now and carry you away,” he said with a strange chuckle, as if he was trying to make a joke, though it sounded too sinister to be funny. “No one would be the wiser.”

My entire body trembled at his words. “Wouldn’t my parents suspect something if you didn’t return to supper?”

“I left as soon as your mother told me that you wouldn’t be joining us. They think I’ve gone home. But I decided to wait out here to see if you would make an appearance.” He stood, towering over me again. “You know, it’s not safe to be out at night alone. Especially with Jack the Ripper on the loose. There’s no telling what might happen to you.”

My breath stilled as a new thought filled my heart with terror.

Was Michael Maybrick Jack the Ripper? Had he been working with the Freemasons?

“Cat got your tongue, Kathryn?” he asked as he reached down and picked up my satchel.

I had a choice to make. Every moment I waited was a moment I might lose to save my sister. Whether Mr. Maybrick was Jack or not, I needed to get Mary out of there. I had no proof or reason to think he was Jack, except that he was a Freemason, and his very presence made my skin crawl.

I stood without his help and said, “Please hand that back to me. It is none of your concern what I’m doing or where I’m going.”

He stared at me for a moment, and then he slowly held out the satchel.

I took it and brought it close to my chest.

“You’re all the same,” he sneered. “No better than my sister-in-law, Florence. Sneaking around, lying to the people you’re supposed to love. You’ll hurt your father, just as Florence has hurt my brother, James. She’ll pay, just as you will.”

I stared at him, confused and uncertain. Why was he talking about his sister-in-law? And then I recalled the file I’d found in Sir Rothschild’s drawer several weeks ago about the trial of Florence Maybrick. She was accused of poisoning her husband just two days from now, and Michael would be the loudest accuser at her trial.

Would he set her up?

“I should tell your father what you’re doing,” he continued before I could grasp what he meant about Florence. “But I think I’d rather watch you suffer because of your own foolishness. You won’t get far, Miss Kelly. None of you do.”

And with that portending comment, he strode out of the courtyard, toward the alley.

A shiver ran up my spine as I raced to the hedge.

We needed to get Mary out of Whitechapel immediately.

The moon was hidden behind a bank of clouds as Austen’s carriage came to a stop on Dorset Street, not far from Miller’s Court. I was still upset from my encounter with Michael Maybrick, though I had chosen not to tell Austen about it. What could he do? We were already on edge because we were about to change history and rescue my sister.

Austen held my hand, and I squeezed his back. “I wish you weren’t here with me,” I whispered, my pulse racing.

“I would never let you do this alone.”

“But you’re changing history, too.”

He silenced me with a kiss and then said. “I’m fulfilling my destiny, Kate.”

I shook my head and took a deep breath. “I pray we can save her.”

“She has you, me, and Miles working on her behalf. We will see that she gets out of Whitechapel.”

“I hope you’re right.” I glanced at the ceiling of the carriage for a heartbeat, also hoping and praying that God would forgive me for what I was about to do. I couldn’t knowingly allow my sister to die. It wasn’t right. I had to believe He understood that.

The street was dark, but people were still walking along the road and conducting business at the grocers, the coffee house, and other buildings nearby. Austen held the door open for me, and I stepped out, staying close to him as we walked toward Miller’s Court for the last time. He carried the satchel I had packed for my sister.

Every shadow felt ominous, and every person was a suspect. Was Jack already here? Watching? Miles had brought a pistol and would wait in the carriage, ready for us to leave the moment we got inside.

A man and woman stood in the passageway, speaking in low, suggestive tones. At first, I thought it was Mary, but as we passed, I realized it was someone else.

Austen kept his arm around my shoulder, and mine was around his waist, not only for protection but also reassurance.

When we came to number 13, there was a soft glow through the window. My pulse was racing so hard and fast, I could hear it in my ears. It almost drowned out all the other noises.

Austen knocked on the door as a shadow passed behind us, making the hair rise on my neck. A man walked slowly out of the darkness. He was wearing a peaked hat, like the one I’d seen on Jack on Berner Street. Austen’s arm tightened around my shoulder, and his entire body became rigid. He, too, was carrying a loaded pistol. He handed me the satchel and then slipped his free hand inside his coat.

The man passed without a word, walking toward the passageway.

“We need to hurry,” I said to Austen, panic raw in my voice.

Austen knocked on the door again.

Was Mary not in her room?

Real terror filled my heart. Had Jack already been there?

A moment later, Mary opened the door, her eyes wide with fear.

Relief weakened my legs as I reached for her. “It’s time,” I said. “I’ve brought you clothes to change into.”

“I’ll wait out here,” Austen said. “But hurry.”

I entered Mary’s room, hating to leave Austen alone but knowing there was no other option.

After I closed the door, I turned to Mary. She clasped her hands together as she paced to her fireplace.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “We can’t waste a single moment.”

“It’s—” She paused and then shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

“Good.” I set the satchel on the table and opened it to pull out the clothing I’d brought for her. “We must hurry.”

Mary undressed and folded her clothing, setting it on the chair in a neat pile. I realized with sudden clarity that it was the pile of clothes in the exhibit at Lancaster House.

I pushed thoughts of the exhibit and everything else aside.

Tonight was about Mary.

I had brought everything she’d need, from undergarments to a cape. I helped her change as quickly as I could, horrified at how much weight she’d lost. Her clothing hung on her frame, shocking me because I’d always thought Mary was thin. Now she was skeletal.

As she dressed, I listened for signs that Austen was in trouble or in distress, but everything outside remained silent.

I was sweating by the time we were done, not because the work was hard, but because I’d never been so scared in my life.

“Come,” I said as I reached for her hand.

Mary started to lift her clothes off the chair, but I shook my head. “Leave them. Leave everything. It’s time to forget about this part of your life.”

I stepped over to the lamp, and before I blew it out, I caught Mary looking at her room one last time.

With a quick inhale and exhale, I extinguished her light, grabbed the satchel, and then opened the door.

For a heartbeat, I was afraid Austen was gone—but then he appeared out of the shadows, and I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.

“Ready?” he whispered.

I nodded and then ushered Mary out of her room as I quietly closed her door behind me.

Austen took the satchel, and the three of us went down the passageway. The couple had left, but a man was walking toward us. Again my pulse skittered, but he passed us without a word.

The carriage was still waiting. Miles jumped off the driver’s seat and opened the door for us as we approached.

“Make all haste,” Austen said as Mary climbed in first and I followed.

The moment Austen stepped into the carriage and closed the door, I finally let out a breath.

Yet our night had only just begun.

It was almost midnight when our train finally arrived on the outskirts of Southampton. The ship taking Mary to New York would leave at first light, and boarding had already begun at the pier, not far from Southampton Central Railway Station.

I sat on a red velvet bench with Mary as we faced Austen and Miles on the opposite bench. Austen had rented a private compartment, and his coachman had come along for protection. As we’d ridden from London to Southampton, I’d quickly realized they were not merely employer and employee, but friends.

Mary’s small hand was in mine, but neither of us spoke as the train began to slow. Weeks of planning did not prepare me for this moment. Or what I might say to her, knowing I’d never see her again.

I was still reeling from the night’s events, trying to wrap my mind around all that had happened. Mary had been silent since we’d left Whitechapel. She needed a bath, but her red hair had been combed and styled as best as we could manage. I wondered what was on her mind, and wished she could leave the memories behind as easily as she’d left her clothes.

Austen’s gaze was on me as the train began to slow. With Mary and Miles nearby, I could not say what I longed to say. We had already changed history by taking Mary away from Miller’s Court, so this wasn’t just good-bye to her, it was also good-bye to Austen and to 1888.

I hoped and prayed he wouldn’t forfeit his life for helping me. I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.

He finally tore his gaze from mine and said to Miles, “I booked passage under the names Mr. and Mrs. Miles Fremont.” He took an envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it to Miles. “To keep up appearances, I rented one cabin for you to share. I trust it goes without saying that Mary will have the berth and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

Miles took the envelope and gave his friend a look that said it was more than unnecessary to tell him.

I sat up straighter on the bench as Mary’s hand tightened around mine. “Miles is going with Mary?” I asked.

“I thought it best.” Austen turned his attention to me again. “We need to make sure that she gets to her new life safely.”

Mary began to tremble as she looked across the compartment to Miles. A man she hardly knew, other than by name and sight.

He looked back at her, his brown eyes softening. “I hope you don’t mind the company, Miss Kelly. I will ensure you arrive safely in New York. You have my word.”

Mary swallowed and nodded, though there was apprehension in her eyes. I wished there was another way, but knowing that Miles would be with her put my heart at ease.

If only a little.

When the train came to a stop, we were ushered off by a porter.

“I think it’s best if we say good-bye to them here,” Austen said to me as he handed Mary’s satchel to Miles. “Miles will see that Mary gets to the ship safely.”

There were still several hours before the ship would leave the harbor, but it would look less suspicious if they went alone.

And I wanted time with Austen to say our good-byes.

I was still holding my sister’s hand, so I paused and turned to face her. “There are several pieces of jewelry inside the bag,” I whispered. “Hopefully, it will be enough to help you along until you begin to earn an income.”

Mary’s green eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her arms around me. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too.” My voice caught. A little over a year ago, I wouldn’t have even imagined this night was possible.

“I’ll write.”

“Perhaps it’s safer if you don’t,” I said. “Miles will get word to us if need be.” Though I wouldn’t be here to receive it. I couldn’t tell Mary that. Not now. Not this way.

Austen put his hand on my back. “It’s time.”

I squeezed Mary harder. “I love you.”

“I love you, Kathryn. Good-bye.” She pulled back and looked at Austen. “And thank you. Both of you.”

I couldn’t bring myself to say good-bye as she turned to Miles.

He offered her a gentle smile and then held out his elbow, like a gentleman would to his wife.

She hesitated for just a moment and then wrapped her arm through his and lifted her head high, looking for all the world like Mrs. Miles Fremont.

Austen and I watched as they walked down the platform and disappeared.

“Do you trust him?” I asked Austen as he put his arm around my waist.

“With my life.”

I finally looked up at him as the clock on the platform rang the midnight hour, and the reality of the moment hit me with intensity.

As soon as I fell asleep in this path, I would never come back.

But I didn’t have to go to sleep right now. I still had a little more time.

“Where would you like to go?” he asked, his gaze intent upon my face.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He took my hand and led me down the platform, in the opposite direction that Miles and Mary had just gone.

It was cold, but I didn’t mind as we walked along a thoroughfare. I shivered when I thought that at this very moment, Jack the Ripper was supposed to have been approaching my sister at Miller’s Court. What would happen when I woke up in 1938 tomorrow? Would everything be different? Would the entire world be changed by one simple adjustment to history?

I wasn’t eager to find out.

“I’ve been through Southampton many times,” Austen finally said. “And I’ve stayed at the Dolphin Hotel. It’s the oldest hotel in Southampton, dating back to the 1400s.” He put his arm around me as we continued to walk. “Just think, perhaps Lady Cecily could have stayed there at one point.”

I smiled at the reference, thinking of the book I’d left in Austen’s care after we departed Hyde Park the other night.

“They have some of the best food in the country, and they are open all night,” he continued. “I thought perhaps we could get a bite to eat.”

I wasn’t sure I could eat, but I didn’t care where we went.

As soon as we arrived, he opened the door for me, and we were brought to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. Rough timber beams stretched across the ceiling, proof that the building was centuries old. There were more people there than I’d anticipated, but it didn’t matter to me. We sat on the same side of the booth, our backs to the room, as we looked out a window toward the dark harbor. Austen kept his arm around me as I laid my cheek against his shoulder.

“I don’t want this to be good-bye,” I whispered, trying desperately not to cry.

“Neither do I.” His voice was gruff with emotion as he took one of my hands.

“What would you do if this wasn’t good-bye?” I asked, looking up at him.

“I’d marry you, Kate. And I’d take you away from London.”

“Where would you take me?”

“Anywhere your heart desired. But first, I’d take you to Loch Lomond, and I’d keep you all to myself for as long as you’d let me.” He kissed me, only stopping when the waitress interrupted us with our food.

We talked about anything and everything and nothing. I tried to savor each moment, wishing it would last for a lifetime.

Neither one of us spoke as the sun started to crest the horizon, and I knew I couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer.

“It’s time,” I said to him, echoing his words to me on the platform. “I must go.”

There were tears in his eyes as he ran his thumb over the ridge of my cheek.

He had rented two rooms, and he walked me to mine. Outside the door, he gave me a kiss. It was sweet and tender, full of longing and heartbreak. Our tears mingled and were salty on my lips.

“I love you, Kate,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” I kissed him one last time, and then I stepped into my room.

There was no sound outside my door for a few moments, and then I heard his steps as he walked away.

The room was small but clean. I didn’t bother to undress but went to bed and lay down. I was exhausted in body and soul. I didn’t want to leave 1888, but there was nothing left to do.

So I went to sleep.