Page 28 of The King of Whitechapel (Victorian Outcasts #7)

twenty-eight

C HRISTOPHER MIGHT HAVE underestimated the seriousness of his injuries.

The cut on his back was so painful that for two weeks, he’d found it difficult to sleep, sit, walk, breathe … anything, really, and the punches he’d received during the brawl made him sore.

His head had felt the size of a watermelon and throbbed with a passion. He’d had no choice but to take laudanum, which drastically reduced the time he was conscious and rational.

Almost three weeks had passed since the fight at the warehouse, and finally, he had recovered his strength. Because many of his men were equally injured, yet another shipment had to be delayed. Of course, the official version was another battle between two rival gangs had ensued.

Sod Pearce to hell.

On top of that, Elizabeth worried him. She’d spent every day next to him, staring at him as if she expected him to die at any moment. Her fear was palpable. She wasn’t made for this life. Few were. He couldn’t demand she live as he did and be happy. She wouldn’t want to build a family with him in this precarious life. He was ready to renounce his criminal throne for her, but it would take time.

“Here’s your tea.” She entered the bedroom, carrying a tray with a fresh pot of tea, oat biscuits, bread, and ham. “I’ll apply the salve to your wound again. It’s getting better quickly. That’s a good sign.”

“Wait.” He propped himself up, twitching his nose at the smell of carbolic acid wafting from his clothes.

No matter how much soap he used to wash himself, the stink of carbolic acid remained on his skin, bedsheets, and food.

“What is it? Your back again?” Her pallor hadn’t improved in the past weeks.

“No.” He grabbed her trembling hand. “These past weeks, I’ve been either unconscious or busy with my men, and we didn’t have the chance to talk.”

She pressed her lips. “I know what you want to say. I nearly fainted, and I couldn’t watch when Finn stitched the wound. Without him, I’m not sure what would have happened to you. I’ll get better. I need time. I promise. Jane will teach me how to stitch wounds.”

“No.” He regretted the sharp tone he used. “You don’t have to change or get better. But you should ask yourself if this life is for you.”

“Christopher—”

“Really for you. You might get used to the blood, but life here will always be violent, and you can’t get used to that. Sooner or later, it’ll be too much, and either a part of you will die, or you’ll regret having stayed. And I’d rather see you lead a happy, normal life without me than watch a part of you being murdered by this life and learning to hate me.”

“You’re too dramatic. I want to stay here.”

“I want you to stay here, too. But I want you to make a choice you won’t regret. I can live, knowing you’re safe and happy without me. I can’t live if you’re by my side but resent me.”

She lowered her gaze. “I grew up in a wealthy family. That’s true. My life was without danger or worries about where I would get my next meal. My parents spoiled me. All this is true. In the past months, I learnt first-hand what poverty means. For the first time, I’ve worked to earn money, and I had to defend myself from men who tried to grope me.”

“What?” He sat bolt upright, ignoring the shot of pain in his back. “When did this happen?”

She smiled and put a hand on his chest. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened.”

“The hell nothing happened. Who were these men?”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “You’re getting distracted. What I mean to say is that I survived. Those lessons were hard to learn, but I survived. And I want to stay here.”

“Learning to work with your hands is not the same thing as dealing with criminals and risking getting arrested.”

Her delicate eyebrows drew together. “I know what I’m doing.”

He begged to differ. What she’d seen was but a glimpse of what her life with him would be. He wondered if he had the right to drag her into his dangerous world. The least he could do was to be honest with her.

“I’m ready to leave this life for you,” he said.

Her eyes flared wide. “Would you really?”

“Yes. Hell, I enjoy the excitement, I’m not going to lie, but it’s tiring. But it’ll take time. I can’t leave my men unprotected, and all my businesses need to be settled.”

“Oh, Christopher.”

“If my plan to turn my business into a legal company doesn’t work, leaving this life behind might take years.” He couldn’t express himself further as Finn appeared on the threshold, wearing a nice brown tweed suit.

“May I come in, Guv?”

“Come in.”

“I have news.” Finn waved a piece of paper. “It took me an embarrassing amount of time, what with the battle and everything else, but I have the list of people who were at the duke’s ball in June.” He put it on the bed. “The duke’s servants are fiercely loyal to him, or maybe scared, but I found a maid who trusted me.”

“Well done.” Christopher showed the list to Elizabeth. “Did you write down all the names?”

He thrust his chest out. “I did, Guv. I copied them from the list the duke’s maid had in a drawer.”

“Excellent.” Christopher studied the list. “I don’t know half of these people.”

“I know many of them,” Elizabeth said, “but I don’t see what any of them would gain from discrediting us.”

“Is there any jealous woman who wanted Pearce for herself?”

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, looking adorable. “The majority of the women on the list are married or engaged. Others are barely débutantes. Again, Rebecca is the only name I can think of.”

“But you said she didn’t come.”

“She didn’t.” She frowned. “She knows I lied about the Great Blizzard. I told my parents I took shelter in our hunting lodge, but instead, Lady Bletchley said she’d been there with her family. Rebecca Norton was present when we discussed that.”

He nodded. “She understood you lied because you were with someone else, and it wouldn’t take long to guess that someone was me.”

“She must have seen us together at the ball, but again, she declined Pearce’s invitation.”

“The maid said that some guests arrived late,” Finn said. “I can ask her again for this Rebecca.”

“Yes, do it,” Christopher said.

“Great,” Finn said. “If this is all, I’d like to go.” He started to walk out, but Christopher stopped him.

“Where are you going in your finest?”

Finn flushed to the roots of his nicely styled hair. “The library.”

“You don’t usually wear a nice suit for that,” he said.

Finn fiddled with his flat hat. “Yes, well, this library is close to the toffs’ houses, and people wear fine clothes there.”

Christopher raised his eyebrows. “What’s her name?”

“Christopher, leave the boy alone.” Elizabeth shook her head.

“I care about him. I want to know what he’s up to. Finn?”

The boy flashed a shy smile. “Odette. She’s very pretty and very clever. We talked a bit in the library, but we shouldn’t. So we now meet in the library when it’s not too busy.”

“I’m happy you found someone to share your studies with,” she said.

“I think Finn wants to share something with Odette other than books.” Christopher grinned.

“Shush,” she chided him.

Finn blushed again, scrubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I have to go now.” He ran out of the room as if followed by the coppers.

“You helped him a lot,” Christopher said, stroking her hand.

“Helping him with mathematics was easy for me. Helping you with the cut and blood wasn’t.”

He pulled her close for a kiss he knew he didn’t deserve. She sagged against his chest, and he deepened the kiss, deliberately forgetting about the future for a moment.

She moaned in the kiss when he cupped her breast through the fabric of her shirt. Her nipple hardened under the pad of his thumb.

“We must be careful,” she whispered against his lips. “You haven’t recovered yet.”

“Sleep with me tonight.”

“I’ve been sleeping here every night.”

“Yes. On the sofa.”

“You were in pain, and I didn’t want to hurt you by accident in my sleep.” Her eyes became suspiciously shiny. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He kissed her cheek and neck. “Neither do I.”

He swore an oath, right then and there. Her safety and happiness came before everything else, and if his illegal business made his life too complicated and that meant letting her go, he would.

* * *

Elizabeth was making progress with the accounting job for Christopher and with Darko.

Her situation with the hound was a far cry from being extremely friendly, but Darko had stayed without growling at her while she’d worked in Christopher’s study.

Darko half-slept, half-watched her from his thick bedding. His pointed ears turned around every time she made a noise. She dropped the pen, and his head went up.

“Do not fret. It’s only the pen.” As she leant over to pick it up, he padded across the room towards her.

She moved very slowly as he sniffed the floor where the pen had fallen and then her fingers. He made a noise like a snort, a sign he was disappointed. No treats.

But she had a secret weapon. With her free hand, she fished out a slice of bacon from a container on the desk.

“We are friends, aren’t we?”

He sat, his amber eyes on the bacon.

“Good boy.” She handed him the treat and giggled when his raspy tongue tickled her hand.

When he finished cleaning the grease from her fingers, he straightened and stared at her as if he were making a decision. She remained still, returning the stare although they said a dog considered a prolonged stare as a challenge. He made a funny noise before rising on his hind legs and running his tongue over her face, one long lick from her chin to her forehead that left her whole face wet. It had to be a sort of initiation or baptism.

“Eww.” She did her best to stay still.

He lazily returned to his bedding and curled up with a sigh. She guessed it was his way of telling her she was tolerable.

After she discreetly wiped her face—lest Darko get offended by her ingratitude—she resumed her work, recording all the transactions and balances of Christopher’s lucrative activities. At least she didn’t need to worry about tax calculations. And to think Christopher was ready to renounce his life for her. It didn’t matter if it’d take him years. She would wait for him.

Sometimes when she closed her eyes, visions of the bleeding gash on Christopher’s back would flash across her mind. The blood and shouts of pain of the wounded would forever be impressed in her memories. What would she do the next time when Christopher’s injuries were more serious?

“Miss?” Finn entered with a tray of steaming tea. “I brought tea and some news.”

“Thank you. What news?”

He took a chair and sat on it backwards. “The duke’s maid told me that Miss Rebecca Norton actually came to the ball.”

She held her breath. “Is she certain?”

“Absolutely. The maid remembers it because Rebecca arrived late and dropped a glass of wine on her dress. The maid escorted her to a room upstairs where Rebecca removed her dress so the maid could clean the stain. Rebecca remained in that room for a while, and after the maid returned the gown, she decided to leave the ball in a hurry. Hardly anyone saw her.”

“Dash it all. So it must be her. She must have seen Christopher and me while she was upstairs, and after she saw us, she decided to leave, surely to plan what to do next.”

“It doesn’t prove she’s the gossipmonger, but it proves she lied to you.”

“Indeed.” She folded her arms on her chest. Her instincts had been right. “Thank you, Finn. You’ve been wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.” He poured her a cup and opened his mouth, but then closed it again.

“What is it?”

His smile seemed forced, but it didn’t last, and he turned serious. “May I talk to you?”

“Certainly.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s about Odette. She’s one of the toffs, as you are. No offence, miss.”

“None taken.”

“She has a chaperone, velvet dresses, an elegant accent, and a shiny carriage, and all that. I didn’t tell her who I am, an orphan who lives in Whitechapel with the King.” He hunched his shoulders. “Would the Guv be disappointed?”

“No, darling. Christopher would understand, but you can’t lie to Odette. It’s not right.”

“But if she knows I’m a criminal, she won’t want to see me again, will she? You’re a lady. A lady doesn’t spend time with people like me.”

What was she supposed to say? She didn’t want to encourage him to lie. The lie would be discovered sooner or later, and Odette would surely be upset. But she couldn’t lie either and tell him Odette wouldn’t care about who he was.

“Even if Odette doesn’t care about what you do and wants to see you, her parents will forbid her to. It’s a complicated world.”

“Why do you stay with the Guv?” he asked.

“Because I care about him. Very much. And my situation is different from Odette’s. I’m not a lady anymore.”

He frowned, looking older. “So you want to stay here because you can’t live with your family anymore?”

“No, it’s …” Difficult. The incident with her family had pushed her out of her house, but she didn’t regret her decision to stay with Christopher. “I’ve always known that my parents didn’t approve of Christopher. They did everything in their power to keep us apart. An argument with them was inevitable, as it was my decision to stay with him. What I can tell you is not to lie to her. Let her decide what she wants.”

He nodded solemnly. “Will you come with me? I am supposed to meet her in Hyde Park for a promenade, and I don’t want to go alone. You’re a lady and know how I should behave.”

“Of course I’ll come.”