“Father, please—“
“Out, Elizabeth. Wait outside my office, as I asked you to do a quarter of an hour ago.”
It took as much restraint as Ian could muster to allow his superior to raise his voice to Lizzy with that tone of disgust his words. Father or not, Ian hated the way Ainsworth spoke to her. But Miss Ainsworth required no rescue.
Lizzy straightened her back and approached her father. The chief inspector didn’t give her a glance, no doubt expecting her to obey his command and leave the room. But she stopped short, just before her father’s desk.
“Father, please let me explain.” She looked back at Ian after speaking, and there was a question in her eyes.
The most important question was the one he had yet to ask.
“Detective Chief Inspector, I wish to marry your daughter.”
“What?” The word rang to the ceiling, shouted by father and daughter at the same moment.
“Reed, have you gone completely mad?” Ainsworth turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
“You said you did not wish to marry Sara!” Lizzy’s voice took on a petulant tone.
“You, Lizzy, I want to marry you.” Would the woman ever understand?
She launched herself into Ian’s arms and he held her tight, forgetting for a moment that her father stood glowering at them.
“No, I will never consent to this.” Ainsworth boomed the words, like a judge casting final judgment.
Lizzy stepped away from their embrace but reached down to clasp Ian’s hand.
“Elizabeth Mariah Ainsworth, you will cease this foolishness and step into the hall while I speak to Inspector Reed.”
“No, Father.” Her rebellion seemed to deflate Ainsworth. He slumped down in the chair behind his desk and pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger.
“Reed, you cannot provide for my daughter. I know your income. And you will have even less of it after this outrage.”
“Father—“
“Do not interrupt me, Lizzy.” Ainsworth snarled at his daughter, and Ian could no longer stand by idle.
“Sir, I can provide for Lizzy. I have been saving for years, and you know I am not afraid of hard work or long hours. I have hopes of promotion, sir.”
The man laughed, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands on his not insignificant girth.
“You think I intend to promote you? After finding you alone, locked in a room, with my daughter?”
“I locked the door, Father.”
Lizzy’s words seemed to light a fire under Ainsworth. He shot up from his desk. “We’ll have no more of this now.”
Lizzy opened her mouth to protest, but Ainsworth lifted a finger and pointed at her.
“And you, girl. Your time in Whitechapel is done. I do not even wish you to visit me here at headquarters. It is long past time you should begin considering your future. You will make a fine wife, Lizzy. To a proper suitor.” He spoke the final words as he shifted his gaze to Ian.
Ian wasn’t certain if he should revel in the acknowledgment that he was a suitor for Lizzy’s hand or focus on Ainsworth’s dismissal of him as improper.
“On one point, sir, we are in agreement. Lizzy should no longer come into Whitechapel, at least until we’ve caught him.”
Ainsworth actually shot him a look of gratitude. Their work together on the women’s murders, the common goal to solve the crimes, had created camaraderie between all the men of H Division, no matter their status. Ian did not wish to be at odds with his superior. The man had favored and mentored him, and, if he was lucky, he might one day be his father-in-law. Most of all, he shared the man’s desire to keep Lizzy safe.
Lizzy apparently had other ideas. The moment he expressed agreement with her father, Ian felt her tug her hand from his.
“So this is how it would be. Both of you agreeing on what is best for me without consulting my feelings at all. I am not a fool. I am more careful and observant than you give me credit for. I am a detective chief inspector’s daughter, after all!”
Lizzy’s raised voice echoed against the walls of Ainsworth’s office. Even she seemed taken aback by her outburst. Ian watched her bow her head and bite her lower lip. He almost expected her to apologize to her father, who stood staring at her apprehensively, as if fearing she might start shouting again. Then Lizzy lifted her head and shot a long stare at both men in turn. “You cannot keep me from my work. Either of you.”
Ian felt her gaze on him as she spoke the last two words, and he’d never seen such a look her face. Frustration was clear, but he also read disappointment. The same gold-brown eyes that had looked at him with passion just moments before now gazed at him with pain.
He wanted to go to her, comfort her, to make her see sense.
But after gazing at him for a moment, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room. She did not stop outside Ainsworth’s door to wait as he instructed but turned in the hallway toward the building’s exit.
Her determined stride left Ian wondering if she’d ever wish to see him again.
Chapter Six
Ian took a few steps, intending to leave Ainsworth’s office. He wanted to follow Lizzy yet knew it was impossible. He had work to do, a murderer to find, and keeping busy was far preferable to dwelling on the end of what had only just begun between him and his superior’s daughter.
“We’re not finished here, Reed.”
It was only Ainsworth’s gruff voice that recalled Ian to the official reprimand he had been receiving before Lizzy interrupted. He waited while Ainsworth resettled himself behind his desk. The man seemed drained after the confrontation with his daughter.
“Yes, sir. As I said before Li...before Miss Ainsworth’s arrival, it won’t happen again. I should have sent word to you immediately.”
“See that it doesn’t. Let us put the matter to rest there.”
Before Lizzy burst in, Ainsworth had threatened official censure, even demotion. Now, after finding Ian in a locked room with his daughter, he was setting the whole thing aside?
“You will take no official action?”
“I’ve just told you I won’t, Inspector. Would you like me to reconsider?”
“No, sir”
“Very well then.”
Ian waited, expecting Ainsworth to dismiss him. But the man simply sat and gazed at him, as if sizing him up.
All Ian could think about was Lizzy. Despite her hasty departure and the prospect she was finished with him, the urge to ask Ainsworth whether he could court her, marry her, was powerful. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Ainsworth’s voice filled the room.
“You’ve chosen the right one.”
“Sir?”
“I like to host the men that I command in my home, allow them to meet my family, show them how hard work and diligence can pay off.”
Ainsworth’s hospitality toward his men was legendary. Some saw it as the guv showing off. Others thought Ainsworth desperate to marry off his daughters. But Ian took it just as the chief inspector had intended. He wished to motivate his men. Ainsworth seemed to value ambition as much as any other quality.
“Do you know how many requests I have had from men who wish to marry Sara?”
Ian dearly wished the girl would just marry someone and be done with it.
“No, sir.”
“Four.”
The number neither surprised nor interested Ian.
“She could not be bothered with any of the poor besotted fools, of course, and they don’t know how blessed they were.”
Could Ainsworth be as tired of the issue of Sara Ainsworth’s matrimonial prospects as he was? Before he could respond, if indeed Ainsworth expected him to, his superior continued.
“Sara would make a terrible police officer’s wife, no matter his rank. Elizabeth is the better choice. Yet none of them chose her. None of them noticed her merits. Until you. It is no surprise. You are a fine detective, with too keen an eye not to see what is truly before you.”
It was the perfect moment to speak up, to proclaim his intentions toward Lizzy, but Ainsworth had stunned him. The detective chief inspector filled the silence.
“Based on what I witnessed here this morning, I would venture to say she is fond of you. And you of her. How exactly did that transpire?”
Ian had never stuttered in his life, but he suddenly tripped on his own tongue. “I have... She is... We...”
Ainsworth seemed to grow bored with his effort and offered up a detective’s surmises.
“I take it you have seen her outside of your visits to our home. Goodness knows Sara and my wife would not have given you a moment’s peace to speak to Lizzy on her own. So you met in Whitechapel, perhaps. By chance or design? At Tregard School, where she does her charity work, or perhaps here at the station when she came to visit and found me away.” Ainsworth watched Ian closely as he spoke and his eyes narrowed. “Not Wellclose Square. Tell me my daughter has not visited your lodgings, Inspector.”
Ian could not tell him that Lizzy had come to him. Her scandalous wager, asking him to give her carnal pleasure, as she called it, in exchange for favor with her father and sister had never been worth considering. He would have offered her anything, all the pleasure he was capable of giving, just for the prize of touching her, kissing her, making love to her.
“I see.” Ainsworth seemed to read Ian’s thoughts, though he hadn’t managed to utter a word.
What exactly had Ainsworth’s inquiring gaze deduced?
“She came to you.”
He had never lied to Ainsworth and didn’t wish to start now, but admitting the truth might tarnish Lizzy’s reputation or damage the chief inspector’s regard for his daughter.
When Ian remained silent, Ainsworth continued.
“Your silence tells me all I need to know, Inspector.” The older man released a long, deep sigh. “I am well aware of my daughter’s, shall we say, independent nature. Though I acknowledge that venturing to a bachelor’s lodgings unchaperoned is beyond any measure of independence I can condone.”
All of this would be irrelevant if Lizzy was his. Why wait for promotion? Every day he saw evidence of life’s fragility. Happiness, a lifetime of it, was just within his grasp. Ian could not let it slip by him.
“I am more than fond of your daughter, sir. I would like to marry Lizzy. I would like your permission to ask her.”
He expected hesitation, perhaps an outright refusal. But Ainsworth continued to surprise.
The man had been sitting forward at his desk, speaking to Ian with an earnest intensity. Now he leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers over his chest, and opened his mouth as if to speak. But what came out was not a word. It was a deep, rumbling belly laugh that shook his whole body. In between the steady bellows of laughter, he issued short barks of mirth, as if he had just thought of something even more amusing. The sound of his laughter built to a crescendo until his eyes began to well with tears.
Ian did not know whether he should throw cold water on the man to stem his fit or laugh along with him. He settled for letting him go. He had never seen Ainsworth in such a state and rather hoped he wouldn’t again.
Ainsworth finally got hold of himself and leaned forward.
“Do forgive me, Reed. I can see you are quite sincere. And I have no doubt you hold my daughter in high esteem, despite the lack of sense both of you displayed this morning.”
He stifled another giggle before continuing.
“Your words reminded me of the day I approached my own father-in-law to make the same request regarding Lizzy’s mother. I thought convincing the old man would be my greatest challenge. He was child’s play compared to the struggle to convince my wife to marry me. Like my daughter, she was quite committed to her work. I fear you have a similarly difficult road ahead.”
“Lizzy is worth the effort.”
“Indeed.” On that, at least, they both agreed. “Can you provide for my daughter? Living near the station was commendable when you were an unmarried man, Inspector, but I would prefer my daughter reside closer to her family.”
“And not in Whitechapel.” Ian had no particular love for the district, though he had come to respect those he met who worked hard and remained hopeful despite their circumstances. Still, he would not expect Lizzy to live there and had already considered the prospect of providing a home for both of them. He nodded his head at Ainsworth. “I have already considered new lodgings, sir.”
“Excellent.”
“Then you consent? Earlier you said you would not.”
Ainsworth smiled at Ian. “Man can change his mind, Reed. Let’s hope for your sake the same is true of woman.”
***
“You cannot be thinking of marriage!”
Mary Ledbetter was the most outspoken opponent of marriage among Lizzy’s friends. Though she asserted her reasons were based on the betterment and rights of women, Lizzy believed it might have something to do with the handsome journalist who had broken her heart two years before. She spoke of him occasionally, a Mr. Wynter, usually holding him up as a prime example of the kind of man who would expect his wife to give up everything after wedlock in order to serve as his housekeeper and care for his children. Even to Lizzy’s ears, Mary’s reasoning sounded more emotional than logical.
Now Mary was confronting Eleanor Walker, the third member of their small circle that convened every few weeks following their larger women’s suffrage group meetings. Gathered around a small table at a tea room in Bloomsbury, they would discuss politics, books, art, and their work. Today Eleanor had surprised both Lizzy and Mary with news of her upcoming nuptials.
Lizzy laid a hand over Eleanor’s and turned to Mary, trying to deflect her attention. “She certainly is thinking of marriage. She’s just told us she has accepted Mr. Pratt’s offer.” She squeezed Eleanor’s hand. “I believe congratulations are in order.”
“Do you really offer congratulations so lightly, Lizzy? After all the discussions we have had on the subject?”
Lizzy hated that Mary spoke as if Eleanor wasn’t even at the table, but Ellie seemed to take it in stride. Always the quietest of the bunch, she simply sat and beamed. Marriage, or at least the prospect of it, seemed wholly agreeable to her.
“Mary, we discuss many issues and perhaps too often consider the worst possibilities. I know nothing of Mr. Pratt, but I look forward to meeting him. And I don’t offer my congratulations lightly. I offer it wholeheartedly. I am happy for you, dear Ellie.”
Mary hesitated only a moment before taking Ellie’s other hand. “I wish only for your happiness, Eleanor. I’m simply not certain you will find it in the shackles of marriage.”
Eleanor responded to Mary’s first sentence and ignored her last. “And I yours, both of you.” Her soft voice rang with sincerity and her joy was infectious.
Lizzy and Mary released Ellie’s hands and the three women reached for their teacups in an impromptu toast to the future Mr. and Mrs. Pratt. With harmony restored in their little circle, Lizzy expected the conversation to return to a discussion of the meeting they had just attended. But Eleanor steered the conversation back to her betrothed and the topic of marriage.
“I assure you Mr. Pratt is an exception to whatever fears we have expressed about matrimony and its effects on women.”
“You’re not married to him yet.” Mary’s dubious tone drew a patient smile from Eleanor.
“Very true, Mary, but we have discussed our future many times—our hopes and expectations. He respects my work. In fact, we plan to work side-by-side running the inn his father has left him. I would no more ask him to forego his work than he would ask me to quit mine.”
Lizzy knew that Ellie’s bookkeeping skills, gained from years of experience in her father’s shop, would serve her well as an innkeeper’s wife.
“And does he support suffrage for women?” It seemed Mary was determined to find fault with poor Mr. Pratt.
“He is indeed.” Eleanor took a dainty sip o
f tea and Lizzy hoped that Mary would take the cue to move onto a different subject. But Ellie wasn’t finished.
“Do I have your blessing then, Mary? Will you finally acknowledge that a woman might find a husband who wishes for a life’s companion, a partner in every endeavor, not simply a housemaid to keep under his thumb?”
Mary merely smiled and murmured a sound of assent.
“And you, Lizzy, do you concede the point as well?”
Ian Reed’s beautifully carved face came instantly to Lizzy’s mind. She felt heat warm her cheeks at the memory of his touch, his kiss, his body, so firm and warm beneath her hands. And she heard his words, the desire to marry her, ringing in her ears.
“How can I deny it? Your Mr. Pratt is proof enough. And surely he’s not the only exception.” Lizzy smiled and hoped her blush was not too obvious.
Could Ian Reed be the sort of man to accept her fully, with all her faults, her political opinions, and her inability to sew a neat stitch to save her life? More importantly, would he allow her to continue her work at Tredgard School?
No. She already knew the answer. He had expressed agreement with her father, who wished her to quit her position immediately.
Ian Reed might offer her passion, but she could never be his wife.
Chapter Seven
Three unanswered letters to Lizzy left Ian no choice. He made his way to the Ainsworth residence on a foggy Thursday evening in October. He knew it was the chief inspector’s habit to dine at his club on Thursdays, and he hoped, with Ainsworth gone, he might somehow make it past the housekeeper who had turned him away on the two other occasions he had attempted to call on Lizzy.
He rang the bell twice before anyone answered. When the door swept open he was stunned to see Lizzy on the other side. And she was quite a sight to see. A rich blue dress hugged her curves and the bodice dipped low, revealing the full rise of her breasts. His mouth watered as he recalled the taste of her skin.
“Detective Inspector Reed.” He didn’t care for the formal address, but he loved hearing the sound of her voice again.
Scandalous Wager: A Whitechapel Wagers Novella Page 4