Something Wild

by Sable Grey

  "Then come inside and I shall collect what is owed to her.” The man waved a beefy hand toward the door he'd just stepped from.

  "John Webber, stop it! It is not as you suspect!” Cora whirled to face Baden, her eyes pleading with him. “I am not a prostitute. I swear it to you, sir. John has many who are, but I have never..."

  "Lucas?” Baden turned to find his driver standing in the doorway. “Go with young Cora to retrieve her trunk."

  "Yes, sir.” Lucas moved hurriedly, seeming to understand that Baden wanted to leave the place as quickly as possible.

  "You are leaving?” Webber's gaze dropped to Cora. “You cannot leave. You still owe me two weeks’ rent."

  "How much?” Baden demanded. For a moment the man said nothing then quoted a price.

  "He lies. It is not so much,” Cora argued, and Webber reached out to grasp her arm, giving her a shake.

  "Quiet. You want to leave? This is the business of leaving."

  "Go, Cora, with Lucas and then wait for me in the carriage.” Baden's gaze never left Webber. He wanted to break off the hand the man held her with and beat him with it. He had to stifle a growl, one that could only be attributed to some strange, unfamiliar feeling of possessiveness.

  When Cora did not move, Lucas's hands slipped over her shoulders and guided her to the stairs. “You must show me which room is yours, miss."

  "Stupid girl.” Webber shook his head and turned to head back into his office. Baden followed, struggling to keep from ripping out the man's beefy throat. “If a mistress is what you want, I can provide a much more experienced and obedient woman. Cora is high strung and will not be satisfied in such a position."

  Baden retrieved the amount the man had named and handed it to him. “I shall want a receipt."

  "When you are done with her, you can always bring her back here.” Webber took the money and headed through a door into an office. “Young as she is, bonny, that's what you want her for, isn't it? You want her to be your whore..."

  "The receipt is all I need from you.” Baden gritted his teeth and waited until the man held out the receipt. He snatched it from him and tucked it into the pocket inside his vest. “You, sir, are a despicable sort. I shall instruct you only once to never have contact with the woman again."

  Webber snorted. “What is she to you except a cunt until you tire of her?"

  It hadn't been Baden's intentions to strike the man. Not the first time, the second, or the third. He'd delivered the blows before he'd even realized what he was doing, and by the time he caught himself from delivering a fourth, the man had fallen back onto the desk with a bloodied nose and busted lip.

  "Keep away from her.” His voice did not sound like his own, but more of that which he hid within him. Turning on his heel, he stamped from the office and slammed the door closed behind him, noticing a woman, barely dressed, standing at the top of the stairs.

  He took a deep breath then another, looking down at his bleeding knuckles. It wasn't like him to lose control like that, but even now as he struggled for composure, anger pounded through his veins, making him wish to return to the office and strike at the man again.

  Stalking from the building, he was thankful to find Lucas already atop the carriage seat, and the open door revealed Cora sitting inside. He said nothing as he climbed into the carriage and settled beside her.

  The carriage lurched forward just as Cora gasped. “Sir, you are bleeding!"

  His gaze dropped again to his knuckles as she reached for his hand, and shame filled him. He'd behaved like a brute, a raving lunatic. “It is nothing."

  "What happened?"

  He withdrew his hand from hers and turned his attention away, pushing back the curtain to stare out.

  * * * *

  Cora placed the damp cloth, strips of linen, and soothing salve that had taken her hours to mix on a tray. She was about to reach for the bowl of water when a shadow in the door behind her caused her to start. Whirling, she lifted a hand to her chest when she found it was Baden Sikes, leaned against the doorframe, half in shadow, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

  "Sir, you startled me."

  "Indeed."

  "I was just coming to the study to find you.” She could not explain the mixture of emotions that filled her whenever he was near her. His watchful eyes, the intensity they held, and that cool reserve made her nervous, and it terrified her that she could not seem to control her emotions.

  "And what would you do when you found me?"

  "I mean to tend to your cuts since I can only imagine they were acquired on my behalf.” Cora waited as his attention dropped to the items on the tray. Ursula had told her before retiring that Cora's attempts would be in vain, that the detective would not be interested in being fussed over no matter how long it took her to mix her salve. But Cora felt she must try.

  "What is that?” Baden slowly straightened inside the door and walked forward, his gaze locked on the tray.

  "It is a salve that my father's cook knew how to make and taught me. It shall soothe the sting of the cuts as it helps them to heal. And I've bandages to wrap your hand so that no infection may settle.” She waited, studying his face as he peered down at the items.

  He was a very handsome man, Cora surmised as she waited for him to deny her attention, and very different than he'd looked earlier when he'd stormed from Webber's building. His dark eyes had glittered with rage, the hair that now smoothed back from his face had fallen forward across his strong brow, and his hands had been clenched as if he was fighting for control.

  Everything about him seemed reserved and coolly in place, as if how he'd appeared before had been again tucked away behind the well-groomed gentleman she'd known from their first meeting. She couldn't decide if that scared or excited her.

  Ursula had confided that the detective was a private man. That was why he would turn Cora and her attempts to tend to him away. He did not allow many to become close to him. But then, bringing her from her thoughts, he surprised her by settling in one of the chairs at the wooden table and holding out his hand.

  Quickly she set the tray on the table and took his hand into hers so she could clean the wounds with the damp cloth. “I'm thankful that you are not as silly as Ursula suspected you might be. Festering wounds can be painful no matter how small they might seem."

  "I make an attempt not to entertain silliness of character."

  It was not the first time he'd poked fun at himself, and Cora had to admire someone not so proud that he could not laugh. Focusing her attention on his hand, she marveled at the warmth of his long fingers as she rested his palm against hers and gently moved the cloth over his knuckles. His fingers were long, and while his hands were not overly large, they were still bigger than hers. She imagined his fist could do certain damage to someone if he were inclined to strike. Secretly, she hoped he had caused Webber great pain, though she would never admit it aloud.

  Baden suddenly released a heavy breath. “I behaved foolishly. The man's assumption and ignorance irritated me, and I allowed him to get the best of me. I did strike him."

  Cora smiled without looking up at him, a bit surprised that he would confess to her. “You should not feel burdened by your actions. He has a habit of bringing out the worst in people.” She bit her lip, hoping her revelation would not make him think less of her or lessen his want to help her find employment. “I myself gave in to my temper with him once and struck him. It was a foolish thing to do, because he of course reprimanded me soundly for it."

  "Reprimanded?"

  "So that my ears rang for a good thirty minutes.” She chuckled, but when his fingers closed over her hand, she lifted her gaze to his face to find his dark eyes hardened.

  "He struck you?” Something very dangerous lingered around the edges of his calm tone.

  It was an odd feeling that found Cora's heart, one that was familiar but that she'd forgotten until that moment. She felt protected. She'd missed that feeling of safeness after her father had died, bu
t had learned to live without it. And although she'd felt safety in the detective's home the night before, it had been one that was a condition of not being exposed to those who might harm her. Now it was as if he, himself, would go out of his way to ensure her safety.

  "Only because I slapped him, rather hard in fact. His cheek was reddened still the following morning,” she whispered. Still he didn't release her hand, the warmth of him creeping up her arm.

  "And now I am tempted to return to his pathetic place of business and assault him again.” He lifted his glass to his lips, the fingers of his right hand finally loosening from around hers. But she didn't pull away. She wanted to revel in the man's honorable anger toward Webber, to imagine it was love like she'd felt before with her father. Someone angry because another had harmed her, willing to harm them in retaliation—it felt good, and she basked in it greedily.

  "Why did you slap him?"

  "I will not tell you, for I can see it has angered you that I've spoken of it at all.” Cora shook her head. “That was not my intention. I only meant to assure you that you had no reason to feel guilt for your actions."

  "Ursula told me of your situation. I imagine you were given little choice of where to live.” He drained the contents of his glass, rose, and retrieved a bottle from one of the cupboards. She watched in silence as he refilled his glass and sat again at the table.

  "There is one like him or worse in any place I might have taken up residence.” Cora nodded, turning her attention back to his knuckles. “He did not push me to pay my rent in his bed. For that I was grateful and decided he was the lesser threat than the others I had sought a room from."

  She scooped a bit of the salve onto her fingers and rubbed it gently against the cuts on his skin. “I know that he hoped me to become a prostitute for him. There are other women who live there and survive like that. I could never. But it is easier to overlook ignorance than cruelty."

  "You settle for the lion to save yourself from the bear."

  "A lion is fearless of anything.” Cora laughed and looked up as she reached for the strips of linen. “I imagine he did not strike you back."

  "He did not."

  "He only preys upon those that allow him to prey upon them.” She wrapped his hand and secured the ends. Before she could release him, his fingers closed again. When she looked up, his gaze was intense and filled with promise.

  "You'll never have to live like that again."

  "I appreciate your kindness, sir."

  His head tilted slightly as his hand fell away from hers. “You still do not think I would try to harm you myself?"

  Cora didn't mean to laugh. “A woman must be cautious. I did not realize it when my father was here to protect me, but I learned quickly. While my instincts told me you were to be trusted, I cannot trust them completely. One might say one thing and then attempt to do another. I suppose that is why I chose Webber over the others. He does not hide his intentions."

  "Everyone hides something.” And just like that, the bit of warmth he had displayed was gone, slipped behind that coldness she'd seen earlier. “Thank you for you attention to my hand.” He was dismissing her.

  "It is late. Will you be retiring soon?"

  "I will not.” He rose from his chair, drink in hand, and walked to the window. She watched his expression closely. Ursula had told her there had been another murder, that the detective had gone to see it himself. She imagined it weighed heavily upon him given the detail that Ursula had relayed about the victim. She was horrified each time she learned of the murders.

  "Might I accompany you to your study?"

  He didn't face her or answer, instead heading for the door and leaving her to follow. He walked with quiet confidence . Even when in his thoughts, he was confident, sure, and had no fears.

  Once inside the study, she glanced around at his books. She'd never seen so many in her life. Even her father, who had loved the written word, had not owned so many.

  "Ursula is worried of your health. She told me today that she fears you drink too much."

  "Ursula isn't happy unless she has something to worry about."

  "She feels that it is the murders that have depressed you.” When he didn't respond, she neared. “I owe you a debt for helping me. If you wish someone ... someone removed ... to talk to ... I am not ignorant or stupid. I can listen and reason and would not repeat your worries. My father often confided in me when something weighed heavily upon him."

  "And what relief would that bring me?” He took a drink from his glass. “Things are as they are, and it would do nothing but fill you with more fear than has already struck this city."

  "They say the bodies are mutilated after he kills the women.” Cora swallowed against the dryness the words brought to her throat. “The papers are filled with the tragic events of late."

  "Do not attempt to goad me into conversing about it.” He turned from the window, and his gaze rested on her. For a long moment, he only stood there staring at her. Then his shoulders slumped slightly.

  "I do not mean to snap or speak to you rudely. It is true what Ursula says of me in that these murders keep me restless."

  It was the second time he had offered an explanation for his behavior when most would not care what she thought. But this man tried to make amends as if he believed he might have offended or behaved less than honorably. Cora had to respect that.

  "I know a man, John Waverly. He is not as wealthy as some, but a gentleman who may be interested in your working for him. His home is about the size of this one. He is not married and has no children.” He walked to the desk and set his drink down.

  "Like you."

  His gaze slanted in her direction. “Yes, like me, but I've no need for another maid."

  "No, I am curious as to why a man would not seek a wife. Ursula said you rarely even call on ladies..."

  "Ursula has a mouth that is unhinged and needs a lock,” he growled.

  "She likes me. Most find me easy to talk to. Even Webber did so a few times.” She laughed. “I do not know why. I have a quick temper and weep at the drop of a hat."

  He smiled softly, and Cora blinked. She'd only seen him solemn, smiling only once before when he had found her reluctance to come into his home amusing.

  "Those are not terrible faults."

  "You've not seen my temper."

  His smile widened. “I have seen you have a prideful nature."

  Cora felt some of which he spoke raise its head in her chest. “Do you not have pride? Right now I offer to listen so you may lessen your burdens, yet your pride will not let you speak to me. Why is that a fault for me but something honorable in you? Because I have no wealth? No fine hat and cloak?"

  He held up his hands. “You needn't become angry."

  Cora crossed her arms. “If I had none, I would have turned to the very way of life Webber wished me to. I would lose value, both in my own eyes and in others'.” She turned to leave, halting only when those long fingers caught her arm.

  "You misunderstand me. I was merely speaking of what I had seen in you. It was not a criticism of character.” His finger tightened as he guided her back around to face him. She tried to blink back the tears that threatened, but he obviously saw them and frowned. “I have hurt you. It was unintentional.” One blasted tear fell.

  He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and tenderly wiped it away, surprising her with his gentleness. “Forgive me. I seem to be having trouble communicating of late. I very nearly bit off Ursula's head just yesterday for voicing her concerns about me."

  "Ignore me, sir. I cry so easily that the tears should be ignored and not taken personally.” Cora felt a little embarrassed for her outburst against him.

  "I shall not ignore tears if I am the cause of them.” He reached forward and cupped her chin with his fingers, lifting her face so that she must look at him. “You've had a hard time of things and, I expect, not much humanity since your father died."

  "It has not been easy, but I've
adjusted.” Her gaze dropped to his defined lips. Would he try to kiss her as others had? She was certain she wouldn't punch him as she had the last, that she wouldn't mind at all if it were he who pressed his lips to hers now.

  "John shall make an easier life for you. I've known him a number of years, and he is fond of coddling women and does not segregate that fact by class. He spends frivolous amounts of money on his mother and sister..."

  "I do not care of great wealth.” Cora hoped he didn't think she had been spoiled by her father. “My father and I, like you, had a great love for books. That is what we spent most of his money on. We lived very modestly."

  He only stared down at her, and she could not name his expression. Then he surprised her by running his thumb along her cheek before releasing her face. “You should try to sleep tonight. This was your day to relax. I've no doubts that Ursula will have a long and very busy day planned for you tomorrow."

  "You will not allow me to sit with you tonight?” Cora asked.

  "No. I believe I strained a muscle in my back last night lugging you to your room after you fell asleep, and since I would not leave you here to snore so loudly that I cannot read, then I do not wish to injure myself further."

  "I do not snore.” Cora saw the quick curve of his lips when he turned to reach for his drink. “I believe you are jesting with me."

  "So loud the windows shook."

  Before she could stop herself, she reached out and slapped his shoulder. “It is outright cruel for you to lie of such a thing.” When he slanted a glance at her, his eyes were laughing. “I believe you pretend, sir, to be the reserved gentleman just so you may poke fun of people without them ever even realizing it. I am not so stupid and believe I have exposed your true nature."

  "Good night, Cora.” He circled around his desk and sat down.

  "Good night, sir."

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  Chapter Three

  Baden stared down at the exposed cavity of Catherine Eddowes’ abdomen as Dr. Brown kneeled beside her. She, like the other, had been mutilated.