Reckless Wager: A Whitechapel Wagers Novel

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Reckless Wager: A Whitechapel Wagers Novel Page 14

by Carlyle, Christy


  He nodded before sitting back and taking her in head to toe, assessing her. “You speak quite passionately on the matter. I can see why Annabel wished to support you.”

  His comments seemed effusive after his otherwise cool manner, and Kate felt the heat of a blush suffusing her face.

  He didn’t seem to notice. All of his attention was on the drawing room doorway.

  “Ah, here she comes.”

  Kate couldn’t hear anyone’s footsteps or any sound that indicated the countess approached, but the earl stood and tugged down sharply at his vest before reaching up to nudge his necktie into a tighter knot at his throat.

  When the door opened, no one appeared for several moments, though a thin, elegant little dog stepped through, only to turn back as if waiting on someone. That’s when Kate heard the voices—a man and a woman in heated disagreement.

  “Bel, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “You call me ridiculous, and yet you fear one small woman.”

  Kate swallowed, and then swallowed again. The woman’s voice sounded very like the countess, and the man’s voice was unmistakable. Ben.

  The earl craned his neck, as if he could see them beyond the doorway.

  Kate looked around, seeking escape. Two large windows looked out onto Belgravia, but the only door was the one in front of her. The one that Benjamin Quinn walked through, looking more appealing, and more irritated, than she’d ever seen him.

  “Kate.” He spoke her name on an exhale, as if the sight of her had taken the wind from his sails. “Mrs. Guthrie.” He spoke her married name more formally, replacing his shock with a mask of cool detachment.

  But he didn’t look at his sister with cool detachment. The glare he shot her was sharp enough to wound. Kate’s mouth dropped open when Annabel merely smirked.

  Then she approached Kate, Ben and her husband seemingly forgotten. “My dear Mrs. Guthrie, I see you have the cheque. It’s just a start. I’m sure your wonderful cause will continue to garner support.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Kate considered curtsying again, but Annabel reached out and embraced her.

  Before the countess released her, she whispered in Kate’s ear. “He loves you. If you can bear it, I think you should marry him.”

  Annabel stepped away and offered Kate an innocent smile, as if she hadn’t said a word. Then she ruined it by winking before turning to her husband. “Charles, do come and help me in the conservatory.”

  Lord Davenport offered his wife the same frown he’d given Kate’s curtsy. “The conservatory?”

  “Yes, there is much to be done. Come help me, won’t you?” Annabel arched her dark brows and tilted her head toward the doorway.

  The earl finally took the hint and clasped his wife’s hand around his forearm, as if preparing to take her on a stroll through Hyde Park. The little whippet pranced on its dainty paws as if a walk was imminent, not to mention the best idea of the day so far.

  When the earl and countess and her dog had left the room, closing the door behind them, Kate turned to Ben. He’d gone to stand before the fireplace, his back to her. For a moment she thought of Solomon Thrumble standing in the very same manner in her own sitting room the day she’d refused his proposal. The irony might have made her giggle if this wasn’t the most important moment of the rest of her life.

  She’d avoided marriage for nearly ten years, and she’d always believed it was because Andrew had ruined her. He’d certainly changed her feelings about marriage, damaged her spirit. For so long she’d been robbed of the hope of ever finding a man who would treat her with kindness and care. When loved ones urged her to remarry, that was the reason she gave herself for her disinterest.

  Now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she’d remained unmarried for ten years because she’d not yet met Detective Sergeant Benjamin Quinn. He was the only man she could imagine as her husband. He would refashion the word. He would be what she had always dreamed a husband would be—loving, caring, protective, and kind.

  Kate opened her mouth to speak but her throat was dry as dust. It didn’t matter. She had to tell him. “I’ve missed you.”

  She could see him inhale, the lift and lowering of his broad shoulders. He turned his head, giving her a glimpse of his handsome profile but not pivoting enough to look at her.

  “Did you miss me?” She knew he did, knew he loved her, but she needed to hear him say it.

  He turned to face her and took two steps. “Every moment of every day.”

  “You knew where to find me.”

  “And you knew where to find me.”

  That made her grin. Stubbornness was not in short supply in the Selsby family, and it seemed Ben Quinn would bring more of the same.

  He didn’t return her grin, just watched her through hooded eyes that gave nothing away.

  “You’ve heard about my plans?”

  “Annabel speaks of little else.”

  “You approve?”

  She took a step toward him, then another.

  He nodded. “The concept is a good one, but it will be challenging to pull off. I suspect you can do it, if anyone can.”

  Kate took another step. “You don’t mind me spending so much time Whitechapel?”

  She saw him swallow before answering. “I could never mind knowing you’re nearby.”

  He watched her approach, his body stiffening, tensing as she closed the distance between them. When she stood with him toe to toe, their boots nearly touching, he tipped his head and gazed down at her.

  “We shouldn’t be so far apart.” Something flashed in his eyes when she said the words, and Kate’s heart came to life again. Did he take her meaning? Did he know she didn’t mean the space across the Davenport’s cavernous drawing room, but the distance between their bodies, their hearts, their lives?

  He reached a hand up to her face, tracing the faded bruise.

  Kate turned her face and placed a kiss at the center of his palm.

  Her kiss seemed to unlock him, breaking the tension in his body, and he lifted his other hand to her neck, sinking his fingers into the hair and pulling her in for a kiss.

  The kiss started slow, gentle, tentative, but Kate would have none of it. She reached up and grasped his lapels, urging him nearer and stood up on her tiptoes to get closer.

  They tugged and pulled at each other’s clothing, each other’s hair, and the kiss turned frenzied, as if they were tasting each other again for the first time—not just sating a week’s worth of need, but a lifetime’s worth.

  When they pulled apart, too breathless to speak, their locked gazes did the speaking for them. He did understand her meaning. He did love her.

  “Never again?” He spoke the words through gasps for breath.

  No, they would never be apart again. She shook her head, too dizzy to speak.

  He drew her in, tucking her against his chest, and she laid her head over his heart. His heartbeat galloped, the pace matching her own racing pulse.

  He whispered against the top of her head, peppering kisses against her hair as he spoke. “I want to marry you, Kate. I promise you a marriage so different from your first that we can call it something else, if that suits you.”

  Kate smiled against his vest and savored the comfort of being in the circle of his strong arms. After a moment, when his heartbeat had steadied and she’d caught her breath, she pulled back to look into his eyes.

  “I want to call it marriage. And as soon as possible, if that suits you. Because there is nothing in this world I want more than to call you my husband.”

  Ben didn’t answer with words, but he lifted Kate off of her feet and clasped her in a hug so fierce that it would have taken an effort to determine where he ended and she began.

  EPILOGUE

  February 3rd, 1889

  “They suit you. The gold bits match your hair.”

  Kate looked down at the strand of blue beads around her neck. Sally had found the loose lapis lazuli gems when cleaning Kate’s dressing room and
Will had them restrung, reserving a few beads to make a bracelet and earrings, and had presented them to her as a Christmas present.

  She gripped Ben’s arm more tightly, letting the pleasure of her husband’s nearness wash over her. Letting the past unpleasantness associated with the beads go.

  “Do you think so? I think the blue quite matches your eyes.”

  They were on their way to Ben’s family’s home, arms laden with birthday gifts for his mother and a long belated Christmas gift for his father who hadn’t attended the celebration at Will and Ada’s home.

  Ben slowed his pace and leaned in for a kiss.

  Kate lifted up and pressed her mouth to his, wishing there weren’t boxes between them. She didn’t want to pull away and nuzzled his cheek. “We’re scandalizing half of Belgravia.”

  “Let them look.”

  “We mustn’t be late.” Kate knew this visit would be the first time Ben had seen his father in years. She’d been nervous about the event for days and sensed Ben’s reluctance too. But when she nudged him, they began walking again.

  “I had a note from your mother after I sent one to thank her for the wedding gift.”

  “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “She was very kind, only twice mentioning the fact that we chose to have our wedding at the register office and that it was the smallest, most cramped room she’d ever seen.”

  “Only twice?”

  “Well, she might have hinted at it a few more times. She wrote of you as a boy and said she’d be sure to tell me many more stories this afternoon.”

  Ben pulled her to a stop. “Perhaps we should turn back now. For your sake and mine.”

  Kate laughed, unfettered, joyful, and louder than she normally allowed herself. She’d been doing a lot of that since becoming Mrs. Quinn.

  “Come on, husband.”

  Kate tugged and Ben came along.

  “Despite the coziness of the register office, I noticed that your Mr. Thrumble managed to squeeze himself in to attend our wedding.”

  Kate gave her husband’s arm an answering squeeze. “As a friend of the family. And I hope your detective’s eyes also noticed the woman who accompanied him. She’s his fiancé, Violet Norton, the granddaughter of our neighbor, Mrs. Margaret Norton.”

  “That was quick.”

  Ben smiled down at her as they walked and Kate imagined what he was thinking. They were hardly the couple to accuse anyone of haste.

  “Rose looked well, don’t you think?” Kate had been excited to tell Rose the news of her engagement and invite her to the wedding, and she’d been even happier when Rose agreed to come and live at the newly established settlement house. She and three other young women would be the first residents and were assisting Kate to get the place up and running properly.

  “Indeed.”

  The elegant townhouse of Ben’s sister came into view. Annabel insisted the long-awaited reunion between her father and brother take place on neutral ground, and Kate had enjoyed every visit they’d made to Ben’s sister and her husband. Still, after all she’d heard about Ben’s father, a pang of worry made Kate’s stomach dip.

  “So prepare me. Is he very fearsome?”

  Ben tightened his arm against his body, pulling her in closer, and grinned down at her. “To you he’ll be nothing but chivalrous and gracious. He’s very charming when he wants to be. And he’ll adore you, which will count in my favor.”

  Kate wasn’t certain Ben’s father would adore her. If he was disappointed in a man like Ben for doing what he thought was right, for seeking a vocation in which he believed he could do the most good, what would he think of a having a daughter-in-law who ran a settlement house in the East End?

  “Does he know of our plans?”

  “To be ridiculously happy and have as many children as we can manage?”

  Kate giggled and the package just under her chin nearly slipped from her arms.

  “Steady, love. He knows of the settlement house from Bel, no doubt, and understands we’ll both continue our work in Whitechapel.” Ben started walking again, arm in arm with Kate. “We don’t need his approval. I’ve lived without it for years. But I hope he’ll join Mother and Bel in giving us his blessing.”

  When they reached the Quinn’s townhouse, Ben lifted the ornate doorknocker and they stood waiting on the stoop together, still arm in arm. Kate looked up at her husband and a surge of pride and love made her smile.

  “What is it?”

  “I love you, Benjamin Quinn.”

  A bit of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, and he looked down at her, mouth tipping up in a grin, gaze teeming with emotion.

  “That is all the blessing I need.”

  Historical Note

  Dorian Penhurst is a fictional character born out of my imagination. There never was a Ripper suspect by that name. Like many suspects at the time, he was one of several that appeared guilty due to circumstantial evidence, though no hard facts would ever link him to the crime. As with any writer, my ideas are cobbled together from experiences, and I suppose he’s an amalgamation of tidbits I’ve read about the crimes and suspects over the years. His taunts to the police represent the many letters received by the police and press during the period of the investigation. The name Jack the Ripper itself came from a series of letters written by an anonymous sender who gave himself the “trade name,” as he called it, and claimed responsibility for the crimes.

  However, there was a suspect by the name of Montague John Druitt, who has always fascinated me. He was young and handsome, well educated, having attended Oxford, and worked as a barrister and then a schoolmaster in Blackheath in London around the time of the Ripper murders. In November 1888, the same month of the last crime ascribed to Jack the Ripper, the murder of Mary Jane Kelly, Druitt was dismissed from his post as schoolmaster, but the reason has never been made clear. On New Year’s Eve 1888, Druitt’s body was found floating in the Thames, his pockets filled with stones to weigh himself down, and he’d left a note for his brother indicating that he feared he would “become like mother.” His mother had been committed to an asylum earlier in the year.

  One of the reasons that Druitt was suspected at all was due to the timing coincidence of his suicide and the last murder ascribed to Jack the Ripper. Also, the police incorrectly identified him as a doctor rather than a lawyer by profession. Many involved in investigating the crimes felt the culprit was most likely someone with medical knowledge.

  I also wanted to point out Kate’s mention of Toynbee Hall. That is a fascinating history all on its own. Toynbee Hall was the first settlement house established in England or America and is still going strong today as a vital part of East End London. The “young woman in America” that Kate refers to in the story is Jane Addams, who established Hull House in Chicago after visiting London and being inspired by what she saw at Toynbee Hall. I took a bit of literary liberty, since Hull House was not established until 1889, but I wanted Kate to have the notion that such a settlement could be founded by a woman.

  If you have questions about the history of the period of find some tidbit to share with me, please email at [email protected]. I love to talk about history!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Christy Carlyle writes sensual, and sometimes downright steamy, historical romance, usually set in the Victorian era or Regency period. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines that are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there is nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with her die-hard belief in happy endings.

  To keep up with Christy’s upcoming releases, read exclusive excerpts, and be the first to get notification of giveaways, sign up for her newsletter here.

  Connect with Christy via Twitter @writerchristy or follow her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/historicalromanceauthorchristycarlyle.

  If you enjoyed this story, the kindest thing you can do for an author is to take the time to review his
or her book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, Apple, or at Goodreads.

  You can find Christy’s Goodreads page at here.

  Stay tuned for Brazen Wager, the next Whitechapel Wagers novel, coming in 2015!

 

 

 


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