Robyn DeHart - [Dangerous Liaisons 01]

by The Secrets of Mia Danvers

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Annie,” she said, then swallowed. “Please my lord, let me go on. I should be getting on home. My family will be expecting me.”

  He loosened his grip for a fraction of a second and waited to see if she’d run, but she didn’t. She’d been taught to obey those above her station in life. She was a good girl. For a moment he considered releasing her. But then he remembered the reason he’d selected her. She wasn’t really his type, but she’d attracted Drew’s attention and they’d had a confrontation that had sent her home early. Tonight the Ripper would see how foolish the police could be.

  “Annie, I merely want to talk. You’re such a pretty thing,” he said, intentionally toying with her. They walked in silence for several more minutes, deeper down the alley until he could pull her into the darkness between the buildings.

  “Oh, God,” she said.

  “You can beg all you want, but I know you’re a whore. Tell me you’re a whore, Annie.”

  “No. I’m not,” she cried. “I’m chaste. Waiting for my Phillip.” Tears poured down her cheeks and she shook her head vehemently.

  Chaste or not, tonight she would be his, cut like all the rest of them. He pinned her against the wall. Her eyes widened with fear and tears fell down her cheeks by the dozens. She shook her head with a plea on her lips, but he held her throat so tight she couldn’t make a sound.

  Then he cut her in a thin slice down her cheek; her warm blood covered his hands. She cried out, making a hoarse sound despite his grip on her throat. She’d squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Open your eyes, damn you,” he said.

  She shook her head as much as she was physically able to.

  He pressed the blade to her throat. “Open. Your. Eyes.”

  She squeezed her eyes tighter and again shook her head.

  He didn’t have time for this. She was ruining everything. One of his girls would have done much better. With one great slash he sliced her from ear to ear. Blood showered over him.

  He wiped off his face as her body slumped to the ground.

  The Ripper stood over the fallen girl, her blood still warm on his hands. Her large brown eyes stared up at him, lifeless and frozen in the fear of her final moments. He’d torn her dress in his anger and the only bits of it that remained were the sleeves and a portion of the backside of the bodice.

  He’d cut her, too. Cut her throat and cut her face, and then cut into her stomach. He carved out the part he wanted, reached into her body and ripped it out. The slippery organ was still warm in his hand. It would be a nice addition to his collection. He dropped it into the canvas bag tied at his waist.

  He reached into his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief and wiped off his hands. Also inside his pocket he removed a note. The damned police wanted to pretend that he wasn’t Jack the Ripper, in a foolish effort to keep panic from seizing the wealthy and entitled of London. He wanted them and everyone else to know that the Ripper wasn’t done.

  He wouldn’t be caught, no, he’d toy with them, send another to the gallows in his stead, then he’d cut some more.

  This Mia Danvers, his little witness, might be protected now, safe by the Duke’s side. But the Duke couldn’t be there forever and when that happened, Jack the Ripper would be ready for her.

  He knelt and pinned the note to the dead girl’s cheek. They would be sure to find it here.

  Chapter Nineteen

  There was a rapping at the bedchamber door. Alex slipped out of the bed quickly to ensure the disruption didn’t awaken Mia.

  “Your Grace, I do apologize,” Hodges said. The old butler wore a long nightshirt and matching cap. “But I’m afraid Inspector Jacobs is here to see you.”

  Alex frowned. “At this hour?” When Hodges nodded, Alex glanced back at his bed and Mia’s sleeping form. “Tell him I’ll be down in fifteen minutes. I should like to dress myself first.”

  “Yes, of course,” Hodges said, then turned and crept back down the hall.

  Alex padded back over to his bed and scooped Mia up into his arms. He managed to open the door that adjoined their two rooms and placed her into her own bed. She stirred, but did not awaken. He wrapped the covers around her and admired the sight of her dark lashes resting against her fair cheeks. He brushed a piece of her hair off of her forehead, then bent to place a gentle kiss. She’d awaken alone, but that couldn’t be helped.

  He returned to his room, dressed quickly, then made his way downstairs to his study. “You have wretched timing, Simon,” Alex said as he entered the room. But in all honesty he was thankful for the excuse to get Mia out of his bed. He’d had a devil of a time keeping himself from taking her.

  “Yes, I realize,” Simon agreed.

  “What is it that you need at . . . ,” he glanced at the clock piece on the mantle, “precisely what time is it?”

  “Four in the morning,” Simon said.

  “Do you not sleep?”

  “Not when dead girls are found on my streets,” Simon said.

  “Another one?” Alex asked. He dropped into a chair near where Simon stood. No need to sit behind his desk for this conversation.

  “I’m afraid so. Right outside of the Duck and the Dog. Are you familiar?” Simon asked.

  Alex shook his head. “No. I’ve never been much for pubs.”

  “It is a favorite of your brother’s. He was there last night. Became a little too friendly with the victim before she was sent home by her employer and Drew left. Her body was found an hour later.”

  Alex stood and immediately went to pour himself a brandy. He offered Simon one with an upturned glass, but the younger man refused.

  “We have a problem,” Simon said. “I tried Drew’s townhome first, but he is not home and the servants haven’t seen him.”

  “This I realize,” Alex said. “I haven’t been able to consistently locate my brother, either. You believe he might have seen something?”

  “Perhaps. My primary concern is Drew seems to have been in all the locations of the recent killings. Alex, I don’t have to tell you that it doesn’t look good,” Simon said.

  “Of course not,” Alex said dumbly. And Mia thought he smelled of the killer. It had to all be a coincidence. Drew was not a killer. Alex would know if his own brother was such a villainous murderer. He made his way back across the room.

  “I was hoping to find Drew here, but he is not the only reason I came. I should like to inquire about Miss Danvers,” Simon said.

  Alex stopped mid-sip. “What about Mia?”

  “Where is she, Alex? Is she safe?” Simon asked.

  “Yes, she’s here with me. She and Miss Webster have been here for a few days. Why, what has happened, Simon?”

  “We received a note,” Simon said. “With this last victim. The killer knows her, knows she’s under your protection.”

  “He left a note for Mia?” Alex tried, in vain, to ignore the thundering in his ears. He knew that was his heart pounding with nerves. But he’d learned long ago that succumbing to your own fear would only put yourself and those around you in danger. He couldn’t afford that. “Where?” Alex asked. Alex rang for Hodges and the man appeared before Simon had time to answer Alex’s question. Alex turned to his butler. “Go and see if my brother is here by chance, then report back immediately.” Hodges nodded and left the room.

  “No, not a note for her, but rather about her,” Simon said. “He left us, the police, a letter.”

  Alex swore. He set the glass down before he crushed it between his fingers.

  “He wrote about Mia, that he knew she was with you,” Simon said. “His usual ‘Dear Boss’ tirade, only this time he spouted all about knowing there was a witness, and how when he caught her, he’d—”

  Hodges came in at that moment. “Master Andrew is not in his old rooms, Your Grace.”

  “Let me know if he happens to arrive, Hodges.” The butler nodded as he slipped back out of the room.

  “There’s more,” Sim
on said.

  “Christ, Simon.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Out with it, then,” Alex said.

  “It’s Jack. The killer.” Simon released a heavy breath. “The letter proves it.”

  “The Ripper?” It was worse than he’d thought. He’d wondered. Everyone had. But there were so many differences, no letters to the police, no taunts. He’d hoped this killer was different, easier to catch. “But I thought you said these murders were different.”

  “I did, initially. There was no mutilation on the first two. They were simply killed, gruesomely, yes, but not carved up as Jack had done with his previous victims. But these more recent ones.” Simon shook his head.

  “You’re certain?” Alex asked.

  “I have absolutely no doubts. This note proved it to me. The handwriting is a perfect match, as is the language. It’s him. Taunting and baiting. The bastard even signed the note, ‘The Ripper is back.’” Simon raked his fingers through his hair. “Frankly I think he is angry that we hadn’t already made the connection, that we were considering a different killer for the first few victims.”

  “And you believe Mia is in significant danger?” Alex asked.

  “I do.” Simon nodded. “As far as I know he’s never targeted a specific victim. His kills have always been about opportunity. Alex, I need to know how he knew,” he said. “How did he know who she was, her name, that she was a witness and that she was here under your protection? Who knows the truth about why she’s here?”

  Alex said nothing for several minutes as he tried to navigate the situation. “My brother,” Alex said. His stomach tightened. “And Simms. I told Edward. Christ, I should keep my mouth shut.”

  “Drew knew she was a witness?”

  “Drew knew there was a witness. I thought he could be of service in gathering information considering his usual haunts.” He shook his head. “I never mentioned Mia, but he’s not a damn idiot. I didn’t realize he knew she was staying here.”

  “Well, you mentioned someone had broken into her cottage,” Simon said.

  “Yes, that’s when I brought them here to stay. To keep them safer.”

  “Have you seen your brother recently?” Simon asked.

  “Yes. A couple of days ago.”

  “And how did he seem?”

  “Angry,” Alex said. “But that’s Drew. He’s always bloody angry about something.” It was on the tip of Alex’s tongue to tell Simon the truth about Drew’s lineage, that somehow explaining that Drew was a bastard would give reason for his anger. But it wasn’t his story to tell. Still, being an angry son of a bitch didn’t make you a killer.

  “So he’s been in the house and therefore could have seen that Mia was here under your protection,” Simon said.

  “You think this further points to him being guilty.” Alex rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. He cursed. “I know there’s nothing I can do, if you need to arrest him, I can’t stop you. But I will continue to fight to prove his innocence.”

  “So you believe him to be innocent?” Simon asked. “It makes a difference if after everything you’ve looked into you still believe someone else to be the killer.”

  “My brother is an ass, I fully admit that,” Alex said. “But I do not believe him capable of hurting a woman in such a way. Breaking a woman’s heart, yes. Seducing a virgin, yes. But brutalizing and murdering a woman, no, I simply do not believe he could do it. Though I have suspected for a while he wanted to kill our mother, but that’s not related to this,” he offered with a weak smile. “I think it’s far more likely that Drew opened his damn mouth and told the wrong person. He’s drunk nearly all the time.”

  Obviously the murderer was upset by the fact that he’d had a witness. Alex couldn’t help but wonder if the killer knew everything there was to know about Mia. Alex gave Simon details of the break-in to Mia’s cottage.

  “As I mentioned, she knew it had been the killer in her cottage because she smelled his tobacco,” Alex said. “And he stole a sculpture Mia had done of herself.”

  “I looked into that after our last meeting but everything still leads to your brother. Almost conveniently so,” Simon said. “Either he’s involved in some fashion or someone is working damned hard to make it look that way.”

  “You think someone is trying to pin the crimes on him?” Alex asked.

  Simon nodded. “Someone he knows. An enemy? Or perhaps even a friend,” he said. “In any case, it’s something to consider.” Simon made a note in his notebook. “Perhaps I need a list of all of Drew’s friends. And it would help if I could have a conversation with him.”

  “You can check his usual haunts.” Alex rattled off a list of the clubs Drew liked to frequent as well as the men he knew he was with most of the time. “I’m certain if you could speak to him you would be able to remove him from your list of suspects.”

  “I hope you’re right. I, like Drew, always have,” Simon said. “As for Mia, I’d like to take her into custody. Make certain she’s protected now that the Ripper knows who she is.”

  “Absolutely not.” The thought of Mia not being close-by where he could ensure her safety—no, he simply wouldn’t consider it.

  “Why, might I ask?”

  “Because I can protect her here,” Alex said.

  “Alex, don’t you think the police could do a better job? I could guarantee her safety. This is Jack the Ripper we’re talking about, the worst killer London has ever seen. Perhaps the worst killer in the entire world,” Simon said.

  “I am certain I can keep her safe,” Alex said.

  “But it’s not merely about her safety. It’s about finding the Ripper. He has to be stopped and Mia is the only person who can identify him.”

  “Still. I know I can keep her safe. I have training, skills that the police do not have. I have been in battle, protected my soldiers. I would give my life to protect her. None of your men can say that.”

  “Perhaps not.” Simon paused before he spoke again. “So she is special, then. To you?”

  Alex felt himself frown. “No, it’s not that. It’s merely a code I carry. I would have died for any of my men in the field, this is no different.”

  “Are you so certain about that?” Simon asked.

  Something nagged at Alex, doubting his own words even before he spoke them, but still he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, I’d suggest you continue to keep her close to your side. I have no doubt that if the Ripper gets her alone he will kill her.”

  Simon’s words chilled Alex to his core. It was dawning on him that as long as he was able, he wanted to protect Mia. Even after this murderer was caught. Alex knew that gave him two options: He could marry Mia or make her his mistress.

  Mia had once mentioned she would willingly go to one of his country estates until all of this murder business was solved. Or he could purchase a townhome for her here in the city so he could keep an eye on things. Pay for her to be comfortable. Hire her some staff to cater to her needs. Everything a man did for his mistress.

  Wasn’t that what he wanted? A way to protect her and to have her as well? He was so damned afraid that once he allowed himself to think about that, to truly give himself permission to take her and seduce her completely, he’d never let her leave his bed.

  Alex walked to his desk and withdrew a small pistol. He would give this to Mia, it was small enough for her to handle. “I’ll keep her safe. And I will find Drew for you,” he told Simon.

  ***

  Two days passed with no more killings and no more messages to the police or to Mia. Alex was feeling fairly secure in Mia’s safety and he had managed to keep his hands to himself in that time. Not only that, but he had not had any other altercations with his mother. So it was that he nearly stumbled when he found her sitting at the breakfast table that morning. She never roused before ten in the morning and here it was a quarter past seven. He nodded to his mother acknowledging her presence, but said nothing. After her antics with Mia, he found the only thi
ngs he wanted to say to her were unkind.

  He busied himself preparing a plate of the foods laid out on the buffet. Since his visit with Simon, Alex had spent the majority of his time investigating the people on the list he’d gotten from the tobacco shop. So far he hadn’t come up with anything that was terribly useful. And a couple of the people on the list were turning out to be rather elusive. Now, this morning, he’d have his mother to contend with.

  “Mother, it’s rather surprising that you’re awake now. Are you ill?” he asked.

  “Of course I’m not ill,” she said with a flip of her napkin. She placed it into her lap. “I am the very picture of health.”

  “And in a delightful mood this morning, I see,” Drew said as he stepped into the dining room. “Perhaps later we can find some neighborhood children for you to snack on.” He grabbed a hunk of bread and dropped himself into a chair opposite their mother.

  Alex half-waited to see if his brother would lean back and prop his feet up on the table. When he didn’t, Alex realized he’d truly been wanting Drew to do that very thing. For a split second Alex considered sending for Simon, a chance for the inspector to finally speak to his brother and allow Drew to clear up this mess. But he hesitated.

  “Are you going to allow him to speak to me in such a foul manner?” she asked Alex.

  “What would you have me do? He’s a grown man.” Alex set his plate on the table, then took his seat. “Drew, the least you could do is attempt to be civilized.” Alex didn’t want to chastise his brother for a variety of reasons. Primarily he didn’t want to scare the man off, as he needed time to speak with him. Alone.

  Drew finished chewing his bread and shrugged. He pointed the remainder of his makeshift breakfast at their mother. “What are you doing awake so early?” he asked.

  “What the devil are you doing crawling back into this house smelling like a street urchin?” she asked, her voice raising to a pitch Alex was certain could chip glass.

  Drew rolled his eyes and continued to chew on his bread. He took a sip of coffee.