She opened her mouth to speak, but he held his hand up to stop her. “Let me finish,” he said. “I knew I had no money to offer you, nothing with which to provide, it was silly of me to assume love would be enough. When I proposed, I felt certain you’d say yes. What girl would say no to an earl? Especially one that loved her? But you did.”
“But you know I had no choice. My family was in dire need of money and you had none,” she said. She released a heavy sigh. “I realize now that I still could have chosen you. My father gambled away the money I earned as a governess faster than I could send it to him. He died penniless. And now—”
“And now I have a fortune. All of it made for you, you know,” he said. “Every last pence.”
She shook her head, her brow furrowing. “I don’t understand. You’ve gone out of your way to become quite the scoundrel in London Society, how is that for me?”
“I earned every pence I own legitimately. Yes, I made risky ventures, but every one of them paid off and paid off well. I wanted to prove to you that I could be the man you needed, provide the funds you required in a husband. But by the time I’d earned twenty thousand pounds, my pain had turned to bitterness.”
“And becoming increasingly wealthy was a way to punish me,” she offered.
“Perhaps.” He shrugged, truly not knowing what had motivated him. He’d only known he’d loved her and losing her had changed him forever. “I do know that when I saw you again, I wanted revenge. I wanted you to hurt the way I had hurt.
“This is all very enlightening,” she said, her voice lined with resignation. “I am sorry I hurt you, Edward. Truly sorry. And it pains me to hear that you’re the sort of man who would plot revenge. The Edward I remember, the Edward I loved, would not have been so calculating.”
“I’m not, though. I only thought I was. What am I trying to say?” he asked, forking his fingers through his hair. In his mind, this had previously gone more eloquently than it was happening now.
She shook her head in confusion. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say that I still love you. I’m still ridiculously, maddeningly in love with you. Rachel, there’s never been anyone but you. Trust me, I’ve tried to find it.”
She held a hand up. “I really would rather not know about your escapades.”
“Of course not.” He offered her a smile. “But it was your fault.”
“My fault that you became an utter cad?” she asked.
He watched as the corners of her lips twitched. She was trying not to return his smile, which made him smile all the more. He moved closer to her so that now only the settee stood between them. “Precisely.”
“I don’t see your logic, but that isn’t important. I should like to return to the other part of the conversation. The bit where you said you loved me.” Now she smiled, so brilliantly his stomach jumped in response.
“I do. I’ll always love you. I would love to ask you to marry me again, but I am afraid you would decline the offer again.” He paused a moment, then continued. “Unless you’ve reconsidered. Seen the error of your ways and have decided the life of a countess is far better than that of a governess.”
She laughed. “Do you know why I told you no so many years ago?”
“Because you needed money immediately and I was an earl without a fortune.”
“Well, yes, that was the practical excuse. And it was the main reason, but there was another.” She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. “I believed you to be better than me. I loved you so much I didn’t want you to go through all the things you would have to endure in explaining why you married beneath your station. I am a lowly baron’s daughter and have no dowry to speak of and it was scandalous that we should have ever fallen in love to begin with.”
Edward heard all of her words, but the ones that echoed in his mind were that she had fallen in love with him, too. “So you admit you loved me once?”
“Love you still,” she said quietly. “Love you always.”
His heart pounded. “Then allow me to worry what others will say about our union. Be my wife, Rachel, don’t make me continue on this path. Think of all the hearts you will be saving by taking me off the market. Certainly someone as practical as you can appreciate that?”
She laughed again. “That is an excellent argument. I would be saving countless girls from throwing their hearts away by giving them to the notorious rake, Lord Fairbanks. You are ruthless, you know. Your reputation is quite scandalous.”
“Of course. And you are my heart, dear Rachel. Now agree to marry me so I can stop touting my love in such ridiculous ways. I’m beginning to sound like a poet.”
“Well, we mustn’t have that.” He grabbed her and pulled her to him, their legs pressed against the settee that still separated them. “I love you, Edward. I always have.”
“Did you regret turning me down the first time?”
“Instantly, but I still believed I’d done the right thing. As time went on, I was further able to convince myself of my noble sacrifice. But now I see I was a complete fool to walk away from you.”
“Well, I’ll see to it that you never make another noble sacrifice again,” he said.
She paused and pulled away from him a moment. “Oh, what of Mia?”
“Oh, I don’t think Mia’s heart will be broken. She’s only in love with me a little,” he said.
Rachel punched his arm. “Can you ever be serious?”
“Mia will be alright. She is a grown woman and she will survive. And I will pay for her to have another companion if you believe it to be a necessity for her,” he said.
“Yes, I do. She can manage on her own most of the time, but she shouldn’t have to. She would get so lonely. And I would have been lonely without her.”
“Well, I suppose she could come live with us,” he offered.
“Truly?” She kissed him then, full of love, full of passion and full of hope. “I have much work to make you a civilized husband, but that generous offer is an excellent beginning.”
He lifted her off her feet and pressed her down onto the settee. “Before you civilize me, allow me to scandalize you once more.”
***
Juliet had left Alex’s side in the lobby of the opera house while she had gone to the water closet. When she had not returned twenty minutes later, he had gone to look for her when a servant stopped him. Alex looked at the footman. “So she has already gone home?” he asked.
“Yes,” the footman said with a nod. “Miss Beckinsale said she was not feeling well and that she was going home.” He smiled. “She said to thank you for a lovely evening.”
Alex watched the servant walk away and disappear into the back of the theatre. Alex walked through the lobby and out the doors to the street. A line of carriages sat waiting for patrons who stood around conversing. Alex looked for the Beckinsale carriage, but found no sign of it.
He would send over a note in the morning, checking on her welfare. But for now he would go home. Go home to Mia.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Ripper had her right where he wanted her. The lovely Juliet Beckinsale. He turned the key and locked her chaperone in the WC. He’d knocked the woman on the head, merely to make her unconscious, there was no need to waste his time and dirty his hands killing her. When she came to, she’d realize she’d lost her charge.
It took nothing more than a handful of pounds offered to a footman to give Lord Carrington wrong information. Another handful to inform Miss Beckinsale that her carriage was waiting around the corner.
The same footman came now to Jack. They exchanged a few words and then he was left alone. He made a show of being frustrated as he walked closer to Miss Beckinsale.
“Never heard of such a thing. The theatre telling me where I can park my carriage,” he muttered as he passed her.
She stepped toward him. “Pardon me, my lord. Did I hear you say something about them moving your carriage, too? I must admit I’m rather befu
ddled by the entire situation.”
“It is most frustrating, is it not?” he asked.
She eyed the carriages waiting on the street in front of them and nodded.
He started to walk away, then paused. “I could escort you around the corner to where they said the carriages were taken.”
She paused a moment as if considering, then she smiled warmly. “Thank you, my lord, that is most kind of you.”
It was really too easy. The Ripper held his arm out to her and she gladly accepted.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ever since Mia had shown up in his box, Alex had wanted to drag her into his arms and ensure himself that she was safe. He’d stormed up the stairs and entered her room with no regard for the fact that she might be sleeping. She wasn’t. She sat in a chair near the window, a single candle burned next to her, though clearly just for the maid’s benefit.
“Who’s there?” she asked with a start. She came to her feet.
“It’s me, Mia, don’t be alarmed,” he said.
“Alex,” she breathed his name with such relief he felt guilty for not leaving sooner. To hell with his responsibilities to properly court his betrothed.
He closed the distance between them in what seemed like two steps and pulled her straight into his arms. She clung to him tightly and he breathed in the earthy scent of her. A silent conversation seemed to pass between them, one where he inquired about her well-being and told her he’d been afraid for her, and where she said she was relieved he was home and she was in his arms, yet they spoke no such words. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned into that touch, relishing the feel of his strong palm against her face.
She had already changed out of her dress and her hair was once again in a long plait down her back. The only thing she wore at the moment was a night rail, a thin and blessedly sheer concoction that left nothing to his imagination. He could easily see her pert breasts, the dark rose color of her areolas and the dark triangle of hair between her legs. God, she was beautiful. He grew heavy with want for her.
She reached up, placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him down to her for a kiss. A kiss full of tenderness and promise and things Alex dared not speak of, let alone consider. Soon he would be married to another woman, but tonight he could have Mia one last time. And he knew it would indeed be their last time together.
Yes, he could take her as his mistress, but he knew he’d never have his fill of her and what kind of life would that be for Juliet? Or Mia. He had to consider them and not simply his own desires.
His mother had been miserable her entire life because of a child his father had sired outside of their marriage. He would not do that to the woman he was going to marry or this woman before him who had come to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time. Life had not been kind to her and he didn’t want to contribute to that.
She kissed him back with an intensity that stole his breath. Her hands clasped onto his jacket and shoved it off his shoulders, then began working on his shirt.
“I need to touch you,” she said against his mouth.
It was all the encouragement he needed. He moved her hands out of the way and quickly shrugged out of his clothes. Once he’d removed everything he stepped close to her again and she took no time to put her hands on him. Her soft fingers traced the muscles along his torso. Sweet torture.
He bent in front of her and placed his mouth on one of her breasts. He covered her through the filmy fabric, licking and kissing. She gasped, tossed her head back. Her fingers, both hands, dug into his hair, holding his head to her breast. Her passion astounded him, so in touch with her own feelings she was. Most women were not so earthy, so raw in their expression, and he was like a drunkard drinking her in.
He laved her with more kisses, leaving one breast and moving to the next, then trailing down her stomach to her navel. He gripped her bottom, holding her to him. Then he put his mouth on her center, breathed in the musky scent that only fueled his desire. His tongue flicked over her, across the fabric, and he knew he drove her to near madness.
Her knees buckled as his ministrations continued. He didn’t miss a beat, though, he carefully picked her up and carried her over to the bed. No sooner had he laid her down than he returned to her body. More kisses, more touches, more moans of pleasure until they both lay on the bed satiated and breathing heavily.
“Alex,” Mia said softly in the darkness. She had been quiet for so long he’d thought she’d fallen asleep.
“Mmmm,” he murmured.
“We could have an arrangement.” She rolled over onto her side, propped herself up on her elbow. Her long braid hung over her waist, the tail of it dangled across her flat stomach. She looked every inch the seductress. “The two of us,” she continued, “we could have a relationship. If that is what you desire,” her voice was tentative, as if she wasn’t so certain of what she proposed.
“Mia, what are you suggesting?” he managed to ask. He knew what she’d say, and he shouldn’t make her voice the words, but he hoped he was wrong, knowing her offer would be damned difficult to turn down.
“I could be your mistress. I know plenty of men have them and if you were considering taking one, I figured I could offer to be her, as it were,” she said. She bit down on her lip as her eyes shuttered closed.
There, she’d said it aloud. It wasn’t so long ago that he’d had every intention to ask her that very thing. And then everything had changed when that newspaper article had hit London. Back when she was a secret, he’d considered making her his. But now that everyone knew she was alive, she needed the opportunity to find a husband.
That wouldn’t happen, though. He’d ruined her. No man would accept her now. Not only that, but at the thought of another man with his hands on her body, anger raged through him. Hell, maybe he should just make her his mistress.
But what about that situation with his mother? He couldn’t bear it if an arrangement with Mia left her as bitter as his mother. And if the fact that Mia’s mother could simply abandon her was any indication of the sort of woman she was, well, it seemed that unfaithfulness could certainly take its toll on a person. He couldn’t, no he wouldn’t do that to Mia.
He stood from her bed and pulled on his trousers. He picked up the remaining pieces of his clothing, pressed his boots to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “but I cannot.”
***
The Ripper watched Juliet Beckinsale.
She would be his first of noble blood, all the others had been servants and whores. What was the difference, truly? Merely her social standing, but weren’t they all just whores? Perhaps some in better clothing, but whores nonetheless.
At the moment she prattled on about something unimportant. He’d asked her a question, though, to make her feel comfortable about walking with him into a darkened alleyway. And of course, by his clothes, she would have felt safe. He was a gentleman. Of noble birth himself.
She’d been assured her carriage was down this path and when they hadn’t quickly found it, he’d acted as befuddled as she had, which had instilled in her a sense of camaraderie between the two of them. She was young and had been raised not to ask many questions, and though the instructions had given her momentary pause, she’d followed him when he’d stomped off in this direction feigning annoyance at the change of plans.
“Don’t you agree?” he heard her ask now.
“I’m certain that I don’t,” he found himself saying. She’d prattled on long enough. They were sufficiently deep enough into the alleyway that it was unlikely anyone would hear her cry out. Besides, all it would take was one swift slice of the throat and she would have no sound left in her.
“I beg your pardon,” she said.
“You talk too bloody much,” he said.
She stopped walking and eyed him warily. The nearly full moon above them shone brightly onto her fair skin, illuminating her confused expression. Her eyes darted to the left, then the right, and her confusion melte
d away under the dawning realization that she was in danger. The fear rounded her eyes, then she recovered.
Afraid or not, she would not forget her station, and an earl’s daughter though she may be, he was above her and she would maintain propriety. “I believe I will walk back around to the front and wait for my carriage. If you will excuse me.” She turned to go and he nearly let her, let her walk away, but then he remembered why he was here.
He wanted to punish Lord Carrington. Wanted to let him know that when the time came it would be Mia’s turn and no amount of protection could keep her hidden away forever.
He withdrew his blade and jerked the pretty miss back to him, so close that he could feel the breath of her scream on his face.
“You’re very pretty,” he said. He placed the blade against her cheek. “Too pretty, really. Doesn’t give the other girls much of a fair chance.” He pressed the blade into her skin until a bead of blood appeared.
She whimpered and tried to jerk away from him, but he held firm. She kicked at his legs, landing quite a blow to his shin. He backhanded her. “Careful.” Then he smiled. “Though I admit I like the fight.”
He pulled her tight against him again, stood in a way that her body fit between his legs, preventing her from kicking him again. He put the blade back to her face, right by her ear, and dragged it down to her mouth, leaving a bright red line that began to weep down her cheek.
“Please, I won’t tell them who you are and what you did, just let me go,” she said.
“You don’t even know who I am. Oh, you might know my family. But I mean me, my name. I’m the Ripper, the one and only Jack the Ripper. I’m infamous and you will be, too, as soon as I cut you,” he said.
“No, I don’t know your family. I don’t know anything about you,” she pled.
“Do you think me a fool?” he growled. “You won’t be surviving long enough to tell them who I am.”
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