Shadows Fall Away

by Forbes, Kit

  “No really, you look great.” And it was true. She looked really nice in her new dress. It was dark gray and while it didn’t have lots of fancy lace and pearls the way Genie and her sister’s had at the other party, but it had the same kind of tucks and pleats and the skirt draping my mom had gushed over when getting an advanced peek at the costumes for the film version of her book.

  I reached into my pocket. “Something’s missing though.”

  Mrs. O’Connell blanched and looked frantically to her friend. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I grinned. “You need some bling.” I took the pin out and unwrapped it. The ladies oohed and ahhed and insisted it must be real. “If it’s ‘previously owned merchandise of questionable origin’ I had nothing to do with it. I bought it in the market.”

  The ladies rushed off to the bedroom to fuss in front of the mirror with the placement of the pin, and I excused myself to go down and rustle us up a cab. As I walked to the other street, I thought about Agatha again and Madam Z’s spiel about it being time. Being caught in that storm at a costume party got me here so maybe being at a party here might send me back. But if it did, what about the Ripper? If Palmer was him, where did that leave Genie? Was Palmer going to marry her and take her away from London? Would he continue killing? Would he hurt her, too?

  ***

  I tried to get my mind off Genie as the hackney cab made its clip-cloppy way across town. As much as I wanted her to be safe I knew I had to keep my mind on the plan at hand. Catching the Ripper. Correction—catching Palmer. I focused on Mrs. O’Connell. I guess I’d never thought much about it but it was pretty obvious she didn’t get out much and certainly didn’t spend much time in the “better” part of London.

  “You sure I look all right? I’m not going to embarrass myself, am I?”

  “No way. You look great. In fact, you look a little like Queen Victoria herself with your hair done up that way and with the shiny combs tucked in there.”

  “You an’ your flattering again.”

  “I mean it.” I paused and wondered how to say what was on my mind. “You deserve a fancy night out. I hope you have a really good time, but the Trambleys and their friend…I haven’t spent a lot of time with them but—”

  “Don’t you worry, young Mark. I was in service when I was girl. I know all about how the likes of them treat the likes of us.” She chuckled. “But that don’t mean I won’t be taking full advantage of their hospitality and fine champagne.”

  I laughed. “You go, girl.”

  From the mini traffic jam at the end of the Trambleys’ block you’d think we’d all gotten the memo to arrive at once. While we waited to make our way inside, I scoped out the other party-goers. Obviously I didn’t know them but I saw a few familiar faces—the top dog doctors from the hospital as well as some of the snooty ladies from that fundraiser. Once we got close enough to look inside I wondered if Sarah, the maid, had any elbows left. She’d sure expended a lot of elbow grease to make every brass and wooden things shine like it came straight from Buckingham Palace.

  It appeared they rented another maid and a butler to man the door and take care of coats and hats. From what I saw, they’d cleared all big furniture out of the living room and dining room to open up the first floor for everyone to congregate. The garden door in the living room was opened out and they’d put up a tent like thing for a bit more space where a string quartet played some seriously dull polite party music. Mrs. O. and I followed the line as it veered across the hall to the dining room where the receiving line was.

  Genie had been beautiful in the blue dress she’d worn to the fundraiser and tonight she looked like a princess. All smiles and dressed in silky pink with matching fabric flowers hugging her shoulders and circling the front to dip down towards her waist. She wore a black velvet choker with an oval cameo thing in the middle. Palmer was right there by her side, spending as much time looking down at the hint of her boobs as he was greeting the guests.

  But when we got closer I realized Genie’s smile didn’t even come close to touching her eyes. It hadn’t been often but I’d seen her smile enough to know this was fake. She sure wasn’t bouncing off the walls with happiness the way my aunt did when she got engaged.

  Palmer tried to look down on me but failed hard because of my height advantage. “How are you faring these days, Stewart? Not following doctor’s order and keeping that leg immobilized?”

  “If the doctor’s orders were actually helpful I would have followed them. How’re things with you, Jacko? Still bullying disabled old men and nurses afraid of losing their jobs?”

  I winked at Genie who bit her lip to keep from laughing.

  She cleared her throat loudly, reached to shake my hand, and tugged me away, shifting to greet Mrs. O’Connell so I had to move down the line to her parents and sister.

  Genie looked genuinely happy to see Mrs. O. The two of them were like typical BFFs who hadn’t talked to each other in days and had to play catch-up. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Genie’s family was less happy to have a “slum dweller” in their house.

  “Mrs. O’Connell, that’s a rather lovely brooch you have.” Mrs. Trambley eyed the pin I’d bought.

  “It was a gift from Mr. Stewart. Isn’t it ever so grand?”

  Genie’s mother hit me with a stare of doom then turned back. “I had one similar once.” She grabbed Dr. Trambley’s arm with her free hand and from his quick wince she must have been putting a death grip on his arm. “Doesn’t that look like my old brooch, Cornelius?”

  Mrs. O. gave me a worried look.

  “I bought that today, in the market. It’s just costume jewelry.”

  The doctor pried his wife’s fingers from his arm and smiled. “It’s vaguely similar, dear, but clearly not the same. Please do enjoy yourselves.”

  Mrs. O’Connell smiled and ushered us into the hall. “You sure you didn’t nick this when you stayed here?”

  “No! And if I had I’m not dumb enough to make sure they’d see it.”

  She relaxed. “Eugenia did say her poor mum’s nerves were frayed and I imagine plannin’ all this would set anyone on edge.”

  People who’d overheard the weird exchange gave us suspicious looks but once everyone started liquoring up they ignored us. Mrs. O’Connell relaxed, too and the party got going. I even managed to play good little escort boy and muddled my way through two waltzes on the wooden dance floor in the garden tent.

  Mrs. O. caught site of Sarah a bit after and ended up following the maid back down to the kitchen. I guess she liked her comfort zone and would probably spend a nice long time down there helping out and being with her “own kind” where she didn’t feel self-conscious.

  I found myself a quiet corner chair I hoped for and snagged a glass of champagne before planting my butt for the duration. My ankle ached like a bitch and I really wanted to put it up but there weren’t many options for that. I kept an eye peeled for Genie and caught sight of her a few times. She was still all smiles but when she passed close enough I saw the happiness still didn’t touch her eyes, not like it had when she talked to Mrs. O.

  I wanted to grab her and give her a shake and ask why she was doing this to herself. She was better than this. She deserved a hell of a lot better than some scumbag who was most likely a serial killer.

  Of course in this time and place a girl like Genie didn’t have many choices. Her parents would let her be a nurse, but they sure weren’t going to let her have any career beyond being a wife and mother. Who the hell was I to interfere, especially since I wouldn’t here much longer?

  Tossing back the rest of the champagne, I gave the glass to a passing maid and leaned my head back against the wall and tried not to think about the nagging ache in my leg.

  “Are you all right, Mark?”

  Genie was there, leaning down, unbuttoning her glove and pulling her hand free enough to check my forehead.

  “I’m good, sore from spinn
ing Mrs. O. around the dance floor.”

  “If you’re sure, but I can get Father or Jack—”

  “I don’t need Jack. Speaking of that, I guess you and I are back to first names? You called me Mark just now.”

  She straightened and adjusted her glove. “Clearly the champagne has gone to my head. Do forgive me, Mr. Stewart.”

  I stood. “I wasn’t complaining. Not at all.”

  She grinned, the amusement making her pretty eyes sparkle in the gaslight. “You look beautiful tonight, Genie.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself.”

  “Only the best for you.”

  She blushed deeper and looked down to the floor. I took hold her hand and she held mine back. Her grip was tight like she was reaching for a lifeline. “Why are you doing this, Genie, why him? He’s not good enough for you.”

  She pulled her hand away. “What would you have me do? I’m expected to make a good match. Would you propose I marry someone like you? You may be charming and fun but what does someone like you have to offer?”

  “Friendship? The freedom to do what you want and be whoever you want to be?”

  Her blue eyes went wide and tears formed. She blinked them back. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my guests.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Genie

  I slipped out the rear door in Father’s surgery and stood out by the side gate, trying to compose myself before I did something foolish like dissolve into a flood of tears. It was bloody cold out. My bare shoulders and arms were a mass of gooseflesh but I didn’t care. I couldn’t think in there. Couldn’t breathe in there. It was suffocating, crowded, and enough to make one lose one’s mind.

  I couldn’t do this! I couldn’t be the perfect proper woman everyone wanted me to be! I looked down the darkened street. I needed to go. I had to get away before it was too late, before I was caged like an animal forever. But where? How? I hadn’t a shilling to my name. The little I had saved was placed in an account “to build a nest egg for my and Jack’s married life.” In short, it was now Jack’s to do with as he saw fit. Oh God. I was his to do with as he saw fit. What if he was like Phoebe’s husband? What if he infected me with something dreadful?

  “Eugenia, darling, whatever are you doing out here?”

  Oh God. There was no escape now.

  I didn’t turn to look at Jack. I knew I’d throw up if I did. Instead I took a long slow breath and calmed myself as best I could. “It was too warm inside. I wanted to get some fresh air.” I cringed when he placed his hands upon my shoulders.

  “Well, you aren’t warm now, you’re freezing.” He removed his hands. “Take my jacket and let’s get you inside.”

  I clutched the jacket to me. “I don’t want to go back in. I’m not in the mood for a party.”

  “Why don’t you rest a few minutes? It will do you a world of good. It’s been a hectic few weeks for all of us.”

  He placed his hands upon my shoulders once more and turned me toward him. “Come, Eugenia.”

  I refused to move. “Are you my friend, Jack?”

  “I’m soon to be your husband, silly goose. That’s far more important than being a friend.”

  “Is it?”

  “Don’t talk nonsense. Come inside before you catch a chill,” he said matter-of-factly then took hold of my hand and led me back into the house. We exited the surgery and crossed over to the servants’ stairs at the end of the hall. I had the feeling of being watched and looked over my shoulder to see Mark Stewart.

  What does someone like you have to offer?

  The freedom to do what you want and be whoever you want to be.

  The gas lamp in my room was set to low. Jack turned it up and removed his jacket from me.

  “We are friends though, aren’t we, Jack? Friendship is important even in a marriage, don’t you think?”

  He frowned and touched my forehead. “You’re talking nonsense. Let me go down and get something from the surgery to help you rest.”

  “I am not talking nonsense. I’m simply asking a simple question. Don’t you think friendship is an important part of marriage?”

  He smiled and stepped closer, reached out to caress my cheek with the back of his hand. “I can offer you so much more than a friend, Eugenia. Perhaps that’s what you need. You’re a passionate woman about so many things. You need to set that passion free. I can help you do that…”

  His voice trailed off and he leaned in for a kiss, our first real kiss. He tasted of brandy and cigars and it made me want to gag. I pulled back, gasped for air, and Jack laughed.

  “Such a dear frightened lamb. You need not be afraid. I know exactly what to do.” He kissed my neck, my shoulder, tugged at the top of my bodice, and kissed the swell of my bosom. He reached round the back of my bodice and undid the first few hooks. I pulled away. “We mustn’t. Not now. Not here.”

  “No one will even notice we’re gone.” He pulled me close, wrapped his arms around my waist so I couldn’t pull away again. He kissed me hard, pressed against me, and maneuvered me back to the high bedpost until the twisted wood dug into my back.

  He nuzzled my neck, licked my ear, and made an icy chill slide down my spine. He cupped me through my bodice, squeezed until I winced. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you. I know you feel the same. We don’t need to play these games any longer.”

  I whimpered in pain when he shoved his hand into my top and griped my flesh. “Jack, no. Not yet.”

  “Yes. Now.”

  I closed my eyes trying in vain not to cry. I thought I imagined the sound of the voice that echoed around me.

  “Keep your dick to yourself and back off, asshole.”

  Jack let go. I opened my eyes. Mark Stewart stood, like an angry sentinel practically filling doorway.

  Fists clenched at his sides he stepped inside, got between Jack and me. “Get out and leave her alone.”

  “You have no right!”

  “You’ve got no right to be in here either so get the fuck out and leave Genie alone.”

  “She is my fiancée.”

  “Big fucking deal. You think that gives you the right to rape her?”

  “Why, you—”

  He advanced, but Mark shot forward and leveled a punch that knocked Jack flat. His stance said he was prepared to do even more. “You’ll touch her over my dead body.”

  Jack pulled himself up, grabbed his jacket from the floor, and tugged it on. “If you think I’m leaving you in here—”

  “Oh, I’ll make sure you go all the way downstairs, Jackass. How about we look up Dr. Trambley and tell him what you just tried to pull under his roof?”

  Jack seethed, his eyes gleamed like those of a dragon his face turned a shade close to purple. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Watch me.”

  Jack didn’t move and Mark shifted so his weight was on his uninjured leg. He gestured with both and flexed his fingers before making fists and taking another fighting stance. “Ready for round two? Ten to one says it’s a total knockout.”

  With a muffled growl Jack turned and strode across the room. Mark followed, limping badly. He stopped in the doorway and turned. “You’re all right?”

  I nodded as I rushed forward. “You’ve hurt your leg again.”

  “I’ll live.” He put his hand on the side of the door and pulled it shut. “You lock this, okay?”

  I nodded and placed my hand on his. He smiled and winked.

  ***

  Mark

  I wanted to shove Scumbag Jack down the steps but there were too many witnesses. So I did the next best thing and interrupted old man Trambley’s conversation with some hospital big shot. “I need a minute, sir. It’s important. It’s about that loser who wants to marry your daughter.”

  “What?”

  Jacko popped up. “It’s nothing, Cornelius. I’ll handle this.”

  He cla
mped a hand on my shoulder but I spun away, my ankle protesting the entire way. “You’ve been handling all sorts of things haven’t you, Jacky? Let’s tell him exactly whose tit you were manhandling—”

  “Enough!” Trambley said.

  The hospital big shot gave Jack a long look and other hospital guys in earshot did the same. Even Mrs. Trambley gave him the evil eye.

  “My office. Now.”

  I stood as straight and tall as my gimpy ankle would allow me and I followed the good (and pissed) doctor while Jack Palmer trailed behind like the whipped dog he was.

  Trambley glared at us both. “What is this about?”

  “Jack here tried to rape Genie. In her own room, no less.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” I smirked at Palmer. “Go head and deny it. I caught you red-handed. Literally. Your hand down the front of Genie’s dress. And she didn’t look very happy about it. In fact, she was ready to cry.”

  “This is absurd! He had no right to even be above stairs!”

  “And you had a right to be in Genie’s room?”

  I saw Trambley lean to my side. I took a seat and propped my leg on a little stool that was nearby.

  Jack was breathing hard. He clenched and unclenched his fists. I could almost hear the squeal of the little wheels in his head as he tried to think of a way out of this.

  Dr. Trambley leaned back against his desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, Palmer?”

  “Eugenia was feeling overwhelmed. She was on the verge of vapors and I merely escorted her up to her room to lie down a while. Then this boor crashed in—”

  “Vapors, yeah,” I said. “But that doesn’t explain why her dress top was a mess and why your hand was down inside it.”

  Palmer breathed a sad little sigh and looked to the floor. “Cornelius. This is painting Eugenia in a most unfavorable light.”

  I jumped up and the bad ankle gave out on me. I hit the floor hard, whacked my head on the heavy chair leg. Once the stars stopped flashing when the pain exploded I dragged myself back up. “Don’t knock yourselves out coming to help me or anything,” I grumbled.