Before he could doubt or argue it, I kissed him. A few moments later we were exploring our newest form of silent communication, and the rest of the world and worry faded away. We celebrated our love until the sun rose and we could no longer risk being wrapped in each other’s arms. In a few short hours we’d officially become husband and wife.
Then we could stay in bed for eternity.
Thomas reluctantly got up and pulled his trousers on, his hair mussed in a way that had me checking the clock to be sure we couldn’t linger for a little while longer. He caught the look in my eye and beamed. “You are an absolute fiend, Miss Wadsworth. It’s a good thing you’re making an honest man out of me soon. My reputation is in tatters. If you keep gazing at me that way, we’re never going to make it down the aisle.”
“You adore it,” I said, slipping my arms into my robe and sliding out of bed. “And I love you.” I pulled him to me and kissed him properly. “Now, go. I’ll see you in church soon.”
He stared at my robe, his gaze declaring all sorts of trouble as he leisurely took me in.
“I’m sure we can make time… all right! All right, I’m going.” Thomas paused, his fingers tapping the door as he openly admired me one last time. “Do you remember when I teased you about getting you to church?” I nodded, thinking back to our first case together. He smiled, that boyish, vulnerable smile. “After I said it, I’d never hoped for something more.”
My heart felt ready to burst at the seams. Perhaps we could steal a few more moments…
An hour later, Thomas finally crept from my room, whistling quietly as he left me to get some sleep. We’d both need to be up soon to prepare for our day. The next time I saw him would be at the end of an aisle, when we began a new chapter.
One where we wrote our own rules from now until forever.
I slid back between the covers, convinced I’d never be able to sleep, and fell into an immediate and deep slumber. A lovely dream began—a preview of our upcoming nuptials. I was dressed in my wedding gown, my veil trailing like a cloud behind me.
The young man waiting at the altar was dressed in black. From his midnight suit to his shadowy form. Even up to the tips of his twisted horns, gleaming like twin obsidian blades.
My blood prickled. That wasn’t…
I thrashed about, trying to wake myself. The man waiting for me had no face, no discernible features other than the horns on his head. In my dream I began trembling, the bouquet of roses I held pricking my hands. Blood dripped on my dress and onto the ground, mixing with the petals already strewn there. He didn’t speak or move; he simply waited. Silent. Foreboding. Radiating menace. I dug my heels into the smooth marble of the chapel. But it was no use. I was pulled to him as if he were a magnet tugging me closer against my will.
He was only a silhouette, but I recognized who he was. Our destinies seemed fated for this moment. As if we’d been set upon this course our whole lives and all of my choices leading up to this had been mere fiction for his amusement. I wanted to scream, but couldn’t.
It was the first night I dreamed of the devil, and I feared it wouldn’t be the last.
Newspaper article, circa. 1893
SEVENTEEN
STILL AT LARGE
AUDREY ROSE’S ROOMS
FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY
6 FEBRUARY 1889
I sat perfectly still, my tea untouched, as Liza and Daciana worked my hair into perfection. My wedding gown was covered with a large blanket to keep anything from spilling on it, though a few layers of the pale blush and white skirts managed to sneak out.
Made of silk and tulle, the long-sleeved dress was exquisite—something straight out of a fairy tale, with glittering gemstones sewn both into the bodice and at different intervals in my skirts. When I walked, it looked like stars were winking in and out of the sunlight, too excited to wait until nightfall to remain hidden. Tiny blush petals were also clustered around the edge of my modest neckline, with more tendrils reaching for the floor, marrying the two colors of tulle expertly. It was extravagant, but elegant. A shining beacon of wonder.
Unlike my darkening mood.
No matter how much I wished otherwise, the glow I’d felt when Thomas left this morning had been replaced by a shadow. Its talons scraped against my good mood. Between the nightmare and the news I’d just learned, I could not settle my racing thoughts.
Even on the morning of my wedding, Jack the Ripper haunted me. I’d requested the newspaper along with my breakfast tray to be served in my room. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered the latest sensation making front-page news. I regretted not tossing it in the fireplace immediately. I wanted one day free from death. I longed to think only of life as we celebrated our union. Now I could hardly think of anything else with the article glaring at me.
NOT CAUGHT YET.
Many Arrests, but the New York Ripper Is Still at Large.
“See?” Daciana fluffed my hair over one shoulder. “Partially down is a bit softer. It matches the feeling of the gown. So ethereal.” She tugged one of my braids, drawing my attention up. She raised her brows. “You appear as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
I tried offering a smile but worried it was closer to a grimace instead. Judging from the slight narrowing of Daciana’s eyes, she didn’t believe my poor acting. “Liza?” she asked, her tone especially sweet. “I forgot the strand of pearls in my room. Would you mind getting them? They’ll look exquisite tucked into her hair, don’t you think?”
“Oh!” Liza clapped her hands. Her dress was a flowing blush that matched the petals sewn into my many layers. “What a wonderful idea!”
She dashed out the door, intent on embellishing every inch of me until I sparkled more than all the diamonds and jewels woven into my ensemble. I sighed. And here I thought Daciana was on my—I leaned forward, noticing the pearls on the vanity, and flicked my gaze up. “You lied.”
“As did you.” She gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Now, tell me, what’s got you looking so dreadfully pale?”
“It’s nothing. It’s…” I scrambled for one of my worries. I didn’t want to open up a discussion about the Ripper murders; that would lead to too many other inquiries. And I didn’t want to share the details of my silly nightmare. Which left one inquiry I’d had for her anyway. “I received an odd letter or two that hadn’t been signed. I was just remembering it now.”
“A letter?” she asked, adding a few pearls to my braids. “Do you mean the note I sent along to you?” She laughed. “Apologies, dear sister. Ileana and I were in such a rush, I barely had time to scratch a note out to let you know we were coming.”
“But it mentioned having something Thomas needed.”
She picked my hand up, turning it about so the crimson diamond caught the light. “I wanted him to propose with Mother’s ring. He’s so sentimental, though he never lets it show. I knew how much it would mean to him, having her letters and blessing. I adore you and I love my brother immensely. I didn’t mean to cause any strife.”
I let my breath out in a whoosh. At least that was one less thing to worry over. My gaze slid to the newspaper before I tore it away again. Now if I could only stop allowing Jack the Ripper to step from my nightmares into reality, I’d be fine.
Liza huffed back into the room, her face flushed. “Are you certain the pearls were in there? I couldn’t find them.”
Daciana held the strand up, a sheepish look on her face. I studied the way she bit her lip and crinkled her eyes. She was quite convincing. “I must have brought them in and forgot I’d set them on the vanity already.”
Ileana slipped into my chamber, eyes glistening when she saw me fully dressed. “You look so beautiful!” She hugged me close. “I wanted to give you something. Well, it’s actually from Thomas,” she amended, grinning at my confusion. “Here. He had these made.”
I opened the box she held, pulling a stunning pair of robin’s-egg-blue shoes from tissue paper. Diamonds were sewn across them, shimmering like stars in a cloudless sky. I clasped my hand over my mouth, trying to not cry off the kohl Liza had so carefully put on.
“They’re incredible.”
“Something blue and new,” Daciana murmured. “Your ring is something old.”
“Oh!” Liza rushed about the room, nearly tripping over her skirts. “I almost forgot!” She held up a diamond necklace with a solitary stone that was the size of an eyeball plucked from someone’s head—a charming image for a wedding day. “This is from Mother. She said you may borrow it for the ceremony.”
Daciana lifted my hair and fastened it. “You’re all set.”
Liza, Daciana, and Ileana stepped back, clasping their hands together as they inspected me. Their eyes shone with unshed tears. My family. If they kept this up, we’d all be sobbing messes together. A knock came at the door and suddenly the newspaper article was the furthest worry from my mind. My heart raced as I pushed myself to my feet.
Daciana let my father in and he halted when he saw me. It was hard to tell the exact emotions playing across his features, but the hitch in his voice was unmistakable. “Are you ready, Audrey Rose?”
I drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I am.”
It was finally time to meet my husband at the altar. Neither the devil, nor a nightmare, nor any other nefarious thing would ruin our day.
St. Paul’s Chapel, New York City
EIGHTEEN
MY VOW TO YOU
ST. PAUL’S CHAPEL
BROADWAY, NEW YORK CITY
6 FEBRUARY 1889
Father clutched my arm, his eyes misting as he placed the veil over my face. “You’re a vision, my sweet child. Your mother would be overcome with pride. You look very much like her today.” He adjusted his diamond-pinned cravat and leaned in, whispering, “There’s a carriage waiting in the alley in case you’ve changed your mind. I’ll take care of the details.”
I laughed, then quickly blinked tears away. Once I was certain I wouldn’t ruin my kohl, I looked at my father and smiled. He’d take me from this chapel at once, no questions or judgment, should I choose a different fate. And I loved him for it. I tried not to focus on the sudden overwhelming sadness of closing one chapter and stepping into a new one. No matter how much I’d longed for freedom, it was a strange sort of thing to no longer be under my father’s roof. Another bout of emotion welled up, threatening to spill down my cheeks. I uselessly fanned my face, picturing how angry Aunt Amelia would be if I cried my makeup off.