Capturing the Devil Page 36

“Bring this with you.” Grandmama emerged from her parlor and nodded to the butler. He darted forward and handed Daciana a telegram. “It’s for your father.”

Thomas knitted his brows together, shock registering in his features when he noted the sender. He had much to learn about my grandmother. I was glad he’d already set our trunks down or he might have dropped them on his feet. “Is that from… the queen?”

“Of course it is.” Grandmama stamped her walking stick. “Her Imperial Majesty was quite fond of my husband. Especially after he’d made the introduction to my family.” She turned her rich brown eyes on me, as cunning as always. “You haven’t told him, have you?”

I felt Thomas’s attention on me, carefully watching each emotion I was trying to control, and contemplated hiding under my skirts. He was far too observant to miss anything. “I didn’t see any reason I ought to share your personal affairs, Grandmama.”

She harrumphed. “My father was granted a title of raja. He lent money to Englishmen of the East India Company. We had much influence over commerce.” She shook her head. “My granddaughter will inherit all my property once I’m gone, boy. She may not hold the title of marchioness, but her dowry could purchase your father’s precious title a thousand times over. I simply requested Her Majesty’s blessing on your engagement. To my granddaughter.”

“And?” I prompted, knowing there was more. There always was with Grandmama.

“I might have suggested a new wing dedicated to the queen would be nice at Oxford. Victoria can’t resist such things. Now, off with you”—she motioned for us to leave, eyes sparkling with triumph—“I need some peace in this house.”

Ignoring her wishes, I kissed each of her cheeks. “Thank you, Grandmama.”

Thomas and I were not free to marry yet, but she’d done all that she could to assist our endeavor. Now it was up to Thomas’s father and the queen. I didn’t have much faith in either of them, but it was certainly the best we could hope for, given the circumstances. Now we’d simply need to wait and see. But we’d wait and see from an undisclosed location, hopefully too far for the duke to find us.

“Be brave.” Grandmama cupped my cheek lovingly. “Now, go, save the world and that devilish prince of yours.”

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

—ROMEO AND JULIET, ACT 2, SCENE 6

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Map of Chicago, circa 1900

TWENTY-NINE

THE SECOND CITY

THE CENTRAL DEPOT

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

10 FEBRUARY 1889

I’d read all sorts of unpleasant things in the newspapers about Chicago—how it smelled of slaughtered hog, smoke, and excrement. Some said the streets ran red with blood and black with ash. And it wasn’t at all uncommon to come across a severed head or limb on the tracks—a daily danger to those who stood too near the rail cars. It was a city to be feared and avoided.

While some of those things were true, I found Chicago rather enchanting despite the tang of smoke in the air. There was an essence of grit mixed with hope that slipped into a person and made them believe they, too, might become whoever they wished to be. Anything was possible. Here was a city that had experienced destruction—it had burned to ash and had risen much like the mythological phoenix. It seemed to toss its arms wide, both challenging and welcoming. Come forth and enter if you dare. Come and live freely.

Welcome to Chicago.

I stood outside the train station, eyes wide, taking in buildings that reached toward the sky. They gleamed like blades in the setting sun. Chicago. I swore the city inhaled and exhaled in time to the trains chugging into and out of it. It was like a mechanical nervous system, the lines of tracks a constant movement of life. Wind whipped playfully at my hair despite it being an icy breeze that set my teeth chattering. Young women hurried along the streets, holding small leather cases, dressed smartly in long dark skirts. It hit me at once. They were alone. I blinked, completely and utterly taken with the notion of women traveling, without a chaperone, to work. I leaned on my cane, gaping. Surely this had to be a dream.

Thomas stepped beside me, taking in my expression and then the view. His mouth inched up on one side. “It’s hard to be certain, but you appear almost as excited about the city as I was with that chocolate cake with espresso frosting.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; that cake was not of this world.” I playfully nudged him with my elbow. “Look”—I spun slowly—“can you imagine? Living in a place where you needn’t require an escort to go anywhere?”

Thomas looked at me a bit sadly, and I realized he did know what that felt like. He wasn’t required to have someone watch his every move when he left his home.

A man ringing a bell scowled at people exiting the train station. “Sinners! This city is home to the devil. Wicked, wicked creatures running amok. Begone from whence you came! Flee back to the safety of your homes or you’ll be taken by the demons stalking these streets!” He turned in my direction, his eyes as wild as untamed fire. “You! Go home to your mother, girl. Save yourself!”

My excitement and smile evaporated. I stared at him, all warmth gone from my features and my tone. “My mother is dead, sir.”

“Come.” Thomas gently guided me to the far end of the sidewalk. We waited, in silence, taking in the street noise while Uncle arranged for our trunks and medical equipment to be brought to our temporary home. The man continued his tirade. I ground my teeth together.

“Why is that man shouting about sinners and demons?” I asked, watching him ring his bell at a young woman who hurried past him, her face purposely turned away. “He’s not referring to women, is he?”

“I imagine he is.” Thomas inspected him. “Not everyone believes Chicago’s such a magical, progressive place. I read an article that described it as a city where decency came to perish. It’s a city under siege—wickedness is replacing morals. At least according to some.” He nodded toward another young woman walking alone. “Men are keen on blaming women for the rise in sin. It’s been something plaguing humanity since the Bible first accused Eve of tempting Adam. As if he had no mind to taste that forbidden fruit before she offered it to him. Everyone seems to forget God told Adam the fruit was forbidden. He created Eve later.”

“Honestly?” I snorted. “I didn’t realize you were so well versed in religion.”

Thomas placed my hand in the crook of his arm, steering us toward my uncle, who’d just exited the station. “I enjoy causing discord when forced to attend parties. You ought to hear the arguments that break out from uttering something so supposedly blasphemous. The one question no one can answer is always, if Adam had been warned, why didn’t he pass the message along to his wife? Seems he was more to blame than she was. Yet Eve is always the villain, the wicked temptress who cursed us all.”

“Who are you?” I asked, only half jesting.

He stopped walking. “I am the man who will love you unto forever.” Before I could collapse from either swooning or chiding him for his flirtation, he quickly added, “I’m also a student of observation. And a brother. The truth, Miss Wadsworth, is I’ve watched my sister navigate the world of men. Doing so with more grace than I ever could, were I in her position. I’ve watched you do the same. Biting your tongue when I’d want nothing more than to bite the offender. I delight in pointing out areas where man has failed, even if it changes only one mind. Or if it changes none. At least I feel as though I’m fighting on the side of women, not against them. Everyone needs to take responsibility for their own failures.”

I clutched his arm a bit tighter. “You’re remarkable when you choose to be, Cresswell.”

He looked at me, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “I long to live in a world where equal treatment is not something in need of commending.”

Uncle stuffed his hands into his cloak, turning his face away from the increasing wind.

“Streetcars are available, but I’ve hired a carriage due to our trunks.” He lifted his attention to the man still hollering about Satan. His jaw tightened as the man pointed to our group, cursing my family for bringing me to this den of sin. Uncle sighed. “You’re not to go out unaccompanied under any circumstances, Audrey Rose. We’re no longer on familiar ground, and I’ll not worry about your whereabouts while we’re investigating this case. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Satan is coming for you! He’s coming for you all. Every last sinner among you will be burned alive!” The man charged a young woman, waving a cross in her face. When she didn’t flinch, he sank to his knees. “Angel of vengeance! Have you come to save us?”

I took an involuntary step closer to Thomas as the woman grabbed her skirts and ran out of the man’s way. He was clearly suffering from some affliction of the mind if he truly believed angels and demons walked amongst us.

“Here’s our transportation.” Uncle motioned to a carriage. “Let’s be on our—”

“Professor,” Thomas began, “would it be all right if we met you there in an hour? I’d love to see the Sanitary and Ship Canal.”

“I suspect you’re asking permission to take my niece. To the sanitary.” Uncle pinched the bridge of his nose when Thomas nodded eagerly. “One hour.”

Thomas helped Uncle into the carriage, probably promising his firstborn to get us both home safely within the hour. Once the horses rode off, Thomas held his arm out for me, his smile near contagious. I hesitated only a moment before accepting it.

“We really need to work on your wooing skills, Cresswell,” I said. “I’m afraid visiting a sanitary canal isn’t the most romantic way to court someone.”

He chuckled as we made our way down the street, steering us far away from the religious man’s bell ringing. I noticed how tense his muscles were beneath my hand. “It’s one of the most remarkable feats of engineering—they’ve reversed the flow of the river away from Lake Michigan.”