A Right to Love: Romantic Spinoff From The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 2.5

by Liza O'Connor

  Upon discovering this man was not just the driver, but also her mother’s rescuer, Alice held out her hand and smiled. “I’m Alice Collins. Thank you for saving my mother.”

  When he took her hand in his and returned her smile, Alice’s entire body lit up inside. His dark eyes caressed every inch of her causing her to forget to breathe. Finally, she had met a true knight in shining armor.

  He kissed her hand as a gentleman would. “It has been my honor. And if your mother ever needs saving again, do not hesitate to call. I have brought out several men from Bedlam and not one was half as sensible or cooperative in their rescue.”

  Then to Alice’s shock, her mother hugged him.

  “You are a good man.” She then relaxed her grip and touched his hair, “Although you could use a haircut.”

  “Oh, no, Mother. He looks quite dashing with those dark locks.” Her knight in armor was perfect in all ways.

  Jacko intensified his smile upon Alice and the longer he studied her, the brighter his expression became.

  Her body warmed as she returned his smile. “I owe you a debt, as well.” She then turned to her mother. “I cannot believe Mr. Carson put you in an asylum.”

  “The day after the paper declared me the soul of the suffragettes.” She grasped Jacko’s arm again. “Thank God, you came. I am not sure how much longer I would have survived. I had bartered my last hidden jewel three days ago for food.”

  Dr. Hanson exited the house and hurried to Mrs. Carson, lifting her wrist, to take her pulse.

  “I am alive, Dr. Hanson,” her mother assured him.

  “You are weaker than you pretend. Do you have injuries?”

  “Thankfully, no. I would have died from infections if I had arrived with open wounds. The place was unspeakably filthy. To think any human is kept in such conditions! Someone should burn the place to the ground.”

  Dr. Hanson placed his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you out of the cold air and fed some warm soup.”

  “I’d prefer a thick steak, thank you.”

  Dr. Hanson chuckled. “First, let’s test your stomach with soup.”

  Upon hearing the doctor’s declaration she was weaker than she seemed, Alice blushed with shame for keeping her mother standing in the morning air. She secured her mother’s arm and helped escort her into the house.

  Jacko watched the group move toward the door, his promised basket of food forgotten. He didn’t care so much about the food, but the speed in which the beautiful Alice Collins had dismissed him made him sigh in disappointment. He turned and climbed upon the carriage. Why would a lady of means think twice about a damn gypsy?

  “Jacko, you cannot leave,” the young woman called out from the door.

  He appreciated she finally remembered him, but it didn’t change who they were. “I must. Duty calls elsewhere.” He slapped the horse to move on.

  The tired horse was slow to move, but the lady was not. She ran to the horse and stopped the mare by securing its bit. She looked up at him.

  “Is Victor truly in danger? I cannot imagine any situation that in five hours he could not talk himself free.”

  Jacko laughed at her observation. “You know him well.”

  “I do. When we were young, we used to be best of friends. Do you truly fear he is hurt?”

  Jacko secured the horse and climbed down from the carriage. She did not wait for him to approach her, but came to him directly. A little enough difference, but to Jacko it meant everything. Lady Anne had been the same. She’d never worried about propriety and what others might think.

  Alice touched his arm. “Tell me the truth. Do you believe Victor is in trouble?”

  Jacko laughed softly. “His only danger is having his head swell over the success of the evening. Removing a person from Bedlam is always a risky matter, and this went off as well as one could wish.”

  He thought of the wagons of police.

  “Almost as well. Victor may have over-fueled the riot, but he went in with the gentleman’s tour, and I believe he will have left safe and sound with no one knowing his involvement.”

  Her hand curved around his elbow. “Then let me have my groom tend this poor horse while I see to your needs.”

  Jacko’s loins stirred at her words. He knew she meant food and possibly access to the water closet, but another need came first to his mind. It had been a very long time since he had lain with a woman.

  She led him inside the grand house to the kitchen. While not bossy, she proved at ease in taking control of the situation. He imagined she would be most interesting in bed, as apt to lead as to follow.

  When they entered, a woman in an apron shrieked upon sight of Jacko.

  “May, this man just saved Mother.”

  Alice saw Jacko to his seat at the heavy wood table and went to the woman and whispered, “Take a deep breath and calm yourself. Jacko deserves our undying gratitude, not cries of hysteria.”

  The woman did as instructed. “Sorry miss.” She breathed deep and then looked at Jacko. “Sorry, sir.”

  Alice leaned in and kissed the woman on her cheek. “Thank you. Will you fix Jacko a very fine breakfast?”

  “I’m cooking your mother soup.”

  “Yes, but you have five additional burners. Never mind, I will do it. I daresay I’ve watched enough meals be prepared to manage the task.”

  Jacko didn’t think Alice’s threat a bluff. If May hadn’t decided she could do both at once, he suspected the lady would have tried her hand at cooking.

  As it was, she insisted on helping by cutting the vegetables into tiny pieces for her mother’s soup.

  “May I help as well?” Jacko whispered to her. “I’m very good with a knife.”

  Alice laughed and retrieved another knife from the rack. She returned to the table and moved closer to him so they could share the same cutting board.

  She handed him a carrot and then paused in her cutting until he was ready to begin.

  Jacko laughed. “You wish to race?”

  Her eyebrows rose with a challenge.

  “I did tell you I’m very fine with a knife…” he reminded her.

  “Stop bragging and start cutting.”

  Jacko focused on his carrot, cutting a thin slice off lengthwise and then hacking it into thin slivers before moving it to the side and slicing off the next piece.

  He glanced at his competitor’s efforts and discovered she had her carrot almost done, except had yet to dice the circles.

  Unable to determine who was winning, he returned his attention to his carrot and focused on speed and accuracy.

  When he finished, he looked up to discover Alice watching him with admiration. A neat pile of tiny carrot cubes lay on her part of the cutting board.

  He smiled. “You are also good with a knife. I bear no shame in my defeat.”

  “Nor should you. Watch.” She took the cutting board to May. “Which is better for Mother’s soup?”

  May pointed to Jacko’s pile. “The others will take too long to soften. I can put them in the eggs if you wish.”

  “Yes, please.” She returned to the table and handed Jacko half a green squash. “Again.”

  This time she tried to mimic his technique, which resulted in him having time to admire Alice. The lady was most comfortable with a knife.

  As they continued finely dicing vegetables for the soup, Jacko glanced at her. “Can you safely talk and dice?”

  Alice laughed. “Yes. I’ve been talking and cutting vegetables most of my life.”

  “An odd occupation for a young lady of wealth.”

  He noticed she paused in her cutting before replying. “My stepfather, the man who placed my mother in that hell-hole from which you saved her, is, to be blunt, a monster of the worst kind. The kitchen was the safest place in my house. And I’ve never cared to be idle, so Addie, our London cook, taught me how to cut. She said if ever there was a young girl needing to know the handling of a knife, it was me.”

  Jacko could
hear both anger and pride in her voice. Anger at the beast who threatened her in her very home, and pride at the skill she had acquired.

  His emotions ran in unison with hers. He had a great desire to return to London and slice Mr. Carson into finely diced meat.

  Alice’s hand rested on his cutting arm. “I sense your rage, but if it is for my sake, I beg you to release it. I do not want bloodshed in my name, no matter how much the man may deserve it. You have served me the best way possible by bringing my mother home. I pray you to do nothing else.”

  Jacko stared at her in shock. “So you carry the gift of reading minds, as well?”

  She smiled as her hand tightened affectionately on his arm. “I cannot read your mind, but I’m good at reading expressions and carnage.”

  He frowned in confusion at her ‘carnage’ comment. She nodded toward the yellow squash he had been cutting.

  He looked at the pile of yellow pulp and rolled his eyes. He had murdered the poor thing.

  Alice rose and took the massacred squash to May. The cook ‘tched’ and shook her head at the heap of pulp. “Did you cut or mash this thing? No more. The soup is almost ready.”

  “Do you want this in the soup?” Alice asked.

  “It’s not good for anything else. Yes, yes. Put it in the soup.”

  Dr. Hanson entered the kitchen. “How’s the broth coming along?”

  May sighed and shooed Alice away. “Almost done. As are the eggs.”

  Dr. Hanson shook his head. “She’s not ready for eggs.”

  Alice handed Jacko a wet hand towel and made a motion of wiping her cheek. She then focused on Dr. Hanson, while Jacko scrubbed his face with the towel.

  By the blackened towel, Jacko realized he had more than a little soot left from the night’s adventures.

  “The eggs are for Jacko. How is Mother?”

  “She’s malnourished, bug bitten, and infested with lice, but otherwise, she seems strong as ever. Her mind, thank God, did not break under the horrors she endured.”

  He then turned to Jacko. “Allow me to shake your hand, sir. What you did tonight was no easy task, and had you been caught, they would have either killed you or locked you in chains.”

  Jacko stood and shook the man’s hand. He noticed the distress in Alice’s face from the doctor’s words. “Chains more likely, which I can pick, so the risk was not so dire.”

  The doctor looked ready to argue, but then noticed Alice’s expression of concern. “Oh, yes. Right you are. Fellow like you could get out with no trouble at all. A friend of Victor Hamilton are you?”

  Jacko smiled. “Do you know him?”

  “No, but I look forward to meeting the fellow. He did quick work of finding his ‘package.’ Don’t you agree Alice?”

  Alice recovered from her distress and smiled. “Yes. Vic found Mother in two days.”

  May placed a plate on the kitchen table. “Would you like some breakfast, Dr. Hanson? I cooked plenty of eggs and vegetables.”

  “Is the soup ready?”

  “Ready and poured. I’m just letting it cool a bit while I get this breakfast served. Then I’ll take it up to Mrs. Carson. All the girls are asleep and I’ve only got two hands.”

  Alice wrapped her arm around the woman. “Take Mother her soup, and I’ll see the gentlemen are fed.”

  “No, miss. That’s not the way.”

  Alice kissed May on her cheek. “These are extraordinary times. Let me be extraordinary and set the table and serve the food.”

  May shook her head in dismay, but carried the bowl of soup upstairs.

  Alice performed her task with ease and served their breakfast at the kitchen table. As she sat down, she frowned and looked at Dr. Hanson. “You do not mind eating at the kitchen table, I hope. Thomas would never forgive me if I dare set the dining room with the fine china.”

  Both Jacko and Dr. Hanson laughed at her distinctions of impropriety.

  When breakfast ended, Jacko stood. “I really do have to leave.”

  “So soon?” Alice said.

  Dr. Hanson pulled his pocket watch out. “It is going on six in the morning, Alice.”

  “Well, wait one more moment and allow me to pack a basket for your journey.”

  Jacko smiled at her determined thoughtfulness. “I’ll go see to the horse, while you pack the basket.” He then shook hands with the doctor and went in search of the mare and carriage which no longer stood in front of the house.

  He expected the groomsman to chide him for leaving the poor animal and in truth, he had no excuse, except his mind had been occupied with Alice Collins.

  When he entered the barn, Jacko spied the carriage beside two others and Marybell in the third stall, her eyes closed in sleep. A man came forward and thumped him on his back. “Good job rescuing the misses’ mother. When you went in, I brought your horse in here, and unhitched her from the carriage so she could have a nice rest. If you like, I could hitch a fresh horse, and let her rest a bit longer. She’s a bit old for such hard work.”

  He walked over to the horse, Marybell, contentedly asleep in a stall. Davy would want her home, but Jacko had to do what he thought was right for the horse. “I’ll take a fresh horse back if you don’t mind. Either myself, or a fellow named Davy, will come to get her as soon as possible. Davy loves the mare and won’t sleep well until she’s home.”

  The groomsman chuckled. “I got one like that, myself. Tell you what. I’ll take her into London tomorrow. This Davy will have his horse back by noon.”

  Jacko shook his hand, relieved Marybell would get a good day and night’s rest before making the journey again.

  In a short time, they had the carriage hooked to a well-rested gelding. Jacko had just climbed on the carriage when he heard Marybell raising a fuss inside the barn. He climbed down and returned inside.

  The groomsman grimaced. “She woke up and saw the carriage gone.”

  Marybell had her head over the stall door biting the latch, trying her hardest to open the gate.

  Jacko went to her and did his best to calm her. She kept pushing him away with her nose so she could work on the latch.

  Jacko sighed. “Have you a rope bridle I can borrow?”

  The groomsman retrieved one and handed it over.

  Once rope-bridled with an eight foot lead, Jacko opened the stall door and led her out. For a tired old horse, Marybell proved remarkably strong as she pulled him from the barn and to the carriage. There she whinnied at the gelding several times, and the gelding whinnied in return. After what seemed to be a conversation between the horses, she walked in front of the gelding and waited.

  Alice came out with the basket and laughed at the sight. “Are you having a parade?”

  Jacko explained the situation.

  Alice handed him the basket. “Allow me to solve the problem.”

  She hurried into the barn and came out with a longer rope which when attached to Marybell’s bridle could reach the tie off on the front of the carriage. She smiled at Jacko. “Sometimes women like to lead.”

  Jacko shook his head. “You do realize I have no control over the horse?”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “Control is often an illusion. She wants to go home as much as you. She’ll lead you there. You just need to trust her.”

  Jacko was no longer certain if she was talking about the horse or his growing feelings for her.

  “It was very nice to meet you, Alice Collins.”

  She smiled. “And you, as well, Jacko…I’m sorry, but you’ve yet to give me your last name.”

  He’d been born Jacko Black, but when he returned from America, Xavier encouraged him to start his life over as part of his therapy to recover from Lady Anne. So he had taken a new name to go with his new wealth and promise to only murder, steal and abduct for good reasons. His new name would remind him of his greater purpose. “Goodnow. Jacko B. Goodnow.”

  Alice tilted her head and leaned closer to him. “Is that truly your name?”

  He n
odded. “I legally took the name a year ago to mark my new life.” He paused. “And to remind me to behave.” Right now, he needed the reminder because he dearly wished to devour Alice’s full plump lips.

  He had kissed Lady Anne the first night he met her.

  The memory pulled him back from the precipice. Matters between him and Alice were moving much too fast. She would later recall her behavior and resent him taking advantage on such an emotional night.

  He turned and climbed upon the carriage. “Thank you for your kindness. It was reward enough for the rescue of your mother. You are no longer in my debt.”

  She looked shocked by his words, even hurt, but he slapped both the reins and Marybell’s rope to move the horses onward before she could reply.

  ***

  He expected only disaster, allowing a rope-bridled horse to lead the carriage. But Marybell was an experienced carriage horse and she not only knew the way home, but she knew the rules of the road. She honestly didn’t require handling. He wondered if Davy realized the horse humored him into believing he drove the carriage.

  His thoughts returned to Alice. Why had he flirted? Why had he allowed his feeling to progress so quickly? He knew better. This is exactly what he had done with Lady Anne.

  In many ways, Alice Collins was like Anne Rothchild. While he doubted Alice had the nightmare past of Anne, she had unquestionably endured hardship and abuse from her stepfather. Yet, like Anne, she had risen from her fire brighter and stronger than ever.

  And while her house was every bit as fine as Anne’s, she seemed very comfortable in the kitchen and affectionate with the servants. Anne had not loosened her grip on propriety until she went to America.

  Their looks were not so similar. Anne always wore her hair up and away from her face. Alice’s thick hair flowed in soft waves down her shoulders, or at least it had in the wee hours of the morning.

  He smiled. He had no idea how she normally looked. He had met her under exceptional circumstances. He couldn’t wait to discover her looks on a typical day.

  “You are doing it again!” he scolded himself. “Rein your feelings in. Focus on her bad points, rather than her good.”

  He mentally searched, trying to recall anything remotely negative she had said or done.