“It’s time to go into the box,” Cleo said as she walked over to them. “This way, if you please. Enough gawking at my blind sister. Be off with you,” she said to the girls.
“My sister is so subtle,” Mia whispered to Rachel and her friend laughed in response.
“You do know you’ll have to be quiet during the show,” Cleo said. “Tell me you remember some things about polite Society, dear sister, I wouldn’t want you to have to go to charms school at such an advanced age. It would be most embarrassing for you.”
“Thank you for your concern, Cleo, but I can assure you it’s unwarranted. I shall be quiet. I wouldn’t want to wake you from your nap,” she added under her breath.
Mia allowed Rachel to lead her in the direction of their seats for the evening. She climbed a handful of stairs on their way into the box.
“Though I think she completely deserves it,” Rachel whispered close to Mia’s ear, “I would be careful of how you speak to your eldest sister. There is no kindness or love when she looks upon you.”
“That is nothing new. I don’t think she ever cared for me. She was always angry with me because of the time I spent with our father. But he and I, we had a special relationship.” God, at times she missed him so much it nearly knocked the wind from her. She blinked back tears as the longing swept over her.
Rachel squeezed her arm reassuringly. “It’s doubtful she cares for anyone but herself,” she added.
“What are you two whispering about?” Cleo asked.
“I was merely explaining to Mia that this box isn’t quite as close to the stage as His Grace’s,” Rachel said. She didn’t wait for Cleo to respond, but continued as if she’d been discussing the theatre all along. “The red velvet curtains continue in here and the upholstery on the chairs match. The ceiling is gilded and again there are more cherubs.”
“Do you actually see Alex’s box?” Mia asked quietly, then said louder for her sister’s benefit, “The seat is rather plush and comfortable.”
“Yes, I see Lord Carrington. He is still standing, though, but I am assuming it is his box as it is very near to the stage.”
Mia’s heart seemed to stop. “And is he with his intended?”
“I believe so,” Rachel said. “Yes, they are sitting now.”
“What does she look like?” Mia couldn’t help asking.
There was a pause before Rachel spoke again. “Are you certain you wish to know?”
“Of course. I already know she’s very pretty, else why would Alex be marrying her? But I would like to have a better image of her in my mind.” She’d thought of Juliet ever since he told her they were engaged. “Rachel, do not spare my feelings, be honest.”
“She’s truly lovely. Very fair in complexion with pale blond hair, perfectly coiffed and curled. I cannot determine the color of her eyes from this distance, but they look very pretty indeed.”
“What of her smile?” Mia asked.
“Pleasant,” then Rachel paused. “Well, in truth, it’s kind of a sad smile. But perhaps it’s just the turn of her lips. She has very delicate, feminine features.” Rachel was quiet for a few moments before she continued, “She appears sweet, but quiet. So far she has only spoken when spoken to and she keeps her hands neatly folded in her lap.”
Had Alex told her about his indiscretion, Mia couldn’t help but wonder? Certainly not. Men notoriously had affairs and mistresses outside of their marriage beds. Why would he tell her about an affair he had before they were married? “But she is pretty?” she found herself asking.
“Yes, quite.”
“That is good.”
“You are prettier,” Rachel said. “Far more striking.”
“You are biased, my friend. I am pleased to hear she’s lovely. I should want Alex to be with a lovely woman.” And she meant that. In many ways. Though the biggest part of her wished he would be with her. That he would walk away from that pretty woman with the sad smile and marry her instead. But Mia knew that would never happen. Alex had obligations to fill and she was not a part of them.
The opera began and Mia nearly forgot all she was feeling about Alex and his betrothed as the music swelled and swirled around her. Though she couldn’t see the costumes or the backdrops, the singers’ lovely and bold voices told the story. It had been many years since she’d learned Italian but she knew enough to follow the storyline. Unrequited love.
How annoyingly appropriate.
It was then that she realized she did truly love Alex. Wholeheartedly, she loved him. Adored him. And it was painful to love someone who did not love you in return.
At the same time she realized that, she also recognized she did not regret her time with Alex. Had she not met him she might never have known love at all. Even one-sided love was still love. These last few weeks she had experienced what it felt like to love someone in such a passionate way. He might not return the sentiment, but she had lived through it and she knew she was a better person for the experience.
There was a beautiful aria, and then the opera ended for the first act. Mia applauded with the rest of the audience.
Her sisters and their spouses excused themselves, but it was quite obvious that they didn’t intend to retrieve drinks for her and Rachel.
“They are a polite group, are they not?” Rachel asked with a quip. “Would you like to go and get some refreshments?”
“That sounds lovely,” Mia said as they ascended the stairs to exit the box. “Wasn’t that so beautiful, Rachel?”
“It was. And so very heartbreaking.”
Together they walked back to the lobby and Rachel placed Mia next to the wall so she could get her bearings. She held onto the handrail that rose up the stairs behind them. “I’m going to walk over to the refreshment table and retrieve some lemonade and I’ll return,” Rachel said. “Will you be alright here by yourself for a few moments, or do you wish to brave the crowds with me?”
“I shall wait here,” Mia said. She smiled at her friend. “No doubt more will stop by to gawk at the blind woman. I’m certain I’ll be adequately occupied.”
Mia stood next to the wall listening to everyone talk around her. There were discussions regarding the opera, and the scandal of the Viscount’s daughter lowering herself to that of an actress. Several men to her right chatted about politics and the wisdom of the latest proposed labor law. A group of girls opposite her cooed about some young men they had flirted with.
Mia felt alive in a way she hadn’t in years. To be among other people, and enjoy the things she’d always dreamt of being able to do. She was enjoying herself so much that she nearly forgot that somewhere in London there was a killer who wanted her dead. Unless, of course, it was actually Drew, then she was finally safe.
But then somewhere behind her she heard a sound that caught her attention.
Whistling.
And a tune she recognized. At first she marveled at the fact someone could have picked up one of the tunes from the opera that quickly, but then she realized that was not where she knew the tune. The whistler grew closer and the notes became more clear.
Chills scraped across her skin, up her neck and into her hairline.
Oh, God.
It was him.
She knew that tune. It was the one he had whistled the night he’d killed that girl in the alley. He was here. Right behind her. Mia gripped the wood handrail. The thick scent of that telltale tobacco swirled around her and a wave of nausea shot through her. She could not stand here and wait for him to get her. She had to get to Alex.
He’d been right all along. His brother was innocent. And Drew was in prison while the killer was here. At the opera.
She stepped forward into the crowd and pushed her way into the throng of people that filled the lobby. She didn’t care which direction she went as long as she got away from him. “Pardon me,” she said as she moved through the crowd.
A hand grabbed her arm, and she nearly cried out.
“Mia, what’s the matter?” Ra
chel asked.
“I need to see Alex right now,” she said.
Rachel didn’t ask questions, instead she immediately steered them in the direction of Alex’s box. Once they were away from the noisy lobby, she asked, “What happened?”
“He’s here,” Mia said.
“Who? Who is here?”
“The killer.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alex sat next to Juliet trying to think of something to say to her. They’d never had a particularly easy time communicating, but tonight seemed even worse. She seemed somewhat sad, though when he’d asked, she’d smiled cheerfully and said nothing was wrong.
He knew where Mia sat, where her brother-in-law’s box was. It would take nothing more than a glance to his left, he wouldn’t even appear as if he were looking for someone. But he refused to glance in that direction. The worst thing was, it wasn’t out of respect for Juliet, but rather he didn’t want all of London to see him staring at the woman he was supposedly protecting. If it was so easy for his drunk brother to see the desire Alex had for Mia, then one glance could start rumors that she might never recover from. So he forced himself to stay focused on his box and the woman seated next to him.
Juliet hadn’t wanted any refreshments, so they’d opted to stay in the box during the intermission. Perhaps she, too, was not looking forward to the throng of congratulatory smiles and handshakes. Perhaps she, too, was not looking forward to their marriage with anything more than practicality.
Alex was rethinking the refreshments and wondering if he shouldn’t go and get himself a drink. Juliet was to be his wife, and frankly he couldn’t tolerate the thought of having to spend the rest of his life with someone he couldn’t speak to. He wasn’t a particularly chatty fellow, but he did enjoy conversation.
“Are you enjoying the opera?” he asked, hoping this would instigate a discussion.
“Oh, yes, very much,” she said. Her brow furrowed ever so slightly. “Though I’m afraid I don’t understand much of the language. Languages were never my strong suit and my tutor never got to Italian.”
Alex went over the program and explained to her what each song meant. She could have easily read her program with the translations, but this would give them something to talk about. He had nearly finished when someone else entered their box. He turned to find Rachel standing there with a white-faced Mia in tow. He came to his feet.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Did her sisters do something?” He excused himself from Juliet’s side and went to stand closer to the other women.
“She said the killer was here,” Rachel whispered.
His heart hammered in his chest. “Where?” He didn’t think, he simply reached out his hand and put it on her arm. Through his gloves he could feel the chill in her skin.
Mia tilted her face up as if to look at him. “He was behind me while I was waiting for Rachel in the lobby. I heard him whistling at first, then I recognized the tune. I could smell the tobacco.” She winced. “I knew it was him, with every piece of myself, I knew it was him, Alex.”
Alex squeezed her arm to reassure her. “You’re safe now. It’s alright.” He fought the urge to gather her into his arms, pull her close to him.
At this point, Edward came and stood next to them. “Your betrothed is too polite to inquire about this little meeting, but I am not,” he said.
Alex briefly filled him in. “Did you see anything?” he then asked Rachel.
Rachel shook her head. “No, she came into the crowd and I found her there. By the time I looked back to where she’d been standing no one was there,” she said.
“I would like to go home, please,” Mia said.
“Of course, we’ll leave straightaway,” Alex said.
“No, that’s not necessary,” Mia said with a fervent shake of her head. “We need only the carriage. You don’t need to leave. You should stay and finish the opera, spend time with your betrothed.”
He couldn’t ignore the pinch to his gut her words inflicted. He knew she had no other choice, but for her to encourage his relationship with Juliet, it was too much. “I don’t want you traveling alone,” he argued.
“I’ll take them,” Edward said. “You stay and finish the opera with Juliet, and thereby avoid any scandals this evening. And I shall take Rachel and Mia to your townhome. I will personally see to their safety, Alex.” He put a hand on Alex’s arm and met his gaze. “Stay, my friend, all will be well.”
Alex glanced behind him at Juliet who was still looking down at her program as if reading every word. She would not ask questions if he chose to leave with another woman. She was taught better than that. She’d turn a blind eye and allow him his indiscretion. Still Edward was right, he should be the one to take them. There was no need for Alex to leave.
He nodded. “Stay there until I return,” he told his friend.
Edward eyed Rachel then looked back at Alex, a slight smile crooked his lips. “If I must.”
***
The Ripper had seen her.
Mia Danvers.
And he knew it was her. His little witness, blind though she may be. She looked exactly like the sculpture he’d stolen. Now he knew for certain it had been a self-portrait. He’d read in the newspaper article on her that she was a sculptress. She was simply full of secrets.
She had recognized him, too.
He’d seen the way her back had stiffened as he had approached. The way her knuckles had whitened as she’d gripped tightly to the handrail. But she’d escaped into the crowd of people before he could get close enough to speak to her.
She had not looked back behind her, but then what would have been the point? She wouldn’t have been able to see him. Despite her missing sense, she had known he was there; he’d felt certain of it. And she’d gone off to see Lord Carrington. The Ripper had stood across from the Duke’s box and watched the entire exchange. Judging by the way the man had stiffened and looked around and how the other man had shaken his head and gripped his arm, the Duke had wanted to leave with Mia. Walk away from his pretty betrothed. Interesting.
Well, if he wasn’t going to pay any attention to the poor girl, then the Ripper could see to it that she got plenty of attention.
***
Edward made certain he got Rachel and Mia home safely. He’d searched the house with the assistance of some of the staff to ensure everything was as it should be. They had safely ensconced Mia in her room as she’d assured them she wanted to be alone, to rest. Rachel turned to follow.
“Rachel, wait,” he said when she’d started for the stairs. “I would like to talk.”
She turned to face him, then looked back at the hallway leading to Mia’s room. “I need to be here should Mia need me,” she said.
“You heard her, she was going straight to bed. If she needs you, she’ll call,” he said.
Rachel paused a moment longer before agreeing. “I don’t see what more we have to discuss. You got what you wanted. You disgraced me as I did you years ago.” Tears swam in her eyes and she angrily swiped at them. “What more could you possibly want from me?”
Her voice was weary and he longed to pull her into his arms. But he wanted to do this right. “Can we talk somewhere other than the hall?” Edward asked. “Come, we can speak in the parlor, I swear I shall not lay a hand on you.” It was not a promise he intended to keep, he merely needed her to agree to come with him.
She paused as if unsure if she would agree to his request, then she descended the staircase. Once they’d reached the main floor, he placed his hand on the small of her back and ushered her toward the front parlor. The one where he’d first seen her in this house.
“Edward, what is there to talk about?” she asked once they were safely ensconced in the room.
He pulled her close and kissed her soundly. She allowed him, kissing him back. She felt good in his arms—right—as if she belonged there. He’d been an utter fool.
She shoved against his chest. “Please stop doing that,
” she said. Slowly, she backed away from him as if fighting the desire to stay in his arms.
“Why?” He stepped toward her.
She held a hand up to stop him from moving further. “Because I cannot think straight when you’re kissing me.” He closed their distance again, then ran a finger down her arm. “Or touching me.” She shook her arm free, then folded them both around her body.
“Why do you need to think? Kissing is not time for thinking, only time for feeling.” He tried to pull her back to him, but she took several steps away from him. Then when that wasn’t enough, she stepped around the settee.
“I’m quite serious, Edward.”
“You’ve placed furniture between us so I know that you are.” He made no move toward her this time. There would plenty of time for that later—he hoped. For now he needed to convince her with his words, since his plan to distract her with kisses failed. “That is what is so adorable about this scenario. You’re clearly angry with me and all I can think about is how fetching you look in your new gown. You’re beautiful, Rachel, do you know that?”
“You talk too much,” she said. She glared at him for additional effect and he had to fight the urge to laugh at her. She truly was adorable when she was angry, but he decided pointing that out now would not win him her favor. “You stole my virtue, is that not what you wanted? To seduce me as some manner of revenge?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I wanted,” he answered honestly. “It was the plan I decided upon when I first saw you sitting here in this room. I knew I could get you in my bed, as it were.”
Surprise etched her features, widening her eyes, her mouth fell open. She promptly recovered and schooled her expression. “Well, thank you for being honest,” she said tightly. “And you didn’t precisely get me in your bed.”
“No, but I do believe the floor should count as well,” he said. “But you didn’t let me finish. It is what I thought I wanted. Rachel, fourteen years ago you hurt me, more than I thought possible. I was crazy in love with you, wild about you,” he admitted. “More so than any man has a right to be about a woman.” He shook his head. “I assumed you felt the same way.” He might have sworn to never love another woman, but he’d never sworn he’d stop loving her.
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