Temptations of Anna Jacobs

by Robyn DeHart

  Though he hadn’t mentioned looking for a wife, if he were, Anna would certainly be interested in being said wife. He had said that had they met under different circumstances that he would court her like a proper gentleman. Perhaps he merely needed the right sort of encouragement.

  ***

  Mitchell Harrison had made a decision and today was the day to follow through on it. He knocked on the front door and was once again led into Lady Wickersham’s parlor. She was already seated, working with embroidery while sitting before the fire. She looked lovely in a gown of pale blue. Her hair was piled onto her head in an artful coiffure.

  “Mitchell, is everything all right? Is something wrong with Annabelle?” Her hand fluttered to her throat as she spoke.

  “Yes, all is well with Anna. I did not mean to alarm you. I came to see you.”

  “Many apologies for my lack of manners; please sit.” She motioned to the sitting area. They took their seats and he watched her fold her hands precisely in her lap. Such a lady. She was delightful.

  “I suspect you have heard about Anna’s recent examination.”

  “Yes, those dreadful books she’s been poring over. She spends much of her study time at her brother’s, as I cannot abide the books and those illustrations. It’s all too much for me.”

  “I imagine it would be, for such a genteel lady such as yourself,” he said.

  “Yes, thank you for acknowledging such a thing. Annabelle seems to be completely immune to and put off by my genteel nature.”

  “Anna is many things, but I’m not certain I would classify her as genteel. I believe she is the only one of my students who hasn’t retched during class.” Then he frowned. “My apologies; I should not mention such things to you. I merely meant that she is an extraordinary woman. I should think you’d be proud to know that she received the highest score on this examination. She even scored higher than seventy percent of her male counterparts.”

  Lucinda smiled. “Of course I am quite happy for her. I knew she would do well; she’s always been so focused. Even as a little girl, she would fuss while I would braid her hair. She hated being taken from her books so very much and couldn’t understand why it mattered to me that her hair be presentable.” She sighed. “I merely wanted so much more for her.”

  “You are a good mother,” he noted.

  “Yes, I like to believe I am.” Again her hand fluttered to her throat.

  “I wonder if perhaps I could take you to the theatre or a museum sometime.” There, he’d said it—the absolute worst thing she could do was tell him no. He’d kissed her once, but things had been a little awkward between them after that. He was hoping that the moment they’d shared hadn’t been simply a response to the brief argument they’d had and instead was the spark of something more to come.

  “I am not certain how to respond to that.”

  “I believe the appropriate response would be either ‘Yes, thank you, that would be delightful’ or ‘No, sir, I believe you are quite mad.’”

  She laughed. “Yes, I would be delighted.”

  “To which one? The theatre or museum?”

  “Either. Both.” She smiled, looked up at him from beneath her lashes. It seemed some things age couldn’t erase.

  “Both sounds perfect to me. I shall call on you again sometime and we can make our plans.”

  “Yes, I think that might be just the thing.”

  He stood, took her hand and bent over it.

  “Thank you, Mitchell, for coming personally to tell me about Annabelle’s academic achievement. I am proud of her. I am merely concerned for her future.”

  “As I said, you are a good mother.” And then he left her presence, feeling more hopeful than he had in a very long time.

  ***

  It had been two days since Anna had seen or heard from Drew. Since the night she’d accompanied him to the pub and he’d kissed her with more passion than she’d ever known, there had been no contact from him. She missed him; she couldn’t deny that. But she’d also been plagued by the investigation. The more she thought on the theory that a different weapon had been used in the most recent killing, the more certain she became. Even knowing that the Ripper was injured, the differences were too pronounced. But before Anna brought any of this information to Drew she wanted to make certain that her assumptions were well-founded. So she went to see Doctor Harrison.

  Anna tapped her knuckle against the wooden door to Doctor Harrison’s office.

  “Yes, come in,” he muttered.

  She opened the door and he set aside whatever he’d been eating and wiped his mouth on his napkin. “Annabelle, come in, dear, come in.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Harrison. I do apologize for intruding on your meal.”

  “Nonsense. I could stand to miss a few meals.” He patted his slightly rounded stomach. “Now what is it I can do for you?”

  “I’m afraid I need some guidance.”

  “Nothing to be afraid of for that,” he said with a chuckle.

  She wasn’t certain if she should tell him she’d been assisting in the investigation—unofficially of course—or not. It wouldn’t be that far-fetched, considering who her brother was, but most people also knew that Simon had been sent away. “I was hoping you could look through some notes and photographs and then give me your opinion.”

  He nodded. “You seem nervous, Annabelle. Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, well, this is a sensitive situation. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask for your confidence in this matter.”

  “Certainly. As a doctor, I find that most situations I deal with are sensitive in nature. It comes with the profession.”

  She withdrew the folders from the bag and placed them on his desk. He opened the first one, then gasped audibly when he reached the first photograph.

  “Dear heavens, is this that Ripper fellow from the newspapers?” he asked. He wiped his mouth, which had lost nearly all of its color.

  “I’m afraid so. Doctor Harrison, you know my brother has been the lead inspector on the investigation and, well, I’ve had the opportunity to study the notes and I have a theory, but I want to make certain I’m correct before I bring anything to the attention of the authorities.”

  “Very well.” For the next half hour he read through notes, examined pictures and flipped back and forth between files, making notes of his own. Finally he set them aside. “Interesting.”

  “What is?” she asked.

  “Well, I do believe the most recent victim was done by the hand of a different killer.”

  “Yes, that seems quite evident to me, too. The injuries are simply too different.”

  “You said that you were the one to stumble upon this?” When she nodded, he continued, “Obviously the police surgeon is not paying close enough attention to the details. Not only does it appear that the wounds were caused by a different hand, but the cuts themselves are different, indicating to me that a different blade was used.”

  Anna took in the relief that washed over her. She’d suspected those very things, but she didn’t quite trust herself on such matters.

  “But the most obvious piece of evidence is the fact that there were no organs removed,” he said.

  “Precisely.”

  It seemed promising enough that she’d have something new to bring to Drew.

  “Thank you, Doctor Harrison, for the second opinion.”

  “It doesn’t appear that you needed it, but I’m happy to provide it anytime. And I shall keep my mouth closed about the matter.” He was quiet for a moment, then added, “If you need solid evidence, though, you could perform an experiment of sorts.”

  “Precisely what type?”

  And then he explained in detail the rather gruesome fashion in which they could test the knife theory. It seemed to be the perfect plan. “Thank you.”

  “
You’re quite welcome,” he said with a smile. “By the by, you did excellently on your examination, Annabelle, though you do still need to pay closer attention to those sutures.”

  Anna grinned back at him. “I will absolutely do that.” Then she gathered her belongings and left. She would bring the information to Drew as soon as she was able.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Ripper could not abide the countryside any longer.

  His greatcoat beat at the back of his knees as the wind whipped around him. It was irritating having to return to the streets in such a fashion. He’d grown quite accustomed to hunting in the more affluent parts of town. He especially liked finding his victims at his friends’ balls and soirees. It had been such a thrill to sit in the club and hear talk of his work: the horror, the suspicion, the awe.

  Now he was back on the streets, in a darkened alleyway with the filth, the impoverished and the whores. He’d already had two try to coerce him, but they hadn’t been right. But as he leaned against the lamppost, he could see her now. She rounded the corner and came down the street, heading right for him.

  She was perfect; the right one for tonight’s kill. Petite, but with just enough plumpness to make her appealing. She had a ruddy complexion to her cheeks. She liked her drink. They all did. The lot of them. Filthy whores.

  He crooked his finger to call to her and she sidled up to him, her generous hips swaying as she moved. As she got closer he could see she was far younger than he’d first thought—probably only twenty.

  “Och, a fine gentleman you be, come this way.” She took his hand and led him deeper into the alleyway. When they finally reached a secluded area, she smiled up at him. The moonlight was sparse tonight, but he could see enough to realize she was missing several of her teeth. “How you be wanting it tonight?” She pulled her skirts up around her waist.

  He could stand it no more. These whores were not as much of a challenge. Those tarts in Mayfair had fought back, begged for their lives. These were too easy.

  He withdrew the knife from the inside of his greatcoat and had it up against her throat before she could scream.

  “I’m going to cut you,” he told her.

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head, but he’d sliced into her throat before her pleas could begin. He didn’t want to hear her voice again. Her head lobbed back and blood spurted across his face and then poured down her neck. He cut her cheeks, her eyelids, then let her body drop the ground. Swiftly he cut through her clothes and then into her abdomen.

  He knew what he sought and as he reached his hand into her warm, wet body, he found it with ease. Several precise cuts later and the organ sat in his hand.

  Oh, it was good to be back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anna had already secured permission from Doctor Harrison to use the laboratory that afternoon after class. She’d also had delivered a pig carcass for the experiment. But she hadn’t yet heard back from Drew. She’d sent him a message, had it delivered to Scotland Yard, as she knew he’d be working that day, and now was set to wait and hope he’d arrive. Of course, if he didn’t, it would still work out; she could go and retrieve Doctor Harrison from his office and have him assist her.

  She couldn’t lie, the rejection hurt. Drew had pushed her aside. But he’d also sought her help in the investigation. She could be poised about this matter. He might not want her personally, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need her professionally.

  She checked again the knives she’d collected for the experiment, straightening them on the table. Then a knock, knock on the door and Drew appeared.

  Her breath caught at the sight of him. An image of him the night in the carriage flashed in her mind. When he’d pressed himself so deliciously close to her, taken her body to such heights.

  She licked her lips and nodded. “Hello.”

  He inclined his head, took a step closer into the room. “You said you had an experiment you wanted assistance with.”

  “Indeed. I thought we could test my hypothesis about the last victim being killed with a different type of blade.”

  His brows rose slowly. “Sounds very interesting.” He nodded to the table behind her. “I suppose that explains the pig.”

  “Indeed. Well, I am hoping it will prove more than merely interesting and be instrumental in the investigation.” She donned a long apron and offered him one as well. “It would be a better experiment if we had actual bodies, but without a formal request from Scotland Yard, the medical school will not allow such a thing.” She walked around to the other side of the table. “So this will do. I gathered all of these weapons and we can take turns”—she paused and looked up at him—“stabbing the body, and then measure our findings.”

  “Anna, no, that’s unnecessary,” he said.

  Her stomach agreed with him. It had been roiling and churning all morning at the thought. It was an experiment, she kept reminding herself, but there was something decidedly different about cutting into a body for educational purposes and trying to reenact a brutal attack, porcine or not. “It will provide us with conclusive information.”

  “That might be, but medical student or not, I can’t allow you to do something so savage.”

  “I thought you understood that I was more than the situation of my birth,” she said. “Lady or not, aristocratic or not, this is a medical experiment, so if I don’t perform it, who will?”

  “I can do it,” he said.

  But she knew she could never ask him to do such a thing. He’d been so horrified by the way he’d put his hands on that man at the pub the other night that he’d barely been able to look at her. And all he’d done there was rescue her, remove a man and his unwanted advances from her person. Imagine how he’d feel if she asked him to step into the shoes of a killer. No, she could do this, she was used to wielding a knife in such a manner.

  “I will do it, Drew, I merely wanted you to observe and perhaps take some notes,” she said.

  “Are you certain?”

  “Of course. I am to be a doctor; I am hardly squeamish.”

  Drew stepped over to the table with the knives and eyed them, picking up one and then the other, turning them over in his hand. “What are all of these?”

  “Carving knife, butcher, upholstery, hunting and typical kitchen knives.”

  Then, without warning, he picked up one and jammed it into the pig’s abdomen.

  Anna sucked in her breath. “I thought we agreed that I would perform the test.”

  “No, you agreed to that. If this must be done, then we shall do it together. Anna, mimicking the acts of a killer is nothing to take lightly. I will not allow you to do it alone,” he said. When she nodded, he pointed at the injury. “Get to work,” he said with a gentle squeeze of her shoulder.

  And just like that the tensions between them melted away and once again they were partners, working on an investigation side by side. Anna measured the wound, made notes about the knife. “I can already tell that this particular knife leaves a far wider wound than the ones on the most recent victim.”

  “But we should account for differing strengths of the killer. You do it.” He handed her the knife. “Don’t be tentative.”

  She took a deep breath and then sliced the knife into the body. It was far different than making incisions; this was violent. She shook off the feeling of revulsion and stepped back to examine the wound. Again she measured and made notes. “It’s definitely different than yours, but only in that it doesn’t go as deep. The wound entry is the same. This is most definitely not the type of knife the killer used. On any of the victims.”

  “Next,” Drew said. He retrieved another weapon and they went through the same process again. And once again the knife they’d used made a different wound than the ones on the victims.

  Perhaps this hadn’t been a worthy experiment. She voiced her concern.

  “No,
this is worthwhile simply because it proves that there could have been different weapons used. It doesn’t prove it’s a different killer, but it’s a start.”

  She eyed him a moment. “Is that what you think? That this most recent victim is a different killer?” She knew she believed that, but Drew had never come right out and expressed such a thought.

  He shrugged. “That’s what my instinct tells me, but I haven’t been doing this very long, so I’m not so certain I’m to be trusted. But it’s definitely my suspicion.”

  “I think we should send our findings to Simon and see what he has to say about matters,” she suggested.

  “I think perhaps you’re right. Here, I can help you clean up.” He picked up all the weapons and brought them over to the large sink and set them inside. Then he carefully washed them with the soap sitting on the ledge.

  Try as she might Anna could not ignore the play of his muscles against his back as he moved at the sink. His shoulders were so broad, and she had the inexplicable urge to go over and run her hands up his back, wrap her arms around his body and press her face to his back. He would be warm and impossibly strong and she knew it would feel so very right. Instead she carefully covered the bodies and picked up her notes.

  ***

  Anna and Drew had done the experiment with the weapons and sent their findings to Simon via telegraph. He’d sent back a message immediately asking them to send more detailed notes by post. And now Anna was waiting on everything it seemed. Waiting to hear from Simon. And waiting to see Drew again. She hadn’t seen him again since that day in the laboratory. She had no idea why he’d been avoiding her other than the encounter they’d shared in the carriage. Even though she’d thought that their relationship had resumed during their experiment. Evidently that had merely been a temporary truce.