Her Dark Curiosity

by Megan Shepherd

  Hearing those same words Edward had once spoken, in his innocence, only made the pain sharper. I gritted my teeth. For the first time I noticed a small handful of mistletoe hung from a red ribbon over our heads.

  “It’s my lips you want to feel, isn’t it?” he breathed.

  I felt his breath closer, smelling of rum and meat, so unlike Edward.

  “My love,” he said, drawing the word out as though he could taste it, as though he yearned to swallow it whole.

  Now.

  I dug my elbow into the place beneath his rib where I’d stabbed him the night before. He howled in pain as I pulled away, restricted in my stiff clothes, frantically stumbling back into the ballroom. The fallen Christmas tree spanned the entire room, cutting me off from the doorway.

  “Juliet!”

  Montgomery stood on the stairs, searching the crowd for me. I raced toward him as he rushed down the stairs and climbed over the fallen fir tree in a few graceful movements.

  “The Beast found me,” I panted. “I wounded him, but it won’t slow him down for long.”

  “Long enough, I hope.” He grabbed my hands and helped to pull me over the Christmas tree, which smelled of rich sap from broken branches that pulled at my silk dress. I tore the skirts away, freeing myself, and once my feet were on the polished floor again, we raced toward the door. I caught a glimpse of Lucy’s green satin dress bent over her mother, with Inspector Newcastle standing close to protect her.

  “I can’t leave Lucy here,” I breathed.

  “She’ll be safe. He’s not after her.” Montgomery pulled at me, ready to drag me out despite my protests. Lucy turned at the last moment and saw me. Her frightened lips parted, and I thought of how I wished more than anything that she wasn’t wrapped up in this.

  But before I could call to her, Montgomery pulled me away toward the door. With his blond hair loose, he looked half wild, a savage amidst royalty. “Juliet, we must go now!”

  I had only a second to look at Lucy. “Stay close to John,” I yelled. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m sorry—”

  She was swallowed by the crowd. Montgomery’s hand tightened over mine as he pushed through the partygoers toward the grand entrance.

  “Did he hurt you?” Montgomery asked.

  “He tried to kiss me.”

  Montgomery threw me an alarmed look as we raced up the staircase among the masked people. We moved so fast, I had to raise my skirts practically to my knees.

  We reached the top of the stairs and hurried out with the rest of the finely dressed guests. The night was freezing. It was late enough that no carriages were out save the ones belonging to the attendees, too early for the bakers and early-morning vendors. Montgomery picked a direction and started down the street at a quick pace. I had to jog in my tight shoes to keep up with him.

  As we were dashing away from Lucy’s house, my slippers soaked and torn, I realized I still had pollen from the little white flower under my fingernails.

  I wiped the pollen off on my dress. I’d been a fool to keep the first flower. Now Lucy—and Elizabeth, and everyone at that party—was in danger. Would I find one of their names in the newspapers the next morning, listed among the Wolf of Whitechapel’s victims?

  I had promised Edward I would help him.

  But a promise to a murderer was a dangerous thing.

  TWENTY-THREE

  WE ONLY SLOWED WHEN we reached Piccadilly Circus, where the streets were filled with people no matter the hour. I tore my hand from Montgomery’s and doubled over against a lamppost.

  “I need to catch my breath,” I gasped.

  Montgomery paced along the curb, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. His eyes went to every shadow as though Edward might be there.

  “We have to go back for Lucy. She’s in danger,” I said.

  “The Beast wouldn’t kill in public. He’s a devil, but he’s no fool. All this is nothing more than a game to him.”

  I thought of the Beast dragging me beneath the mistletoe, wanting a stolen kiss. A game? Perhaps, but the deadliest game I’d ever known.

  “What exactly did he say to you?” Montgomery asked.

  “He saw you and me together in the garden. I think he was jealous.”

  “Damn it all.” Montgomery kept pacing the length of the curb, bristling whenever a carriage passed.

  “If we aren’t going back for Lucy, then I’ve got to go home. The professor and Elizabeth will wonder where I am,” I said. “And I want to be certain Elizabeth made it home safely.”

  Montgomery considered this for the space of a few breaths. His forehead creased even deeper. “Are you certain we can trust the professor? He was once a King’s Man.”

  It ruffled me to hear him suggest such a thing, just as Edward once had, though I knew he was only being careful. “You heard those men on the balcony—they’ve been after him for information and he’s refused them each time. Perhaps he suspects what they’re involved in. He might be able to help us.”

  “Have you told him anything about the island?”

  “Only that I found Father there, and he died. Nothing more. I’ve told Elizabeth even less.”

  “I’d rather keep it that way for now. The fewer people involved, the better. I’m thankful for what the professor’s done for you, but I’m not inclined to trust anyone right now. We don’t know how far this conspiracy reaches.”

  I shivered. I’d lost his suit jacket in the chaos, and my bare arms were riddled with goose flesh. My thumb suddenly jerked of its own accord, and a dull ache spread to my left hand—a bout of illness coming, as I’d feared. I rested my head in my stiffening hands, trying to breathe, as a wave of vertigo engulfed me. Montgomery must have seen me swaying, because he crouched down and took hold of my hands to steady me.

  “What is it? What is wrong?”

  “My illness,” I managed to whisper, though the sudden pain was so great, it even hurt to speak. “It comes to me in waves. It’s gotten worse these last months. Father’s serum is failing. I’ve been trying to create a new treatment, but I’ve had no success.”

  “You’re burning up,” Montgomery muttered, feeling my forehead. “We’ve got to get you out of this cold. Can you walk?”

  I tried to push myself up, but dizziness sent me back to the cobblestones. “I just need another moment.”

  “We don’t have another moment,” he said. “You need medical care, and we need to get off the streets.” He picked me up, and my protests were lost in the rustling of my red silk dress. “I’ve let a room at an inn in Camden Town, not far from here. I have medical supplies there.”

  “But the professor will worry.”

  “Blast and damn the professor,” Montgomery said. “He shall have to worry a few hours longer. If I take you to his house in this state, he’ll likely murder me.”

  By the time we reached Camden Town, the moon cast faint light over the street, where rats nosed through rubbish. The streets were even tighter here than in Whitechapel, where makeshift hovels of tin and loose brick crowded both sides of the road.

  He stopped outside a public house on the corner. One shattered window had been hastily plugged with newspaper, but that didn’t keep the smell of sour beer from coming out of it. There were chains above the door where a sign should have swung, but any sign had long since abandoned the place.

  I convinced him I was well enough to stand, though he kept one arm around my waist for support. “I thought you said it was an inn,” I muttered. “This looks more like the gutter.”

  “We left the island with only the shirts on our backs,” he said. “I’ve earned a few crowns here and there doing medical work, but it isn’t cheap tracking a murderer.” He tilted his head toward an upper-floor window, put two fingers to his lips, and whistled a high, shrill note.

  “We?” I said, trying to clear the fuzzy corners of my head. “Aren’t you here alone?”

  An upstairs window swung open and a hairy face shone in the moonlight, deformed and hideous,
but cracked with a wide smile. Despite how ill I felt, I couldn’t resist grinning back with a sudden giddy rush. Montgomery had brought Balthazar with him. It defied logic that he was even still alive, yet it was impossible not to delight at the sight of that ugly face that was so dear to me.

  “Balthazar!” I called.

  When I had met Balthazar for the first time, I’d been frightened by his sunken eyes and hunchback and enormous size, until I’d noticed the tray of tea and biscuits he held. He might have been one of Father’s creations, but he was no demon.

  “We’re coming up,” Montgomery called, and Balthazar’s head disappeared. Though it was good to see Balthazar, I couldn’t help but throw Montgomery a worried glance. Why had Montgomery brought him back to London? Wasn’t it dangerous? We had sworn not to let any of Father’s creatures off the island. The King’s Club was already after Edward; what would happen if they learned of Balthazar’s existence, too?

  But Montgomery held the door open for me, and I resolved to ask him later, when my head wasn’t spinning so fast. The ground floor was a run-down alehouse. Leering men of the sort to still be drinking long after midnight peered at us as Montgomery led me to the narrow back steps, where the frigid night wind blew straight through the chinks in the wall.

  The stairs protested under our weight as Montgomery helped me shuffle up them. We reached the top and he fumbled with his keys, but the creaky door flung open and Balthazar threw his arms around me.

  I stiffened at first, but quickly relaxed and hugged him back. Now I understood why they say smell can evoke the strongest memories. There were the smells of London on him—candle wax, greasy fried fish—but beneath that was his smell, like damp tweed and woodsmoke, and my gut pulled at the fierce recognition.

  I squeezed him harder than I expected. With Balthazar life was simple. It didn’t matter that he was a monster and I was a madman’s daughter. We were just two friends, long parted.

  I let him go and stepped back. “It’s good to see you, Balthazar.”

  “Yes, miss.” He shuffled his feet a little, grinning.

  “All right, inside with you,” Montgomery said. “She’s unwell, Balthazar. Fetch my medical bag.”

  I stepped cautiously inside, where it was even darker than the hallway, with only the light from a few candles burning. The room was small. A single filmy window looked out onto an alleyway. There was a fireplace, but the fire had gone out and cold air blew down. The bed was unmade. A trunk was open, not fully unpacked even after a week. Montgomery hadn’t been planning on staying long, I realized. Only long enough to hunt his quarry. If not for tonight, would he have come and gone without ever once seeing me?

  I’d chosen him, after all. He hadn’t chosen me in return.

  Balthazar hurried to dig through the trunks, while Montgomery led me to a wooden chair at a table covered with stacks of newspapers. Headlines about the Wolf of White­chapel’s murders had been circled in dark red ink, with Montgomery’s notes littering the margins. I had to shove my hands beneath the table to hide how they popped and shifted unnaturally.

  “I’m sorry for the state of this place,” Montgomery said, stacking the newspapers. “Without a woman’s touch… well, you know. I’ve been scouring the papers for information about the murders. It seems to be all anyone is talking about, which means speculation and false leads are rampant.”

  Balthazar lumbered over with a black medical bag.

  “Thank you, my friend,” Montgomery said. “Now if you’d be so good, take this coin downstairs to the innkeeper and tell her we mightn’t return for a few days.” He fished in his pocket until he found a coin and gave it to Balthazar, who shuffled out.

  The door shut, sealing us in the bedroom.

  My face flushed. I hadn’t been in a room alone with Montgomery since the island. I still felt a flutter of nervousness around him, as I had when I was a little girl infatuated with him, the quiet servant boy who helped Father in his laboratory and would sneak me biology books in secret.

  Only now everything was different. I was no longer the master’s daughter and he no longer a servant. Now I knew what it felt like to have his lips against mine. And now I was lying to him about having seen Edward. Having made love to Edward.

  I looked away as if he could read my thoughts. The muscles in my arm started spasming and I rubbed them deeply, trying to work out the ever-present tension there. Montgomery walked to the hearth, where he knelt to rebuild the fire. I listened to the comforting sounds of wood being stacked, a match struck, a sizzle of flame.

  Was I risking everything by keeping the truth from him? Wasn’t he keeping secrets from me, too?

  “I’m surprised to see Balthazar,” I said slowly. “It’s good to see him, of course, but I thought we agreed, on the island…” I didn’t need to finish. He dusted the soot off his hands and came to sit across the table from me. The pained look on his face said enough.

  “I know what we said,” he answered. “But he’s like family to me. It’s childish, I know, but I’ve no father, no mother, no one. When I was young, I used to watch the boys play in the street and wish I had a brother, too. I know what Balthazar is, but it doesn’t matter to me. He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.”

  An urge overcame me to take his hand, kiss each of his knuckles. I’d been such a lonely child too. Children who had no family were the ones who cherished the idea of family the most. “It’s just that you’ve come all this way to kill Edward, so that he won’t keep murdering, but also so that no one will be able to deconstruct Father’s work if they capture him. Balthazar was made with a cruder method, but if they catch him they could do the same.”

  “I know,” he said, studying the lines of soot on his hands. “I know I shouldn’t have brought him, shouldn’t have even let him live. But I never claimed to be perfect. I have weaknesses. My affection for him.” He looked up. “And for you.”

  The muscles twitched harder in my arms. I stood up, shaky and light-headed, and paced in part to ease the symptoms, in part to ease the pounding of my heart. All the while, Montgomery studied me with the keen eye of a surgeon.

  “Tell me your symptoms,” he said. “And how they’ve gotten worse.”

  As I explained the problem with the serum, he opened the medical bag, every bit the doctor. This was easier, more natural for both of us, to talk of such tangible things as bones and flesh, instead of matters of the heart.

  He removed a corked glass vial filled with a cloudy-colored liquid. I expected him to draw it into a syringe, but to my surprise he handed it to me and said, “Drink this.”

  I took the small glass vial, but hesitated. “What is it?”

  “A concoction I designed for Balthazar. It dulls the effects of his affliction between injections. It won’t cure you, but it’ll ease your symptoms long enough for us to get you to the professor’s, where I can treat you properly.”

  “You’re coming to the professor’s too?”

  “If you think I’m leaving you alone after what we heard tonight, you’re mad. The King’s Men run this city; if they’re targeting you, you need me. I knew the professor, and with luck he’ll recall me favorably as well. Now drink.”

  I uncorked the liquid and sniffed it tentatively. Astringent, with a hint of sulfur. “Valerian,” I said, somewhat surprised. It was the same drug I’d given Edward to ease his affliction.

  “That, and other ingredients,” Montgomery said.

  I swallowed it down and very nearly gagged. The taste was even worse than the smell.

  “I would have flavored it with peppermint,” he said. “But Balthazar never complains. Can you walk now without those tremors?”

  He pulled the chair back for me, as he used to when he was a servant, and I braced myself on the table and stood shakily. “I’ll manage.”

  The door opened behind me, and I heard Balthazar’s distinctive shuffle. Montgomery patted him on the shoulder and said, “Balthazar here wouldn’t mind carrying you all the
way to Highbury, but I doubt the professor would enjoy seeing his ward in a torn dress in the arms of a man like him.”

  I glanced at Balthazar. “I daresay not.”

  Montgomery gave me one final look. “You’re quite certain the professor can be trusted?”

  “With my life.”

  “Christ, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Balthazar, throw some clothes into a bag for us. I’ll have to devise some reason for why the professor should let Balthazar and me stay in his home to keep an eye on you.”

  Once he was quite certain I could walk, and Balthazar had packed a small bag for them, we descended the stairs. The moon was high, and I’d guess it was well past midnight. I hated to think of how frantic the professor and Elizabeth would be over my disappearance.

  “How was your voyage?” I asked Balthazar, partly as a distraction and partly because seeing him again made me realize how much I had missed him. “Did you see much of the world?”

  “Yes, miss. I rode a camel.”

  Montgomery leaned close and whispered playfully, “Nearly broke the poor thing’s back.”

  We chatted on the way, and as much as it warmed my heart to see Balthazar, his presence in London unsettled me. Father’s creatures were never meant to exist at all. On a forgotten island in the South Pacific they had been dangerous enough, but here, in the capital of the western world, where the most powerful organization in the world’s greatest city was after my father’s science…

  But Montgomery loved Balthazar, and I didn’t blame him for sparing his life and continuing to give him treatments. It wasn’t so different from how I had risked so much to help Edward. But what fate was there for an ungodly creation like Balthazar, kind though he was?

  At last we turned onto Dumbarton Street. The moon cast light over the wide street and sidewalks. My feet moved faster the nearer to the door—and safety—we grew. How strange it felt to have Montgomery real by my side, when for months he’d been nothing but a daydream.