I said in a rush, “You were right. Edward did try to kiss me, and I let him. I let him do more than that too, because he came back for me. He truly loves me.”
Montgomery’s eyes went wide. I’d gone too far, I realized. He’d hurt me, and so I had hurt him. But love wasn’t about swapping wounds, tearing each other apart. We weren’t animals. I bit my lip, wishing I could take those words back. Wishing they’d been a lie instead of the truth.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You were gone. I thought I’d never see you again.”
I reached toward him, but he jerked away. “You think I don’t truly love you?” he said, and then muttered something under his breath and stormed toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I demanded.
“To find Edward and put a bullet in his head.” He vanished through the door, letting it fall closed behind him. I heard the stairs groan and the front door slam as he disappeared somewhere out in the cold night.
I threw on my coat and slippers and opened the door to run after him but tripped over a gigantic mass asleep a few feet outside my bedroom door. I would have landed against the hard wood loud enough to wake the entire household if Balthazar’s sleeping bulk hadn’t broken my fall.
“Balthazar,” I whispered, scrambling to sit up as his hand found my arm. “What are you doing out here?”
But he didn’t take his hands off me. He pushed to his feet and lifted me up with him, then dusted off my coat, gently picked me up, and set me back down in my bedroom.
“Montgomery says to keep you here. To make sure you don’t leave.”
I glared at him, but he didn’t flinch. Balthazar was nothing if not loyal. If Montgomery told him to eat a pint of arsenic, he’d do it without question.
Balthazar smiled as he closed the door in my face. “Sweet dreams, miss.”
Sweet dreams indeed, I thought, as I raced to the window and fumbled to get the lock open. It would be waking nightmares, not dreams, if I didn’t get to Edward before Montgomery did.
TWENTY-FIVE
I HADN’T TAKEN THE time to change out of my shift, but by the time I ran all the way to Shoreditch, sweat was pooling beneath my heavy coat. I paused outside my lodging house. A lantern was on in the attic chamber, flickering calm and bright.
The Beast, with his animal eyes, wouldn’t need a lantern. Edward had to be up there.
Just the same, I was cautious going up the stairs. I held the knife in my hand, ready to strike if needed. I reached the landing and pressed my ear to the door. I could hear the old building settling and creaking, then a gentle clink of glass from within, and the scrape of chair legs on the floorboards as someone stood.
I adjusted my grip on the knife before quietly twisting the knob just enough to peer within. There was a shadow of movement on the wall, looking inhumanly large before I realized it was just the lantern casting too-long shadows, and that the figure was just a young man bent over a tin can of ham, scooping it into an old china dish for the little black dog who wagged his tail impatiently.
A floorboard creaked under my foot, and Edward looked up. He stood when he saw me, the spoon and tin can clattering to the floor. Sharkey nosed through them, oblivious to the tension between Edward and me.
“Juliet,” Edward said. He still wore his clothes from the masquerade, though they hung slightly looser on him without the Beast’s swollen muscles. The suit jacket was tossed on the bed, and he was only in shirt and vest, the gold chain of the pocket watch dangling from his pocket.
He shook his head, coming forward. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“This is my flat.”
“It’s too dangerous. I’m too dangerous.”
“You said the Beast can’t last more than two hours, and the party ended long ago.” I came in and closed the door behind me. He didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t protest. He stooped down to finish feeding Sharkey.
“That was true a week ago, but I’ve been so worried about you that he’s taking advantage of my distracted mind. He can last three, four hours now. He could have still had control over me.”
“Well, he didn’t,” I said, standing in the center of the room, hoping I sounded bolder than I felt. I stared at the tips of my slippers. “Do you remember what happened at the party tonight?”
Edward paused. “I have a few memories, but they’re foggy. I remember mistletoe and red ribbon.” He dropped his voice. “I remember your face.”
It’s my lips you want to feel, isn’t it?
I paced in front of the window, pulling at the itchy lace of my shift. “The Beast attacked Mrs. Radcliffe.”
He nodded. “I remember that, too, slightly. The smell of blood… well, it’s very evocative.”
“Why her?”
“The Beast is very protective of you,” he said. “Lucy mentioned to me once how her mother snubbed you after your family lost their fortune, and the Beast must have kept it in mind.” He paused. “It’s my fault he was even able to emerge. I thought I had him under control, until I saw you with Montgomery in the garden. I’d gone to the party to apologize for what happened here the other day. But seeing you with him made me jealous, and it gave the Beast the weakness he was looking for.”
His words stirred all manner of feelings within me. My chest felt tight with warring emotions, to see him here so handsome among the roses, and pity for Mrs. Radcliffe, and among it all, though I would certainly be damned for even thinking it, the faintest twinges of flattery that the Beast would go to such lengths for me.
I cleared my throat. “I came to tell you that Montgomery is hunting you tonight, but he doesn’t know about this place. I didn’t tell him.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
“I did it as much for him as for you. If the two of you met right now, I fear someone would end up dead, perhaps you both. In any case, Montgomery isn’t the worst of your worries. We overheard several members of the King’s Club discussing you tonight. Father was corresponding with Mr. Radcliffe, but it seems the entire organization is involved. They know about you. Captain Claggan told them you were in London.”
Edward looked away. “It was impossible to hide the Beast for that long at sea. He emerged on Claggan’s ship and killed a few sailors. Claggan knew about Moreau’s work—he must have deduced that I was a creation.”
“Well, they’re trying to catch you. I’m not certain what their plans are yet, but they mentioned specimens, and I found a brain, of all things, in Mr. Radcliffe’s study. They said they needed to extract something from you. You can’t let yourself be caught.”
As he stepped closer, the golden flecks in his eyes caught in the light and almost glowed. He was Edward, but the Beast was bleeding through even now.
“Why are you warning me?” he asked.
A thousand reasons sprang to mind. That Edward and I weren’t so different. That I was at least in part responsible for his existence and thus his crimes. Guilt that I’d made love to him and then turned to Montgomery.
“We can’t afford for them to catch you,” I said at last, because it was the one reason that stood out from the tangled knot of my emotions. “They want to use you to re-create Father’s work.”
My voice faded, and the only sounds were Sharkey eating the canned ham and the wood in the small stove cracking. The chair by the hearth still bore the shape of my body. This place was an extension of myself. A place where I could have my secrets, like the boy looking at me now with simmering desire in his eyes.
“Is that the only reason?” he asked. His words were heavy with an implied question: Was this about Father’s research—or the undeniable bond between us?
“Juliet, I can’t apologize enough.”
“Then don’t try,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t you anyway; it was the Beast.” I heard myself saying the words, and they sounded true enough, yet part of me still wondered where the line between the two of them truly lay. “Now that Montgomery is back, I shall try to convince him to help, though lord
knows it won’t be an easy argument. He assisted Father with all the serums, so among the three of us, we’ll discover the missing ingredient. But you must give me time. Right now, he’s ready to sever your head if he sees you.”
I turned to go but paused in the doorway and felt for a packet in my coat pocket. Sharkey barked, and Edward crouched down to rub his head. While his back was turned, I poured the packet of powdered valerian into his tea canister. I wished drugging him wasn’t my only option; and yet the Beast had taken over twice before Edward could chain him, and at least one person was dead because of it. Could I forgive myself if the Beast got free and hurt someone else?
I turned to go.
“Wait!” He picked up Sharkey and held him out to me. “Take him. He won’t leave my side, and I’m afraid one day soon I’ll transform before he can get away. The last thing I want is more innocent blood on my hands.” He paused. “I’ve grown quite fond of him.”
I LEFT SHARKEY IN the professor’s garden overnight with a bowl of beef stew. He was a street dog, so he was used to foraging, and I knew he could find his way back to Joyce in the market if he needed to. As soon as I’d crawled back into my own bed, my knuckles started to swell and stiffen, heralding the fit that had been threatening for days. My whole body seemed to lock up, wracked with chills, as a headache behind my left eye sent shooting pain throughout my head. It was worse than any fit I’d ever had. Amid hallucinations of three-toed footprints on my ceiling, I saw flashes of Montgomery injecting me with serums, and the professor’s worried eyes peering at me over his spectacles, and even Lucy’s face. But I couldn’t be certain which of those were real, and which were figments of my troubled sleep. In my grogginess, my mind kept going back to Father’s journal, the page that said fresh glycogen extracts were the most effective. But that meant animal vivisection, and the thought of strapping down Sharkey—or any living creature—made bitter bile crawl up my throat.
When I finally awoke, drenched in sweat and ignorant of what time it was or even the day of the week, Montgomery told me I’d been in and out of consciousness for three days. Over his shoulder I saw a fire burning in my bedroom’s fireplace, stacked in his signature way. Our argument from the night my illness struck had left a rift between us, but not one so deep it couldn’t be bridged in the face of desperate times. We loved each other, but he was right. Until Edward was no longer between us, we could never be together.
He commandeered the professor’s dining room and spent the morning testing various serums in an effort to cure my illness, much to the perplexity of Elizabeth and the professor, who ate at the kitchen table instead. By afternoon tea my tongue was raw from swallowing pills, both arms were riddled with needle holes, and I felt decidedly uncured.
I rested my head on the dining room table, his makeshift examination space. “I told you, I’ve already tried all of Father’s various formulas. They’re practically the only things that make any sense in his journal, but none of them work.”
The front door slammed, followed by a commotion in the hall. Montgomery and I hurried to the hallway, where a strange sight met us. Balthazar, cringing, held Lucy by one hand while she pummeled him with her handbag.
“Let go of me, you devil!” she cried, smashing the handbag against his ear.
“What on earth is going on?” I exclaimed.
“Found a girl snooping around the garden,” Balthazar said.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, I was hardly snooping around,” Lucy said. “I came to see if you had recovered yet, and this devil accosted me.”
“Let her go, Balthazar,” Montgomery said.
“You hear that?” Lucy snapped. “Unhand me!”
Balthazar’s mouth folded in a frown, but he released her. She dusted off her jacket and cast an angry stare at him over her shoulder.
“You still look like death, Juliet,” she observed. “But at least you’re no longer raving about cutting dogs open. Now you can tell me why the devil I heard you’re engaged. Elizabeth told Aunt Edith, and everyone is talking about it.” She glanced pointedly at Montgomery, who backed away slowly and returned to his medical notations at the dining room table. I pulled Lucy into the foyer, but she kept straining to look back at Montgomery.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” She peeked back around the doorway. “Oh my, Juliet, he’s quite handsome.”
“The engagement isn’t true. That’s Montgomery James, the assistant I told you about. He followed Edward back to London and made up the engagement as justification for being alone with me while we figure out what the King’s Club is planning.”
Her face wrinkled in confusion and I paused, realizing she had no idea the danger spread beyond her father. I pulled her into the dining room, where Montgomery looked up from his work.
“Lucy knows everything, except what we learned the other night.” I explained to her what we’d overheard her father and the other King’s Men saying on the balcony.
“But why do they need Edward?” she asked, sounding worried.
“We aren’t certain,” Montgomery said.
“They spoke of extracting something from him to complete the rest of the specimens,” I said, then paused, forgetting I was talking about slicing open the man she loved. “Whatever they’re planning, it seems to culminate on New Year’s Day.”
Lucy sat straight up at this. “New Year’s Day? And the King’s Club is involved?”
I nodded, filled with an unsettling premonition. “Why, do you know something?”
“Papa’s on the planning committee for the club’s charitable activities. This year they’re planning a paupers’ ball for the city’s poor. They’re distributing warm meals and secondhand clothes. The crowd will fill Parliament Square.” She paused. “It’s scheduled for New Year’s Day.”
I exchanged an alarmed glance with Montgomery, who stood and paced to the window, deep in thought.
“What does it mean?” Lucy asked. “Is it a coincidence?”
“We don’t know,” I said. “At least not yet.”
Lucy pulled over her handbag and drew out a thick set of keys, which she threw on the table. “Then let’s find out. I stole these from Papa. I thought they might come in handy.”
My eyes went big. “Lucy, if he finds out…”
“That’s why we have to be fast. One of those unlocks the smoking room at King’s College of Medical Research, where the King’s Club holds their meetings. It should be empty tonight, since Papa left on business first thing this morning. I’ll need to have the keys back in his desk by the time he comes home tomorrow, or he’ll be furious.”
“You want to investigate tonight?” I said.
“Juliet, this is my father. You have the luxury of knowing yours was insane. I can’t sleep until I find out what the devil mine is up to.”
I shook my head, reluctant to involve her. “How would we even get to the college? The professor watches me like a hawk now, especially after the attack at the masquerade.”
“There’s a lecture there this evening on women’s role in household management,” she said. “It’s being held upstairs in the same building. Tell the professor we’re attending. Montgomery can go as our driver.”
Her idea wasn’t a bad one, and I drummed my fingers, thinking. “I suppose I could feign a fainting spell halfway through the lecture. You could run and fetch Montgomery under the guise of taking me home…”
“ . . . but we’d really sneak into the King’s Club smoking room,” Lucy finished.
“Absolutely not,” Montgomery said, interrupting our scheming. He reached out and grabbed the keys. “It’s far too dangerous. I’ll go alone.”
“To a ladies’ lecture?” Lucy asked. “You might stand out, don’t you think? Anyway, you haven’t a clue what to look for once we’re there. I’m the only one who’s read the letters.”
They stared each other down until at last Montgomery cursed under his breath and threw the keys back on the table.
“Very well. We go together.”
He glanced at me. “Now I understand why you’re friends. I thought you were the most impossible woman in the world, but now I see there are two of you.”
TWENTY-SIX
PRETENDING TO FEEL FAINT during the women’s-role lecture wasn’t difficult, especially in light of my recent illness. We sat in the university’s mahogany-paneled lecture room amid a sea of straight-backed chairs filled with bored-looking ladies. The lecturer’s drone might have put me to sleep, if I wasn’t so jumpy from the knowledge of what we were planning to do. As he went on about tending to household tasks, it seemed perfectly natural to swoon and clutch the back of the chair in front of me and complain about the vapors. Lucy made a show of saying she’d fetch the driver, and soon returned with Montgomery. His handsome presence woke up a few nodding heads in the audience, but we were gone before the lecturer had even started in on the proper way to attend to a sick husband.
We raced down the marble staircase to the main floor. Lucy led us past the long line of framed photographs, including the one from 1875 where Father’s young face watched me. She stopped at a locked door and pulled out her jangling key ring, but I held her back.
A finger to my lips, I pressed my ear to the door and listened for the sounds of voices within. Just because Lucy’s father was out of town didn’t mean the rest of the King’s Club wasn’t meeting, but the room behind the door was silent, and I gave her a nod.
She inserted a key emblazoned with the King’s Club crest into the brass lock and opened the door cautiously. It was pitch-black inside save for the light from a few windows on the east wall. The scent of cigars was heavy in the room, though beneath it I detected a lingering trace of men’s cologne, and another more earthy scent that made me think of Sharkey when I buried my face in his fur. I swallowed. Why would a smoking room smell like animals?
We entered cautiously, and Montgomery found a switch on the wall and flipped on the electric lights. I shaded my eyes from the sudden brightness.
Her Dark Curiosity Page 18
