Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(30)

Feathers were carved with a careful hand, the raised wings reminding me of a dove in flight. Snow slipped down the angel’s face, resembling tears. There was a sadness in its face that made me wonder if it was truly an angel. Perhaps it was one of the fallen.

The clomping of boots alerted me to his presence before I turned. I quickly pulled myself together, hoping the remaining tremors would be mistaken for a reaction to the cold. I shifted around to face Thomas, my expression neutral. I knew I wouldn’t fool him with a smile, but my nerves could easily be the result

of his party. He knew I was more comfortable with a scalpel in hand than I was reciting a toast, and he adored me all the more for it. I was surprised he wasn’t alone.

A cat as black as night trotted along behind him. I squinted at it, noticing there was a patch of white under its neck. “Cresswell, there’s a cat following you.” I searched the courtyard for a broom or some other object to shoo the beast away with. I tapped my cane on the ground as a last resort, eliciting an annoyed flick of the cat’s ears. It looked at Thomas, and either my delusions had begun in earnest, or the stray was about to strike. “It’s going to pounce on you.”

“Actually, he’s waiting to be invited. Observe.” Thomas patted his shoulder once. Without hesitation the cat leapt from the ground, perching on his shoulder, and stared smugly at me. “Wadsworth, meet Sir Isaac Mewton. Sir Isaac Mewton, this is that special human I told you about. You’ll be nice to her or there won’t be any more belly rubs in your future.”

I opened my mouth and shut it. Words abandoned me. At least I was no longer on the brink of falling into the Jack the Ripper abyss… Thomas had once again managed to yank me from my doom. Except this time, he wasn’t aware of his assistance.

“Sir Isaac Mewton?” I closed my eyes. “Do you honestly expect me to address that creature that way? Where did you even find it?”

“Don’t be absurd. You don’t call me His Royal Eminence Lord Thomas James Dorin Cresswell, do you? Sir Isaac will be quite adequate. He found me a few streets over. His command over gravity rivals his namesake’s.”

I might start calling Thomas His Royal Pain in My Arse. “We cannot keep it.”

“Sir Isaac,” he corrected.

I sighed. “We cannot keep Sir Isaac. How can we care for him on our many travels?”

Thomas frowned. I thought he’d see the logic in my statement; apparently, I was wrong. “Do you expect me to turn my back on this face? Look at the cunning in his eyes.” He petted the cat, which still perched on his shoulder, its golden eyes watching me warily. “Are you denying me my one true birthday wish?”

“I thought the gift of my presence was your one true wish,” I said blandly.

He made a face. “Imagine, coming home from a long day’s work, tossing your blood-splattered apron off, grabbing a warm mug of tea. Then Sir Isaac hops into your lap, circles, once, twice, possibly thrice, before curling into a ball

of warmth and fluff.” He scratched the cat’s head, drawing a purr so loud it might alarm the neighbors. “Tell me having a cat’s affection and a good book doesn’t sound like an ideal evening.”





“Is that really all you’d like me to picture? If that’s an ideal evening, then how, exactly, do you fit in?”

“You’d be scantily clad in my lap; Sir Isaac would be in yours.” Thomas held fast to the cat as he ducked the snowball I tossed at him. “What? It’s my fantasy of our future!”

I wiped the snow from my gloves, giving in. “Fine. Sir Isaac stays. I suppose he’s a Cresswell-Wadsworth now.”

Levity vanished from Thomas’s expression. “Are you thinking of taking my name—in part? I didn’t think—is that what you want?”

I picked at imaginary fuzz on my gloves, stalling. “No, I don’t believe I will.”

I flicked my attention to his, noting the slight flash of disappointment before he wiped it away. I smiled. “At least not in part. ”

He looked up quickly; hope slipped in between the cracks of his emotional armor. His reaction made me all the more certain of my decision. “Does that mean…?”

I bit my lower lip, nodding. “I’ve thought about it a great deal. If the choice was never offered, I might feel differently. But, I—I’m not sure how to describe it. I want to share a name with you. Thomas doesn’t quite suit me, although you’d make a lovely Audrey Rose.”

His laugh was full and rich. The cat twitched its tail and hopped to the ground, annoyed it was no longer the center of Thomas’s world. Once my love collected himself, he stepped near, holding my hands in his. “I would take your name, if you wanted to keep it.”

He meant it, too. I pulled him to me and kissed him lightly. “Which is precisely the reason I’m happy to become a Cresswell. Now, let’s go. We’ve got a birthday party to attend and a rather fun announcement to make.” I looked at the cat. “You, too, Sir Isaac. Let’s be on our way. I have to put my gown on and I’m sure I can rustle up a rather dapper ribbon for you.”

Lord help me, but the cat seemed to perk up at the thought. It was a Cresswell through and through.





THIRTEEN

CHAOS UNLEASHED

GRANDMAMA’S DINING ROOM