Capturing the Devil (Stalking Jack the Ripper #4)(34)

Ileana sighed at Daciana’s “Cresswell” theatrics and hugged me good night.

“We’ll see you in the morning. Try to sleep soundly. Your wedding will be unforgettable, I promise.”

I took a steadying breath. “You think so?”

She nodded. “You’re simply walking to Thomas in a beautiful gown, sharing vows, eating some cake, then beginning a new chapter of your lives. Together.

Everything will be wonderful, you’ll see.”

“Thank you.” I clutched her close.

Once they’d left, Liza tapped the image in the magazine again. “Well?”

I swallowed hard, hoping my expression didn’t betray my growing horror.

“Perhaps keeping the hair simple might be best. The dress is already so decorative—with all that beading and embroidery—and the diamond tiara is another bold statement…” I trailed off, noticing how both my aunt and cousin seemed to be mentally crossing themselves at my lack of vision. “You’re right.

Let’s set the hair and we’ll see how the waves look in the morning before we decide.”

With that crisis settled, my cousin ushered me onto the velvet bench in front of the vanity and got to work twisting and pinning small sections of my hair into place. I tried not to wince as she inadvertently yanked some strands out with her overzealous twists.

“You mustn’t squint so much,” Aunt Amelia scolded, leaning over and pinching color into my cheeks until I was certain each of my blood vessels had popped and I might, in fact, internally bleed to death before sunrise. “You’ll cause wrinkles and will look like an overcooked goose before you’re twenty. Do you wish to have a husband who no longer desires you so soon?”

I inhaled and allowed myself the mental count of three before responding.

“Because he’ll desire a Christmas goose instead?” I raised my brows. “They do say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Liza coughed a laugh away, abruptly returning to my trunk to rummage through my things. I took another deep breath and counted until I felt the next retort dissolve on my tongue. I highly doubted anyone was having such a discussion with Thomas the evening before our wedding. Men prided themselves on aging. They might lose their hair and expand their bellies and still be deemed a wondrous catch, marrying twenty years their junior. Yet heaven forbid a young lady grow into old age and be proud of the lines on her face; the very lines that told a story of a life well lived. The nerve of us to live happily and without apology. I scowled at my reflection.

“Sit up straight.” Aunt Amelia gently swatted my backside with the fan.

“Your posture is all wrong. If you slump tomorrow, your tiara will tumble right off that smart head of yours. You want to appear pleasing to your bridegroom, don’t you? I cannot—”

“What Mother is attempting to say is she loves you and is only fussing because she’s worried something will go wrong and you won’t have a marvelous day. Isn’t that right, Mother?” Without waiting for a response, Liza handed me a box with a big red ribbon. I held it up, curious. Judging by its weight, it felt like some sort of garment. “It’s a little something I saw in the fashion district. It’s for your wedding night, but you might want to try it on to make sure it suits you before then.” I went to untie the ribbon but she placed her hand on mine, stopping me. “Open it later.”

Pretending as if she didn’t hear that last instruction, Aunt Amelia went about tying my hair up in small sections and securing it with pins with swift efficiency, though I could have sworn I saw the slightest bit of wetness on her lashes before she blinked it away. I reached up as she placed the last pin and clutched her hand in mine.

“Thank you, Aunt,” I said, meaning it. “Tomorrow will be perfect.”





FIFTEEN

YOURS TO GIVE

AUDREY ROSE’S ROOMS

FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY

5 FEBRUARY 1889

Once Aunt Amelia and Liza retired to their chambers, I sat in front of the vanity, adjusting the hundreds of pins they’d stuck in my hair for the sake of fashion, wondering if the end result of soft, “natural” waves would be worth the discomfort of sleeping on them tonight. Without a doubt, it was not. Much of the wedding felt as if it were now a spectacle, like Mephistopheles and his crew had taken over its design and created another revel for the Moonlight Carnival.

While I couldn’t deny the extravagant hothouse flowers and the princess dress were quite lovely, I wished to walk down the aisle as myself. I simply wanted to be with Thomas, and that didn’t require pomp and circumstance. I’d be content saying my vows without an audience present, though I knew my family and loved ones had worked hard to make the day special for us, and I wanted to share in their celebration and good cheer. With limits.

I began taking the hairpins out, watching sections of my dark hair uncoil like ebony rope, falling against my collarbone. It was much better to enjoy my sleep and feel well rested for tomorrow rather than suffer and pretend to be cheerful in the morning.

“Appear pleasing to my bridegroom, indeed.” I shook my head. Aunt Amelia didn’t understand Mr. Thomas Cresswell at all. I snorted at the very thought of him requiring me to behave or look a certain way in order to be pleased.

Thomas wouldn’t mind if I showed up to the church in my laboratory apron,