Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper, #1)(43)
“Such a shame. If they can accuse someone as brilliant as our uncle, surely they can accuse just about anyone. Perhaps”—she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper—“they’ll set their sights on members of Parliament next. It’d make for a rather sensational story, wouldn’t you agree?”
Up until that last point Aunt Amelia had been smiling and nodding, proud of her daughter’s appropriate response. When Liza flashed a grin my way, my aunt’s face turned a furious shade of red. She straightened, then dabbed at her mouth with a lace napkin we’d undoubtedly stitched.
“Now, girls”—she glanced between us—“let’s not allow our imaginations to get away from us. We shouldn’t gossip or speculate on such matters. It isn’t polite.”
“But it’s true, Mama,” Liza insisted, garnering curious gazes from around the table. “Some royals are under suspicion. It’s all everyone in London’s talking about.”
Aunt Amelia looked as if she’d swallowed an egg whole. After a moment, she threw her head back and laughed, a sound more forced than her thin smile. “See? This is precisely why speaking of such things is a waste of time and energy. No royal would truly be under suspicion. Now, who’d like more tea?”
Victoria, displeased by the turn in conversation, faced me a second time. “You look rather pretty this afternoon, Audrey Rose. To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure what we’d been invited to. Given all the rumors swirling around about your association with that strange assistant of your uncle’s. What’s his name? Mr. Cresswell?”
Another girl, whose name I thought was Hazel, nodded. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard about him from my brother. Says he’s got as much feeling as an automaton.” She smiled wickedly. “Though I’ve heard he’s quite good looking. And his family does have a title. He can’t be all bad.”
“Mr. William Bradley told me he’s got his own flat on Piccadilly Street,” Regina added, looking pleased to involve herself in the conversation. “Honestly, what kind of parents allow their son to live on his own before he’s come of age? I don’t care how rich they are, it isn’t proper.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised to discover he’s killed those… women… and hid their bodies away. Maybe Liza’s right. Maybe Dr. Wadsworth is innocent and it’s Mr. Cresswell who’s truly the madman. I bet he’s got a slew of unsavory women coming and going there. He might be heir to a good fortune, but who’d marry such an odd fellow? He’d probably murder his own wife.”
“Be serious,” I said before I could stop myself. “Because he’s interested in science hardly makes him a murderer or automaton. In fact, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with Thomas. I find him to be quite agreeable.”
“Mind your tongue, Audrey Rose!” Aunt Amelia fanned herself. “Addressing a boy by his Christian name is inappropriate. Especially when you’re not involved.”
If I thought my aunt was upset before, this was a whole new level of emotion. How quickly her tea had turned into discussions of the macabre and impolite.
I held my eye roll in. At least tea was more interesting than I imagined it’d be. The other girls quickly lost interest in Thomas Cresswell and the “tragic and disturbing” murders affecting the lower-class slums.
Conversation moved to more suitable afternoon tea subject matters. Like who was going to be invited to the duke’s coming-of-age masquerade in six months.
“You simply must come!” Victoria was saying to me, threading her arm through mine as if we were already the very best of friends and she hadn’t just called my uncle a murderer. “Everyone who’s important will be there. If you want the right people attending your party, you’ll need to make an effort to attend theirs. I hear he’s even hired a spiritualist to perform a séance.”
As the afternoon wore on, I watched them, noting the role they were all playing. I doubted any of them truly cared about what they were saying and felt immensely sorry for them. Their minds were crying out to be set free, but they refused to unbind them.
Hazel leaned across the table, catching my attention. “Your dress is absolutely divine! Would you be terribly bothered if I had one made like it?” When I didn’t respond straightaway she amended, “In different colors, naturally. It’s just the design is so gorgeous!”
“If William Bradley doesn’t fall to his knees, proposing at first glance,” Regina said, smearing a scone with curd and cream, “he’s a fool and you need to leave him at once.”
Hazel sighed dramatically. “But he’s a fool with a title. You really think he’d propose if I wore a similar gown?”
“How could he not?” I teased, holding back laughter at her serious expression. “Surely boys are interested in proposing only to girls in lacy gowns. Why care about beauty and brains when they can have beauty over brains? Foolish creatures they are.”
Hazel drew her brows together. “Why ever would a girl choose anything over beauty? A wife should abide by her husband in all matters. Let him do the thinking.” Both Regina and Hazel nodded at that dreadful sentiment before Hazel continued. “Anyway, you truly are the sweetest thing, Audrey Rose. Will you be attending the circus when it comes to town?”