Stalking Jack the Ripper (Stalking Jack the Ripper, #1)(62)

A single tear snaked down my cheek and I angrily swiped it away. I’d held it together for this long, I would not break in front of Nathaniel. I would not.

Instead of rushing to my side as I expected, Nathaniel stayed planted to his post near the door, craning his neck into the hall. It was hard to tell if he was looking to escape or convincing himself to stay.

“What did Father promise you for your betrayal?” His back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. I stood, moving closer. “Must have been extraordinary. Something you couldn’t turn down. A new suit? An expensive horse?”

He shook his head, hands twitching at his sides. Any second and he’d grab the comfort of his comb. Stress never looked good on him. I stalked closer, my tone antagonizing. I wanted him to feel my hurt.

“A large estate, then?”

The silver comb flashed in the flickering firelight as my brother ran it through his hair. I went to walk by when he whispered, “Wait.”

His tone gave me pause, my silk shoes straddling the threshold. He sounded no louder than a church mouse squeaking inside a grand cathedral.

Moving back into the room, I waited. I’d allow him the courtesy of saying his piece, then be on my way. I plopped onto the chair, exhausted from the day’s events, while Nathaniel checked the hallway before closing the door.

He paced, as all Wadsworth men were prone to do, agitation or nervousness shrouding him. It was hard to tell which emotion was getting the better of him. Nathaniel crossed the room to the buffet, removing a crystal decanter and matching glass. He poured himself a healthy amount of amber liquid, drinking it down in a few gulps.

That was very un-Nathaniel-like. I sat forward. “What is it?”

My brother shook his head, still facing the decanter, and refilled his cup. “I can’t begin figuring where to start.”

The utter loathing in his tone chilled me. I got the impression we were no longer talking about him telling Father I’d sneaked out of the house this morning. My anger dissipated. Was something else wrong with Father? I couldn’t take another emotional upheaval. There was too much to sort through as it stood.

“Most start around the beginning,” I said, hoping to keep the fear from my voice and force levity into it. “Tell me what’s been troubling you. Please. Let me help.”

Nathaniel stared at the crystal glass in his hand. It seemed easier for him to speak to it rather than meet my worried gaze.

“Then I’ll speak quickly, in hopes of causing you less pain.” He took a sip of liquid courage, then another. “Mother wasn’t the last person operated on by our loving uncle.”

I was grateful he paused, allowing me time to absorb the enormity of his words. Everything else in the room stopped, including my heart. This was a subject we were banned from discussing by both Uncle and Father.

“He… he’s been attempting to complete a successful transplant since he and Father were young men.” My brother pinched the bridge of his nose. “Father, while dealing with his own demons, reacts in such a way because he knows Uncle keeps secrets from you.”

“Secrets? I know all about Uncle’s former experiments,” I said, sitting straighter in my chair. “His attempt at saving Mother’s life is why I started studying under him in the first place.”

“Saving her, was he?” Nathaniel gave me a pitying look. “For the good of London, they should’ve kept him locked away. He’s never stopped his experiments, Audrey Rose. He’s only gotten better at hiding them.”

“That’s not true.” I shook my head. How my brother could think such a thing about Uncle was preposterous. “I’d know about any experiments.”

“I promise you, it is true. I hoped you’d outgrow your desire to apprentice with him, and thought it unnecessary to divulge such… delicate matters.” Nathaniel took my hands, squeezing gently until I met his eyes. “Just as I do not wish to burden you with too much now, Sister. If you need some time—”

“Oh, I’m more than ready to learn the truth. The entire truth, no matter how horrid it may be. Do enlighten me further, and make it quick.”

He nodded. “Very well, then. The entire truth is this: Your… friend, Thomas Cresswell, he…” Nathaniel sat back and took another sip from his drink. I wasn’t sure if the pause in the story was for my benefit or his. My stomach tied itself in knots as I waited for the next horror. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a bit peaked.”

“Please, tell me the rest.”

“All right, then,” he said, releasing a shaky breath. “Thomas’s father came to Uncle after Mother’s death. His wife experienced severe abdominal pain around that time. He’d heard rumors of Uncle’s research.” Nathaniel swallowed. “Thomas’s mother passed away shortly after ours of gallbladder issues. Uncle tried saving her life, too.”

“Wonderful. So you’re saying Uncle killed Thomas’s mother?”

Nathaniel reached for me, slowly shaking his head. “No, not exactly. Thomas has been obsessed with searching for a true cure ever since. It’s all he talks of when the Knights of Whitechapel meet. I can practically conduct the research myself. He’s gone into that much detail.”

“He hasn’t mentioned anything to me about it at all.”