“Here. Drink this.” Nathaniel pressed a hot cup of tea into my hands. I hadn’t seen him cross the room. I stared at the steam rising off the pale, almost golden liquid.

It was impossible, but I swear I could’ve almost heard the last few strained beats of the man’s heart as he bled out in front of me.

Thomas assured me even if we’d arrived moments after the attack, he’d likely have died almost instantly. There was an agonizing feeling deep inside of me, wondering if I’d held a cloth to his wound instead of knocking his head askance if it could’ve saved his life. What kind of girl was so accustomed to blood she paid it no mind? A terrible one.

“If there’s anything else we can do, Detective,” Nathaniel said, ushering the man from the drawing room. I’d forgotten he was even there.

I heard snippets of conversation as they made their way to the front door. An identification card was found in the man’s pocket, confirming my worst fears: someone got to Mr. Dunlop before I could question him. Guilt wrapped itself so tightly around me, I could scarcely breathe. How many men needed to die before I discovered the truth?

I sipped the fragrant tea, letting the warmth slide down my throat all the way into my gullet, heating me from the inside out.

I knew nothing regarding Mr. Dunlop and his personal life, so I hadn’t the slightest clue who would wish him dead. Was it someone he worked with?

The whole crew of the Mary See certainly appeared capable of murder, but looks had a troubling way of being deceiving. Mother used to read stories from books she’d brought from Grandmama’s. At first I’d turned my nose up at them, thinking nothing good could come from such battered covers. I’d been snobbish and wrong.

The words written between those crinkled pages were magical; like a fairy princess hiding amongst paupers. Mother taught me judging something from its outward appearance was silly, a lesson I tried remembering often.

Recalling the way I’d curl up in her lap brought on a new wave of sadness. How much death and destruction must one girl go through in a lifetime? As the door opened and closed, I blinked tears back, angry with myself for not being tougher.

Nathaniel sank into the high-backed chair across from me, leaning over to look me in the eyes. I half expected him to scold me for venturing out, being reckless as I was prone to be; instead, he smiled.

“You’re the bravest person I know, little Sister.”

I couldn’t stop myself from snorting. I was a sniffling, teary mess—hardly the mark of bravery. Thomas had held me the entire carriage ride home just so I wouldn’t break apart. I’d siphoned his strength and missed it terribly now. Nathaniel shook his head, easily reading my thoughts. Well, I hope not the one regarding Thomas with his arms around me.

“Half the men in Father’s circle wouldn’t have dared to question men who work the docks,” he said. “It takes an extraordinary amount of courage to do what you did.” He dropped his gaze. “My only regret with your outing today is the horror of seeing that man with his—I’m truly sorry you were the one to find him.”

I held a hand up to stall him. I didn’t want to think about finding poor Mr. Dunlop anymore. I lifted my chin, chasing the would-be tears away.

“Thank you.” I stood, setting my teacup down on the table, and hugged my arms to my chest. I needed to get out of this room and clear my head.

Reaching down to gather my skirts, I realized I was still dressed in my blood-smeared riding habit and breeches. Perhaps the news of my grisly discovery wasn’t the only thing that had made my aunt nearly faint.

First thing I needed to do was change into clean clothing. Even the strongest soldier in the queen’s army wouldn’t run around in battered trousers, I assured myself.

Nathaniel got up from his own seat. “Where are you going?”

I smiled. “To change. Then I’m calling on Thomas. There are things I need to discuss with him, and I’m afraid they cannot wait until morning.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth, ready to argue, but stopped himself. I’d just discovered a mutilated man in an alley on the docks. Calling on Mr. Thomas Cresswell late in the afternoon was the least of his worries.

He glanced at the clock, then back at me. “I’m leaving shortly myself. I probably won’t be home until after you’re already asleep. Please, for my sake, try to get home before it gets dark out. We’ve both had enough excitement for one evening. Were I to have another fright like it, I might end up dying on the spot.”

As we stepped into the hallway, I really looked at my brother.

Stress was still getting the better of him. Little lines were deepening around his eyes; exhaustion taking an even greater toll on him than it had a few nights ago.

I felt horrible adding to his already full plate. He was always busy studying, and now with Father gone he was tending to the house and me all while some murderer was running around, slaughtering women. I wasn’t making his job any easier by sneaking out at night and finding dead men in the afternoon.

I twisted Mother’s ring around my finger one way and then the next.

“How would you feel if I asked Thomas to come by here for a bit instead?” I knew it was an outrageous question since he wouldn’t be home to chaperone us, but figured it might ease his mind knowing I wouldn’t be leaving the premises after all. Plus, Aunt Amelia and Liza were in the house; it wasn’t as if I’d be all alone with him.

“Audrey Rose… I’m not certain about that.”

He stared at me for a painfully long few seconds, struggling with what was socially proper and what would make him inevitably feel better. He pulled his favorite comb out, running it through his hair, then placed it back in his jacket pocket before finally answering.

“Very well. I’ll telephone him on my way out. You’re not to close any doors.” He took a deep breath and glanced down the hall. “Please keep to the dining room and parlor. Be sure to stay a decent length apart. Last thing we need are rumors circulating. Father will be home in less than two weeks. He’ll slay us both if your reputation is tarnished. Especially since he’s…”

Nathaniel snapped his mouth shut and turned. He wasn’t getting away with keeping secrets that easily. I charged after him and grabbed his sleeve, tugging him back around.

“Especially since he’s what?” I demanded. “What aren’t you telling me, Nathaniel? Has he been back in London? Is he still unwell?”

My brother looked as if he’d rather be speaking with the detective inspector again, and an awful feeling bubbled up my throat. I shook his arm, my expression pleading. He sighed. It never took long for him to give in to his only sibling, and I felt only slightly terrible for exploiting that weakness.

“Your father has been receiving callers in both town and country,” Aunt Amelia said, emerging, it seemed, from out of thin air. She looked like a feminine version of my father and uncle; tall, fair, and beautiful.

One would never imagine she was in her early forties. Aunt Amelia embodied the very essence of what a woman should strive to be at all times. Everything from her neatly styled hair to her silk-adorned feet was immaculate and delicate.

Even the disapproving, pinched expression on her face was royal-looking. “Though after tonight’s debauchery, and the rumors surely following, I’m not sure he’ll have much success. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were trying to ruin all of your prospects.”

I stared from my aunt to my brother. “You said he hadn’t left Bath at all.”

“A young man’s been writing to Father for weeks now. From what I’ve gathered his family is very well connected politically.” Nathaniel straightened his suit. “The merging of our families would make sense. Father returned to London to meet with him, but it was only for a day.”

It was as if the ground had split open in a giant yawn that swallowed me whole. I couldn’t stop thinking about Father secretly meeting potential husbands while he was supposed to be recuperating.

“But I haven’t even come out in society yet!” I said. “I’ve got an entire year before worrying about balls, and parties. How am I supposed to deal with this on top of working for Uncle and the murders going on in Whitechapel? I cannot possibly entertain the notion of anyone courting me.”

Except for possibly one boy with mischief in his soul. Then a thought struck… Thomas’s family was connected politically, as far as I knew. And we had been interacting for weeks. Could his flirtations be real, then?

Aunt Amelia crossed herself. “It will be a miracle if they remain interested in that merger now. You’ve got some serious mending to attend to. I’m organizing a tea for tomorrow afternoon. It’ll do you a world of good, interacting with girls your age who are interested in decent things. There’ll be no more childish games or discussions of murder. Certainly no ‘working’ for your uncle and his unnatural science. If your father learns of this he’ll relapse. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

I stared at my brother for assistance, but he was preoccupied. “But—”

Nathaniel checked the clock in the hallway, then gave me a sympathetic look. “Try not to dwell on it now. I’m sure it’ll all work out fine. I really must be off. I was supposed to meet the head barrister half an hour ago.”

Without waiting for my response, my brother tipped his hat to Aunt Amelia and me, then walked briskly down the hallway and out the front door, leaving me alone to deal with the aftermath of the bomb he’d just dropped on me.

Why was Father taking a sudden interest in marrying me off, and who was the mystery man writing about me? If it wasn’t Thomas, then who was it? An uncomfortable feeling slithered like snakes through my gut. I didn’t like this turn of events one bit and would do everything in my power to stall any courting. I clenched my fists.

“Arranged marriages have gone out of fashion,” I stated, hoping to appeal to my aunt’s vanity. “People would surely gossip about it.”