Temptations of Anna Jacobs (16 page)

Drew had picked up Anna a few hours earlier and they were on their way to Warwickshire to see Doctor Carroway. The rain had started last night and already the roads were caked with mud. Thankfully they hadn’t needed to bring any luggage trunks with them to weigh down the carriage so they were able to keep moving.

“It shouldn’t be much longer now,” Drew said. He peered out the tiny window that had mostly fogged from the humidity in the air.

“It’s awful out there,” Anna said.

The carriage turned down another road, and the unexpected movement jostled Anna out of her seat. Drew helped to right her back on her bench again and she gave him an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

And then the carriage stopped. “I suppose we are here,” Drew said. He tried to look out the window, but he couldn’t see anything with all the steam. He opened the door and rain drizzled into the rig entrance. Before them lay a stone path leading up to a small cottage.

Drew jumped down and his boots made a splat in the mud. He picked Anna up and set her down on one of the stones. Together they hurried up the path to the doctor’s cottage. Drew knocked on the door and introduced them. The housekeeper ushered them in. She had them both remove their shoes and then set them in a small but tidy sitting room. Thankfully the fireplace blazed on the opposite wall. They both walked toward it and tried to absorb the heat, to dry off and to warm up.

Anna rubbed at her arms to ward off the chill from the cold rain. Then she sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace and considered their surroundings.

The curtains had been pulled back to allow a perfect view of the downpour. Fat, heavy drops plopped onto the windows with little thumps. It was the perfect cozy room for snuggling up with a book in such weather.

An older man hobbled into the room with the assistance of a cane. A pipe hung from one side of his mouth. “Mrs. Frank said you were with the Metropolitan Police in London,” he said. He came all the way into the room and then lowered himself in the chair adjacent Anna’s.

“Scotland Yard, the detective division,” Drew clarified. “I was hoping you might be able to assist with a current investigation.”

“Can’t imagine I can do that, dear boy. I haven’t been to London in nearly two years,” Doctor Carroway said.

“The information you can help with is from when you were the headmaster at the London School of Medicine.”

Doctor Carroway pulled the pipe from his mouth and pointed it at Drew. “Sit down, young man. I can’t stand for very long with this leg and you might as well get more comfortable yourself, as your wife has done.” Doctor Carroway eyed her. He then went about putting tobacco in his pipe.

At the mention of her being his wife, Anna turned to Drew, presumably waiting for him to correct the old man. But he saw no reason to do so. Drew obliged the doctor and took a seat in the remaining chair. “I need to get some information from you on the three men expelled from the school, seven years ago, I believe.”

As soon as the good doctor lit the pipe, Drew knew the tobacco blend was the same as the one he’d once used. The same one Mia claimed Jack the Ripper also used. Interesting connection.

“I know the story to which you refer.” He puffed on his pipe and considered Drew and Anna. “I shall tell you what you want to know,” Carroway said, again pointing his pipe at Drew. “First, though, I want to know why an inspector is so interested in something that happened seven years ago. How precisely does that involve a current investigation?”

Drew took a deep breath. “I trust you can be trusted with sensitive information?”

“Of course,” Doctor Carroway said with a nod. “I am a physician. We take an oath and it is in our inherent nature to keep our patients’ information discreet.”

“We’re exploring the theory that Jack the Ripper has medical training.”

Doctor Carroway’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed. I’d be curious to know how you came to that conclusion.”

Anna took a moment to explain to him their experiment, how she’d identified the two different knives and how she’d discovered that all of the Ripper’s victims shared the same precise incisions. “I brought my notes to my professor and he agreed with my assessment. We don’t know if the killer has official medical training, but it certainly appears that way,” she said.

“And you are a medical student as well? Who is your professor?” Carroway asked.

“Doctor Harrison,” she said.

“Mitchell,” Carroway said with a nod. “Excellent physician. Now then, let me see what I can tell you. There were three boys who were expelled that year because we discovered they had rented an apartment and were performing medical procedures on the local prostitutes.” He stopped talking for a moment while a coughing fit wracked through him. The housekeeper slipped into the room, handed him a cup of something to drink and he nodded his appreciation. He took a sip, then several long breaths to calm his wheezing, before he continued. “They’d recruit the women and then tell them they had some wretched disease that would require a surgical procedure. They sliced those women up—nothing fatal, though two women did later die from sepsis.” He took a few more puffs on his pipe.

“Do you know where these men are now?” Drew asked.

Doctor Carroway nodded. “Harry Bennett came from a very affluent family. They were horrified by his behavior. As soon as he came home from school, they shipped him off to India. I believe he is still there. Though I couldn’t be certain.” He ticked off Harry on one finger and then pointed to his next finger. “Brendan Jackson fell ill and died a few years back. I believe he contracted some sort of pox from a woman he operated on.” A tap on a third finger. “Roderick Price, as far as I know, still lives in London. He won’t be of any assistance; his brain is rotted from all the opium. But should you want to locate him, I suspect you could try one of the main opium dens that populate London.”

“None of them sound as if they would be good candidates for Jack the Ripper,” Anna said. “Though their hobby is disgraceful and certainly would have fit with the Ripper’s tactics.” She frowned, then said, “Were there any other students who got in similar trouble or simply dropped out? Promising students with a great deal of talent with a blade?” she added.

“I’m getting to that.” He pointed his pipe at her. “Patience, young lady. Now then, I was always convinced there was a fourth boy in their group. None of the others would ever reveal his name. He was never caught. But I had my suspicions. Two candidates as far as I could tell: William Henry and Peter Winstead.”

“What happened to them?” Drew asked.

“As you may know, William Henry is the Queen’s nephew, so I suspect he is doing royal things. I really have no notion.” He coughed again, took another few sips from his drink to calm his breathing. “He did not graduate. Instead he quit school and decided to live off of his rich relatives. Winstead, though, did graduate. Not from the London School of Medicine, mind you, but from some smaller school in Scotland. He is a practicing physician in London.” Then Carroway shook his head. “I wouldn’t trust him with my health. He was always far too arrogant to be a decent physician. Makes up his mind before he has all the facts.”

Drew made notes of everything the doctor had said. They had new names and therefore potential suspects.

“You two best be on your way.” He pointed his cane to the window. “That rain is only going to get worse.”

“Thank you,” Drew said.

As Anna came to her feet, they both thanked Doctor Carroway again and then made their way to the carriage. Rain had seeped into their clothes by the time they reached it, and Anna shivered as Drew helped her inside.

Their rig turned back on the main road and started back for London.

Anna tried to keep her focus on the investigation and not on the tingle of happiness that had shot through her upon being referred to as Drew’s wife. It was something she couldn’t allow herself to want unless she wanted to have her heart broken. Drew had made it quite clear that there could be nothing of the sort between them. “That was potentially quite helpful,” she said, forcing her mind off of such thoughts.

“Indeed. Though none of their names are on the lists from the tobacco shops.” Drew was quiet a moment. “Couldn’t help but notice Doctor Carroway smoked the same blend.”

“I wonder if that could be where the would-be doctor first came in contact with the tobacco,” she said.

“You’ve never told me, you know,” he said.

Her brow furrowed. “Told you what?”

“Why you want to be a doctor.”

It wasn’t often that people ever bothered to make that inquiry. They quickly placed judgment on her choice, but rarely asked why she’d made said choice. “My father was always interested in medicine, but as the heir to the viscountcy, he couldn’t very well go to medical school. So when I showed an early interest, he fed that with books and special tutors.”

She eyed Drew, and he showed no signs that he’d stopped listening or decided her tale was dull. “When I was fourteen, one of our beloved servants came down with cholera and she didn’t have the necessary funds to pay for the care she desperately needed. She died before my father knew what had happened, as he would have certainly helped with her care.” She shook her head as a wave of grief shook through her. “I don’t know if it was because of my age that it made such an impact on me. But obviously the male doctors aren’t serving the poor so it will be up to us women to take care of such matters.”

“You intend to only work with the poor?”

“I should like to open a hospital to serve the poor. Make it easier for those who are less fortunate to get medical care when they need it.”

“Are there not already such establishments?”

“Yes, but they don’t cater specifically to women. Despite the advancement of our society and all of the industrialization, women are still seen as property in this country, as burdens.”

“You intend to change that,” he said.

“I’m going to try.”

He smiled. “You are a remarkable woman, Annabelle Jacobs. I do hope you know that.”

His words hit their mark and tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You must have loved her.” He’d obviously mistaken her tears for those of grief and not appreciation.

“I did. Very much. She had been with me since I was a small girl. I loved her as I would any member of my family.” She paused for a while, wondering what his childhood had been like. Then she remembered his mother and the things he’d said about her. If he’d grown up being treated in such a fashion, no wonder he’d been inclined to drink too much. “Did you have anyone similar in your life?”

“Someone who died of cholera?”

She smiled at his poor attempt at a joke. “No, I merely meant someone you loved, someone who took good care of you, loved you well?”
She could love him well.
The thought spun through her mind and she nearly lost her breath. No. She would not let herself love him.

“My brother Alex and I were quite close growing up. We’re close in age. Our eldest brother, Stephen, didn’t seem to care for me overly much. But he was an odd sort.”

There was a loud crack, and then the carriage teetered.

Anna grabbed onto Drew. “What’s happening?”

The rig veered to the left, then tilted to the right, where it finally came to a jarring stop.

“I think we might have lost a wheel. I’ll go check.” He jumped down from the carriage and, sure enough, quickly returned to report they’d lost a wheel in the mud.

“There’s an inn right through that clearing,” the driver said, pointing from outside the open door. “Best to wait out the rain there while I get this fixed.”

Drew nodded. He held his hand out to Anna. “We’ve got to take shelter,” he said loudly over the rain. “We can’t stay in the carriage while it’s broken. Hopefully we’ll be able to return to London by morning.”

She allowed him to help her out of the rig. He draped his greatcoat over her. It helped, but her wet clothes and the continual beating of the chilled rain made her teeth chatter. “Where are we going? Back to Doctor Carroway’s?”

“No, there’s an inn right through those trees. Can you run?”

“Of course I can, though I can’t promise how fast in these slippers. They’re not exactly designed for this weather.” But run she did. They were thoroughly drenched by the time they reached the inn, quaintly called The Pig’s Ear Inn.

The innkeeper led them to their room, and once they were closed inside Anna immediately began trying to dry herself off with her handkerchief. She patted her face and then removed her hat and continued to attempt to remove the excess water. Her efforts were futile; she was far too wet.

“I know that both of us in this room could easily disparage your reputation,” he said. “But I felt as if it’s safest for you. I shall sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. Then she sighed heavily. “This handkerchief is simply moving water from one part of my body to the next. In any case, we can share the bed. It is for one night and no one has to know of this incident.”

She was a practical sort, but Anna took for granted that he had more restraint than he possessed. He’d already taken more liberties with her than he ought, and were he next to her body all night long, it would be beyond his control to resist her charms. But as he saw no other options, he would not argue the point.

“I’ll go and see if I can locate us some drier clothes. And order some warm food.”

“Before you go, could you unbutton me?” She turned her back toward him, giving him access to the long row of buttons that slid down her back. “If I don’t get out of this wet frock, I shall certainly catch a fever.”

He moved behind her and slowly unfastened the buttons. His hands shook slightly, but he assured himself it was nothing more than the chill in the air and the fact that his own clothes were exceptionally wet. He forced himself to move quicker so that he could leave the room before she removed anything. When all the buttons were undone, he stepped away, turning his back to her.

“The quilt there should be enough to warm you up while your dress dries.” Then he left the room.

Drew exhaled slowly once the door was closed. Here he’d thought denying himself a drink had been a challenge. Tonight would certainly prove the most challenging of everything he’d faced.

The food turned out easy to come across—the innkeeper’s wife had made a hearty pheasant stew and had warm bread. She busied herself fixing them a tray of food. The clothes, on the other hand, proved more challenging. While the innkeeper’s wife was rather friendly, she was also quite plump, which boded well for their meal, but meant that any of her clothing would swallow Anna whole. But she did find some extra blankets for them.

He thanked her and made his way back to their room.

Anna sat wrapped in the quilt like some Grecian goddess, in the only chair in the room, her legs bent up against her body. All of her clothing hung on the screen outside the fireplace. Every. Single. Piece. Which meant she was completely nude beneath that quilt. He stopped in his tracks and took in the sight of her, how the light flickering of the fire illuminated her hair. Tonight she was a goddess.

Her bare arms and shoulders and the delicate arch of her collarbone left his mouth dry. He could spend hours kissing just that spot.

He cleared his throat and hoped she wouldn’t notice the strain of his arousal against his trousers. “They had additional blankets for us, but no clothes that would fit. But the food will help.” He set it down on the bed. There was no where else to put it. “You start eating. I’m going to get out of my own wet clothes.” He grabbed a blanket, then moved behind the changing screen and peeled his wet clothes from his body. He did his best to focus on the coldness of his clothes to try to staunch his arousal. He dried his wet body as best he could then wrapped the blanket around him in as much of a toga as he could fashion. It left his arms and chest mostly uncovered, but Anna was training as a doctor—she would be familiar with the male form. He stepped around the screen, carrying his own clothes and carefully hung them, too, from the screen so the fire could dry them.

Anna now sat on the bed cradling a bowl of the stew. Her mouth was full, but she gave him a bit of a smile. “This is delicious,” she muttered, then tilted her head. “And so warm.”

She was ridiculously adorable. “I suspected it might be. Our hostess appears as if she is quite adept in the kitchen.”

“I’ve never had a picnic on a bed before.” She paused a moment. “Then again, I’ve never been trapped nude in a country inn with a man.”

“Hmm . . . I suspected this was part of your regular routine.” He narrowed his eyes playfully at her, relieved that they could rely on humor to deflect from his intense attraction to her. “You definitely seem the type to—”

“Get caught nude with men?” She shook her head and grinned broadly. “No, I admit, this is my first time.”

“Well, you’re handling it as a professional would.”

She chewed and swallowed her bite of bread before asking, “Did you just insinuate that I was a prostitute?”

He laughed. “No, you are most definitely not a prostitute.”

They went back to eating in silence and he did everything he could not to look at her, not to watch her mouth while she nibbled on her bread and licked broth off her lips.

Christ, he wanted a drink. He was so bloody tired of tea and coffee. He wanted that burning sensation as the brandy warmed his throat. He wanted his senses dulled so he would stop wanting this woman he had no business wanting. And yet he knew that as tempting as brandy was, it held nothing over Annabelle Jacobs.

***

S
he saw the shift in Drew’s mood in his eyes. They’d been jesting with one another and then darkness settled upon him. She’d seen it happen once before, but it had been so quick, he’d been able to turn away. But here in this tiny room, as they dined atop this bed, covered in sheets, he couldn’t turn away.

There was such intimacy in the setting, it was hard to deny, hard to not be overwhelmed by it. This was the setting for lovers, a married couple. She and Drew, they were what? Partners in an investigation? She didn’t know if he’d take it that far. She was merely assisting him.

“Why the dark mood?” she ventured.

“I want a drink,” he said. Then he swore, shook his head.

“You didn’t mean to admit that?”

“No, I didn’t. But I know you’ve seen that weakness in me.”

“What is it you want?”

One of his eyebrows quirked. “I don’t think we’re quite ready for that conversation. But to drink, I would take a brandy, bourbon, scotch, anything with a little punch.”

“I tried scotch once. I thought it was dreadful.” She shook her head, remembering the foul liquid. “It burned and scratched its way down my throat as if I’d swallowed an angry bird. I’ve never been certain how anyone could abide the stuff.”

“Consider yourself fortunate, then.”

“So you want a drink, but you don’t want to have one; is this the problem?” she asked.

“Are you always this nosy?”

“Yes. It’s part of my inquisitive nature. It’s what makes me a good doctor, or what will make me a good doctor. And I suppose what assists with helping in this investigation.”

“Inquisitive is simply a more polite word for nosy.” His jesting tone was back.

“Perhaps. And you don’t have to answer the question.”

He was quiet for several moments, and she allowed him the reprieve. If he was going to talk to her, she would not force him. She might be nosy, as he suggested, but it was only because of her seemingly unquenchable interest in him.

“The reason that bastard was able to pin those murders on me was because I was too drunk to notice,” he said finally. “My stint in prison was a convenient way to quit drinking, because they wouldn’t give me any. I haven’t had anything since I’ve been out, but not for lack of desire.” He shook his head. “It’s clear to me now that I obviously have a problem with the stuff, and it clouds my mind too much.”

She wasn’t certain what she should say. So she merely leaned forward and placed a hand on his.

He looked up at her, his amber-colored eyes narrowed with suspicion, and then the hard lines softened. “And your brother made it quite clear that if I wanted to work this case with Scotland Yard, I was not allowed to be inebriated.”

She smiled. “That sounds like Simon.”

“Are you finished?” he asked, indicating the dishes in front of them.

“Yes, thank you.”

He cleared the dishes and she watched him move. The muscles in his arms were masterfully defined, and she knew that Drew must take care of his physique. They flexed and moved as he set the dishes down and then turned back to face her. Without the food between them, she was able to focus clearly on the man who stood before her. The blanket covered most of his body from her, except part of his chest and arms and his bare feet. There was something incredibly intimate about seeing a man’s feet. She took a deep breath.

“I suppose we should get some sleep. Hopefully the rain will be gone come morning, though the roads might still be too muddy to traverse until midday,” he said. He made to lay himself on the floor and she held up a hand.

“Drew, I told you, there is no reason for you to sleep on the floor when we have a perfectly acceptable bed here. It will fit both of us.”

“I don’t want to do anything to damage your reputation,” he said.

“I don’t believe you care about reputations anymore than you do hair ribbons, but it is kind of you to say. But allow me to concern myself with my own reputation.” And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t already ruined her, though no one knew of their secret kisses. She patted the bed next to her. “Come. All will be well.” She moved herself so that she could shimmy beneath the coverlet of the bed and she found the mattress surprisingly comfortable as she extended her body.

He stood for several moments watching her, obviously warring with himself about what he should do. Then he finally stepped over toward her. He doused the lamp, then she felt the bed shift beneath his weight as he laid down. He did not slip himself beneath the coverlet, much to her chagrin, as she craved his warmth. Still she knew he was there next to her.

“Would you like me to share a secret as well?” she asked.

“Beg your pardon?” His voice seemed even deeper in the darkness.

She shivered in response. “I only meant that you have shared your struggles with drinking alcohol and that I could share something with you, too.”

The bed moved as he rolled over to face her. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness to some degree and she could make out his head as he leaned up on his elbow. “Annabelle Jacobs, please share your deepest, darkest secret with me.”

In that moment she wished she had something deliciously wicked to share with him, something that would shock him. But her life had been relatively lackluster up until this point. “I’ve always felt that my mother preferred my eldest sister and brothers to me. She doesn’t understand me at all and thinks I am wasting my time going to medical school when what I should be doing is parading myself about London in search of a husband. Though I will say that she’s not bothered me about such things in a few weeks.”

It sounded foolish coming out of her mouth in comparison to what he’d shared with her. When he didn’t say anything, she continued. “But this, lying here with you, this would definitely be my darkest secret. It’s rather scandalous.”

“Your mother is wrong. You are not wasting your time in school. Someday you will be an excellent doctor. Men are a waste of your time. You’d be hard-pressed to find one who deserved you,” he said.

“I don’t think you’re a waste of my time.” Wrapped up in the quilt and then snuggled beneath the coverlet, Anna felt as if she were constricted by the blanket rather than rolled in warmth. She squirmed out of the first quilt and allowed it to drop to the floor beside the bed. The coverlet touched against her naked flesh, reminding her how very scandalous this situation was, lying here with Drew, both of them without clothes. “You asked me once if I’d ever believed you to be the killer. I didn’t. Though I didn’t know you, I never thought you were him.”

She turned on her side, facing him. She ran one finger along the rounded muscle of his shoulder. “Did you know that this is called the deltoid?”

“Is it now?” he asked.

“Indeed. And this”—she trailed her finger down over his chest—“this is the pectoralis major. I can’t help but notice that you have a perfectly toned physique for studying muscles. That’s my professional opinion, as a future physician.” Not as a wanton woman who suddenly and inexplicably wanted to rub herself all over his perfectly toned physique. She was thankful for the darkness so he couldn’t see her blush and the lust that no doubt shimmered in her eyes.

“Perhaps I could model for your fellow students,” he suggested.

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m not so certain I want my fellow students gawking at you,” she said. “I prefer to keep this particular knowledge about your body all to myself.”

“Greedy,” he said with a chuckle. In the next moment he had taken hold of both of her arms to hold her to him, then he lowered his mouth down on hers. He kissed her passionately, slowly, seductively.

Then his mouth found her throat, her collarbone. He nibbled and kissed. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress. She relished the feel of his lips.

“I don’t believe I finished my anatomy lesson,” she said.

“This is better. Trust me.”

His rich voice caressed her in the darkness, shrouding them in intimacy. This was the way husbands and wives spoke to one another. Quiet murmurs in bed with the night’s darkness surrounding them. Whispers between lovers.

His body cradled up against hers. His arm snaked around her center, laying heavy on her far-too-sensitive, much-too-aware flesh. Reminding her of her nakedness. This must have been how Eve had felt in the Garden of Eden. The heat from his arm resting against her abdomen permeated the thin coverlet.

Desire coursed through her, making her focus on his every breath—every inhale and then the slow warm exhale of air that fluttered over her skin. His fingertips gently rubbed across her abdomen. Desire followed his every touch as if he were a match and she the flame.

She wanted him. Wanted him to touch her, kiss her, make love to her. She wanted him more than she’d ever desired anything else in her life. Tonight might be the only night she could have him.