Page 40 of An Unwilling Earl
“Yes.”
“America is so large that a person can get lost there.”
“Exactly my plan. I believe Cotton can give me the necessary credentials. A new name and references. The problem is that it comes with a price.”
“Your soul?”
She shot him a reproachful look. “You’re not funny.”
“How much do you need?” The amount didn’t bother him. What bothered him was sending her halfway around the world to a strange place and an even stranger life, all alone.
“I’m unsure. If I want quality work—which I do—”
“Of course.”
“It will cost more.”
He knew he would help her in the end, but he also knew he needed time to find an alternate plan.
Marry Miss Morris.
…
Charlotte had mixed feelings about asking Jacob for more help. On the one hand, she had no one else to turn to. She’d inherited a small amount of money when her father had passed away, but Aunt Martha had quickly taken it for Charlotte’s “upkeep” as she had said. There was no possible way she could ask for that money back. Jacob was Charlotte’s only chance.
They sat down to dinner, and Charlotte looked at her food. It smelled and looked delicious, but after reading the stories of the girls that had been killed she was too heartsick to eat.
“I was reading some of your newspapers,” Charlotte said, as she pushed the food around on her plate.
“Oh?” Jacob didn’t seem to have the same problem she did with eating.
“I was reading the stories about the girls that were found in the Thames.” While she didn’t want to talk about it, she also wanted to get someone else’s thoughts on the murders.
He looked up from eating to frown at her. “That’s not exactly light reading.”
“It’s horrible.” She put her fork down, unable to eat.
“It is a terrible thing that is happening to them.”
“Ishappening? Do you think there will be more?”
“There’s no way to tell, I suppose.”
“Who is killing them?” Her breath was coming fast, and she desperately tried to control it. She knew who was doing it. Or she thought she might know. Maybe. No. Surely she was wrong. Except the thought hovered in the back of her mind.
“I don’t believe Scotland Yard knows that yet.” He glanced at her shaking hands, and she quickly put them in her lap and looked down at her plate. The gravy from the meat was starting to congeal, and she swallowed.
“Charlotte?”
She peeked up at him.
“You don’t have anything to worry about. Those women were all servants.”
“So far.”
His eyes flickered. “There’s nothing to say that there will be more victims or that the killer will start…will switch to a different kind of victim.”
“Those poor women,” she whispered. “I hope they didn’t suffer.”
