Something Wild Page 4

"Good God,” James Martin murmured as he approached beside Baden, drew out his handkerchief and pressed it to his mouth. Baden himself had felt a wave of nausea when he first arrived in Mitre Square, only five minutes before Martin.

  When Martin turned to heave the contents of his midday meal, Baden glanced around the Square. Anywhere else and the murder might have been seen. But the three empty cottages had created a blind corner and a perfect place to kill the woman and mutilate her.

  It hadn't happened that long before her body was found, Baden surmised. The scent of her blood was fresh, and there was something else lingering in the air. Faint and slightly familiar, but his acute sense found it. A masculine scent of sweat.

  He followed the fading trail around the corner, along the footway then across the street to the street lamp on the corner. The recent scent of a cigar found him, but he couldn't attribute it to the killer since many of the officers, James Martin, and the doctor himself also carried the same scent. Past the lamp post, the scent of the male continued down Mitre Street. It was the scent of sweat that was the strongest ... a scent both familiar and strange to him.

  "Detective?” Martin had recovered and now stood several feet behind him.

  "I smell him. It fades quickly, unlike the smell of other men, but still one that seems familiar to me."

  "You believe you have met the man who does this?"

  "I don't know. I need to find him.” Baden frowned. He'd never been on a case that had taken him so long to solve or had a criminal elude him as this one did. “I know that scent. I know it. It is too familiar. Perhaps one of the officials? I cannot know for certain though."

  "There is a way,” Martin suggested after a few moments.

  Baden's head snapped around. It was the first time James had ever hinted at what could be done. “Do not ask it of me, James."

  "That woman, and the others as well...” James shook his head. “This is a monster, Baden."

  "Send a monster to find one?"

  "That is not what I meant.” James winced. “If you were allowed to track him without the constraints of being human, you could sniff him out. I'm certain of it."

  "At what cost?” Baden hadn't meant to raise his voice. “You assume I would have the control after I found him to turn him over to you as I would now with my will."

  "I know of no other with so much self control,” Martin argued.

  "You put too much faith in me."

  "Perhaps,” Martin conceded then shrugged. “I've learned you've not the control I assumed anyway."

  Baden glanced at Martin's twitching mustache. “What do you mean?"

  "A man filed a complaint against you for assaulting him."

  "Assault?” Baden faced Martin fully. “I have assaulted no one."

  "I saw the man myself and did not believe his claims at first...” Martin's lips curled slightly. “...until I found out he was associated with our little thief, Cora."

  Baden felt his blood warm with shame. Of course. Martin was speaking of Webber. He'd almost forgotten about the disgusting man he'd struck the day before.

  "I can see by your face that his accusations, then, are truth.” Martin chuckled. “Though I am certain the events surrounding your assault are perhaps exaggerated. No need to worry, however. The officials threw him out of the building for speaking poorly of you."

  "I am shamed by my actions, I admit,” Baden spoke once they rounded back into Mitre Square.

  "Detective Sikes.” One of the officials hurried forward. “If you've nothing else to investigate here, we'd like to take the victim off the street.” Baden inclined his head.

  "He is a foul beast worse than any I could ever become,” Baden continued once the officer turned to relay to the others that they could proceed. “I could not help myself and had struck him before I even knew what I was doing."

  "I am pleased that you decided to help the girl after all."

  "You gave my conscious little choice, James.” Baden stopped and watched as the doctor instructed those who lifted the body how very careful to be with her.

  "May God ease your burdens, Kate Kelly,” Martin whispered, using the name Catherine Eddowes was known more familiarly by.

  * * * *

  "I see you let Ursula smother you with attention again.” Martin nodded to Baden's hand when he opened the door to his house and led his friend inside.

  "I did not,” Baden called over his shoulder as he headed for his study. “It was your little street urchin that bandaged me."

  "Did she?” Martin chuckled as he followed. “And you allowed her?"

  Baden stopped short when he found Cora in the study, standing on the ladder, dusting the top shelf of books. She'd obviously not heard them enter, for she didn't turn. Instead she reached out for a book and pulled it out from the rest to inspect the title and flip it open for a moment before returning it to its place.

  The curtains were gone from his long windows, and sunshine poured into the room, bouncing off the highlights of her blonde hair. For a moment, Baden forgot his friend standing just to the side of him and lost himself in her beauty.

  "I see now why you would not send her away.” Martin's softly spoken words interrupted his thoughts and brought his attention away from Cora. “Who knew that beneath that dirt lay such a breathtaking creature?"

  She turned and looked back then smiled, climbing carefully down the ladder. “Sir, I'd not expected you back so early. Forgive me for having your study in such disarray. I told Ursula that I thought, since you spend so much time here, that we should air out the curtains and dust. Of course she assigned the duty to me.” She smiled at Martin. “Hello, sir."

  "I'm pleased to see you again.” Martin smiled and stepped forward. “Quite pleased that you've sought a better life than stealing for yourself.” He chuckled, and her smile widened.

  "Detective Sikes has been very kind and has saved me from all the criminal activities that were in store for me."

  Baden walked across the room to pour himself a drink, asking Martin if he wanted one as well.

  "Perhaps tea instead?” Cora asked before Martin could respond. Baden turned and found her watching him. “I have a delicious recipe for spice tea that my father used to enjoy quite a bit. I'm sure you will find that much more appealing at this hour."

  "Perhaps another time."

  "Something milder then?” she suggested, and Baden frowned. No doubt, Ursula had set the girl on him to stop drinking so early in the day.

  "We're fine, Cora, thank you."

  "Sir..."

  "You may leave us."

  Her lips pressed together for a moment. “Sir, forgive me, but alcohol will dull your wits and senses. How are you to solve these murders if you are a drunkard?"

  Martin sputtered laughter, but Baden found no amusement in her words. “I believe I shall leave you to the will of your maid, Baden, and will meet up with you at the meeting tomorrow instead.” He held up his hand. “I shall show myself out.” Baden watched his friend duck back out from the study before dragging his gaze to Cora.

  "I find I'm at a loss about what to say to you."

  "I do not mean offense..."

  "Your intentions are poorly executed then.” He placed his glass on his desk and faced her again. “Certainly you do not mean to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own home. However lenient you may think I am on Ursula, I am so due to her years of service and friendship. But do not think I mean for someone else to come into my house and dictate to me..."

  "It isn't even noon, sir,” she interrupted insolently. “I'm certain you also don't mean to begin drinking now so that you shall be so intoxicated that you cannot walk by the time you take your evening meal?"

  Baden stared at her. He knew she was right. He'd turned more and more to liquor to burn away the problems of the day. But she had no right to pass judgment or to reprimand him in any way.

  "Perhaps I was wrong then,” she finally conceded, seeming to know that her damage to his honor was done. She tu
rned and headed back up the ladder to continue her dusting.

  "Leave me."

  "But, sir, I must finish..."

  "I said leave me.” He raised his voice then winced when her eyes widened. After a moment of hesitation, she slowly climbed back down the ladder.

  "Forgive me, sir, I only spoke out of concern for you and will not make the mistake again.” Her words were flat, cold, and he knew she was angry.

  "Have you ever seen a woman opened from breasts to her navel? Have you seen her insides strewn across the pavement and left in that manner for the flies to land upon? Do you know what the inside of a woman's abdomen looks like or what her face looks like when the skin is pulled away?” He strode forward as he spoke until he stood in front of her, glaring at her horror-filled expression.

  "I would guess that you have not, but will you try to imagine what you would feel if you did see such a thing. Now, imagine seeing it twice. How would you decide to deal with that image when you know it will be burned in your brain for the rest of your life and everyone's hopes rest on you finding the bastard that inflicted such mutilations?"

  Tears welled in her eyes but did not fall. She opened her mouth, closed it again. Her expression remained that of horror, and Baden felt like an ass for spewing his thoughts as he had.

  He calmed his voice. “No man knows the right way to deal with what we have among us right now. James Martin is the most decent man I know, and he goes home now to pour himself a drink as well. I invited him here today so he would not drink alone, so that he could speak on what has happened just as you suggested I do last night."

  Her chin quivered, causing him to hold up his hand. “Do not weep, because I do not think I can bear any more guilt than I feel right now."

  "Cora, come away,” Ursula called softly from the door.

  "Yes.” Relief filled him. “And, Ursula, do stay and explain to me why in hell you would send this woman to reprimand me and bring such shame.” He waited, and after a moment, Ursula stepped into the room.

  "She did not send me to do anything,” Cora defended, but Baden didn't look at her, resting his gaze on Ursula.

  "You think me without a conscience? You think I've no feelings of the things I see?” he accused, thankful to have her to lash out at instead of Cora. Ursula understood him, would not take his words to heart. He turned and snatched up the bourbon to take a drink.

  "Of course I do not. But that bourbon is not your relief from those feelings,” Ursula whispered. “Cora is right. It shall dull your wits. You would never forgive yourself if you missed the chance to apprehend him because you'd taken too much drink. I know you shall also never forgive yourself if you weaken your will with it and become that which you are determined to ignore."

  And there it was. His biggest fear. With a growl that sounded more like the beast he hated than man, he threw the glass he held across the room against the wall. Instantly, Ursula was at his side, her plump arm sliding along his shoulders when he sank down into his chair and bowed his head.

  "You are not taking care of yourself. I did not send Cora to you; she can see for herself. Anyone with eyes and common sense can see it,” Ursula said, pulling him against her.

  "He is smart, Ursula. He eludes me and continues this savagery and leaves me only the one choice I have.” He turned his face into the softness of her arms. “What am I to do but the unthinkable evil where there is no hope of justice?"

  "You are not solely responsible for catching the murderer, sir."

  "Am I not?” He laughed and pulled away from her. “When it is within my capabilities to do it?"

  "Leave us, Cora. You may go shake out his curtains before bringing them back. When you return, I'm certain he shall have an apology waiting, and you may talk him into doing the dusting himself.” Ursula spoke over his head to Cora, and he winced. Lost in his ranting, he'd forgotten she was still there.

  When the door closed, he sighed heavily. “I was cruel to her."

  "Her skin is not so thin nor her spine so weak she was harmed by it.” Ursula retrieved him a new glass of bourbon. “Drink, but do not think I will not lock you in the basement of this house if you grow paws and think to sniff at my backside as would a mutt."

  Baden stared down at the brown liquid as the chuckle rolled up his throat. “I deserve that, I suppose."

  "Indeed,” she agreed and reached out to run her hand through his hair. “More so if you have left a stain on the wall."

  "I shall clean it up myself. I do not expect you to do so after I've lost myself to anger.” He leaned forward and rested his head on his hands.

  "She thinks you are handsome, you know.” Ursula wiped at his shoulder as if dusting off lint that he knew wasn't there.

  "Who?"

  "Cora. She told me today when we went to buy vegetables for the stew I mean to cook tonight. ‘Quite handsome', I believe were her words.” Ursula continued to fuss over his clothes. “Of course I told her I thought she was quite mad for thinking so."

  "Wench."

  "Mongrel."

  "Leave me then, for I don't wish to hear how you think I should prey upon the woman to satisfy any appetites you think I've neglected.” He didn't look up, but smiled when she leaned down to kiss the top of his head. Martin was right. She treated him as she would a boy, but he didn't mind. He found comfort in her motherly ways.

  He remained like that, leaned forward forehead to palm, after she left and until the door opened again. The scent was not Ursula's but Cora's. She didn't speak, hurrying behind him, the curtains rustling as she hung them. Then she moved across the room. When he looked up, he found her kneeling and picking up the shattered pieces of glass.

  "Don't.” He rose when she continued. “You needn't do that.” She didn't look at him until he kneeled beside her and reached for her hands. “It is my own foolishness, and I shall clean it up myself."

  "I pushed at you and had no right to do so. I want to clean it up."

  "No.” He brushed the pieces of glass gently from her hands. “It was not your fault, Cora. I spoke to you in a manner which I'm very ashamed of and can only beg you..."

  He stopped when he found her gazing up at him. Her eyes hid nothing. He could see her pain for him, her compassion, and something else that scared him, lingering in those blue depths ... desire. The guilt that he'd felt before welled and filled his entire chest.

  "I was a selfish ninny and had not thought outside the fact that the murders were just horrifying. You were right. I'd not imagined what it must be like for the officials and you to actually see those terrible things.” She touched his face gently with the palm of her hand. “I cannot think now of how you must feel without weeping for you. I wish you'd thrown the glass at me for my callousness."

  "Please, stop looking at me like that. You shall make me take advantage of you atop my hellish behavior already.” But he leaned forward and cursed under his breath when her lashes dropped and she turned her face up to him. He didn't try to stop himself and kissed her.

  Soft, pliant lips gave way to his tongue when he thrust it into her sweet mouth. Raw hunger shook him, and he grasped her waist to pull her forward against him, kissing her deeply.

  One hand slid between them to cover her breast, and she arched into his touch, while the other pulled her tighter. Her mouth responded, kissing him back with as much passion as he felt. Her fingers curled at his collar, her knuckles warm against his jaw before they slid to the nape of his neck to hold him in their kiss.

  Tearing his lips from hers, he growled at the moan of disappointment she sounded. His fingers shook as he quickly worked the buttons of her dress. Then he pulled at the strings of the corset until it loosened and he could push it down and out of the way. Hungrily he caught the pink crescent of her breast between his lips and sucked, reveling when she inhaled sharply then arched into his mouth. His hand dropped to the hem of her dress and delved beneath. Under the skirts, up her stockinged legs, to the cotton that separated him from her bare skin.

/>   Pushing her to her back, he worked his tongue around the soft skin of her nipple and ran his knuckles across the cotton against her folds. He felt her shudder in response and repeated the movement.

  When she whimpered, her head tilted back and lips parted, he pulled at the layer of clothing until he exposed her sensitive flesh. He moved to her other breast and lathed equal attention before dropping his fingers against her sex. Her reaction nearly made him leap upon her. Her hips surged upwards against his hand, and her whimper was more of a plea.

  The point of her breast hardened in his mouth, and her fingers gripped his shoulders with as much need as that which pumped in his veins. He ran the pad of his thumb over the head of her clit in a small, circular motion that he matched with his tongue, and she moaned with encouragement ... encouragement that he knew he should ignore.

  Running his teeth against her skin before releasing her from his lips, he leaned forward to lick at the spot just below her ear. He could smell the scent of her desire now, breathed it in deeply.

  "You must leave me, Cora, or I fear I will ruin you,” he murmured against her skin.

  "I ... couldn't move away right now even if I wanted to,” she whispered huskily and pushed her hips upward again, demanding more attention to the spot he rubbed and plucked at.

  "Do you want to?"

  "No."

  He dragged air deep into his chest before bringing his lips to her ear. “You should slap at me and tell me to go to hell, Cora. I've no right to touch you like this.” She whimpered again, and he could feel the muscles of her body tensing. She was close, on the brink of an orgasm.

  Pushing her skirts higher, he moved so he could replace his fingers with his tongue. She gave a cry of surprise when he swirled his tongue against her, and then a deep groan when he cupped her ass and lifted her to his mouth so he could close his lips over that small spot of sensitivity and suck ... hard. She flew over the edge in an abrupt frenzy, her hips writhing and her cries echoing through the room. He didn't release her, continuing until her body trembled and her breath was ragged around her voice.

  "Please, it's too much now."

  He rocked back onto his heels, running his tongue along his lips, tasting the salty sweetness that she'd offered him. He wanted nothing more but to leap upon her and bury himself inside her, make her his. It was an irrational, selfish thought.