She kicked off her shoes and removed her woolen stockings. Reclining back on her elbows, she fanned her bare toes in glorious freedom. She sighed in delight and closed her eyes to relish the few moments when she didn’t have to wear tight leather shoes that pinched her feet.
She was stuck in this blissful repose when Mr. Steele returned.
Aislynn heard the clatter of something hitting the floor and her eyes popped open. Sitting up, she saw Mr. Steele bend down to retrieve a log for the fire that had fallen to the floor. In his other hand he held a metal bucket that she assumed held coal. “Pardon the intrusion,” he muttered as he kept his gaze carefully averted from her and bent down in front of the grate to start a fire.
She drew her legs up beneath her, suddenly self-conscious about anything that wasn’t covered around him. She noted that it didn’t take long before a roaring fire was quickly warming the interior of the room. “You seem as though you have done that a few times.”
“A few,” he murmured. He started to head for the door and although Aislynn should have let him leave and saved her curiosity for another time, she had the urge to know more about him.
“What was your childhood like?”
He paused albeit a bit reluctantly. “Nothing very exciting.” He looked at her. “Better than yours, it would seem. It was not until later that my father changed into someone I did not recognize.”
She shook her head. “I cannot imagine living all that time thinking that you knew someone so close to you, someone you believed that you could trust. At least I knew from an early age that I could not trust my mother.”
“It was a shock to discover how deep his depravity went.” A frown formed between his brows. “But with any chance of capturing this latest threat, I hope to soon have some much-needed clarity regarding his actions.”
“What do you plan to do with the killer once you have him in your custody?”
His focus was steady. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
She considered that for a moment. “Yes, I do.”
“I plan to hand him over to the doctors at Bedlam where they can run whatever tests they deem necessary to break into his mind. Once they have exhausted all of their efforts, then he shall be relieved of his desire to commit any further crimes. It’s a procedure referred to as trepanation.”
“I have never heard of it, but it does not sound very welcoming.”
“If you want the disturbing truth, a hole is drilled into the skull and a piece of bone is removed to assist in the removal of any damaging properties to the individual.”
Aislynn gasped, her eyes widening. “How awful. It must be a very lethal procedure.”
“It can be, yes,” he concurred. “Believe it or not, research has shown that the survival rate can be quite successful with a skilled physician’s hand and recovery without infection.”
“How fantastical to think we have advanced so far in our medical abilities that we can perform surgery on a human’s skull and brain without causing life threatening injury.”
“It is quite fascinating.”
She blinked. “Have you witnessed this being performed?”
He hesitated. “On my father. He did not survive the operation.”
Aislynn’s heart went out to him. “That must have been painful for you to witness.”
He gave a shrug. “I honestly felt numb over it all. To this day I am still uncertain how I feel about it.”
“I am still sorry that you had to endure it.”
“And I am sorry you had to endure the trials that you did.”
She couldn’t help but smile. It was better than the tears, of which she had certainly shed entirely too many over the years. “It seems we are quite a pair, you and I, Mr. Steele.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “It would seem so, Miss Sims. Sleep well.”
Aislynn didn’t stop him when he took his leave, but something about their candid conversation made her feel a bit more relaxed when it came to sharing his townhouse. Granted, knowing that she was not the first refugee that sought asylum there was of some consolation but knowing that he had suffered in a similar manner by the ghosts of his past made her appreciate the efforts he took to see that others had a safe haven in which to escape.
She got up and removed her town dress, thinking that when she returned to her flat, she would retrieve the supplies she needed to repair the ruined sleeve. Removing her front-lacing stays, she climbed beneath the covers in her shift and closed her eyes, determined to settle down for a restful night.
Darkness lingered outside her window, the fire in the grate still burning with a slight vigor, when she awoke to the sound of slamming doors and raised voices. She immediately sat up and threw the covers off, intent on investigating the source of the disturbance. However, it wasn’t a moment later when her door burst open and Mr. Steele stood silhouetted in the frame, his virile outline enhanced by the lamp he held in his hand.
