If the victim Mary Jane Kellywasn’tmy sister, I had nothing to worry about. But if she was, then I would need to save her. Changing history wasn’t asin, I had to remind myself, just something that wasn’t advised. The cost would be forfeiting this path earlier than I had planned, but I would make that sacrifice, if necessary.
I knocked on the back door of Austen’s home, and a maid answered. “Is Mr. Baird in?”
“He’s in the front hall, miss,” the maid said.
I moved past her through the back hall and entered the front.
There were two large wooden crates in the hall, tall and thin. Three men were hauling them out the front door.
Austen stood nearby, looking anxious as the boxes were transported. “Be careful,” he cautioned them.
“Are you selling some of your parents’ artwork?” I asked.
He didn’t even bother to turn at the sound of my voice. “Something like that,” he said.
It surprised me that he would sell items that had belonged to his parents. Nothing had changed since they’d died. Not a single piece of furniture had been moved. Even when his aunt had lived with him, he hadn’t let her change a thing.
“What paintings are you selling?” I asked.
“You don’t know them.”
I frowned. “I know all the paintings in this house.”
“Not these.”
A fourth mover entered the house and handed Austen a piece of paper, which he signed, and then the mover doffed his cap and helped remove the last crate, allowing Brinley to close the door behind them.
“Has it gotten that bad?” I asked Austen, taking a step closer to him, conscious of his worn clothing. “If you need financial help—”
He gave me a look that silenced my offer.
Brinley left us alone in the hall.
“Are you back to fight with me again?” Austen asked me, crossing his arms.
“I need to return to Whitechapel and look for a woman named Annie Chapman.”
He sighed.
“Do you not have time to take me?” I asked him.
“I have the time, but it’s not safe, Kate.”
“You promised you’d help me find Mary, and I can’t find her unless we go there.”
“Perhaps we should hire a private detective.”
“I can’t afford one, and you ...” I trailed off, not wanting to remind him of his financial troubles.
“I can afford to hire a private detective. I’m not destitute.”
“I don’t see the need, if we have foreknowledge to help us.”
“Who is Annie Chapman? Does she know your sister?”
I pressed my lips together, not wanting to admit the truth.
He narrowed his eyes. “Who is she, Kate?”
