I swallowed the rush of emotions cascading through me, and I shivered again.
Austen moved to my side, his chest rising and falling.
All I could hear was our breath and the tapping of the rain. Elizabeth’s laughter had faded and would never be heard again. The sudden and overpowering knowledge that she was being murdered while we stood there and waited pressed upon my chest, chasing away all thoughts of Austen’s kiss.
“She’s—right now—” I leaned into him, and he put his arm around me as if he might shield me from this horror, as well. He held me in his arms, and this time there was no passion, no urgency—just comfort.
My emotions had swung from wonder to terror in the blink of an eye, and tears threatened to choke me.
A two-wheeled cart approached from Commercial Road with a single horse and driver.
It would be Louis Diemschutz, the steward of the International Working Men’s Educational Club. He was also a peddler and would be coming back for the night.
He turned into the gated yard, and I pressed my face into Austen’s chest, knowing that there was no way out of the yard butthrough this one entrance. Elizabeth was now dead, and Jack would soon escape.
Austen placed a kiss on the top of my head as we waited in the terrible silence.
A minute passed, and then the man in the peaked cap emerged.
My heart pounded at the sight of him. The monster that would capture the attention of the world—and get away with murder—was across the street from us.
He was not running, but he moved at a fast pace, slipping something inside his inner jacket. As he hurried past on the opposite side of the road, he suddenly stopped and looked in our direction. His face was shadowed under the brim of his hat.
I was still in Austen’s arms, so he simply turned me toward the wall and kissed me again, his heart hammering so hard, I could feel it against my chest.
There was a scream from Dutfield’s Yard, and Austen pulled back.
Jack was off again, running in the opposite direction of Commercial Road, where there would be fewer coppers.
My entire body was shaking, and I swallowed, trying to control my breath. “Do you think he saw us?” I whispered.
Austen didn’t answer but took my hand and led me toward Commercial Road and onto the side street where Miles would pick us up.
He didn’t need to answer. I knew the truth.
Jack had seen us standing there—but had he seen our faces?
14
Buckinghamshire, England
September 30, 1938
There was a festive atmosphere in the Astors’ golden ballroom that belied my mood that Friday night. Heavy gilded trim, floor-to-ceiling mirrors, and dark green wallpaper made the long, narrow room feel much bigger. The Munich Agreement had been signed that day by Neville Chamberlain, Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini, and Édouard Daladier, the prime minister of France. The Sudetenland, a large portion of Czechoslovakia, was now under German authority—and the Czechs were not given a choice.
Many British citizens thought that a war had been avoided and were celebrating. Others, like Winston Churchill, a prominent and outspoken member of Parliament, knew it was only a matter of time before Adolf Hitler would demand more, and he was vocal about his concerns.
“You’ve been quieter than usual tonight,” Mama said as she approached me on the edge of the dance floor at Cliveden House. She slipped a wayward lock of my red hair behind my ear. “I miss seeing your dimples. Is everything okay?”
The band sounded out of tune, the clomping feet on the wood floor were too loud, and the laughter in the ballroom grated onmy headache. I would have rather spent the day buried in research for the exhibit at Lancaster House, trying to find answers about Jack the Ripper, but I’d spent part of it traveling to Buckinghamshire and the other part trying to make small talk with the Astors’ guests.
“I’m fine,” I said to Mama, trying to put a smile on my face. I hadn’t told her about Austen’s kiss, or how it had completely upended me. Nothing had made sense since then. I felt like I was in a daze. What made it worse was that Austen and I hadn’t said a word to each other all the way home from Whitechapel that night. What was there to say? He’d kissed me to blend in with the other couples lurking on Berner Street and to avoid being seen by Jack the Ripper, but it had been the most exquisite and heart-wrenching thing I’d ever experienced. And in the end, Jack might have seen us, anyway—which was something else I hadn’t told Mama. I was still trying to process it myself.
“You don’t look fine,” she said as she studied me. “You can confide in me, Kathryn. I know what it’s like to lead two separate lives. It’s confusing and scary and thrilling, all at the same time. But more than that, it can feel lonely.”
I took a deep breath, not able to hold it in any longer. “Austen kissed me.”
Her eyes betrayed her surprise. “Just like that?”
