Chapter Ten

When Millie awoke two days later, it was with frustration thrumming through every part of her body. She had barely left the confines of her rooms, only being allowed to attend dinner with Emma three times a day as her father had been even more absent than her usually was.

Due to her continued confinement, Millicent was racked with guilt as she was actually feeling excited to attend the funerals. Not so much for who she was going to honour though as her heart ached at the thought of watching her dear friend be returned to the earth and the woman who often pretended like she was her friend but in reality could be further from it. She felt guilt, the boiling kind that hit her at unexpected times, usually when a small smile would make it on to her lips. But she couldn’t stop it, today was the only way that she would get out of the house, even if it was to stand there in the rain and be forced to listen to mournful tributes for over two hours.

Dressed head to toe in dark colours, their party climbed into the awaiting coach in a sombre procession. Like a true show of their wealth and her father’s abilities, there was barely a pop or a click as the clockworks that enveloped them, ticked into gear and rolled the coach forwards at a steady pace.

Millie took great care with the bouquet of white roses that she held within her grasp. Emma was politely holding the white lilies within her hands. They contrasted greatly with the black of their clothing and the sombre mood that had fallen over them all but it felt right to them to honour them with white. For, while they would mourn their passing, the coach’s occupants had to believe that they were now in a better place, one with no pain and no fear only love and peace.

Portside cemetery sat behind a little church on the outskirts of town. Although the church itself, which was crumbling in on itself as it edged closer to five hundred years old, was no longer used, the graveyard was the resting place for half of the townsfolk. The rest instead choose to be buried in the rolling hills of the next town over.

Millie, as she glanced up at the falling structure that spoke of neglect, knew that she would prefer to be buried somewhere else. Anywhere that didn’t send shivers crawling down her spine even on the warmest and hottest day.

Assisted down from the carriage by her father and Emma, they supported her along the winding path until they came to a stop in the middle of the green. Statues of white marble stood up on all sides as sombre markers of those who had passed. From where she was stood, Millie could see the white marble and greened copper that marked a grave close to her heart, the one that belonged to her mother.

The beautiful construction, commissioned by Mr Clancy himself, reached up to the sky with outstretched fingers. When she was young, Millie had always thought the angel, who had been etched with the features of her mother, looked as if she was trying to reach that promised place - the peace beyond but by putting her into stone she had been trapped here, forever reaching, forever longing.

Millie forced her head away and was more than pleased when the path ensured she had to turn her back on the sculpture and follow the guiding hands to the other side of the cemetery which had been transformed to accommodate the crème de la crème of high society.

It was while the priest started blessing the two women, their attributes that sounded like caricatures of the people Millie knew them to be, that she shook off the arms around her body and stepped away. It was an urging deep inside that had her moving away from the pair and the general falsities that people were painting onto these dead women. And deep down the blonde knew that neither women deserved it. They did not need to be depicted as saints for they were amazing people in their own right.

She didn’t like that Ermintrude Valance often tried to hang onto her skirts to share in the popularity that came with her sizeable wealth and connections but she was strong and bold – completely unafraid of doing things that other people would shy away from. She was always the one who got invited to balls and galas because despite her slightly abrasive personality, she was often the life of the parties making people laugh.

And there was sweet little Elaina.

Sickly and shy but the kindest heart amongst all of the women out on the town this season. Or at least she was. She always made a special effort to speak and be polite to everyone despite who they were and what they had said about her in return. She was a verifiable angel in human form. And she was gone. Her heart which had made her so loveable torn from her very chest to fuel the blood filled fantasies of the Ripper.

Shivering, the young woman walked away from the crowds, stopping several feet from the main group and dropping down by a weathered and forgotten headstone. She didn’t have to turn her head to feel someone behind her but she did anyway.

The man was about two years older than she was and dressed in the uniform of household staff. And yet the tears that leaked down his cheeks were more emotional than what would come from a mere staff and employee relationship.

Twirling the white roses around between her fingers, the young woman pressed her lips together a few times before clearing her throat. The man, who hadn’t even noted her presence, yelped and darted back a few steps.

“Which of them was it you loved?”

She offered the man a smile and he tried to return it. He really did. But before he could complete the gesture, his lips wavered and more tears spilled from his eyes.

“My Elaina, we fell in love over her sickbed if you can believe that.” He gave a hysterical laugh which drew a few odd looks from other mourners. He merely scowled at them before turning his attention to the grass. “I was saving up for a ring and then we were going to tell her father. He wouldn’t have been happy, but Mr Banner is a good man and he would have done anything to make her happy.”

More choking and gasping sounded behind her. So the young woman, whose heart was breaking for the man grieving behind her, pulled her handkerchief from sleeve of her dress and passed it back to him. She received murmured thanks.

A few seconds passed with just some sniffling. Only the murmuring of the priest interrupted the heavy absence of speech. Then something glinting appeared out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head, Millie’s attention was grabbed by a thin yellow gold band with a small diamond that was smaller than the petit poi her cook insisted on putting on her dinner plate.

Her fingers stretched out to take the ring and examine it, but she resisted from actually touching it. The dainty thing felt sacred to her.

“I finally bought it the day she died. I – I was going to propose when she got back from the party. I waited out in the garden for three hours.”

“But she never made it home.” Millie offered when he stopped, unable to continue talking.

A grunt was the only sign of affirmation she received.

“There was nothing you could have done, you know that right?” Millie stated, wrapping her arms around herself while the roses were still clutched in one hand.

“There was someone else the Ripper got. I heard my father talking about it. Two people got killed because he made a coach crash to get the distraction he needed.” She turned her head and looked up at the wearied face behind her. “The Ripper isn’t just picking random people. If he took the time to break into someone’s house after creating a distraction that large – they are definitely determined to get their victim.”

Millie, who noted that the group was starting to break up, pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled as she found her feet but a hand on her arm held her steady. Glancing up, she met the red teary eyes of Elaina’s love and felt her lips crawl up into a wobbly smile.

“Thanks,” She murmured, spotting her father making his way towards her with a frown etched between his grey streaked brows.

“No thank you” the male beside her choked out. “Ellie told me all about you. You were her only friend – her only real friend that is.”

She nodded her head and turned to join her father before he could reach the two of them. Yet she had barely made it three steps before a voice halted her.

“Miss Clancy, if what you say is true – about the Ripper that is.”

She glanced over her shoulder and met his gaze. She raised a blonde brow at him as her grey eyes pleaded for him to hurry up.

“This Ripper has already killed a lot of people, and he’s chosen specific people. I think that he’s looking for something, the perfect kill – the perfect heart. I don’t know.” The man’s eyes roved over the floor as he ran his hands through his hair. Millie felt that she could almost see the cogs working within his mind. “If he hasn’t it -” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “If he hasn’t found it, he will kill again.”

Millie considered this for a moment, lingering with her eyes on the man before nodding.

“You’re right but what can we do?”

With that she turned away from Elaina’s love and approached her father. He put his arm around her shoulder and huddled her into his body while his gaze went over her shoulder. She knew who he was looking at which is why she pinched her father’s side though his clothes. When he levelled her with a glare, she just smiled sweetly and nodded at the waiting coach. She had enough to deal with without her father trying to murder someone. Because Elaina’s partner, whom she realised hadn’t given his name, raised some very important facts. If the Ripper was still searching, it meant that other women may still be in danger.