Hyde Page 11

  Jekyll kissed her then, and I felt it as well through the cloak of his decrepit flesh. It reminded me of the kiss that Rebecca had placed upon me the previous night, and those memories of our encounter flooded through me. I longed to feel them again, and feeling Charlotte's passionate embrace stirred my emotions.

  I felt shock when Jekyll began to kiss her more insistently. On their last outing, Jekyll had been chaste to the point of folly, only placing light kisses upon her cheek. Now he pressed his lips against hers more deeply. His hands slipped around her waist and drew her closer to him. One hand began to move downwards to the back of her dress. His tongue pushed against her lips.

  Charlotte tore her lips off of him. She braced her hands against his chest and pushed him a foot away. She looked up at him with wide eyes, her fingers against her mouth.

  "You've never kissed me like that before," Charlotte whispered.

  "I'm sorry," blurted Jekyll. "I don't - I didn't mean - I don't know why I did that. I'm so sorry."

  She turned and ran from the drawing room. Jekyll moved to follow, but their butler stepped into the doorway to block him.

  "My apologies, doctor," said the butler, "but the General requests that you leave immediately."

  "But I have to--"

  "I'm sorry, sir. I have my instructions."

  Jekyll stood there helplessly for a moment, then turned and left the home.

  I was in shock. Why had Jekyll done such a thing? I knew he was not the pillar of virtue that he presented to the world, but had always been very careful at betraying his true self. In one moment, he had allowed his facade to fall away and exposed his inhibitions. It seemed entirely out of character for him.

  It was on the carriage ride home that the truth dawned on me. His kiss was indeed out of Jekyll's character, but it was in mine. It was not Jekyll's desires that had overcome him; it was my own. I had felt a longing to kiss Charlotte more passionately, and Jekyll had carried it out. I had long known that Jekyll could transmit thoughts and feelings to me, but had never considered that it might work in reverse.

  I felt a rush of excitement at the dawning notion that I was not a complete prisoner inside of Jekyll. I had the ability to influence his actions. I was not powerless, after all.

  Chapter Thirteen - Another Pleasant Evening

  FOR THE rest of the day, I attempted to seize control again, but to no avail. Jekyll ignored my every thought and whim. My only satisfaction came from the fact that, when Jekyll returned home, his first words to Poole were "Fire the housemaid at once."

  That night, Jekyll crept downstairs and mixed the drug to trigger the change. I was released and fairly leapt out of the house and into the night. Lucky waited nearby as per usual and I climbed into the cab.

  "Where to, sir?" Lucky asked.

  "Home. I must change."

  Lucky drove me to my flat, where even at that late hour, I encountered my housekeeper Mrs. Grey.

  "Evening, sir," she said. "I thought you should like to know that an inspector from Scotland Yard came to visit. He was going door-to-door throughout the neighborhood inquiring on your whereabouts in a matter of some importance."

  "I see," I said. "And what did you tell them?"

  Grey shrugged. "Only that I did not know of a Mister Hyde."

  "Well done." I hurried to my rooms to change into my finest outfit.

  On the way out, I found Mrs. Grey still standing by the front door. She wrung her hands as she said, "I know it's not my place to say, Mister Hyde, but I felt a need to say my peace. As I said when you first moved in, I am not given to curiosity. Your affairs are your own. But I do feel moved to warn you that you are in grave danger."

  "What are you speaking of?"

  "I have heard talk, sir. Talk of a man who visits the pubs and thrashes all who seize him soundly. A man who spends liberally on whores, opium, and drink. There are those who wish to find him for what he's done. And what he may do. Such a man needs to be careful, sir, lest he finds himself in something he cannot fight or spend his way out of."

  I leaned closer to the old woman so she could see the glint in my eyes. "And what is it to you what happens to that man, Mrs. Grey?"

  She did not flinch or withdraw from my glare, only faced me and returned my gaze with the same intensity. "I know that you're lonely, Mister Jekyll, and afraid. Have been all your life. Desperation can drive a man to do things he wouldn't normally be wont to do. And you're angry at the world for the way it treats you. Just be careful that it doesn't drive you to do something that you might regret."

  "You are my housekeeper," I growled. "You know nothing about me."

  "I am your housekeeper, but I know more than you might think." She turned and hurried up the stairs to the upper floor. I heard her door slam shut.

  I shook thoughts of her out of my mind and returned to the cab, calling out, "I must return to the same pub as last night. And quickly."

  "As you wish, Mister Hyde." Lucky snapped the reins, his horses reared back with a snort, and we were off. "By the by, I happened to mention your success with an associate of mine."

  "Success? Oh, you mean the fight. What of it?"

  "Well, it just so happens that I have the good fortune of knowing a man in the business of arranging pugilistic bouts for profit."

  It took a moment to decipher his roundabout phrasing. "You mean boxing matches?"

  "That I do, Mister Hyde. A certain Nathan Labonte. He runs a pub in Soho, and they keep a boxing ring in the back room. I told him of our successful wager last night, and he's quite keen to meet with you."

  I turned away to gaze at the city gliding by my window, dismissing him with a wave. "I have no interest in pugilism as a profession."

  "I understand, sir, but I might urge you to at least meet with the gentleman. There's no harm in a friendly chat, now, is there?"

  "Perhaps. I have other things on my mind at the moment."

  "Of course, sir." He turned his head to throw a wink over his shoulder. "And quite a handsome thing she is, sir."

  I couldn't hold back a smile. "Is it that obvious?"

  "Indeed, sir. Though we have only been associates for a short time, I must say I have never seen you as happy as you are on this evening."

  "Yes. I do believe you are right." I mused on the transforming power of a lovely woman on the ride to the pub.

  The pub fell into silence upon my arrival. I swept the room with my eyes, watching the patrons wither at my gaze. Over time, the tension rose as I allowed the silence to pass. When I merely walked through the crowd to the bar without injuring anyone, the conversation returned.

  I found her sitting there, drinking daintily from a tall glass. Rebecca Webb turned and smiled at me. "Hello, handsome. Lovely to see you again. Thought you might not come back after I gave you the goods."

  "Quite the contrary. I am eager to sample them again."

  I leaned in for a kiss. She obliged, but then pushed me away. "Whoa there, handsome. We could have more to our relationship than that."

  "Relationship? I wasn't aware that we had one."

  "Well, you do now. Set yourself down, luv."

  I took off my hat and set it down on the bar next to her, then took a seat. I ordered rum from the bartender as Rebecca asked, "So tell me about yourself."

  I took the drink as the bartender set it down and drank deeply. "There is little to tell."

  "Come now, don't be like that. What do you do? Where were you born?"

  I signaled to the bartender for another drink. "I do not pay you to ask questions."

  She smirked. "You do not pay me at all."

  "If I did pay you, would the questions cease?"

  She giggled. "Perhaps. But it would need to be a sizable sum."

  I drained the second glass, then studied her. "I can afford it. But seeing as how we are meant to know each other, I have a question for you. Why are you doing this?"

  Rebecca blinked. "Doing what?"

  "This. Talking to me, spending time w
ith me."

  "Is it so strange that a woman would want to spend time with you?"

  "Yes. No woman has before."

  Rebecca's brow furrowed. "Perhaps that's why I do. I could see it in your eyes, my dear, your pain."

  "The first you saw me, I was inflicting pain on someone else."

  "Exactly. And I must admit, I found that rather thrilling to witness. You can handle yourself quite well. A lady likes to know she'll be safe around her fellow. But I was referring to the pain of your existence, your sadness. I saw how lonely you were, how everyone pulled away from you. I thought you could use someone like me in your life."

  I felt a burning in my heart I had never felt before. "So you felt pity for me, is that it?"

  "There's a difference between pity and sympathy, my dear." Rebecca turned to face the bar and brushed some of her long curls from her face. "I have tasted loneliness myself."

  "But a taste, Miss Webb. I have drunk deeply of it."

  She looked me in the eye, searching. "Yes. I can tell. So I thought we might be lonely together."

  I reached out to take her hand and hold it. She squeezed my fingers and smiled a smile that warmed me from the inside. Her touch was warm and soft. I felt that I should savor that moment forever.

  "No one in society wants us," said Rebecca. "We are scorned by men. But we do as we please with no concern for scruples. You're brutal, primal, but I see the good in you."

  "And what of you?" I asked. "Where were you born?"

  She laughed. "Oh, no, it doesn't work like that. If you're meant to be a cypher, then I shall be one as well. We shall be a matching pair."

  I laughed, too, realising then how little laughter I had in my short life. We kissed and drank, and spoke of life. She gave me little about herself, save that she had been a fallen woman for several years and lived at the boarding house with her flatmate, Elizabeth. Unlike most prostitutes, she enjoyed her work.

  "I get to help men," she said. "I make excellent wages. And I am not bound by the limitations that most women in England are forced to endure."

  She waved a hand to take in the pub. "For example, I get to travel in lovely establishments such as this, where a woman of a higher social standing could never set eyes upon."

  "Can't imagine why she would," said I. "Well, I can tell you that I am the son of a very wealthy man who bestowed his fortune upon me and bade that I enjoy the sinful life that he could not. I have little else to do but drink and fight and carouse."

  "Not a bad life."

  "So you would think." I hunched over my fourth mug of rum. "But I quickly discovered that company is in short supply. People enjoy my money, but not the man who supplies it."

  Rebecca clucked her tongue in sympathy. "Society can be so dreadful at times. Have you any family?"

  "No. My father is gone and I knew nothing of my mother. My only other relative is my grandfather, and he died a month ago. Yourself?"

  She looked down at the bar and twirled one of her blonde curls around her finger. "My father is still alive, but knows nothing of this life that I live. No other relations."

  "And what of a husband?"

  "Once. He died. Such is the loneliness I spoke of. The isolation played a role in driving me to this life. And what of your wife?"

  I snorted. "None. Nor might there ever be."

  Rebecca raised her eyes to me and treated me to a wink. "Are you quite certain about that?"

  Before I could respond, Rebecca took my hand and led me out of the pub. "But come, let us be away, handsome. We have little time and much to enjoy."

  And so we retired to her boarding house once more.

  Chapter Fourteen - A Meeting With Labonte

  MY ENCOUNTER with her was much the same as my last. Shortly before dawn, Rebecca bid me goodnight and I left to return home. On the ride, Lucky brought up his associate once more.

  "Fine," I said in weariness. "Arrange the meeting for tomorrow night."

  "Very good, sir," said Lucky with such eagerness that it made me suspect he had some profit involved in the affair.

  I changed at my flat, then had Lucky drop me off several blocks from Jekyll's home. I slipped into the back entrance, and mixed and drank the formula. Once again, it had no effect until I drank a second dose, whereupon I was changed and returned to my position in Jekyll's soul.

  Another day passed without incident and I slept through much of it. I was awakened by the transformation that shook me loose into the world once more.

  I went out to meet Lucky and retire to my home, where thankfully I found no sign of Mrs. Grey. Her concern unnerved and irritated me. I needed no one to give me advice like a disobedient child. I was quite capable of handling my own affairs.

  Lucky had not forgotten our arrangements of the previous night, and neither had I. In fact, after more careful consideration, I found myself looking forward to meeting with Labonte. As it stood, I had nothing to my future, save more brawls and whores. Jekyll had his work to busy him during the day. Why should I not have my own? The prospect of gaining a profession appealed greatly to me.

  Lucky drove me to one of the largest homes in London, one overlooking the Thames River. He parked the cab and climbed down to open the door for me. I expected him to lead me to the front door, but instead led me to a door on the side of the house. No lamps lit that doorway, and Lucky stepped into the shadows to knock twice, pause, and knock again.

  The door opened, casting a weak yellowish glare into the night. A woman stood there, a maid servant by her dress.

  "Evening, Sally," said Lucky. "We're here to see Labonte. This is Mister Hyde."

  The maid bowed slightly as she regarded me with the usual look of distaste, but said, "Certainly. The master is expecting you. Follow me, please."

  She led us into the doorway, which led down a narrow hallway into a large study. Among the elegant furnishings stood a tall man in a long red gown. He had a large mustache that hung down on both sides like the tusks of an elephant. On one cheek, I could see the deep grooves of a scar that hadn't quite healed. Even under the gown, I could see that Labonte was a bull of a man.

  Lucky took off his hat and held it over his stomach. "Evening, my lord. This is the man I told you about."

  The man sucked on a pipe as he said in a deep growl, "You're Edward Hyde."

  It was not a question, so I did not answer.

  "I've heard of you," the man said. "Understand you're quite the fighter."

  Again, I said nothing.

  Labonte's eyes rolled up and down over me for a moment. "You look more like a man on his deathbed."

  Lucky spoke up, pointing at me. "That's the best part, my lord. People see him, they get their hopes up, think he'll blow over. I swear, every bloke in the bar bet against him without even thinkin' twice. But you should see him fight. He's a right scrapper, he is. Takes you by surprise. He's fast and strong, will pound you to the ground as fast as look at you."

  Labonte grunted and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "What do you have to say for yourself, Hyde?"

  I said, "I would be happy to demonstrate my skills if you would permit me."

  Labonte's mustache twitched up in a smile. "My fighting days are long behind me, Hyde. They used to call me 'Bones' Labonte. An injury forced me to retire, and fall back on my other skills; making money and not being too concerned in how it's done. I've been running my boxing matches for years, but my best fighter just died, so I'm looking for someone to replace him. Lucky thinks you might be the one, but I confess I have my doubts. Lucky's a good man, but you look as if you've got consumption. I'll give you a match against one of my lighter men. If you can beat him, I'll put you up against my heavier weight classes. If you fight as well as Lucky says, I'll pay you handsome for it. What do you say?"

  "Fair enough."

  Labonte chuckled. "I'll say this for you, Hyde, you certainly have a manner about you that sets a man on edge. That will be good in the ring, makes for a good show."

  He thrust out a hand t
hat could have fit around my throat. My small hand vanished in his as we shook.

  "On one condition," I added. "Scotland Yard has it in for me, so I wish to remain anonymous. I should like to go by the name Edward Devlin."

  "As you wish." Labonte offered me a drink and a cigar, and he described the pub that he ran in Covent Garden. "It's the largest fighting-house in London. I built the Calf and Flag from the ground up. Fights take place in the back room. That room has come to be known as the Bucket of Bones."

  Labonte showed obvious pride as he said, "I conduct my boxing with strict rules and protocols. We follow the Marquis of Queensbury rules. Someday, boxing will be made legal in England, and I can bring it all out into the open without a single change. And the other houses will have to follow my lead."

  Labonte seemed a decent enough fellow. Though I still had my doubts, I agreed to the deal, and made arrangements to have my first bout in a few days. I left feeling overwhelmed by the prospects. I went to visit with Rebecca Webb, and we spent the evening together in her bed, just talking.

  She expressed amazement as I told her of my encounter with Labonte, saying, "You actually met with Labonte? I've heard of him. I thought he never saw anyone personally. He must have liked you."

  "I suppose. It's all somewhat overwhelming. I enjoy fighting, but I never thought of it as a career."

  "Well, I think it would do you good. Might be a way to channel those violent tendencies, my dear. And you might even find yourself in higher standing. People always fancy a winner. It's all quite exciting."

  I stroked her hair as I asked, "But do you really think I could? I don't have any formal training. I just do what comes natural. The floor of a pub is very different from a boxing ring. And Labonte said it's quite strict."

  Rebecca gently moved my hand down to her neck. She didn't like it when I touched her hair, said she spent a lot of time getting it right and didn't want it mussed. "I believe you'll do fine. You've got the heart, just need a little direction. As in all things."

  Chapter Fifteen – Training for the Match