The sight before her was one Susan had always dreaded. Seeing her husband being taken away in chains was the way many of her nightmares over the past four years had begun, and yet a mere four hours ago, she had thought herself finally free of that potential scenario.
She and Jackson had walked home from Lehman Street arm in arm, each quietly contemplating what had come to pass that morning, what it meant to be finally through running from their past. Upon stepping through the door of the wrecked house, she had sighed heavily. It would take a day to repair the house from the damage the Pinkertons had wrought and another to round up all of the girls from wherever they gone to flee Frank's men. Her thoughts were interrupted when his hand found hers, their fingers interlacing easily.
She felt guilty smiling knowing that mere blocks away, the street was stained with Frank Goodnight's blood. While Susan had no affection for the man, she knew well that there was a brotherhood amongst the Pinkertons, and bonds had been severed and lives lost for the sake of her and Jackson's happiness. She shifted away from him just slightly, but in doing so their eyes met and for a moment she was back in New York wondering whether the whole of the city could hear her heart pounding when she looked into Matthew Judge's eyes.
Taking a breath, she tore her eyes from his gaze and once again took in the wreckage before them. No, this certainly wasn't New York and although they could be called as such without consequence, Caitlin Swift and Matthew Judge seemed such distant shadows of who they were now. But where then did that leave Susan Hart and Homer Jackson?
"I could have never dreamed it would happen like this," she said softly.
"And yet here we are, you and me, darlin'." He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead slipping his other arm around her waist and pulling her close. Unlike the previous day, it was Susan who reached up to stroke his cheek, and it was she who pressed her lips to his. Yesterday, they had kissed and it felt like goodbye; today when their lips had met, there seemed to be only possibility ahead.
As the constables led Jackson out of the room four hours later, Susan could still feel her husband's lips on hers, but she couldn't help but wonder if they hadn't indeed just been prolonging their farewells of the previous day.
Were she the type of woman who fainted easily, this most certainly would be an occasion for it. She briefly considered faking it; a woman swooning over her husband's arrest might well provide a proper distraction, a chance for them to run. But she didn't how how many men Abberline had outside and how many others had already gathered at the rumor that the chief inspector had his Ripper.
No, Susan was not prone to fainting, but arguing was quite another story.
"I assure you that this is all quite preposterous given that Captain Jackson is a surgeon in your very own H-Division. If you simply summon Inspector Reid -"
"He'll do what, Madame?" Abberline said in a condescending tone a little too reminiscent of Theodore Swift for her liking. "Turn a blind eye to the fact that this man has been lurking under our noses for years now. I'll see them hang side by side if I have to."
She gave him a defiant glare, "And what of your failings in all of this, seeing an innocent man hang on a false charge?"
"You watch your tongue, Miss Hart, lest I start questioning how it seems to have escaped your notice that Whitechapel's most notorious criminal has been living comfortably under your roof." The chief inspector's voice raised to a shout as they stood glaring at each other on the landing.
"Abberline!" came another shout, this one from the staircase. The two policeman escorting Jackson halted their descent, allowing the Captain to turn, just slightly. "Go ahead and drag me down to Lehman Street so we can get this sorted out."
Hands chained, he managed to nod toward Susan, eyes locking with hers for just a moment. "But you leave her out of it."
She opened her mouth to give Inspector Abberline yet another piece of her mind, but closed it again, unsure she could muster the desired amount of force in support of her argument. Susan needed all of her energy to fight back tears as Jackson was once again made to move down the stairs, out the front door, and once again away from her.