Chapter 6
Sorry it's been a few days. I moved back to university so I had stuff all over the place
He crossed over to his washbasin and found a glass and filled it with water, then handed it to her.
"How do ya feel?"
"Tired." She replied as she sipped the water. "What happened to that poor girl? The one who was murdered."?
"Mmm 'fraid the Ripper got to her m'ame." He told her thoughtfully.
Daisy looked worried.
"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll take it upon myself to personally look after you." He came and sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over her leg under the counterpane.
Daisy smiled at him. "Tell me more about yourself, you haven't told me anything yet." She looked at him with her soulful eyes.
"What would you like to know darlin'?" He reached out and brushed some hair away from her soft face. Daisy pulled herself to sit upright and propped herself up with a pillow, drawing the counterpane up and around herself.
"Where would you like me to start?" His dark eyes bore into hers, starting to smoulder.
'From the beginning." She laughed.
He rolled his eyes at her and smiled. "Well…I grew up in Tennessee in the South. Joined the army and fought in the war. Trained as a surgeon."
"What war was that?" Daisy frowned.
"Civil War, Union against Confederates. Every man in the US, if he were able, was involved, to fight the slave trade." He explained.
"Ooh. Who did you fight for?"
"Well I was living in Chicargo by then, so I was in the Union. We don't want no more slaves."
"Good. I don't think keeping slaves is right. What brought ye 'ere to London then?"
"Susan wanted to start a new life and Inspector Reid hired me for the H Division here in Whitechapel. Made quite a reputation for myself I do believe." He ran a hand through his hair.
"You're the surgeon? Ain'tchya?"
He nodded.
"That' s a bit gory 'int it?"
"I'm hardened accustomed to that m'dear." He looked down at her delicate pale-skinned hand atop the counterpane.
When Daisy had awoken, she was very delirious as to where she was, and for a moment quite panicky.
A family Yankee voice drifted across and she realised she must be somewhere with him. The American? But where?
She then accustomed herself to her surroundings and realised she was in a bedchamber. A bedchamber with the Yankee. Interesting.
He finally reassured her that she had fainted, although she had no recollection of that whatsoever. She sat up and took him in. He slight stature, the way he carried himself. His brown eyes and hair. His sideburns and whiskers, not the best kept, they showed he was a working man.
He had sat down on the bed near to her, shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing some quite muscular, tanned forearms. He carried a faint smoky smell about himself, mixed with the smell of aged whiskey. His obvious drink of choice, it was what she had seen him drink earlier at The Brown Bear.
It was then that she realised that she should be heading to her shift at work, but where were her clothes? Surely?...
"Don't worry about ya clothes Miss. You were still in yer nightclothes when we rescued ya." He could tell by her face and the way she was looking about the room.
"How will…" She started.
"Don't worry your pretty self." He patted her arm. "Miss Susan will sort you out."
"Who is… Miss Susan?"
"She owns this place. She's mistress to the brothel."
"Brothel!" Daisy exclaimed.
"Guess it's not what you were expecting for a police surgeon huh?"
Homer saw the look on her face when he mentioned the word 'brother'. Guess it wasn't what every girl expected, although to a man, it would be a dream.
"I shall direct ye to Susan, then I'm afraid I must attend to policing matters." He stood up and walked out the room to go and find Susan to enquire about clothes.
"Susan!" He caught her bustling about downstairs. She looked up from arranging flowers
"Has the girl left?" She enquired arranging a rose.
"She's awake, but needs garments as she only has her nightdress."
"And I suppose you want me to do something about that, do you?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well what else is she to do Susan?" He grabbed her arm.
She paused and sighed deeply before lifting up her skirts, making her way up to the landing and rummaging through a cupboard. "Here, give here there?" She thrust a bundle of clothes and lace at him.
He looked a bit embarrassed. "But I-I don't know to…"
"I'm sure you've had plenty of practice Homer." She smirked.
"Taking them off yes!" He yelled to her as she made her way back downstairs.
There was a lot of tittering behind him and they realised that some of the girls had overheard them.
"Right! Back to business girls." She clapped her hands and they all scurried off.
Jackson stood there looking down at the pile of clothes in his arms, before crossing the landing to his chambers. He hesitated before knocking on the door.
"Ermm…yes." Came a small voice.
He grabbed the door handle and twisted it till it clicked open.