Vaughn lay on the cramped bed in the tiny attic room. He could tell by the light coming in from the small dormer window that it was early morning. He had not slept a wink. His legs hung off the bed and even curled he could not fit his large body comfortably onto the stingy mattress. Where was Glorianna? He needed to speak to her desperately.
He forced himself to forget the sight of her in her flowing white night rail. He hair in a messy braid and her sweet pink toes padding ahead of him as she had led him like an ethereal ghost to this room. Even sleep mussed her tiny form was an erotic site to his starved eyes. Her tiny breasts pinched with cold he cold close his eyes and remember her nipples brushing against her gown with every step. Vaughn squeezed his eyes shut willing his erection to subside.
Where was she? He needed to start thinking of how to get out of this blasted room. He had already tried the lock. She hadn’t left the key in the door so it could not be pushed out and retrieved under the door. She had taken it with her obviously. Was she so angry with him still that she’d leave him here to rot? How much of a disturbance could he make to get her attention without giving himself away to the rest of the household?
He needed to keep his whereabouts secret. It was the reason for coming here. There was no one else in London he trusted. Had he miscalculated? Was she even now calling the Inspector? He growled to himself. As much as he admired the man, he could not help but remember the look in the inspector’s eyes as they roved over Glorianna.
When he had arrived back at his house to get ready for the exhibition he had found that Inspector Levinson had left his card with Harold. The newspaper identifying the last victims was placed nearby. It was a shock when he’d read the identities of the latest women taken down by the East End murderer. At first he had thought that the Inspector had called upon him to photograph the victims again. Then he realized finally that all of the victims targeted had been his subjects. It could not be a coincidence. It all started to add up to Vaughn. He was being framed and the Inspector was looking for him.
Who could hold him in such low regard that they would want him to be blamed for those heinous crimes? His thoughts tumbled about. One way or another he had to get to the bottom of this. He could not stay in hiding forever. Vaughn began to pace. It was a short trek. His long legs made about three strides to the next side of the small room. Damn he felt like a trapped rat! He would give Glorianna another hour or two and then he would bring down the house to get out if he had to.