Viridis - A Steampunk Romance (14 page)

“Yes.”

Chapter Eighteen

When Phoebe came to, she found herself lying on the
bed, Seth at her side looking concerned. “What happened?” Phoebe
started to sit up. He gave her a hand, propping the pillows up,
before settling her back so she could sit upright.

“You had a bit of a faint.” He brushed a stray curl
from her forehead, his touch lingering as he traced the outline of
her face.

She reached up and covered his hand with hers, as
their eyes locked and her heartbeat tripped over itself in
excitement. “Seth, I meant what I said. I’ll marry you, if you’ll
have me.” He let out a deep breath.

“That I will, my love.” Reaching over to his
nightstand, he opened the drawer and after a moment turned back to
her. “Would you do me the honor? It was my mother’s and my
grandmother’s before that.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger, a thin silver
band engraved in knotwork, a ruby embedded in its center. Her hands
trembled as she looked at the ring, her emotions overwhelming.

“Seth, it’s beautiful.”

He brought her hand wearing the ring to his lips,
and then leaned in to kiss her ever-so-gently, avoiding the cut on
her lip. She knew it would be difficult for him to ignore or forget
what happened with Victor, but as she wrapped her arms around his
neck and deepened her kiss, she hoped it was something he could set
aside for now.

“Let me get the fire going and I’ll help you out of
your gown.” With the night being so terribly cold, Seth built up
the fire in the room and then pulled her to her feet so he could
help her with her dress. She was feeling better after her faint,
and stood with her back to him, allowing him access to the lacings
on her dress.

“By the gods, Phoebe. How do women manage without
someone to help get them dressed and undressed? I do not understand
why you do this to yourself.” He tugged at the silk cording on the
back of her gown, pausing momentarily when Phoebe started to
laugh.

“As if we have much choice. Do you not think I’d be
far more comfortable in my riding breeches? But could you imagine
the reaction I’d get? As if my unorthodox relationship with you
isn’t enough to stir the pot.” Still laughing, she spun around to
face him, her fingers making quick work of his shirt buttons,
tossing the garment to the side.

He pulled the pins from her hair to release her
curls, a teasing smile upon his lips. “I reckon that’s my point.
You’d take me to your bed and ignore their wagging tongues, but
then torment yourself with fashion so as not to cause speculation
and comment. Now spin back around so I can get this contraption off
you, before I get frustrated and cut you loose, ruining a perfectly
beautiful dress.”

She obliged him by turning her back to him, as he
continued. “Is there anything more exasperating than having
fashion, of all things, stand between us?

“Does this mean I can spend the night in your bed or
are you still going to exile me to the guest bedroom?” She looked
over her shoulder at him with a mischievous look.

“As if I’ve ever been able to resist you.”

She knew it was the truth of the matter, and the
reason he’d taken her to his bed, despite her refusal to marry.
Once they’d started courting, he had stubbornly resisted her for
months with hopes of changing her mind about marrying him. In the
end, he had surrendered to what was between them, unable to deny
her any longer.

With her gown finally off and tossed haphazardly
over a chair, she thanked the gods that this corset had been
outfitted with a metal busk down the front, allowing Seth to unhook
the loops from their posts with a far greater ease than struggling
with the lacing that crisscrossed up the back.

Finally free of her clothing, she turned towards
him, when his eyes drifted from her face to the mottled bruising on
her arm.

“Did he do this too?” He grabbed her arm, and she
stifled a yelp, as he apologized between curses. “What else did he
do, Phoebe?”

She cupped his face in her hand, trying to ease his
worries. “Nothing else happened, Seth. Please, just let it be. No
good will come of making it an issue and I do not want to ruin this
night. I want tonight to be about the two of us and no one else.”
Leaning in, she kissed him, her lips lingering on his.
“Please.”

His entire body was stiff, and with his hands
clenched at his side, she knew he was furious enough to put his
fist through a wall. Reining in his fury, he turned his attention
to her. “As you wish.”

Hoping to distract him, she took his hand and led
him to the bed, kneeling before him on the thick mattress. As her
hands sought to free him of his breeches, she nuzzled against him,
trailing kisses down the side of his neck. But his body remained
tense.

He kissed her hard, gripping her hips and pulling
her to him, sending her pulse racing. And then he pulled away from
her, taking a deep breath. “I cannot do this. I’m sorry, Phoebe.
I’ll not risk hurting you further, and I have precious little
control right now.”

He turned away from her and sat on the edge of the
bed with his elbows on his knees, his hands, fists, tangled in his
hair, his breathing ragged.

Phoebe could not remember ever seeing him so upset
and angry. She slid up behind him, and wrapped her arms around his
waist. “Seth, come back to me.”

“Phoebe, do not ask this of me.”

“You could never hurt me. Please, my love. I need
you to make this night about us— not him—for I’ll not let him come
between us.”

He turned towards her, and her stomach clenched at
the sight of him; the way the light from the fire spilled across
the planes of his muscular form, his hair disheveled. He reached
for her, and an intense hunger sparked in his eyes, no longer
willing to be denied, anger or no.

He covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss,
before stopping one last time. “Phoebe, I do not think I can be
gentle with you, and I’m afraid once I start—”

She kissed him. Kissed him so there were no more
words. Kissed him so all other thoughts were erased from their
minds. Kissed him so there was only the meeting of flesh and the
joining of souls.

Seth plunged into her with one thrust, and she
stifled a scream against his shoulder. Her body shuddered from his
attentions and the Viridis, all her senses coming alive. He paused
for just a moment, and she caught her breath, her heart racing. No
longer under any semblance of control, she braced herself against
him, the pleasure building as he buried himself in her, time and
time again. She thought he might tear her in two with each new
assault, as though he were claiming her as his own— his and no one
else’s.

The energy built within her, a cry escaping her
lips. She bit down on his shoulder, as a shudder coursed through
her, pushing her over the edge. Her body clenched beneath him, her
legs attempting in their futility to hold him still against her,
but his pace only quickened, until he surrendered to her in his own
finality, her name on his lips.

***

Phoebe lay in Seth’s arms feeling battered and
bruised, broken and spent, and never more whole.

Their coupling seemed to have diffused his anger. “I
did not hurt you too much, I hope.” His voice was hoarse, tainted
with regret and apology.

She shook her head no, unable to find the words to
explain that he could never hurt her in such a way. It was not
something he had in him. What he was inadvertently capable of, she
was fully able to handle, for he never pushed things past what she
was comfortable with.

He pulled her in close, his arms holding her to him
tight, keeping her safe and warm in their embrace. Burying himself
in her curls, he kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “I do love
you, a
ghaoil.
”

Phoebe spun in his arms to face him with a look of
surprise. “Those words—did you not say them to me the first time we
met?”

He laughed out loud, lines creasing the corners of
his eyes, his sorrow now gone. “You remembered.” He gave her a
quick hearty kiss and a smile. “I’ll never forget that day.”

“Neither will I, let me tell you. You were such a
mess,” she laughed, kissing the hollow in his throat, before she
nestled back into his embrace.

He pulled the blanket up over her shoulder. “I could
not believe it. I was having one hell of a time with some tinkering
or other, when you walked into my workshop. I thought I was
hallucinating with you standing there between the piles of metal
and half finished tinkerings—in a crimson dress no less. I don’t
think I was capable of speech for the first couple of minutes after
first laying eyes on you.”

It seemed so long ago. A lifetime away. After
speaking to several tinkerers about what she was trying to
accomplish with the formula for Viridis, they had all pointed her
in Seth’s direction. And so she had tracked him down, not without a
fair amount of difficulty and more than a bit of coin.

She had found him, covered in grease and grime,
banging away on some tinkering and swearing so loud, he hadn’t
heard her knock or let herself in. It was only once she’d turned
the corner, calling out his name, that he had finally realized he
had company. He had stood there, sweaty and shirtless, his hair
disheveled and falling in his eyes, a tool in his hand and a look
of shock on his face. She felt for sure she had turned the same
shade of red as her dress.

When he finally spoke, he had asked her, “With what
may I be of help,
a ghaoil?
” She had been stunned into
silence to see eyes so blue smiling at her, the sweet lilt of his
voice striking right at her heart. She often thought of that day,
but could not remember the words he had spoken in a tongue so
unfamiliar.

“So what does it mean? It’s Scottish, am I right?”
She thought about it some. “I think that’s the only other time I’ve
heard you say it.”

“It is the only other time, though it’s how I’ve
always thought of you.” The corner of his mouth turned up with a
hint of a smile, his eyes looking lost in memories. “And, aye, ‘tis
Scottish. It means
my beloved,
” he said, playing up his
lilting brogue. He let himself fall back to his more natural speech
pattern, picking up a hint of a lilt, acquired during his childhood
in the Highlands.

He continued, “I knew from the moment I set eyes on
you. There could never be another. You,
a ghaoil
, are the
air I breathe, the blood in my veins, my heart and my very soul.
And soon, you will be my wife.”

His lips found hers, and he took her again, but with
all the gentleness and care in the world, Victor forgotten, if only
for now.

Chapter Nineteen

William knocked on Seth Elliott’s door, trying to
push through the exhaustion threatening to cloud his brain. It had
been one hell of a long night, most of it spent questioning Lilly,
the rest of it having his wound stitched and bandaged. In the end,
there’d been no reason to hold her, none of the evidence pointing
to her as the killer.

Though Niles was killed soon after Lilly had gotten
off from work, she would have had to track him down in a hurry, no
easy feat with the snow and ice coating the roads. She had also
been more than happy to supply him with several names of girls she
worked with who would vouch for her presence during the time in
question. He had finally let her go into the night, with nothing
more than her promise that she would not disappear again.

Seth himself answered the door, welcoming William in
and escorting him to the drawing room. “I hope you found the house
with little difficulty?”

“None at all, and with the cold finally breaking, it
was an enjoyable ride.”

Turning his attention away from Seth, William was
surprised to find Phoebe in the drawing room, and even more
surprised to see the cut and bruise on her swollen lip.

“Lady Hughes. A pleasant surprise.” He had to look
elsewhere as soon as was politely possible, embarrassed to have
found her in such a condition, and wanting to spare her any further
emotional distress.

William faced Seth, biting his tongue to keep from
speaking about a matter he could not bring up without insult and
embarrassment to Phoebe herself. However, when he spoke, he could
not keep the anger from tainting his voice, while glaring at Seth.
“Mr. Elliott.”

Seth’s eyes shifted to Phoebe for just a moment
before returning to William. “Phoebe, my love, would you mind
putting together a tray of tea and a bite to eat?”

Phoebe gave them both a smile. “Not at all.”

William nodded politely as Phoebe excused herself.
But the moment she left the room, he whirled to face Seth, appalled
that he’d been so wrong about a person’s character. “How dare you
lay a hand on her?”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one taking the assault
seriously. I hope you believe me when I say I could never raise a
hand to her, or any other woman for that matter. I’m no such
coward, and would give my life to protect her. Now if only I could
get Phoebe to take the matter seriously.” There were no signs of
evasion as he held Williams gaze, his voice ringing true.

William felt better to have not been so wrong about
the man. “My apologies. Who then?”

Seth just shook his head. “I’d love nothing more
than to give you that information, however I do believe Phoebe
would have my hide for it and if I were being completely honest
with you, I want the pleasure of dealing with the man myself,
especially now that Phoebe is my betrothed. I do hope you
understand.”

Another surprise. William nodded his understanding.
“As much as I do not like the idea of you handling this yourself, I
confess, I understand completely. My congratulations on your
engagement. I hope you’ll excuse my saying, you are a very lucky
man.”