Viridis - A Steampunk Romance (25 page)

He pulled her back into his comforting embrace, and
she let him, her strength to fight him gone with her tears. She
thought of their wedding day, only a few days away. How could she
have been so close to happiness, only to have it torn from her
grasp? And all for the stubborn pride of men. She, however, was
willing to sacrifice her pride if it meant seeing Seth free.

She would do whatever it took— even if it meant
pleading with Victor.

Chapter Thirty Eight

Seth took a deep breath and closed the door behind
him, pausing for just a moment to compose himself. It was not fear
of what may happen to his own person, but rather all he would be
putting Phoebe through and what may happen in his absence.

He walked down the steps, taking his time with each
one, reluctant to leave Phoebe in such a state. Inspector Thomas
stood by the front door looking grim, a stern-faced constable at
his side. Samuel stood by, looking like he was contemplating
murder. Whether the inspector’s or his own, he could not say.

“Inspector.”

“I’m sorry to have to come, especially here, but I’m
afraid it’s necessary for now.”

Seth nodded in acknowledgment as he shrugged into
his coat, no words needed. There would be plenty to discuss soon
enough. Before he walked out the door, he turned to Samuel. “I’m
counting on you to keep a close eye on things here. I’ll be back as
soon as I’m able. She’s safe for now with Gavin here, so I’ll need
you to contact my solicitor, a Mr. John Campbell of Bishop Street.
Send him to the police station.”

“The station is on Mission Street,” William added
helpfully.

“Aye, sir.” Samuel pulled himself up straight and
tall, bearing his responsibilities with pride and a seriousness
that let Seth know he’d do all he could to not fail him.

Their trip to the police station was one of relative
silence. The sun was just setting on the horizon, the night air
bringing a bitter chill. He dreaded spending the night in a cold
dark cell, but knew, even as the thought crossed his mind, he would
likely be doing just that.

They walked into a sparse office with hard-backed
chairs and a sturdy wood table. William dismissed the constable and
then turned to Seth. “Please, sit. I’m sorry to say, I’m here to
charge you formally with the attempted murder of Lord Victor
Fenwick. I highly recommend you seek the council of a solicitor,
before saying anything. Shall we wait for his arrival?”

With a sigh, Seth said, “Aye, we might as well.” He
ran his hands through his hair in frustration. With luck, he may be
able to get himself out on his own recognizance, and back to
Phoebe. At least she was safe in Gavin’s hands, though the thought
wasn’t terribly comforting, especially when he thought of the silk
robe she’d been wearing and how she felt under the thin, cool
fabric.

While waiting for his solicitor, William had him
sign the necessary documents, and then covered the basic
information and procedures of his arrest. It was not long before
the constable opened the door to admit his solicitor, Mr. John
Campbell.

“Inspector.” John shook William’s hand, and then
gave Seth’s a hearty shake before taking a seat at Seth’s side.
Listening to the charges being brought against his client, he
jotted down notes in his book.

Seth had not seen him since just before his
departure to the Outlands, when he’d had his will drawn up. Seth
had also used the man for passing the patents on his tinkerings and
any other legal matters that should arise. A more cunning man he
could not recall; he only hoped the old man was up to handling the
charges of murder. With a silent prayer to the gods, he hoped
‘cunning’ would be enough to get him back to Phoebe’s arms rather
than those of the executioner.

***

It was nearing two in the morning, and still they
sat gathered around the small table, the hard wooden chair cutting
into the back of Seth’s legs. He was exhausted, but it looked like
they were finally making progress.

John consulted his notes, then looked up at William.
“You have no other witnesses, am I correct?”

“No.” William’s mouth twitched with what Seth
thought was humor. “It appears the coachman present at the time of
the incident cannot remember enough to identify the persons
involved. Only that there were two of them, both male.”

“So you have no witnesses other than Lord Fenwick
himself, who was courting and refused by my client’s fiancé. Do you
not think it possible, under the circumstances, that these charges
have been inflated in order to seek revenge for being
rejected?”

William sighed and then leaned forward, elbows on
the table. “Look, we all know that’s the case of the matter,
especially considering his mishandling of Lady Hughes, but your
client does not deny assaulting the man.”

John’s gaze flicked to Seth, and it was clear he was
not happy. “Despite his actions, it is obvious that this is a
simple case of assault to defend the honor of his betrothed.”

William nodded. “With luck, the judge will feel the
same way regarding the matter. Unfortunately, there is nothing to
be done until the case is seen in the morning. I wish there were
something I could do, but unfortunately Chief Inspector Murdock
issued the order of arrest, so I do not have the authority to
release you. It looks as though you’ll be spending the night
here.”

John glanced at Seth and gave him a rueful shrug.
“I’ll be here first thing in the morning to see your case before
the judge. Until then, try and do your best to get some rest.”

Seth nodded, knowing things could be far worse.

To William, John added, “I hope you’ll take good
care of my client. I’d hate to find him mistreated in any way.”

“No, of course not, Mr. Campbell.” William stood and
got ready to take Seth to his cell. “Are you ready?”

Seth managed a smile and said, “Ready as I’ll ever
be.”

Chapter Thirty Nine

Phoebe must have cried herself to sleep, for when
she awoke, it was to find herself tucked under the covers of her
bed. Gavin slept at her bedside, slumped in a chair with his legs
propped on her mattress, his plaid doubling as a blanket.

She slid out from under the covers trying to make as
little noise as possible. The fire had died down, but enough light
remained, allowing her to find her way. Getting into a dress would
be far too difficult to do alone, and she did not trust herself to
manage it without making any noise. Instead, with her back to
Gavin’s slumbering form, she pulled on her riding breeches and a
cotton blouse, fumbling with the buttons in the semi-darkness.

“What are ye doing, Phoebe?” She nearly jumped out
of her skin, at the sound of Gavin’s voice.

Holding her shirt closed, she spun around and nearly
bumped into him. Cursing she said, “Dammit, Gavin, you just scared
the life out of me. Why are you sneaking up on me like that?”

His eyes narrowed, pinning her to her spot, but she
saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Sneaking up on ye, am I? Seems
I’m not the only one doing some sneaking, aye?” He reached out and
flicked the collar of her shirt to make his point. “What are ye up
to, lass?”

She glanced down at her shirt, which was far too
sheer without a corset underneath. With all that had happened
between them, she felt too naked and vulnerable standing before him
barely decent, but she’d be damned if she was going to let Gavin
know that. She drew herself up, clutching her shirt together, and
thrusting her chin out. “Nothing that’s any of your concern.”

“Not my concern, is it?” His lips curled into a
disconcerting smile, and she took an involuntary step back only to
find herself against the wall. “Do ye think I dinna ken what ye’re
up to?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” She tried
to get the buttons on her shirt done up in an attempt to cover
herself, but Gavin’s eyes flicked down to the expanse of exposed
skin, and she felt herself flush crimson.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Her own voice sounded distant
and breathless. She tried to step around him, the door only feet
away, but Gavin grabbed her arm and held on tight, preventing her
from going anywhere.

“Listen to me, love. Seth has left ye in my care and
if ye think I’m going to let ye out of my sight, ye’ve gone soft in
the heid.”

Phoebe needed to get out, needed to help Seth, but
Gavin had a steel grip on her arm. It was clear that reasoning with
him would be an attempt at futility, but she did not think violence
upon his body would have much effect either. Phoebe’s mind raced
through the possibilities. There was no time to lose.

Drawing on the emotions she’d been trying so hard to
keep in check since Seth’s departure, she looked up at him, letting
her eyes well with tears and her lips wobble.

She saw his look soften. “Och now love, it’ll be all
right. Don’t be worrying yerself like this.” He pulled her close,
and held her there against him. She allowed the tears to flow for a
few moments, until he softened his grip on her.

“I’m sorry.” She lifted her head off his chest and
wiped at her tears, sniffling. “I’m just so worried, Gavin. What
will happen to him?”

“He’ll be back to ye before ye ken, aye?” He tilted
her head back so she could look him in the eyes.

“How can you know that? If Victor truly wants him
tried for murder, he has enough influence to do just that. Do you
know what the punishment for attempted murder is? And Victor a
Lord, no less?” She shook her head, fighting another wave of tears,
and said, “I need a drink. Gavin, would you?” She gestured to the
bottle on the table by the fireplace.

“Of course.”

She waited until he was in the middle of pouring her
a whisky, and then bolted for the door. She fumbled with the
handle, yanking with all her might, her panic growing with each
passing moment, but the door would not budge. And then it hit her.
She spun to find Gavin standing across the room, his arms crossed
over his chest and a grim look on his face
.

“You locked the door?” She could scream. She
probably did. But it was all too much for her. She slumped to the
floor in pieces, the tears streaming down her face in earnest.

Her only hope of saving Seth was to talk some sense
into Victor, to try and get him to drop the charges. Surely, he’d
see reason if she explained matters to him, but it would never
happen with Gavin watching her every move.

Gavin squatted before her. “Phoebe, love. We’ll see
him safe in no time. Come, stop yer tears.” He reached out to her,
but she swatted his hand away.

“Leave me be, Gavin.” Why wouldn’t he just go
away?

“Och lass, ye’ll catch yer death laying there on the
cold floor. And then what will I tell yer man when they let him
free?” Ignoring her protests, he threw a blanket over her
shoulders. “Come now, love. We wouldna want to let that whisky go
to waste, aye?” He held out his hand waiting patiently for her to
take it.

Swiping at her tears, she glared at him for the
longest time, but he just stood there waiting. Seeing no other
option, and hoping a drink might help, she finally took his hand
and let him pull her to her feet and into his arms, where a fresh
wave of tears fell. Gavin sat them down in the chaise by the fire
with her head resting on his shoulder, his hand stroking her back
to try to sooth and calm her down.

Reaching over to the side table, he grabbed the
abandoned glass of whisky. “Here, love. A drink will help,
aye?”

She nodded, swiping at her tears with the sleeve of
her shirt. She took the offered glass and polished off half the
whisky in one go.

“Easy there, lass. Keep up at the rate yer going and
ye’ll be stinking drunk.”

Before he could snag the glass from her, she
polished off the remainder of her drink. “I think that’s the
point.” Perhaps if she were oblivious, if she could push Seth from
her thoughts, then it wouldn’t hurt so much. A familiar herbal
taste lingered on her tongue. “Is there Viridis in the whisky?” She
already knew the answer, just hadn’t been expecting it to be
there.

“Aye, there is. I know the herbal has a calming
effect, and thought ye could do with some help. A bite to eat and a
bit of rest wouldn’t go amiss either, eh? Ye havena had any dinner
yet, and things never look good on an empty stomach. Let me have a
bit of something brought up for ye.”

She lifted her head off his shoulder and shook her
head no. “I couldn’t, Gavin.” Her curls came loose, dislodged from
their pins in her struggles. “Not right now. I think I’d be ill if
I tried to eat anything.”

He wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb, his
eyes intent on hers. She had to look away, his gaze too intense. He
cleared his throat, and then said, “All right then, love. Perhaps
some rest?”

She let him ease her head back onto his shoulder,
the warmth of him comforting, as were the soft-spoken words of
Gaelic. She had not the slightest idea of what he spoke, but her
tears eased as he rubbed her back, the rhythmic motion lulling her
into a calm.

She did not know how long she stayed curled against
his side, but at some point she became aware of something more.

Perhaps it was the Viridis or just the closeness of
their bodies, but her skin prickled, sensitive to every touch, and
by all accounts, she wasn’t the only one to sense the change
between them. His touch slowed, and she could now feel a tension in
his body, each breath deeper, slower. She glanced up at him, only
to find him looking back at her, his eyes soft with emotion and
need, her own heart racing at the nearness of him.

After all that had recently occurred between them,
the last place she should be seeking comfort was in Gavin’s arms.
It could not be easy on him and it wasn’t right. She sat up,
feeling guilty. “I think it’s best I get to bed,” she said,
avoiding his gaze
.