Viridis - A Steampunk Romance (26 page)

“Aye. ‘Tis late and ye’ve been through a lot. Sleep
will help, and Seth will be back to ye before ye ken.”

Phoebe settled into her bed, and he took a seat on
the side of the mattress, covering her with the heavy wool
blanket.

She sat up, holding the covers to her chest, once
again aware of her unbuttoned shirt. “Gavin…” she took a deep
breath. She wanted to apologize for using her tears to manipulate
him. “I’m sorry about earlier. It was not terribly nice of me.”

He brushed the back of his hand down her cheek.
“Och, lass, I cannot really blame ye. And I hope you’ll find it in
ye to forgive me for locking the door.” He smiled at her and she
couldn’t help but manage a small smile back.

“You’re a sneaky bastard, I’ll give you that.”
Phoebe was once again all too conscious of the energy between them.
“Will you sleep in the spare bedroom? It should already be made
up.”

“No, love. I’ll be right here for ye.” He got up,
kissed the top of her head, and then sat back in the chair by her
bed, his long legs once again propped up on the edge of her
mattress, arms crossed over his chest. “I trust ye’ll not be trying
to escape out the window, aye?”

“No. Probably not.”

Chapter Forty

The judge was scheduled to hear Seth’s case at ten
that morning, giving William only a few hours to speak to Victor.
He’d already been to Archer Enterprises and was indeed able to
confirm Victor had written two cheques, each for a thousand pound
Sterling. It was a risky move to confront a man as volatile and
powerful as Victor, but he’d be damned if he would ignore the
evidence.

The footman begrudgingly showed him to the sitting
room to wait. Victor strode into the room mere moments later,
looking like all was right in the world.

“Inspector. A good morning to you.” Victor motioned
him into a seat before sending his footman off for tea.

“And to you. A good morning indeed,” William said,
settling into his chair. “Tell me, Lord Fenwick, are you at all
familiar with Lord Niles Hawthorne?”

“Yes, of course. Horrible tragedy, and for one so
young. However, I do not see what this has to do with me.”

William said nothing for a moment, letting the
silence eat away at Victor’s defenses. It was clearly working— the
muscles in Victor’s jaw pulsed while his fingers tapped on his leg.
The man was obviously hiding something. William just needed to find
what he was guilty of. “What was your relationship to Lord Niles
Hawthorne?”

Victor, who had seated himself directly across from
William, blanched visibly. “What— what do you mean? I had no
relationship with the man. He was just an acquaintance.”

William did not think a man could turn such a
brilliant shade of crimson, and though William hated to admit it,
it satisfied him deeply. “Same gentlemen’s club, I believe.
Browning’s? Did you have any business with the man?”

“Did I not just tell you? I only knew him in
passing. Nothing more. Why are you harassing me? Do you not have
criminals to catch?”

William could not help but smile just a little.
“That is exactly what I’m doing, sir. I’m tracking leads on a
murder and a theft.” He continued before Victor could protest. “Do
you mind telling me why you would give someone that is no more than
an acquaintance two thousand pounds?”

Victor crossed his leg over his knee, trying to look
at ease, though his face, now the color of sour milk, betrayed him.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea as to what you are talking about, and
quite frankly I’m insulted by your line of questioning. I think you
should leave.”

“And I think you should answer my question. Lord or
not, I have every right as an officer of the law to question you if
the evidence points in your direction. I would hate to
inconvenience you by bringing you down to the station, but I’ll do
just that if you do not cooperate.”

“How does my giving Lord Hawthorne two thousand
pounds make me guilty of anything? Perhaps it was he who was guilty
of extortion.”

“Extortion?” William tilted his head in
acknowledgement. “It would be a good motive for murder, would it
not?”

William had the pleasure of watching Victor choke
and stammer, his face going an ungodly shade of plum as he spat,
“How dare you accuse me of murder! I’ll be speaking to your
superiors about this.”

William waved away the threat, leaning forward in
his chair. “Let me explain a few things to you, your Lordship. I
have evidence of Lord Niles Hawthorne receiving two thousand pound
sterling in the form of two cheques, written upon your personal
request, according to your accountant. I also have evidence that
Lord Hawthorne came to have in his possession the formula for
Viridis, stolen from Lady Hughes. Take into account that you’ve
been aggressively courting her, and I do believe even my superiors
may be loathe to overlook the facts.”

Victor blinked repeatedly, his mouth opening and
closing like a trout. However, William did not give him the chance
to find his voice, continuing with his last piece of business, and
the one that gave him the most satisfaction.

“I am also here to formally charge you with the
assault of Lady Phoebe Hughes.”

Chapter Forty One

“Wake up, love. ‘Tis just a dream.”

Phoebe awoke with a start, Gavin at her side, gently
shaking her to pull her out of her nightmare. Her eyes filled with
tears, her words but a whisper. “The cell— it was horrible.” She
could not tell him of the terrible cold and damp, chilling one to
the bone. Nor could she bring herself to mention the suffocating
fear that threatened to consume her, the gallows right outside the
cell window.

“Well get him home, aye? Come here, love. You’re
shaking like a leaf.” He reached out and touched her, a curse on
his lips as his hand went to her forehead. “Och, lass, ye’re
burning up.”

“I feel so cold.” She pulled the blanket around her
but it still was not enough. With the miserably cold weather they’d
been having, along with the stresses of the last few days, it was
no surprise she had fallen ill.

“Let me get the fire going.” Though he was already
moving away from her, she could hear him cursing under his breath
in Gaelic, a sure sign he was upset and worried.

She sat there with her teeth chattering, while he
tossed a few logs on the embers, and got the flames flaring up in
no time at all. He then went to the door, unlocked it, and summoned
Martha, who peeked into the room with a mix of concern and scandal,
her eyes darting between Phoebe and Gavin.

Gavin instructed her to fetch some tea and
breakfast, and anything else she might have handy for a fever, then
closed the door firmly on her prying eyes. Without a word, he
crossed to the bed, wrapped Phoebe in a second blanket and scooped
her up.

“Gavin! Put me down. I’m fully capable of
walking.
”

He actually blushed, but continued to carry her to
the chaise by the fireplace, still holding her in his arms as he
sat them down side by side, Phoebe tucked up against him. “Well I
wouldn’t want ye twisting yer ankle on top of catching yer death,
aye? As is, Seth’s going to have my hide for letting ye get
chilled.”

With teeth chattering, she managed, “Yes. It’s all
your fault, isn’t it?”

“Och, love…” He looked at her pained, as if she were
speaking about more than just her chill.

She managed a laugh. “Please don’t look so serious.
I was only teasing you.”

“Hmpf. Well, I don’t reckon sitting ye in front of a
fire when ye’re so feverish is the right thing to do, but I’ll be
damned if I ken what else to do with ye.” He ran his hands up and
down her back trying to warm her.

A quick knock, and the door opened to admit Martha
pushing a teacart laden with goods. She couldn’t help but notice
Martha’s eyes dart uneasily between herself and Gavin, what with
him sitting on the chaise right next to her. She could only imagine
what must be going through her head, as if her unorthodox relations
with Seth hadn’t been enough.

“Are ye unwell, Mum?”

“A little. I’m sure it’ll pass.” Phoebe managed a
smile. “We can serve ourselves, Martha. Thank you for bringing it
up.”

“Shall I call y’ a physician? You shouldn’t let
things like this go without being seen to. Ye don’t want the chill
getting into yer bones. Brought ye up what I could find in the
medicine chest labeled for fever.”

“I don’t think a physician is necessary just yet.
I’ll give the herbals a try first. Thank you.”

Martha gave a quick nod, and let herself out.

Phoebe went to get up, but Gavin stopped her. “I’ll
get the tea and the herbals. Ye’re to stay put.”

“I hope the herbal is strong enough to shake this
chill. I need to go to the police station to try and get them to
release Seth.” With her nightmare still fresh on her mind, she was
worried and fearing the worst.

Gavin poured the tea, his voice strained as he tried
to keep it calm. “My love, the fever has truly gone to yer head and
rendered ye delirious, if ye think I’m letting ye leave the house
whilst ill. I’ll send the wee laddie to find out what’s happening,
and if need be, I’ll go myself, but you, my dear, are going
nowhere.”

Phoebe glared at him. The thought of being trapped
in her room unable to help Seth had her cheeks flushed-- and not
from fever alone. “Gavin MacKay, I swear to you, I’ll cut your
heart out if you don’t let me out of here. You have no say over
what I choose to do and no hold on me.”

He spun and closed the distance between them in two
steps, his anger flaring. “Let me make myself clear, lassie. Yer
betrothed has left ye in my care, and if that means I need to tie
to ye to yer bed to make sure ye come to no harm, ‘tis exactly what
I’ll do, aye?”

“
Aye!”

Chapter Forty Two

Seth sat on the edge of his seat as the coach
approached Phoebe’s home, Samuel sitting at his side. Just that
morning, William had gone before the judge and explained the lack
of evidence for the charge of attempted murder on Lord Victor
Fenwick, also explaining that Lady Phoebe Hughes had filed a formal
charge of assault against Lord Fenwick. William had then asked to
speak to the judge in private.

Seth wasn’t sure what had transpired behind closed
doors, but the judge was not looking terribly happy after the
discussion. When Seth’s lawyer then explained that Seth only acted
in retaliation for what was done to his betrothed, the judge seemed
willing enough to release Seth on his own recognizance, though not
willing to drop the charges quite yet.

“You said she’s not well?” Seth opened the door and
let Samuel get out.

“Aye, sir. A bit of a fever. She’d have come to the
station herself if it weren’t for that.”

Seth paid the coachman, let himself into Phoebe’s
home and took the stairs to her room, two at a time. Only to find
the door locked.

“Phoebe?” He knocked and tried the handle again,
when he heard the bolt turn over and the door opened.

“Ye’re back? That’s great news,
mo charaid
.”
Gavin pulled him into a hearty embrace and then stepped aside to
let him in.

Seth couldn’t help but wonder why Gavin and Phoebe
had the door locked, but when he saw Phoebe lying there in bed, all
suspicious thoughts fled his mind.

“Seth!” Phoebe sat up and he took her in his arms,
holding her tight, her arms wrapped around his neck. “I was so
worried you wouldn’t ever come back. I would have been there this
morning if it hadn’t been for…” her gaze flicked to Gavin, before
continuing, “falling ill.”

“No worries, my love. They didn’t have enough to
hold me, and I was barely gone the night.” He kissed her lips, but
they were dry and cracked, blazing hot. “Och, love. You’re burning
up.” He pressed his hand to her forehead.

“It’s just a bit of a chill. Not terribly surprising
when you consider how cold it has been.” Phoebe smiled at him, but
it was clear she was far from well. She laid back onto her pillow,
the blanket falling away from her chest to reveal a diaphanous
shirt unbuttoned far past decency, little left to one’s imagination
through the thin cloth.

Seth felt himself flush with anger. All too aware of
Gavin standing just behind him, he picked up the blanket and
covered her. “Let me get you a cup of tea, aye?” He looked over his
shoulder at his friend, and made the conscious effort to unclench
his jaw before speaking. “Gavin, would you give me a hand?”

Gavin’s face was grim. “Of course.”

Seth found Sarah and asked her to get some tea for
Phoebe, then continued on to the sitting room with Gavin, making
sure to close the door behind them. The tension in the air was
palpable, but Seth forced himself to not leap to conclusions. Seth
poured them each a whisky and they sat before the fire.

Gavin broke the silence. “’Tis not what ye’re
thinking.”

“And what would I be thinking, dear friend?” Seth
was exhausted. He’d barely slept a wink, the damp cold of the cell
making sleep impossible. Coming home to Phoebe— it had been his
only thought the whole night through. But this was not what he’d
been expecting.

“I know how it looks, aye? Truth of the matter is I
had not wanted to let her out of my sight. She’d been terribly
upset about ye getting hauled in, and eventually she did sleep, but
with all that had happened, I was scared she’d try and speak to
Victor about dropping the charges.” Gavin paused to take a drink.
“I spent the night sleeping in the chair by her bedside, but took
the precaution of locking the door. And a good thing too. Caught
her in the process of getting dressed, which would be why she
weren’t exactly decent like. And well, with things transpiring the
way they did, I’m afraid she never finished getting dressed
properly.”