Viridis - A Steampunk Romance (33 page)

Alone in the room with nothing but his anger,
William searched for any evidence that may explain what happened
here.

It was clear the door had not been forced open. The
room showed some signs of a struggle—a broken vase, a plush chair
shoved at an odd angle, but this could easily have happened as the
doctors or Gavin rushed to Gabriel’s side.

The room was large and open, as the entry flowed
into a sitting room, then to an office at the far end and a dining
area to the right. The fireplace was located by the cluster of
furnishings designed as the sitting room. Two glasses sat on the
end tables. It appeared Gabriel may have been entertaining company
at the time of the attack, or his guest was the attacker. Either
way, William would love to know who that person was.

The desk was littered with ledgers and work from
Viridis. As he shuffled through the paperwork, an unfinished work
order for spirits caught his eye. William examined it closely, a
surge of excitement now bolting through him. He couldn’t be sure,
but thought the handwriting looked familiar. He folded the piece of
paper and tucked it away in a pocket.

William turned just as Gavin entered the room.
“They’ve taken him to Lord Grey’s home where they’ll tend to him. I
dinna like leaving him alone, but I must tell Phoebe what’s
happened.” Gavin ran a hand through his dark curls making him look
a bit like a bear just awoken from its winter hibernation.

“Actually, that’s the reason I’ve come. I believe
Lady Hughes may be missing.”

Chapter Sixty One

Phoebe had lost all sense of time, for it seemed her
hell was destined to go on for an eternity. She did what was
required of her but gave it no thought, just closed her eyes and
blocked out as much as she could, retreating within herself.
Indeed, it was as if she were not even within her own body, but
instead floating away on a sea of darkness, her exhaustion allowing
her some semblance of oblivion.

She was lying on her front, relieved that she did
not need to look at Victor as he continued his torments, his
imagination for indignity and pain knowing no bounds. Some distant
part of her brain registered a commotion and then Victor was pulled
away from her. There were shouts and the bed shook violently, but
she did not have the will to even look over her shoulder.

“Phoebe.
Phoebe!
”

Through a haze, she heard the familiar voice, saw
the familiar face, but could not reach out to him, the distance
between them too great, even though he was just a breath away.
Unable to muster the strength needed, she closed her eyes, and let
herself drift back into the darkness.

Chapter Sixty Two

“Phoebe!” Gavin’s heart shattered to see her in such
a state, her body battered and abused, covered in bruises and
welts.

His anger left him in a blinding rage, his heart
thundering with his need for destruction. In a fury, he punched
Victor again and again and again, until he lay there barely
conscious. The only thing stopping him from murdering the bastard
was that he needed to get Phoebe away from this hell, and William
was just downstairs. His revenge would have to wait.

“I’ve got ye, love. Ye’re safe now.” He could not
keep the tremor from his voice. He wrapped her in a blanket, picked
her up, and carried her down the stairs, leaving Victor lying there
on the floor in a bloody heap.

“I’m taking her home.” Gavin did not wait for
William to answer him, and without another word, he carried Phoebe
into the dark of night and to the waiting coach.

He did not need to see her face to know she was
crying and each tear that fell was like a knife in his heart. He
had failed her. Failed Seth.

They should have killed Victor when they had the
chance, dumped him in the Thames with no one the wiser.

Phoebe clung to him, wrapped in nothing but the
blanket. Pulling his kilt off his shoulder, he wrapped it around to
try and keep her warm in the drafty carriage. He said nothing while
they made their way home, just murmured into her hair sounds of
reassurance, rocking her back and forth to try and soothe her.

Once home, he sat her by the stoked fire in her room
and ran her a hot bath. Kneeling before her, he said, “Phoebe,
love. Please. It’ll do ye good to have yourself a long soak.” He
held a glass out to her. “Here, drink this first. It’ll help.”

But she did not drink, did not speak, did not move.
She just stared straight ahead, her limp curls hanging in her face.
Gavin pressed the glass to her lips and helped her drink, knowing
it would help to warm her. It was enough to get her started. Slowly
she brought the glass to her lips once more, taking small sips of
the whisky and the drop of laudanum he’d added to help her
sleep.

He fetched her a clean nightgown and a thick towel
and then left her to have a soak in the tub. Back in her bedroom,
he poured himself a whisky, drank it, and then poured himself
another, finally sitting in front of the fire to wait for her,
unable to shake himself free of his thoughts.

He stood when she walked into the room. She looked
so frail and broken, and her voice sounded hollow as she spoke.
“Thank you.”

He immediately knew what she was thanking him for
and it was not the bath. “Och, love…” He crossed the room in two
strides, pulled her into his arms and held her tight. “Phoebe…”

Safe in his arms, she let the tears flow.

Chapter Sixty Three

Seth was surprised to find he had managed to drift
off to sleep, and even more surprised to find William unlocking his
cell door. He had lost track of time, but thought it couldn’t be
much past four in the morning.

“Inspector.” Seth sat up on the hard bunk, and swung
his legs down to the ground.

“You are free to go, Mr. Elliott. Lord Fenwick has
dropped the charges.” William stepped to the side so as not to
obstruct the cell door, his face haggard and drawn.

Seth’s stomach sank. “Is something wrong? What’s
happened, Inspector?”

“It is best if you go home,” was the Inspector’s
only reply.

Without saying a word, Seth threw on his jacket,
took his things, and made his way out of the cell under William’s
weary gaze.

“Godspeed, Mr. Elliot.”

***

Samuel answered the door, his face grim until he
realized it was Seth. His face then turned to one of panic and
shame, and he spoke so rapidly, the words poured out in a jumble,
none of them making sense. Seth pushed past him and took the stairs
at a run, to Phoebe’s room. There was only one reason Victor
Fenwick would ever drop the charges against him, and the thought of
it filled him with rage.

Gavin met him at the top of the stairs, and the look
on his friend’s face confirmed his worst fears.

Seth reached for the handle, but Gavin moved between
him and the door, placing a hand on his shoulder. “
Mo
charaid
, she’s had a rough night of it and only managed to fall
asleep some little time ago.”

Seth’s emotions warred with themselves— anger,
frustration, fear and despair, all in a tumult. “I need to see her,
Gavin, and I’ll not have ye stopping me.”

Gavin nodded in acknowledgment.

Seth started to go, but Gavin stopped him again. “Is
there something else?” He couldn’t keep the anger out of his
voice.

“Aye, there is. ‘Tis Gabriel. I found him at his
apartment, shot through the shoulder with a fuse gun. He’s lost a
lot of blood, but he’s being looked after at a physicians. Phoebe
doesna ken. Now that ye’re here, perhaps I’ll go and see how the
lad is doing.”

Seth was shocked by the news. It seemed as though
his world had gone crumbling down around him in just the few hours
he’d been gone. Distraught with the enormity of all that happened,
he said, “It’d be greatly appreciated if you could check on him,
mo charaid
. I thank ye for all you’ve done.”

Gavin let his hand fall from Seth’s shoulder and
stepped aside to let him pass.

Chapter Sixty Four

William sat in his office, shaken by everything he’d
seen that night. He poured himself a drink and pulled out the piece
of paper he’d taken from Gabriel’s desk. He unfolded it and
smoothed it out. He then went into the locked cabinet where he kept
the evidence from the cases he was still working on, and found the
wooden box which contained the evidence to Niles’s murder.

He took from the box the love letters, still wrapped
with the red silk ribbon. Sitting down at his desk, he carefully
unsheathed one of the letters, and laid it next to the work
order.

He glanced from the one paper to the other, scrubbed
a hand over his face, and looked again. Damned if the writing was
not the same.

Chapter Sixty Five

Phoebe stirred, unable to escape the nightmares that
plagued her. The laudanum kept her trapped in a restless sleep,
forcing her to relive every moment with Victor, every touch.

Through the fog in her head, she heard a familiar
voice call her name, felt hands shaking her, demanding she wake.
She opened her eyes and found herself looking into Seth’s worried
face. She then looked away, unable to face him after what she had
done.

“You’re back.” Her throat was dry, the words
catching in her throat.

“Aye, I’m here, love. It was just another dream.” He
pulled her into his arms and held her to him. “It’ll be all right.”
He tilted her head back and kissed her softly, sweetly, but try as
she might, she could not help but pull away.

She felt him tense, but he said nothing, only laid
her back down onto her pillow, taking care to cover her with the
blanket.

“Sleep,
a ghaoil
. The rest will do you
good.”

She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open, and
slipped back into her world of nightmares, not sure her reality was
any better.

Chapter Sixty Six

Seth had been sitting alone by the fire in the
drawing room, trying, without luck, to get himself drunk. When
Phoebe had refused to look at him, to let him kiss her, his worst
suspicions were confirmed.

She should have let him hang for his crime, for
surely it would have been more merciful than having to suffer
through this hell. He felt empty, numb. No matter how hard he tried
to block it all out, he could not help but envision Victor touching
her, and the thought made him sick.

Gavin returned only a short time later, accompanied
by the doctor and a still-unconscious Gabriel. The doctor had done
all he could, and thought it would be best if he were around
friends and family. Whether this was a good sign or bad, Seth was
not willing to venture a guess. They got Gabriel settled in his
room, two doors down from Phoebe���s, and left Martha to care for him
until they could find him a nurse.

Back in the sitting room, Seth paced the room. “If
Gabriel does not recover, this will kill her.”

Gavin ran a hand down his face. “How was she when ye
saw her?”

Anger finally burst through Seth’s numbness. “How do
ye think she was, man?” He shook his head with disbelief, the
images supplied by his imagination, flooding his head. “What the
hell happened?
”

Gavin motioned to a chair with a tilt of his chin.
“Sit yerself down I’ll tell ye what I ken, for I’m not sure of all
that happened, and quite frankly, I dinna think I could handle
knowing.” They settled in the chairs before the fire.

“I can guess
what
happened, aye?” Seth said
through gritted teeth. “I just want to know how.”

Gavin gave him a pleading look. “Do ye think I dinna
blame myself for what happened to her? Do ye really think that I’m
not torn up about it? Well, I am, and if there were anything I
could do to change what’s happened, I’d do it. As is I’m going to
murder the bastard.” Gavin’s face flushed red with rage, his hands
curled into fists, though it was his eyes that betrayed his
pain.

Gavin hung his head low as he told Seth what
happened, ending with how he found her at Victor’s. “I understand
if ye blame me, for I ken I blame myself.”

Seth felt defeated. He wanted to blame Gavin, or
Samuel, or even Phoebe, but in the end the only person he could
truly blame was himself. “I do not blame ye,
mo charaid
, and
ye should not blame yourself either, for if it were not for you, it
could have been much worse, aye?”

“Listen, I know how it looks for me to be saying
this to ye, and I know ‘tis not really necessary, but I feel I
must.” Gavin gave his head a shake, cursing under his breath. “You
werena there to see her, aye? Even I have no idea what she was
forced to endure, but I can tell ye that whatever it was, it pushed
her far enough into her own heid that she was barely there when I
found her.”

Seth held his friend’s gaze. “And what are ye
thinking I’ll be doing to her so soon after, aye? What do ye take
me for, Gavin?” Truth be told, taking Phoebe to bed was the last
thing on his mind, the thought of it not an easy one for him.

“’Tis not like that, and ye know it. I’m just trying
to warn ye that she’s still in a fragile state of mind. This was no
simple matter.”

Seth looked away, his heart torn. “Do ye not think I
blame myself for all she had to endure? I would rather she had let
me rot in that cell than sell herself for my freedom.”

“She’ll come around with time, aye? But she’ll need
to heal first. Just be patient with her.”

“Aye. I will.” Some of Seth’s anger at Gavin had
dissipated, only to be replaced by despair.

Gavin could not look him in the eyes when he spoke
again, his voice thick with emotion. “Before she went to sleep, she
had me fetch one of her herbal elixirs from the laboratory. At
least she willna have to worry ‘bout carrying that bastard’s
child.”