Viridis - A Steampunk Romance

by Calista Taylor

  Turning the paper over, he spotted some scrawled writing. Yesterday’s date and a time were scrawled in the upper corner. An assignation perhaps? He set the paper aside, so as not to forget it and then continued his search. The rest of the library and the sitting room turned up nothing of interest, however in the bedroom, he did find a fuse gun, a portable information module and a significant amount of monetary funds. Despite Lord Hawthorne coming from a wealthy family, it was still unusual to have such a large sum of monies lying around.

  Also nothing in the life of an ordinary solicitor would warrant the use of a fuse gun, though they were becoming more common. This one was far more elaborate in design than most. The black metal was heavy and cold, molded to fit perfectly into the palm of one’s hand. Not too unlike a traditional pistol, the body of the fuse gun differed in that it was made by a series of decreasing spheres designed to accommodate the charger, but instead of using normal metal slugs as bullets, the fuse gun fired a sphere of compressed energy.

  Most telling, however, was the portable information module, its brass case etched beautifully, as the polished surface gleamed in the light. Quite the rare tinkering, William had only ever seen them in the hands of the elite Special Services branch of the government. To possess such a tinkering meant there was a good chance Lord Hawthorne worked for them, likely gathering information, though to what purpose, William did not know.

  And with that, the case quickly turned from one of murder to something far more complicated and dangerous.

  Chapter Six

  Phoebe spent the entire afternoon in her laboratory waiting for the distillation to run through its cycle with nothing but the constant chattering of her thoughts making her second-guess her every action. It had been a mistake to let Seth back into her life, and she cursed herself for being stupid enough to not learn from her past mistakes. By late afternoon, she was wound tight as a spring. She needed to get out of the house; needed to clear her head.

  In another couple of hours, she would be expected at Viridis, but for now, she had other business to tend to. She took a hired coach as far as the driver was willing to go before the roads narrowed and deteriorated and he was no longer willing to risk his carriage or horses. From there Phoebe continued on foot, moving easily through the crumbling streets. She was used to the routine by now, for she made this trip at least once a week.

  Avoiding the puddles of swampy refuse, Phoebe wound her way down the narrow alleys, the houses piled one against the other and probably the only thing holding them upright. A fire in one home could burn down an entire section of London in no time at all, leveling the area to nothing more than ash, killing hundreds in one go and leaving the rest homeless.

  One last turn down a narrow alley, and Phoebe steered herself towards the large wooden structure she had recently purchased. Though she would have preferred a building made of brick, it had previously been a warehouse and was sound and sturdy, offering Phoebe plenty of space to work with. It had not cost her very much, Cripplegate being one of London’s poorest areas, and the exact reason she had bought in the neighborhood.

  She paused at the top of the steps to look at the brass plaque mounted next to the door. Genie’s House. She had named it for Imogene—her way to pay tribute to a life cut short, by helping those in need of aid, offering everything from food and shelter to employment when it was available.

  For the Cause, she thought. It was her way of helping, taking from the rich and giving to the poor. Viridis brought her a steady income from those who had enough to indulge themselves. She found it ironic that so many of her customers had no interest in helping the needy, and yet through her, it was exactly what they were doing.

  It would be dark soon, and though she preferred to go to the shelter early in the day, the distillation had delayed her. She probably should have left the visit for another time, but her argument with Seth was still bothering her, and she needed affirmation that what she was doing to help the Cause was indeed making a difference.

  She wouldn’t be long; just wanted to check in with Mrs. Farthing, the dear lady she found to run the shelter. The recent cold spell would put additional strain on the shelter’s resources, and Phoebe wanted to make sure they weren’t in need of anything. She had arranged for food supplies to arrive daily, and had a doctor visit twice weekly to help with the ill and to distribute the appropriate medicines. The house staff were even teaching the young, and anyone else willing, to read and write, and basic shelter was available to those who needed it on a cold winter’s night.

  Yet, it was nowhere near enough, just a drop in an ocean of suffering. But she had plans. Plans she hoped would help the Cause and aid in making the poor self-sufficient. Reading, writing, and meeting their basic needs were just the start. She had hired most of the employees who worked at Viridis from the shelter. By offering them an opportunity they might not have otherwise, she received loyal employees in return.

  The wind picked up, whipping its way down the alley as she knocked on the back door. The walk had chilled her to the bone, and she would be grateful for a seat by the fire and a cup of tea to warm her.

  She waited but a moment and then a young woman of about twenty answered the door. Her hair was the color of spun gold, and pulled back from her freshly scrubbed face. She wiped her floury hands against the apron tied around her waist.

  “May I ‘elp ye?” Recognition suddenly dawned in her glacier-blue eyes. “Mum? What ye doing ‘ere out in the cold? Come in ‘fore ye catch yer death.” Pulling Phoebe into the warmth, she steered her towards the fire in the bustling kitchen.

  “Thank you, Anne.” Phoebe had only met her once before, but she made it a priority to be on a first-name basis with as many of the inhabitants of the house as possible.

  “I’ll just get ye a cuppa. Help warm ye up, it will.” With a quick curtsey, she bustled off.

  Phoebe removed her gloves, and placed them in her lap. She noticed things quieted down as those working in the kitchen took note of her presence, whispering to each other and throwing curious glances her way. There was many a familiar face from her previous visits, but she was pleased to note there were others she had not met before. It was good to know they were able to employ in increasing numbers, saving them from dangerous and low paying work. Or worse.

  Anne brought her a tray with a steaming cup of tea and a plate of still warm thick sliced bread slathered with melting butter. Anne pulled up another chair and placed the tray on it so Phoebe would not have to leave the warmth of the fire.

  “There ye are, Mum. Shall I fetch Mrs. Farthing? She’ll be right pleased to see ye.”

  “I’d appreciate that. My thanks.” Phoebe held the teacup in her hands, letting the steam warm her face, before taking a sip. As she drank her tea and sampled the delicious bread, her chill faded away, and it was not long before she saw the stout form of Mrs. Farthing making its way towards her.

  Phoebe had been lucky to find such a gem of a woman in Mrs. Farthing. Kind of heart and motherly, she was also stern enough to run a tight operation. Under her guidance, the shelter was doing incredibly well after only several months in existence. In many ways, Mrs. Farthing was like the mother Phoebe missed so much, doling out love and praise with a good dose of advise and concern on the side.

  “My Lady, you should have let us know you’d be paying us a visit. And did you come all on your own?” A look of worry and consternation crossed Mrs. Farthing’s weathered face.

  Phoebe could not resist a smile at Mrs. Farthing’s maternal scoldings. “I did come alone, but really, it was fine. I wanted to make sure you were not in need of anything, what with the terrible cold spell we’ve been having.”

  Mrs. Farthing waved away her concerns. “Not at all, my Lady. As you can see, we’re kept busy, but what you’ve managed to provide is far more generous than anything we could’ve imagined. Granted, the cold has us packed full at night, but we’re managing just fine. Would you like to take a look around?”

  “I wo
uldn’t want to keep you from your work but—”

  “Och, not at all. Come.” With that Mrs. Farthing bustled Phoebe along into the shelter.

  Phoebe spent the next half hour in Mrs. Farthing’s company, as they toured the kitchens, the pantries, the schoolroom, and infirmary. The young worked amongst their elders, making sure everything that needed doing got done. With the temperatures driving most indoors, the sleeping quarters had been expanded to accommodate as many bodies as possible. Phoebe was pleased to see the new beds she had recently purchased were being put to good use, the needy already starting to arrive for the night. Throughout, there were improvements— the broken windows had been replaced, the walls were freshly whitewashed— and though the changes were small, they made a significant difference.

  Everything was running far better than she could have hoped for. Since those who took advantage of the services offered were also required to participate and help in maintaining the shelter, a sense of pride and self-respect was starting to root in their battered souls.

  At the end of the tour, Phoebe reached out and took Mrs. Farthing’s hand. “I cannot thank you enough for all your hard work— not only yours, but indeed, everyone here who has contributed. It warms my heart to see the good that is being done.”

  Mrs. Farthing gave Phoebe’s hand a squeeze, a smile gracing her weathered face. “Well, none of it could’ve been possible without your help. Now surely you’re not going to wander the streets after dark on your own?” Phoebe barely had the chance to protest when Mrs. Farthing cut her off. “At the very least, let me have Samuel escort you,” she clucked, and she sent a girl to fetch Samuel.

  Phoebe knew from experience that arguing would do nothing but cause delay, so she waited patiently by the door. She’d have Samuel take her just far enough to catch a coach to Viridis, where Gabriel would be readying everything for tonight’s shows.

  Samuel appeared, a gangly youth surprisingly tall for his years of seventeen, and gallantly held the door open for her. A wall of arctic cold hit her in the face when she stepped out onto the street, the thick layer of frost on the cobbles crunching under foot. Together, they kept a brisk pace, heads bowed down against the wind.

  Night had fallen with a moonless sky, and the only light afforded them was the dim, sooty glow of the street lamps and the occasional shop and tavern window. The walkways were still crowded with people wrapping up their day and trying to find some warmth.

  The roads started to widen, and Phoebe knew they would find a main thoroughfare soon. Her face was numb from the cold, her shoulders tight and starting to cramp with the effort of trying to keep warm. She dreaded to think of those who would spend the night exposed to the elements with no place to take shelter. It was why the Cause was so important and the reason there was revolution in the air.

  “Ye should be able to get yerself a coach just ahead. It won’t be long now.”

  “Thank you, Samuel. If you want to head back, I should be fine.” She hated him having to be out in these temperatures any longer than was necessary.

  “Nonsense. ‘Tis not a problem, and Mrs. Farthing would have my hide otherwise.” He gave Phoebe a crooked smile that lit up his eyes. She was sure more than a few of the girls at the shelter had already fallen for his charms.

  He stepped toward the curb. “This should do. I’ll just try and track ye down a ride. Shouldn’t be but a minute.”

  “Phoebe? What are you doing here?”

  She immediately recognized the voice, and quickly steeled her resolve before turning to face him. “Seth.”

  He closed the distance between them, grabbing her by the arm as though to lead her away. As she struggled to free herself from Seth’s grasp, Samuel rushed over to help her, looking ready to plant a knife between Seth’s ribs. She placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Samuel, it’s all right. He’s a friend.”

  “He may not wanna be grabbing ye like that, if that’s the case.” Samuel stood his ground, despite the fact Seth was twice as wide in the shoulders and had a generous six inches height on him.

  “I mean the lady no harm, lad.” Seth let go of her arm. “I was just worried about her being out here on her own.”

  “Well, she ain’t on her own, is she?” Samuel asked, jutting out his chin.

  “Samuel, I should be fine getting a coach here. Thank you so much for escorting me, and please be sure to let Mrs. Farthing know you delivered me safely.” Phoebe could see he didn’t want to leave, but knew he had no choice, having just been dismissed.

  “Right, then. I’ll be on my way.” He took a few steps back, throwing a final threatening glare at Seth before turning to go.

  Phoebe watched his retreating back as he ducked down the alley— only to see his face peek out from around the corner to make sure she came to no harm. But once Samuel had disappeared from view, Seth grasped her elbow once again, moving her briskly down the road.

  “I’ll ask ye again, Phoebe. What the hell are ye doing here, and after dark, no less? Are ye trying to get yerself killed?” It was a sure sign he was upset when the Scots slipped into his voice.

  He picked up the pace as he interrogated her, and she felt her temper rising exponentially with each passing second. She tried to hold her ground and wrench free of his grasp, digging her heels into the sidewalk, but it only resulted in her getting yanked into his arms, as their struggles drew more than a few glances from passersby.

  She cursed the gods for making her so small. Pounding on his shoulder to try and get herself free, she debated how wise it had been to keep Samuel from knifing him. “If you don’t let go of me, I swear I’ll scream.”

  He whirled to face her, her arm still tight in his grasp, his entire body shaking not only with anger, but worry. “Damn it, Phoebe. Is this what ye’ve been getting up to while I was gone? Trying to get yourself killed? Or worse? Ye’ve yet to tell me what ye’re doing here.”

  Though concern flooded his handsome face, darkening his normally bright eyes, she could not get past his demanding tone. For days, weeks, months, she had dreamed of him coming back to her, and yet now that he was here, his possessiveness did nothing but anger her. “I’ve yet to tell you because I don’t see how that’s any of your business— not now and certainly not while you were away. Let me remind you, I answer to no one but myself.”

  Phoebe watched his face fall under the impact of her words, and had a pang of regret. He turned away from her without a word and hailed them a coach to Viridis.

  ***

  They rode in strained silence, Phoebe’s anger warring with her heart and guilt. She wanted nothing more than to have him pull her into his arms and reassure her that they would find a way to make things work between them. Yet her pride kept her sitting stubbornly stiff at his side.

  They found Gabriel in the theatre, bantering with customers while effortlessly running the front of the house. But when Gabriel spotted Phoebe, his gregarious smile turned into a frown of concern. “Phoebe, go home. You look exhausted, and I’m managing here just fine.” Ignoring Phoebe’s protests, Gabriel turned to Seth for help. “Seth, please talk some sense into her. She’s the most stubborn woman I’ve ever come across.”

  Seth took her hand in his, knowing she could not pull away without alerting Gabriel that something was wrong between them. She knew it was an attempt to smooth things over between them. When he spoke, his voice was kind and soothing, further melting her icy resolve.

  “He’s right, my love. You were up early working on the distillation and I doubt you’ve stopped to even eat. Why don’t you give the poor lad the reins and I’ll take you out for a spot of dinner, and then home for a good night’s rest.

  The thought of a warm meal and rest had her going weak in the knees. However, having Seth take her home meant they would likely spend the night arguing or in each other’s arms.

  One of the young girls that worked at Viridis approached. “Pardon me, Mum. There’s a man here to see you. Says he’s from the police. An inspector.”


  Confusion danced across Phoebe’s face. “The police? I cannot imagine why they would be here.” She looked to Gabriel in question, but his look of shock and concern indicated this was a surprise to him as well.

  “He didn’t say, Mum.”

  Phoebe forced a little smile. “No, of course not. Could you please show him to my office, Molly, and have some tea brought in?”

  “I’ll just be a minute, Seth.” A weary sigh escaped her lips, as she hoped that whatever the problem, it would be one easily resolved.

  Gabriel came around the bar. “You’re certainly not meeting with him alone. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some copper interrogate you.” Phoebe opened her mouth to protest, but her brother put his hand up to stop her. “Phoebe, love, this has nothing to do with you not being able to take care of yourself, but you’re too polite and kindhearted for a copper not to take advantage, given half a chance. This place can run itself for a bit. Seth, I want you there also, if you do not mind.”

  “Of course.” Seth nodded his agreement.

  “Well, I’m glad I have a say in all of this.” With her annoyance made evident, Phoebe turned on her heel, but before she could take a step, Seth grabbed her hand.

  “Gabriel, could we have just a moment?” Though Seth was addressing Gabriel, his eyes were locked on Phoebe.

  A smile crept across Gabriel’s face in exact opposition to the scowl on Phoebe’s. “Of course. I’ll wait in the office.”

  “What is it?” She couldn’t keep the strain from her voice.

  “Phoebe… I know I’ve made mistakes, aye? And I’ll probably make many more. But I need you to know that I am trying, my love. It caught me off guard to see you there in that neighborhood, and my fear for your safety got the better of me.”