Viridis - A Steampunk Romance

by Calista Taylor

  She sighed with a shrug of her shoulders. “I can tell ye for sure that I know nothing ‘bout who killed Niles. As for my day, it was no different than any other, really. Just the ordinary chores, then headed to see my sister at the shelter. We work odd hours, so our paths don’t tend to cross if I don’t find her.”

  “You only work the nights at the club?” When Lilly nodded, William continued. “And did you find your sister?”

  “Aye, for she’d not miss a day o’ work. Got meself a bite to eat there at the shelter and then headed to work. Niles showed up at the club like usual, but left before long to meet with someone. Said he had some business. I was busy working so didn’t notice him coming and going, and he didn’t say who he was meeting. But when he didna show up back at Viridis like he said he would, I got worried. Then I heard that he’d been done for. Couldn’t believe it, aye? Soon after was when I got the feeling I was being followed, and figured it might not be safe for me anymore.”

  “Who would want him dead, Lily? What was he involved in?” William pushed.

  “There’s lots you don’t know. Niles— he weren’t yer typical lord, like. He was into things he’d have been better off leaving alone.” Now that she had started talking, her pace picked up, the words tumbling out, seemingly happy to unburden herself. “He was SS, ye know. Special Services. ‘Tis probably them bastards that’ve been following me. They’d sent poor Niles to try and gather information on the Cause and other such things.”

  In light of the tinkering currently stashed behind his bushes, it wasn’t an enormous surprise that Niles was working for Special Services, but it was good to have his suspicions confirmed. “But why send someone of his standing to try and infiltrate a cause for the poor? Wouldn’t it be easier to bribe one of the poor already involved to gather information?”

  “And ye think they don’t already?” She let out a laugh that brought a light to her eyes. “But they can only get so far up the chain with no influence, aye? Niles though, he’d be able to get in with those higher up, offering money and support, though I didna think the money was his own. The Cause has plans, but won’t get far if they cannot get the backing they need. Funny thing is, once he got involved, he really felt for what the poor are going through.”

  “And Lord Niles was offering the Cause the funding they needed?”

  Lilly gave him a wicked smile. “Takes bodies to fight a revolution, but a bit of gold ain’t never hurt, aye?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Seth couldn’t figure out what had changed in the time it took for him to retrieve his steam coach. When he had left Phoebe, it was all they could do to keep their hands off each other, her sultry eyes lighting her face. Yet now, she sat there a completely different person— all in the span of ten minutes.

  She claimed exhaustion, and with all she had constantly going, he shouldn’t be surprised. However, her voice seemed strained and she kept her distance during the entire ride, avoiding his gaze and conversation.

  Seth pulled the steam coach in front of her house, and was about to get out to open her door when she put a hand on his arm.

  “My headache has gotten worse and I doubt it will let up. I think it’s best if I just get some rest. I will see you tomorrow?”

  “Let me at least see you in.” Without waiting for her reply, he exited the vehicle coming around to help her out, trying to ignore the quickening of his heart and the ache in his heart.

  “Seth, really. I’m fine—”

  “Nonsense. I won’t stay, but at least let me see you to your door. I’d never forgive myself if you slipped on the icy path.” He took her hand in his, and led her to her home.

  Lights, left on for her arrival, glowed by the path and door. The walkway had been cleared of snow, but a thin layer of shimmering ice still coated the cobbles. He helped her up the stairs and was about to bid her goodnight when the light from her house fell across her face. Her lips were cut and swollen, her hair falling from its pins.

  He muttered a curse, as a quiet rage filled him, twisting his stomach in knots. He reached over and gently tilted her chin up so that he could see her face and look into her eyes.

  “Phoebe.” His voice came out a coarse whisper as he fought to control his emotions. “Come inside out of the cold.”

  With the truth exposed, Phoebe now seemed visibly shaken, the tremor in her voice giving her away, as she dropped her guard, all pretenses gone. “No. Not here. I’d been hoping to slip upstairs unnoticed, but if you come in, it will rouse Martha and Sarah. I’d rather they not see me like this, for I do not want to worry them.”

  He nodded then escorted her back to the steam coach and drove them to his home, his body rigid with fury.

  Her injuries looked far worse in the bright lights of his kitchen. He sat her down at the table and busied himself with the kettle and teacups, wrestling with his emotions. If he addressed her at this very moment, he knew his anger would get the best of him. Shaken and hurt, what she needed right now was someone calm and levelheaded. Independent as she was, getting angry would only make her defensive and put her guard up, distracting them from the true matter at hand.

  He set the kettle on the stove with a metallic clang, and then pulled a clean cloth from a drawer under the counter. Soaking the end in icy cold water, he wrung it out and then knelt before her so he could look at her face.

  “Let me see here.” Taking the cloth he pressed it to the swollen part of her lip, dabbing gingerly at the dried blood. When the kettle whistled, he handed her the cloth, and got the tea steeping.

  They said nothing while they waited, Seth needing the time to approach things in a calm manner and Phoebe obviously not wanting to discuss matters. She had barely said a word, barely moved a muscle, her eyes cast downward at the hands in her lap as she fingered the ribbon on her skirt, further avoiding any discussion. He wondered at what happened, unable to keep his mind from tormenting him with a half dozen scenarios designed to tear his heart to pieces and send his blood boiling.

  Seeking further distraction from his thoughts, he poured the tea, then went to the frost box, pulled out some meat and cheese, and grabbed the bread and butter from the counter. Pulling out a knife, he proceeded to slice and plate the food, putting the meal on the table when he was done.

  He placed a cup of tea on the table before her and took the bloodied cloth from her hands. “Here, let me soak that in some more cold water. Careful with the tea. It’ll sting, but will do ye good none the less.”

  He ran the cloth back under the cold water, wringing it out with far too much force. Just the thought of someone hurting Phoebe… he gripped the sink, his head hung low as he resisted the urge to smash his fist into the wall. Taking a deep breath, he held it until he felt his lungs would burst, and then let it out slowly, finally turning back to hand her the wet cloth.

  He sat in the chair adjacent to hers. “Do ye want to tell me what happened?”

  “There’s nothing to tell. Nothing of any consequence happened and what little did, I’d sooner forget.” Seth could feel her putting up a wall. She would not even look at him, her gaze instead falling to her hands as they fidgeted with the cloth, whether in embarrassment or avoidance, he could not say. However, one thing was clear— she certainly did not want to discuss the matter.

  “This,” Seth brushed a light thumb across her lip, “is not ‘nothing’ and I’d appreciate ye being honest with me.” His anger had his words slipping further towards the Scots.

  Without looking at him, she said, “It was just a misunderstanding.”

  He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, then tilted her chin so she looked him in the eyes. “My love, ye ken ye’re not capable of telling even the slightest untruth without it being completely evident, and this was nae misunderstanding.”

  He took a deep breath, taking care to keep the anger out of his voice as he asked the question that had been plaguing him since seeing her bruised face, even though he already knew the answer.

/>   “Was it Victor?” He could have choked on the name.

  She gave him a barely perceptible nod. That was all he needed.

  Seth helped Phoebe to her feet. With the truth now out, she looked exhausted. “Come. Ye need rest more than anything else right now,” he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. Together, they climbed the stairs to the second floor, housing the sleeping quarters.

  He steered her down the hall, but not to his room as she might expect, but in the opposite direction. She stiffened in his arms and came to a stop. “Where are we going? Your room is that way.” She pointed with a tilt of head.

  He took a deep breath before releasing it, willing his voice to remain calm though his tone was stern. “We’re going to the guest bedroom.”

  Phoebe stopped and looked at him. “Why?”

  Frustration now edged his voice. “Phoebe, it’s been a long night, and quite frankly this isna something I want to discuss right now. You need rest, and I need to clear my head.”

  “What is there to discuss? I don’t understand.” A glint of anger was quick to spark in her eyes and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a remnant from her earlier confrontation with Victor.

  He ran his hand down her arm and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Phoebe.” He let out a deep sigh. “We canna continue like this. I understand if ye’re not ready to marry me, and I’ll not push ye into something ye dinna want. However, it’s our current relationship that makes men like Victor think they can treat ye with disrespect, and I’ll not fuel their argument. I’m sorry.”

  Her mouth tightened to a thin line, anger lighting her eyes. “You cannot tell me that you blame me for Victor.”

  “I don’t, Phoebe. I don’t. I blame myself for being weak, and not waiting until our marriage to take ye to bed.” Through gritted teeth, he continued. “And I blame Victor for not keeping his hands to himself and forgetting that ye’re a lady.”

  “Is this about my not wanting to get married? We were young, Seth, and our lives were in a tumult. It would have been too much to contend with when my sister was ill and getting worse with each passing day. I had to concentrate on my work, and you had your assignments with the Cause.”

  “Marry me then. Things have changed, aye? And I’ve promised I’ll not leave again.” He took both her hands in his, willing her to just say yes, desperate to hear that one word after all these years. “Marry me, Phoebe.”

  His heart thundered away, each moment an eternity, as he waited for her answer. He could see her searching for an answer, searching her heart and her soul. A fine dew broke out across her forehead and the color drained from her face. Her eyes lost focus, and Seth knew she was going to faint. He slipped his arm around her waist to support her weight as she struggled to hold on. Then, just before she lost consciousness, she managed to get her answer out.

  “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.