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 su
ffer 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.”
Seth had no words. It was little consolation. Putting his glass down on the side table, he said, “I’m going to bed.”
Entering Phoebe’s room, he was surprised to find her awake, standing before the open window, the cold pouring in. He crossed to her side and stood behind her, but said nothing.
Phoebe stared out the window at the winter garden below. Without looking at him, she said, “I thought the fresh air would help me stay awake. The laudanum keeps threatening to pull me under.”
He gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder, and though she flinched just a little at his touch, she did eventually lean back on him, pulling his arm around her. He breathed the slightest sigh of relief. If she could still bring herself to let him hold her, perhaps there was hope.
“I do love you so, Phoebe.”
“And I you.”
Chapter Sixty Seven
William spent the following morning with Nelson, questioning Mr. Brown regarding Victor’s involvement in blackmailing Niles and stealing Phoebe’s formulas.
It turned out Victor had not wanted to be directly involved with anything illegal, so he hired his solicitors’ office to take care of it, instead. Despite being unable to refuse one of their largest clients, his solicitors also wanted no direct involvement, knowing the consequences of getting caught to be dire if directly involved.
Mr. Brown, a clerk at the office, had been chosen as the one to meet with Niles, primarily because he was not only expendable and easy to control, but because he was also in no position to refuse. If caught, the head solicitors could claim ignorance with little evidence to prove otherwise. With poor parents too old to work and several younger siblings counting on him as their primary source of income, he could not afford to lose his position, and so he had done as he was told.
Going to prison, however, would have made it even more difficult for him to care for his family, so Brown had given in and answered William’s questions. Though Brown admitted to blackmailing Niles into stealing the formula on Victor’s behalf, he still swore he knew nothing about the Lord’s murder or any involvement that Victor may or may not have had.
The evidence had been enough for Nelson to issue a warrant of arrest and have Victor hauled down to the station on charges of theft and blackmail just later that afternoon. William sat in his office, flipping through his notes, and making sure all was in order for Victor’s interview, which would start as soon as his solicitors arrived. There could be no mistakes made.
Nelson came to the door. “They’re here.” With Victor’s solicitors now present, they would be bringing him to the interrogation room for further questioning.
On William’s way out the door, he passed Victor who turned to him with a sly smile, his voice filled with arrogance. “I’ll have you know that the charges, true or not, will never stand. But have no worries, sir, for I will not forget your role in this.”
Chapter Sixty Eight
Phoebe sat at Gabriel’s bedside, clutching his limp hand in hers. He was the only family she had left in the world, and she was perilously close to losing him.
Seth rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. Though she appreciated the gesture, she had to fight the urge to shrug it off, struggling to keep the images of Victor out of her mind.
“Phoebe, come and have a bite to eat. You’ve been sitting here for hours and it’ll do Gabriel no good if you fall ill yourself. Please, my love, won’t you join me?”
She managed to nod, but could not bring herself to leave Gabriel’s side. “Who could do such a thing? The man did not have a mean bone in his body.” She reached over and brushed her hand down his face, tears running down her own.
“He’s young and strong, a ghaoil. He’ll pull through.” He reached over and with an arm around her shoulders, pulled her gently away, and steered her towards the door. “Come on, love. We’ll send Martha to tend to him.”
Seth led her to the kitchen and sat her down at the table. Gavin was once again at the stove, though the light-hearted atmosphere of the night before had disappeared. Phoebe wondered if things would ever feel normal again.
“Here ye are, lass.” Gavin handed Phoebe and Seth their plates piled high with eggs, bacon and buttered toast before sitting down with his own.
The men ate in uncomfortable silence while Phoebe pushed her food around her plate.
“Is it nae to yer liking, love? I could make ye something else if ye’d like.” Gavin frowned with concern, worry etched in his face.
Phoebe could barely look him in the eyes, recalling
the state he’d found her in at Victor’s. Forcing herself to take a bite, she said, “No, it’s fine, Gavin. Thank you. I’m afraid I’m just not terribly hungry. Perhaps I’ll go to the shelter and see if I can get Martha some help. She’s been alone since Sarah left and now with Gabriel here, I’m afraid she has her hands full.”
Seth gave her hand a squeeze. “Why don’t you let me take care of that for you? I’ll also see about getting Gabriel a nurse to care for him.”
“Perhaps, that would be best. I think I may lie down for a bit.” Phoebe wanted to hide under the covers of her bed and sleep for the next ten years. Perhaps then, when she awoke, she would not feel like she wanted to crawl out of her skin.
Chapter Sixty Nine
Seth headed to the shelter first, thinking he could find Phoebe a maid and send her over to the house, while he continued on to find a nurse for Gabriel. Once there, they sat him down with a steaming cup of tea as he waited for Mrs. Farthing.
“Och, there ye are.” She pulled up a seat next to him and put a work hardened hand on his arm, her face filled with concern. “How’s the Lady and her brother? We heard what happened to him, poor thing. ‘Tis tragic is what that is, such a nice young lad.”
“The doctors are hopeful that with time and rest, he will come to. As a result, Phoebe is short of help around the house”
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