Page 26 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

twenty-four

Eight years later

T ravelling first class was the best way of travelling.

On his way to London from Canada, Samuel had bought a first-class train ticket to New York City, and then booked a luxurious cabin on an ocean liner, then another first-class train ticket from Southampton to London.

And finally, he’d booked the best, most expensive suite at Brown’s Hotel in the heart of Mayfair.

A suite with three bedrooms, a sitting room, a study, and even a piano room with one of the most beautiful views London had to offer.

He could afford it.

And more.

If he wanted, he could buy the whole damned hotel.

After sailing to New York City years ago, he’d made his way even farther, to the Klondike region in the Yukon, where he bought a piece of frozen land for a handful of dollars, and by sheer, dumb luck become the owner of the biggest vein of gold found there in a decade.

With his new name of Samuel Lyon, he’d founded Lyon Gold Corporation, a name associated with wealth, prestige, and power.

The boy, who didn’t have enough coins to buy himself a glass of lemonade, now could buy a thousand acres of lemon trees. He had returned to London as a free, rich man, there to see Vivienne again.

Captain Jackson walked into the bedroom, wearing an expensive, tailored dark suit that accentuated his glossy black hair. Only a few grey strands coloured his temples, giving him a sophisticated air.

“How do I look?” The captain straightened and adjusted his bow tie.

“Elegant.”

Years of being sober and working hard had changed the captain deeply, both physically and mentally. A trimmed beard covered his face, and his skin had lost that pale, doughy quality from when he’d drunk heavily. He’d grown muscles, and even his posture was straighter.

“What about me? How do I look?” Samuel opened his dark grey jacket, showing a matching silk waistcoat.

“Like a filthy rich gentleman. When is your filthy rich house ready to live in?”

“We should leave the hotel in a day or two.” And he wouldn’t need to pack a single bag. He paid a small army of people for that.

“Are you ready to meet Lord and Lady Huntington?” the captain asked.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for years. I’m ready.”

He hadn’t exchanged many letters with Vivienne. He’d moved through North America constantly before settling in the Yukon, so he hadn’t had the chance to follow her progress as he’d wanted.

But something must have happened to her recently. In her last letters, she’d sounded dispirited, and her writing looked thin and frail.

The double pneumonia had healed but not completely, and her lungs didn’t work as well as they should. He worried she hadn’t told him the whole truth about the severity of her health.

“I’ll come with you in the carriage,” the captain said, “but after the coachman leaves you at Lord Huntington’s, I’ll head to Oxford Street. It’s better if the earl and the countess don’t see me.”

In the carriage, as they drove towards Huntington Hall, they remained silent.

Lyon Gold Corporation had made investment deals with Lord Huntington—Samuel had made sure of that—and when he’d mentioned his intention of going to London to manage his English office there, Lord Huntington had been enthusiastic about meeting him. Exactly what Samuel had wanted.

Vivienne knew about the whole affair thanks to his letters, but he didn’t know if they would have the opportunity to be alone. He was about to find that out.

“I miss the…” Captain Jackson made a wide gesture with his arm. “Endless spaces America has. Here everything is narrow and constricted. I had never noticed that before.”

“New York City is as constricting as London.”

“Its architecture, yes, but what New York City lacks in space, it makes up for with freedom.”

He tilted his head, acknowledging the captain’s point. Had he stayed in London, he doubted he would have built the empire he controlled today.

At first, the money had made him dizzy and drunk with opportunities. Now it was only something giving him safety from men like Murdock.

He’d hired Pinkerton men to discover where Murdock was with no result. Cade had had disappeared from London after the ice-skating disaster. Murdock as well had pulled a trick worthy of an illusionist and vanished, and the circus didn’t exist anymore. Samuel didn’t shed a tear.

“Are you going to use your notepad, or will someone translate from sign language?” Captain Jackson asked.

“The earl found someone who will translate. Shall I tell Dobkins you say hello?”

The captain smiled. “Ah, lovely woman. Yes, if you can.”

When the carriage rolled to a stop, he hesitated before getting out. The last time he’d been at Huntington Hall, he’d stared up at Vivienne’s dark room, his heart broken. His life had changed drastically, but the pain of not seeing her lingered.

“Good luck.” Captain Jackson didn’t look out of the window although no one would recognise him immediately.

Samuel exited the carriage and straightened his fine coat and silk neckwear.

Huntington Hall hadn’t changed. Its white walls shone with a fresh coat of paint, the bay windows were framed by the same plush brocade draperies, and the marble stairs shone as if recently scrubbed.

But the beautiful oak tree had been ruthlessly trimmed.

Its branches didn’t reach Vivienne’s room any longer.

They were fewer and thinner, lacking the vigour he remembered.

A footman welcomed him and showed him to a sitting room where Lord and Lady Huntington waited.

“My lord, my lady, Mr. Lyon is here.” The footman bowed.

Samuel bowed as well, one hand on his notepad.

All the breath was flushed out of his lungs when he saw Vivienne. For a moment, he couldn’t move, think, or sign.

Her lips parted, and her blue eyes sparkled with starlight. He had to clench his fists not to run to her, hug her, and sweep her off her feet. Controlling himself was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

“Lady Huntington, Lord Huntington.” He wrote in his notepad. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lady Vivienne.”

She replied with a nod. Her gaunt face had lost its roundness, and her raven hair wasn’t glossy anymore.

The countess had lost weight too, and her black gown contrasted with her paleness.

Lord Huntington nodded at the footman who left the room, and a moment later, a man entered, followed by Dobkins. She had changed, too. A few more strips of grey streaked her hair and wrinkles of worry crowned her gentle brown eyes.

She gave him a wide smile, then directed the tea service that arrived behind her.

“Take a seat, Lyon.” Lord Huntington gestured at the armchairs. “We’re eager to hear everything about your journey. Mr. Jones here is from the Deaf Institute.”

“Mr. Lyon,” Mr. Jones shook his hand. “I will translate for you.”

Sometimes not being able to use his voice was a blessing, as it was now. He sipped tea while Jones translated his answers to mundane questions.

He had the opportunity to steal glances at Vivienne who glanced back at him. Not warm glances. There was a coldness about her that bothered him.

He gave her a pointed look, with his hand hidden at his side and he signed for her only. “How are you?”

She put her cup down, lowered a hand and signed back, but her movements were sluggish as if she didn’t have the energy.

He didn’t understand what she said. “I’ve missed you.” He checked Lord and Lady Huntington were still listening to Jones. “When can I see you?”

She gazed away.

That was a punch in the stomach. If she didn’t want to see him, he wouldn’t impose his presence on her, but he’d hoped she would be as eager as he was to be together.

“You must come to our garden party tomorrow,” Lord Huntington said. “We’ll serve lunch and a few drinks, and raise money for charity.”

The countess gave him a small smile. “Please say you’ll join us.”

He couldn’t refuse, and it would be another possibility to see Vivienne.

The rest of the visit was about his business and his life in the Americas. The ladies didn’t talk, and Vivienne rarely glanced at him. She seemed about to fall asleep, and he couldn’t blame her.

When he was about to leave, he bowed in front of her and signed while Jones wasn’t looking, “What happened to you?”

That got a reaction from her. Her cheeks flushed.

He bowed again, showing a written page to Lord and Lady Huntington. “My lord, my lady, thank you for seeing me.”

Dobkins beamed at him again.

Samuel left the house with a sense of confusion draped around him like a cloak. He drove through Oxford Street to pick up the captain. He was eager to talk to him.

“How did it go?” Captain Jackson said once he was in the carriage.

“Vivienne. Something is wrong with her. She’s thin, pale, and even her hair is lifeless.”

The captain drummed his fingers on his knee. “The damage left by double pneumonia might be severe and long lasting. She’s lucky she survived.”

“For years?”

“Yes. In some cases, for a lifetime. The body remains locked in a battle with the latent infection, and it’s an exhausting battle.

If parts of her lungs don’t work properly, she’ll feel tired constantly.

Her breathing will be shallow, and she’ll be prone to catching colds and having respiratory problems, and even her heart could be affected.

Progress has been made with severe cases of double pneumonia, but modern medicine hasn’t found a solution to help a body recover yet. ”

Samuel shook his head. “I’m not convinced. Spending time with you and your patients, I learnt a thing or two, and I tell you, whatever afflicts her is more serious. I want you to examine her.”

“Of course. I just have to march into her house, from where I was banned years ago for not having saved her sister, and ask her parents to trust the assessment of the man who, in their opinion, killed their daughter.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.” He shot his gaze upwards. “I’ll find a way to let you meet her.”