Page 30 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

“Some aren’t terrible. I mean, in some circuses, the workers are happy to be there. But others aren’t. A few of my servants have…disfigurements.” He paused before knocking. “I just wanted to warn you.”

She nodded.

The door swung open, and Bernard came into view in his impeccable dark suit.

“Lady Vivienne. Mrs. Dobkins. This is Bernard, my butler,” Samuel said.

Vivienne gave him a graceful nod.

Bernard bowed and stretched out an arm towards the hallway.

Samuel handed him his coat and hat. “Bernard is deaf and doesn’t talk, so make sure he sees your face when you’re talking to him. He reads the lips very well, and of course he signs.”

She looked surprised. “Read the lips?”

Bernard nodded, smiling.

Samuel tensed a little when he had to introduce his housekeeper, hoping there wouldn’t be any gasps. “Lady Vivienne, Mrs. Dobkins, this is Mrs. Foster, my housekeeper.”

Mrs. Foster bobbed a curtsy, her gaze on the floor. She whispered, “Welcome, my lady.”

Vivienne didn’t flinch at Mrs. Foster’s face, nor did she ask the housekeeper to speak louder. “I’m looking forward to knowing you better, Mrs. Foster. I’ve never managed a house so big. I’ll need your help once I’m Mrs. Lyon.”

Lyon wasn’t Samuel’s real name; he’d chosen it because he wasn’t afraid of his past, but when she said it, his chest expanded.

Mrs. Foster raised her gaze. “It’ll be my pleasure, my lady.”

Vivienne’s smile didn’t falter. Even Dobkins remained stoic. If anything, she seemed distracted, searching around.

Samuel touched a series of thin ropes running along the wall. “These are for Potter, my cook. He’s blind. He uses the ropes as a guide to move around the house. Each rope is different and leads to a specific room. He’s a shy man. You probably won’t see him around much.”

She ran a finger along the ropes. “Very clever.”

“Mrs. Foster, where is Captain Jackson?” he asked.

Dobkins straightened.

“He’ll be here soon. He went out on an errand.”

“Where is William?” He arched a brow, nearly worried to ask.

“I’m here, sir.” The footman stood nearby, close to the hall that led to the kitchen, suddenly alert and brushing some breadcrumbs from his uniform.

He bowed with enthusiasm and a smile that was all mischief.

“My lady. I’m William, first footman.” He eyed Vivienne’s gold brooch with too much interest.

“William,” he warned, signing slowly.

“Sir, I didn’t do anything.” William tugged at his jacket, all innocence.

Samuel wouldn’t talk about William’s criminal past in front of anyone. Not that William’s former profession was a secret, but he didn’t want to embarrass the young man.

“Bernard, call for tea please.” He led Vivienne upstairs to the drawing room. “Are you all right with my choices? You’ll hire your maids if you want.”

She put a hand on his arm. “I’m more than happy about your choices, and I’m sure Dobkins will come with me.”

“Of course.” Dobkins nodded.

She sat on the sofa. “Quite proud of you, actually.”

“And the house is beautiful,” Dobkins said.

“How do you call your butler?” Vivienne asked.

“We have bells that warn other servants to call Bernard and other bell ropes that, instead of making a ringing noise, have some long, colourful ribbons that attract attention. If you need something, ring the bell, and someone will come. Sometimes Bernard doesn’t show up immediately.

Be patient, please. He’s an excellent butler and a good man. ”

A servant brought in the full tea with a tower of sandwiches, fruit and tarts, various cream cakes, and biscuits.

“Try these.” Samuel handed her a brown nut tart. “They are my favourite. From America. Potter knows, so she makes them every week. Pecan tarts. We brought a supply of pecans with us.”

“Pecan tarts?” She bit into one and was assailed by its deep sweetness, and closed her eyes. “So sweet. It’s delicious.”

Dobkins tried one as well. She leant over and quietly asked, “Are you worried Murdock might find you?”

“Even if he does, what can he do? I’m officially Samuel Lyon, born in New York City. He can’t prove I am not.”

“Lady Vivienne.” The captain entered the room, carrying his leather medical bag and beaming. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

Dobkins shot up to her feet, choking on the tart. Gagging noises came out of her. Her face reddened.

The captain grabbed her from behind and pressed her abdomen until she let out a loud gasp.

“Heavens.” Vivienne put a hand on her chest.

The captain smiled, still holding Dobkins. “Next time you want me to hug you, just say it. No need to risk your life.”

Dobkins slanted him a glare.

Captain Jackson helped Dobkins sit down. “Did you miss me?”

Samuel handed Dobkins a cup of tea. “Have some.”

“Goodness.” She glanced at the captain. “You caught me off guard. But yes. I missed you a little.”

They smiled at each other with a tenderness new to Samuel.

Vivienne took Captain Jackson’s hand. “Dear Captain.”

The captain’s smile vanished as he studied her. “Lady Vivienne.” He hugged her.

“You took very good care of Samuel,” she said.

“Sometimes I think it’s the other way around.” The captain sat in front of her and opened his bag. “Samuel has told me about his concerns regarding your health. I’m aware you got sick with pneumonia and suffered from permanent lung damage?” He opened his medical bag.

She nodded. “I have respiratory problems, and my heart isn’t strong.”

Samuel dismissed the only servant and Dobkins got up and closed the door.

“May I examine you?”

“Yes.” A little shiver went through her.

“Do I need to leave?” Samuel asked.

“Stay. Tell me about your symptoms, Vivienne.” The captain held her wrist and checked her pulse.

“Well, mostly I’m tired. Fatigue never leaves me. I feel weak and sleepy. I have a constant ache in my chest, difficulty breathing, and dizziness.”

“She suffers from itchy skin and rashes as well,” Dobkins said.

The captain auscultated her back and asked her to cough a few times.

“And I run a fever oftentimes.” Vivienne exhaled.

“Hmm.” The captain studied her eyes for a long time. “Push out your tongue, please.”

She did as told.

After the captain examined her mouth, he used a magnifier to study her fingernails, her scalp, and her hair. “What drugs do you take?”

“Many potions Dr. Tucker prepares.” From her pocket, she took out a vial filled with a dull purple liquid. “This one I always carry with me. I need to take a few sips every two hours.”

Captain Jackson uncorked it and sniffed. The tendons in his neck stood out. “Does Dr. Tucker prepare this?”

She nodded.

“The bastard!” The captain sprang to his feet and paced, startling Vivienne.

“What is it?” Samuel stood and signed right in front of the captain’s face to attract his attention.

The captain rummaged through his bag. “I need to do further tests, but I’m quite sure Lady Vivienne isn’t sick. Pneumonia, my arse. My lady, you’re being poisoned.”