Page 32 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

twenty-nine

A fter Vivienne stopped crying, her chest felt empty. Her whole life did.

All those days she’d spent in bed, taken by a high fever or sudden sickness, had been a lie. She could have been healthy and happy and sailed to New York City to see Samuel as she had dreamed. Instead, she’d believed every word Dr. Tucker had said. She’d trusted him.

How stupid of her! She was angrier with herself than with Dr. Tucker. For years, she’d thought Mother’s fear of diseases and germs was ridiculous, but she’d fallen into the same trap.

The sweet taste of the purple potion she’d taken every day for years still lingered in her mouth. Learning the truth had sent a bitter shock through her. She had been upset with Mother for being gullible. How ironic.

Samuel sat next to her on the sofa in the drawing room after the shocking news. They were alone. Dobkins was somewhere in the house, and Captain Jackson had gone to start analysing the sample, or so Vivienne believed.

Life made little sense now, and she didn’t even care.

“How do you feel?” He stroked her knuckles with his thumb. The small gesture made her breathe better.

“Angry. Relieved. Confused.” She wiped a tear. “I hope Mother isn’t aware of what Dr. Tucker is doing, but her anger at knowing I was about to leave the house worries me.”

“I disagree with the captain about keeping the truth quiet. If you want to stay here tonight, your room is ready.”

She put a hand on his cheek. “I know, but I want to deliver Dr. Tucker to justice. One more night won’t change anything, and I’ll have the opportunity to collect all the potions Dr. Tucker prescribed me so the captain can examine them. If I stay here, I fear he might flee.”

“Another happy memory.” He brushed a curl of her hair from her face with infinite care.

“I’ll never doubt your word.”

The intense way he looked at her sparked energy within her, and above all, hope. One look from him worked better than any tonic.

“I so admire what you did with your household staff.” She caressed his cheek again. “Those people wouldn’t find employment easily, if at all.”

“We have some difficult days, but with a bit of organisation, the house runs smoothly, and I’m not deluded. Hadn’t it been for my good luck, I wouldn’t have easily found a job either.”

“You seemed worried when you introduced me to your staff.”

He gazed down. “I wasn’t sure how you would react. I have my own…problems here.” He put a hand on his throat. “And here.” He pointed to his head. “My problems added to a particular household full of people like me might have been too much for you.”

“No, never. You aren’t too much.” He was, but not in the way he thought. “You’re so strong and confident, I can only be proud of you.”

He shook his head. “The fear is still here.” He placed a hand over his chest. “Sometimes I can control it. Sometimes it controls me.”

She placed her hand over his. “Perhaps it’ll be easier if we control it together.”

He kissed her hand, sending shivers dancing on her skin. “I’m looking forward to it. I want to start a new life with you. I want to show you the world.”

Her heart gave a quick kick that stole her breath, and she hugged him. A few hours ago, she wouldn’t have believed she had the opportunity to take a holiday and leave London. Samuel made her dream again.

“Thank you.”

He held her, his arms around her, so he couldn’t sign. But it didn’t matter. His warmth said it all.

When Vivienne returned home, the atmosphere was glacial at dinner.

Even the footmen serving at the table seemed stiffer than usual.

She took small spoonfuls of her soup while Mother barely touched it, twirling her spoon without pause. Father sported a permanent frown.

Mother dropped the spoon and waved at the footman to take her bowl away. “My appetite is gone.”

Father straightened, assuming the pose he reserved for meeting with his business partners. “Are you unwell ?”

Even Vivienne detected the sharp, sarcastic note in Father’s voice.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m worried. I can’t believe you left the house like that today,” Mother said to Vivienne. “After I explicitly asked you to stay.”

“Jane.” Father shot Mother a glare. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

Mother put a trembling hand on the table. “You don’t care about her. You’ll let her die as you did with Adele.”

Father shot up, scraping his chair back. “How dare you!”

Vivienne winced. The footman did, too.

“Adele meant the world to me.” Father’s voice cracked, and his pain thickened the air. “I was patient with you because we were both mourning our daughter, but enough now! Vivienne will leave this house tomorrow, and I can’t honestly be happier for her.”

“She will die!” Mother raised her voice.

“Then she’ll live her last days doing whatever she wants, and we’ll support her as parents who love her should do.” His voice boomed in the dining room.

Mother’s nostrils flared. “Her death will be on your conscience.”

“Mother, please.” Vivienne shook her head. “How can you say something like that to Father?”

He dropped his napkin on the table and left in such a hurry the footman had barely time to open the door for him.

Mother hunched her shoulders and cried silently, pressing Adele’s silver box against her chest. It pained Vivienne to see her parents fighting, but she couldn’t find the strength to be understanding.

Mother had let her grief destroy their family although she and Father had their own faults.

They’d always pandered to Mother’s delusions, and this was the result.

Her brothers and sisters rarely visited them in London, and their relationship with Mother was strained.

Vivienne had been poisoned, forced to stay home, and had been ill for a long time.

“Compose yourself,” she said.

“How can you leave me?” Mother’s voice sounded high-pitched and hysterical.

“Why can’t you be happy for me? I’ve been cooped up here for years. I want to go out and have new experiences. I want my life back.”

“You’re sick!”

Enough. Father was right and she didn’t have the patience or the energy to argue with her mother. Their separation would benefit Mother as well. Perhaps she would realise that her life could go on.

Vivienne pushed her chair back and rose.

The footman’s reflexes were once again put to the test by her speed.

After she left the dining room, she didn’t go far.

Her energy dwindled, and she slowed her pace to pause at the base of the sweeping stairs.

The world tilted, and she took deep breaths.

Her dizziness was nothing new, but since she knew the real reason behind it, anger exacerbated it.

“Lady Vivienne.”

She gasped at hearing Dr. Tucker’s voice. He came from the hallway towards her, carrying his leather bag.

She forced herself not to shiver.

He adjusted his round glasses. “I heard the news.”

Her legs quivered, and she put a hand on the bannister to steady herself. “What news?”

He leant closer and whispered, “You tamed my lion.”

Her breathing stuttered with fear. “What an odd choice of words.”

“You’re getting married to Mr. Lyon, the golden king. Tomorrow. How quick!”

She inched back from him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but why should we wait?”

“Love at first sight?” He stepped closer, and the light from the gas lamp glinted off his bald head. “Aren’t you too weak for a hasty wedding? A wedding is so demanding.”

“I have plenty of your remedies to give me strength. Isn’t that what they’re supposed to do?”

He smiled, but the result chilled her blood. There was no joy in that smile, only machination. “How comforting for me to know you’ll take care of yourself with my remedies.” He took another step closer.

Her breathing became more erratic. Curse the purple potion. She hadn’t drunk a sip of it since that morning, but as Captain Jackson had said, her body would take a while to get rid of the poison.

Dr. Tucker stared into her eyes as if aware of her fear, as if he relished in it.

“I think your decision to leave the house is too hasty. You aren’t ready.

” He closed his clammy hand around her wrist. “I think you need to be taken care of in a proper clinic for a few weeks. I know one, a lovely place out of the chaos of London, immersed in nature. Plenty of rest and my constant visits will do you good.”

A clinic? She shrugged her arm free, hurting her wrist. “Leave me alone.”

Her words didn’t come out as strongly as she wanted. She sounded small and weak, and she hated that.

“But I can’t. I promised your mother I would do everything to save you. Apparently, icy baths and flagellation are the latest frontiers of medicine.”

“You mean torture.”

He seized her arm again. “Then tell Mr. Lyon you changed your mind and that you don’t want to marry him anymore.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m afraid you don’t leave me any choice.” He gave her a yank, making her wince.

Dobkins stepped between them, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She shoved Dr. Tucker with one strong push. She towered over him, and his bad leg wasn’t in his favour.

Dr. Tucker staggered a few feet back, his beady eyes growing wide with anger.

“Lady Vivienne needs to go to her room.” Dobkins put an arm around Vivienne’s shoulders.

“I’ll come with you.” He insisted.

“Absolutely not.” Dobkins used a growling voice Vivienne had no idea she could produce.

“But see…” He fished out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a formal request to escort Lady Vivienne to a clinic, signed by her mother, who is very concerned about her daughter’s health.”

“I don’t care if it’s signed by the queen. Mark!” Dobkins called the footman who arrived promptly. “Escort the doctor out immediately.”

Mark stretched out an arm towards the front door, but Dr. Tucker didn’t move.

“The countess sent for me. I won’t leave until I see her,” he said. “I’m sure she wants to know if her request to hospitalise her daughter is going as she wants.”

Vivienne shouldn’t be surprised, but the news hurt. Mother would rather see her locked up in a clinic than married and happy.

“Fair enough,” Dobkins said. “Go and see Her Ladyship. Lady Vivienne will retire now.”

Mark stopped Dr. Tucker from going upstairs. “This way, sir.”

Vivienne avoided glancing at him. The fright had robbed her of the last ounce of energy.

Dobkins helped her up the stairs, half-supporting, half-dragging her.

Vivienne panted by the time she arrived at her bedroom. “He wanted to take me away.”

“Over my dead body. Your father wouldn’t have allowed that.”

“Why can’t I breathe?”

“You’ve been taking that poison for a while, and that monster gave you a fright. I guess your body is too weak to endure too much excitement.” Dobkins shut the door and released Vivienne. “I apologise for not having understood the truth earlier. I feel like an idiot.”

Vivienne took deep breaths. “I didn’t understand it either. It’s not your fault.”

“It is. Like your mother, I feared you would die as Lady Adele, and sometimes we fear something so deeply that our judgement is impaired.” Dobkins sniffled. “But this is a conversation we’ll have another time.”

In a flurry of activity, she opened the armoire and took out a few clothes.

“What are you doing?” Vivienne sat on the stuffed stool in front of the vanity, her head light.

“We’re leaving. Now. I’ll pack only a few things.”

“But we agreed I should sleep here tonight.”

“Because we thought Dr. Tucker was unaware of the fact you knew the truth. It’s obvious he isn’t.”

“He said something weird…you tamed my lion.”

“Why is it weird?” Dobkins rummaged through the chest of drawings.

“Because he didn’t say a lion or the lion, but my lion.”

“Who knows what he meant by that?”

“What about my father? I can’t leave him.”

“He left for his gentlemen’s club.” Dobkins stuffed a shirt and a skirt into a carpet bag.

“Write a letter to him. Tell him…what you want. The wedding is tomorrow. Your parents will find a way to contain the gossip for a night, but I won’t take the risk of that evil doctor kidnapping you in your sleep. ”

She swallowed hard, opening the drawer of her escritoire. If Dr. Tucker knew she discovered his treachery, it was plausible to think he might want to get rid of her, not merely lock her away.

She addressed the letter to Father, telling him the truth, that Mother had authorised Dr. Tucker to send her to a clinic, and she had no intention of going anywhere. So she’d decided to go to a nearby lodge for accommodation.

“I’ve finished it.” She folded the letter.

“I’ll put it on his bed.” Dobkins left the room with the letter.

From her pocket, Vivienne fished out the vial Captain Jackson had given him and took a sip. In the past few years, she’d been patient—too patient—with her weakness. Now she wanted to get better immediately.

Dobkins entered the room and closed the carpet bag. “Let’s go.” She carried the bag and helped Vivienne stand up.

“I can walk on my own.” She could, but not quickly.

They went down the stairs slowly. The staircase darkened as she gazed down.

“We’ll hail a cab and be at Samuel’s in a moment.” Dobkins searched around, her chest rising and falling.

Her gaze shifted towards the dining room. Was Dr. Tucker there with Mother?

She expected him to come out of the dining room and seize her to drag her to an asylum. Her pulse hammered in her veins.

“Nearly there, my lady.” Dobkins helped her speed up across the hallway.

The cold air cleared her head, but sweat damped the back of her neck. The shadows could hide anyone, and fear tightened her chest.

“Stay strong.” Dobkins hailed a cab and helped her in. “We’re leaving.”

She exhaled when she sat in the cab. Her heart was racing, and shivers went through her. Her vision blurred as well.

Not for the first time, she feared she was about to die.