Page 37 of The Lady and the Lion (Victorian Outcasts #9)

thirty-four

D inner was served in a small, beautiful dining room with a soaring ceiling decorated by frescoes. The scene depicted puffy white clouds and doves, and had a soothing effect on Vivienne’s mood, compared to her parents’ austere house.

Samuel sat at the head of the table, taking small portions of his dinner.

“What is it?” She touched his hand.

He hesitated before signing. “I don’t want you to worry, but at the moment, the police won’t bring any charges against Dr. Tucker. There’s no evidence he poisoned any of his patients, intentionally or otherwise. Many of his patients the police interviewed defended him.”

“I hope my mother isn’t one of them.”

“I’m sorry for the bad news.”

“This is the beginning. Don’t be discouraged. And don’t see obstacles everywhere.”

His smile reached his eyes. “Fair point.”

“Potter did a wonderful job,” she said, finishing her perfectly seasoned veal hash with potato croquettes.

“He’s the best.”

“I would like to thank him.”

Samuel nodded at William, who left the room immediately. “You can take care of the menu when you’re ready.”

Potter entered the dining room, his hand on one of the ropes lining the walls. “My lady, sir.” He had a shy but genuine smile.

She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Potter, everything was delicious. I’m impressed by your talent.”

The cook bowed. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Ask him if he can prepare the orange and almond cake for tomorrow,” Samuel signed.

She reported the request. Of course, for Samuel and Bernard, communicating with Potter was a challenge.

“I will, sir.” Potter bowed. “I’ll need William to come with me to the market if you can spare him.”

Samuel nodded, and Vivienne said, “Mr. Lyon has no objections.”

Potter fiddled with his hands. “I feel confident with my knives, but I never leave the house without someone.”

William raised a hand. “If I may, my lady, Potter is being modest. He moved to London a few weeks ago to get acquainted with the house and the kitchen before Mr. Lyon came in, but he already has a map of London in his brain. He knows every alley and backstreet like the palm of his hand, better than a Londoner.”

“William is exaggerating.” Potter kept fiddling. “But leaving the house frightens me, my lady.”

“Whatever you need, we’ll do our best to help you.” She understood Potter’s hesitation to venture from the house alone. Thugs could take advantage of him, and London’s streets kept changing. “Where did you learn to cook?”

“I worked for a wealthy family in New York City until I lost my sight from a gas explosion. My former employer dismissed me, and I lived on the streets for a while. I have to thank Mr. Lyon for having trusted me and given me a job.”

She cleared her throat as a lump tightened it. “You deserve your place here.”

“I wasn’t convinced at first,” Potter said. “I was worried I would cut my fingers or burn my hands, but Mr. Lyon encouraged me.”

She glanced fondly at Samuel. “Thank you for the lovely dinner, Potter, and the wedding breakfast was wonderful as well.”

Potter bowed. “My pleasure, my lady.” He left, guided by the ropes.

As the footman removed her empty plates, she wondered if there was a way that allowed everyone to communicate with Potter.

“You should see him chopping vegetables,” Samuel said. “His speed is impressive. I would chop off my fingers if I tried.”

She put her hand on his. “Another man, who went through what you did, would be full of anger and desire for revenge. Instead, you gave so many people hope.”

He stopped smiling. “What makes you think I’m not angry and resentful? I want to bring Murdock to justice, not just because it’s the right thing. I hate him for what he did to me, and I hate him even more for what he did to you.”

“But you think of others as well.”

“Because I know what they’re going through, and I have the means to help.”

She caressed his cheek. “You have a heart of gold.”

After dinner, when she went to her bedroom, she admitted to a quick flutter in her chest. Her wedding night. Would Samuel come?

Dobkins helped her out of her dinner gown and into her nightgown. “Tired, my lady?”

“Yes. I’m a bit…confused. Surprised. But in a good way. And I love the household. Everyone loves working for Samuel.”

Dobkins braided her hair. “Yes, but…”

“What?”

“It’s not my place, my lady.”

“Please tell me. Do you have problems with the people Samuel chose?”

“No.” Dobkins frowned, tying a ribbon at the end of Vivienne’s braid. “I’m worried about Dr. Tucker and what he might do. He’s a clever, resourceful, and conniving swindler. He must have set aside a small fortune in the past years. I don’t believe he’ll be brought to justice without a fight.”

“What do the servants have to do with that?”

“Well, with due respect, if someone sneaks into the house to attack us, their job would be easy. The butler won’t hear anything, the cook won’t see anything, William will loot the house and flee, and Samuel won’t be able to give the alarm if something happened.”

“Please don’t.”

“I apologise, my lady, and I mean no offence. I’m just worried.”

“I trust Samuel to keep us safe, and these people have done remarkably well without incidents so far, and Captain Jackson is a former soldier.”

“Yes, but ruthless men like Dr. Tucker won’t hesitate to hurt any of us, and many of us are quite vulnerable.”

That was true.

“I didn’t mean to upset you tonight, my lady.” Dobkins stoked the fire and drew the curtains. “But I confess I won’t sleep well at night here. Do you need anything else?”

“No, goodnight.” Vivienne slid under the covers once alone.

Dobkins was exaggerating. Why would Dr. Tucker attack them in their sleep? A confidence man wasn’t necessarily a murderer, and he might just flee London if the police charged him. And she trusted Samuel.

The cosy room and the soft bedsheets, heated by the bed warmer, lulled her to sleep. But she sat bolt upright when the door to Samuel’s bedroom inched open and he walked inside.

“Did I wake you up?” He was carrying a single large lily with dark blue petals tipped with yellow.

“I dozed off.”

“My apologies.” He put the lily on her nightstand, flashing a charming smile. “For you.”

“It is beautiful. Thank you.” She touched the velvety petals. “What is it?”

“A lion-heart lily, a species from East Asia.” He flashed a boyish smile. “I was lucky to find them in London.”

“Impressive.”

“I’ll put it in a vase.”

She watched him as he walked around the room to take a vase and fill it with water. His expression was completely serene, which made her think she had never seen him so calm and happy.

Even during those months they’d spent together, tension had always bothered him, but now he was a different man. His rich brown dressing gown also added to the simple domestic night.

The candlelight played on the dark petals, igniting them with a warm glow.

“There.” He placed the vase on her nightstand. “I just wanted you to sleep with a beautiful flower next to you.”

“Will you stay here?” Her heart was torn in two. She wanted him to spend the night with her, but at the same time, she wasn’t strong enough to do much aside from sleeping.

“Do you want me to?” He perched on the edge of the bed.

She hesitated to answer only because she wasn’t sure how she could express herself without sounding petulant.

“I don’t want to cause you more problems. Quite the opposite. I want to be someone who can help you solve them.” He patted her hand. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please stay.” She lifted the covers. “But I would really like to sleep only.”

He frowned. Then the lines on his brow smoothed. “Of course.” He removed his dressing gown and slid under the covers.

The moment he wrapped his arms around her, instant safety enveloped her. She hadn’t felt so safe in years. Her back rested against his chest, and his powerful arms formed a protective cocoon around her. She closed her eyes with the scent of the lily in the air.

A thud woke her up with a jolt. She flung her eyes open and sat bolt upright. The thud came again, like a fist hitting something.

“Samuel?” She touched around the nightstand until she managed to light a lamp.

Samuel was thrashing around in the bed. His clenched fists would hit the bedhead and the bedpost, causing the bed to shake. Low noises full of pain came out of him.

“Samuel.” She shook his arm gently. “Wake up.”

He flung his eyes open, panting. He gazed around as if he didn’t recognise the room.

“A nightmare?” She caressed his shaking shoulder.

He crushed her into a tight hug, seeking comfort. She hugged him back and drew circles on his back.

“I know. I know.”

He shivered. She kept stroking his back until his breathing calmed down. When he released her, she breathed better.

“Did I give you a fright?” he asked with trembling fingers as if he were stuttering.

“Don’t worry. Does it happen often?”

He raked a hand through his messy curls. “Sometimes. I got better. At first, the nightmares happened every night more than once. Now they’re rarer but powerful. Learning Murdock has been so close to you all these years triggered my nightmares again. I hate feeling powerless.”

“You seemed in pain.”

“I was.” He shoved the covers aside. “I’ll let you sleep. You’re too tired to have to deal with my problems.”

“No, stay.” She took his hand and tugged at it.

The pain in his gaze made her regret her insistence. Perhaps he wished to be alone.

She let go of his hand. “If you want, of course.”

“I don’t want to disturb you. I’d better go to my bedroom.”

“I’m fine.”

“Goodnight.” He kissed her hand and left.

She lay down, touching his side of the bed still warm and smelling of bergamot, wishing she could be able to chase his shadows away.