I'm still planning on e-publishing
Viridis in the upcoming weeks, but wanted to give you a sneak peek. Above is also the final cover. It feels like this has been a long journey, and I'll admit, I'm a bit nervous to take this next step. Can't move forward though if you're not willing to take a risk. I do hope you'll enjoy.
Viridis by Calista Taylor
Chapter One
London, January 1866
The body lay as it
had fallen, the man’s limbs bent at awkward angles. Holding the lantern out to shed light onto
the scene, Inspector William Thomas crouched down, careful to avoid the pool of
blood that had frozen onto the cobbles.
Shifting the body over, he made note that the blood beneath had not yet had
a chance to ice. The man couldn’t have
been dead more than a few hours. Any
longer, and he’d have been stripped of any valuables, the harsh cold being the
only thing to keep the street urchins at bay thus far.
Looking around the
dark alley, there was little evidence to be had, other than the body
itself. No signs that a struggle had
ensued. Nothing left behind. It must have been done quick and with
surprise, since a young man like this would be apt to put up a fight.
Even through the dim
flickering lantern light, William was able to identify the killing blow as
having come from a fuse gun, the burn in the fabric and the hole of singed
flesh all the evidence he needed. At
least his death would have come quick, a small mercy.
The man’s face had
frozen into one of shock. It was still a
beautiful face even in death, framed by locks of gold, youthful, with a strong
jaw.
Someone would be
missing this man come morning. By the
cut and quality of the cloth he wore, it was certain this was a man of
wealth. The poor went missing and dead
too often for most to notice or care. It
was a cruel injustice, but that did not change the reality of the matter.
“Do we have any
identification?” William turned to the
constable who had found the body during his rounds.
“That we do, Inspector, and
it’s not likely you’re going to have an easy night of it. According to the calling card found on his
person, this is Lord Niles Hawthorne.”
The constable handed it to him.
“A bit out of his way to be
wandering into this part of town. More
than likely he’d been over to Viridis.
No other reason to be in this part of the city.”
Viridis was a dinner
theatre and club offering a drink by the same name. Lady Phoebe Hughes had developed the strong
distillation from a variety of plant essences, and as of late, more and more of
London’s elite were turning to the newly developed herbal for refreshment and
escape. Viridis offered all the best
traits of intoxication—and then some— with none of the undesirable side effects. Indeed, the club Viridis had been designed
with London’s elite in mind, offering them not only a fashionable and
entertaining destination, but also one that managed to retain a sense of
respectability and decorum, despite the nature of the herbal, which once
consumed, was rumored to have the effect of an aphrodisiac.
William could see the
attraction. Physically, the herbal did
not make one susceptible to dependency.
However, that was not to say one did not develop a mental predilection
for the euphoria and heightened senses it brought on, both mentally and
physically. And it was the physical
effect of the drink that attracted so many followers. It was rumored that when
Viridis was taken in its undiluted form, an orgasm could be brought on by a
single kiss.
With so many of influence
frequenting the club, the local authorities had been willing to overlook its
rather salacious, yet tasteful reputation, but with a murder only blocks from
Viridis’ doorsteps, William would need to take a much closer look at the club
and its proprietress.
It was high time William
paid Lady Phoebe Hughes a visit.
Chapter Two
Lady Phoebe Hughes moved
through the club, greeting her customers and making sure they were enjoying
themselves. The second show of the
night— far more risqué than anything else in London— had just gotten underway
and nearly all the tables were filled with London’s elite, men and women
alike.
She had made the club as
extravagant as time and money had allowed— gilded chandeliers above, rococo
carved furnishings, and exquisite Persian rugs below— offering the nobility of
London a place to come and dine while watching a bit of entertainment, not too
unlike what one would find in Paris.
Though the theater and show allowed the ladies some semblance of an
acceptable façade, the true reason they came was for her herbal concoction,
Viridis, which had become all the rage among London society.
Though she had originally
developed the herbal to lift one’s mood, she had not anticipated the scope of
its effects. Once consumed, it induced a certain euphoria, heightening the
senses and making skin sensitive to the touch, leaving a person acutely aware
of their carnal needs.
Satisfied that things were running smoothly,
Phoebe headed to the Sanctorum—a private area reserved for her best customers,
connected to the front of the club by a wide corridor. She had spared no expense in this room, and though it had been
dear, it had paid for itself in short time.
Reminiscent of a gentlemen’s
club, the Sanctorum was a large sitting room, comfortably outfitted with plenty
of areas for relaxation, including large
comfortable chairs and a roaring fire, which
bathed everything in a gilded light. It
was a casual atmosphere affording a more intimate environment away from the
theater. It was in this private area that her most elite customers congregated,
and though the theatergoers had access to Viridis, it was only in this part of
the club that one gained access to the stronger version of the drink.
Beyond the Sanctorum,
Phoebe had added yet another area which housed private rooms, enabling one to
seek a clandestine rendezvous. The entrance was hidden by an optical diffuser,
a tinkering that allowed one to pass through unnoticed. She thought of the tinkerer who’d drawn up
the original plans for the diffuser, and her heart ached at the memory of
him. He had left over a year ago, and
she’d been forced to hire another tinkerer to build it.
A long mahogany bar
occupied the far corner of the sitting room and was currently being run by her
younger brother, Gabriel, who chatted with his patrons, entertaining them as he
poured their drinks. He was the only
family she had left. Their mother had
died when she had been just ten, with her father dying several years later of a
broken heart. Then there was their
sister, Imogene, gone just over a year.
They only had each other now.
He nodded to her in
acknowledgment, and she could not help but smile at his handsome face. Just a few years younger than herself at
three and twenty, running the club would have been impossible if not for his
constant help.
She approached the bar with
a smile, but grew wary when her brother’s eyes darted around the room, a sigh
escaping his lips. “What is it, love?”
Gabriel reached out and
gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“Phoebe…” He gave his head a
shake, then looked up at her with a hint of smile. “There’s someone here to see you.” He motioned with a tilt of the head and a
sparkle in his eyes to the gentleman sitting by the fire.
Though the man’s back was
to her and she could only see his luscious chestnut locks, she knew, without a
single doubt in her mind, that it was he.
It had been over a year since she had last seen him, over a year since
his duty to the Cause had called him away. And now he was here. Her tinkerer.
Her chest tightened and her
heart picked up its pace, thundering away against her ribcage. She glanced at Gabriel, steeled herself with
a deep breath, and moved across the room on wobbly legs, her pulse deafening
inside her head. She closed the distance
between them quickly, scarcely acknowledging the friendly greetings of her
regular customers as she passed, her focus on him complete.
She reached out, her hand
hovering above his shoulder, not sure she could touch him without having her
heart stop. Before she could muster the
courage, he turned around, his eyes locking on hers.
“Phoebe.” He stood to greet her, but took no more than
a step towards her.
“Seth.” Her mouth had suddenly gone dry, her heart
tripping over itself. How she wished he
didn’t have this affect on her. “I hadn’t
realized you had returned.” She was
barely able to get the words out.
“Just this morning. Please, sit with me. It’s been too long.” He motioned to the vacant chair across from
him, sitting back in his own.
Phoebe fell into the chair
before her legs gave out, her corset the only thing keeping her upright. She was unable to look at him without being
flooded with memories of their nights together, of his touch, and of the dark
days after her sister’s death when no one—not even Seth—could reach her.
Soon after their father’s
death, Imogene had become plagued by melancholy and Phoebe had spent countless
hours in her father’s abandoned laboratory, desperate to develop an herbal cure
that would help her save her.
Unfortunately, Phoebe’s breakthrough had come only months too late. By
the time the formula had been perfected, Imogene had already taken her own life.
“You look beautiful, Phoebe.” He moved to the edge of his chair, and
reached out to take her hand in his. “Do
you know how I’ve missed you? There
wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think of you.”
Though she wanted nothing
more than to sink into his arms and forget how desperately alone she’d been
this last year, she yanked her hand away, her anger and hurt getting the best
of her. “How dare you! How dare you say
you’ve missed me. You left me, Seth. Left me when I needed you most.” All of
the emotions she’d kept bottled up for so long came flooding back, and she had
to blink away the tears that threatened.
He flinched at her
words. “You know that’s not the reality of
it. It killed me to leave you the way I
did.” He reached out to her again, but
stopped just short of touching her.
“My sister had just died,
but your assignment for the Cause took precedence. It always has, and I know
now that it always will— which is fine, but let’s not pretend, Seth. I know
your priorities.”
“Phoebe, please. I would have stayed if I could have, but you
know I was the only one who could have fixed the geostat on such short notice.
You know how important it was to get it back up and running.”
Seth was a brilliant
tinkerer—one of the many reasons Phoebe had fallen in love with him. The
geostat was one of Seth’s most innovative tinkerings, bringing much needed
income to the Cause by making the mining of the arctic Outlands a
possibility.
Controlled by the Cause,
the Outlands were located so far to the north that water and land iced to
become one. While the earth in the
Outlands was rich, the severe weather conditions had made mining previously
impossible. Only Seth’s geostat was
capable of digging through the hardest earth and working in the harshest
conditions.
Tinkerers were incredibly
important to the Cause, for it was through their innovations that they sought
to better the lives of the people, working for the good of all mankind. Though she had always done all she
could to help the Cause, Phoebe did not always agree with the methods and
demands made by those running things, and felt they often asked too much from
those willing to help—too much from men like Seth.
Seth got out of his seat
and knelt in front of her, pulling her fighting hands into his. Phoebe allowed herself a moment to really look
at him. His hair was disheveled, longer
than he usually wore it, and he had lost some weight since she had last seen
him, his muscular form now leaner, more hardened than it had been when he’d
left. But his eyes were still the deep
blue-green of a tropical lagoon, intelligent and kind, promising far too much.
How she wanted to just
throw her arms around his neck and bury herself in his warmth, breathe in his
scent. But she feared it would always
end the same way, with him abandoning her to go save the world. So she held fast to her convictions, and
gingerly removed her hands from his. “I do not know if I can do this
again. Things have changed since you
left.”
He retreated to his chair,
giving her the space she needed.
“Yes. I can see that. Congratulations on your success. It’s well deserved. I know how hard you worked on it.”
“Thank you. You know, it probably would have never
happened if it hadn’t been for your help.
Have you had a chance to try it?
It’s quite good actually.” She
gave him a bit of a smile, as the initial shock of seeing him wore off and her
heart slowed its gallop. She told
herself she would be fine if she could only manage to avoid discussing their
relationship.
“Not yet, but I was hoping
you would join me.” He raised his
eyebrows in question.
“Of course.” Phoebe caught the attention of one of her
girls. “From my private reserve,
please.” She could not help but notice Seth’s eyes go wide for just a moment as
he took in the girl’s uniform before quickly looking away, a blush creeping
across his cheeks. Though the waitress’s
outfits were tasteful and elegant, they did run towards the provocative.
With the girl gone, they
sat in silence, just taking in one another while they waited, getting used to
being in each other’s company once again.
It was not long before the young woman returned, wheeling a small cart
before her. She greeted them with a
small curtsey.
“Thank you, Maggie,” Phoebe
said, by way of dismissal. She picked
up the small, dark green bottle and poured a thimble-sized amount into two
slender crystal glasses. The liquid was
slightly viscous, and just the palest of greens. “From my own personal supply. Normally we dilute the strength, and though
this still isn’t at full concentration, it’s not too far from it.” Handing him a glass, she said, “Welcome back,
Seth.”
He lifted his glass to
hers, and she watched as he took a tentative sip. “You are right. It is quite good.” He took another sip, and then smiled. “A little different from your earlier formulations.”
Phoebe thanked him before
bringing her own drink to her lips. There was only a hint of bitterness, with
dominant notes of citrus and herb. It
was slightly sweet, and it went down with an alcoholic burn that sent a warm
heat through her body. She did not often
drink Viridis herself.
Although the side
effects of the drink were limited, it did seem to make one susceptible to an
overly rosy view of things, and the other lustier characteristics of the herbal
did not lend themselves overly when one did not have an outlet for release.
She knew that in ten minutes time that heat would turn into a mellow
euphoria, sending tingles across her skin, leaving it sensitive enough that the
mere breath of one’s lover could ignite passions.
“So are you going to tell me
of your adventures? It must have been
exciting over in the Outlands.” When he
was assigned the mission, she’d begged him to take her with him, wanting only
to escape her anguish over her sister’s death, but he had refused, claiming the
conditions to be too harsh for her to endure.
“I wouldn’t have called it
exciting. Nothing but metal and grime,
barely another soul to be found. It’s
just too cold for most humans and even the steam techs have problems when they
go up to the surface for any length of time.
Actually, it was Gavin that brought me back on his airship. He sends his regards.”
“Gavin?” Though she could not help but smile at the
thought of their dear friend, she also could not stop her pulse from picking up
its pace. When he had last visited her some six months ago, their visit had
ended badly. “It’s been months since I
saw him last. I do hope he’s well. He’s always taking on such dangerous cargo
runs. I always fear he’ll run into some
difficulty.”
Fearless and accomplished,
Gavin flew when others refused—whether it be horrible weather conditions,
territories at war or precious cargo—he was one of the most sought after
airship captains. Gavin never shied away from a perilous situation, and had a
knack for always landing on his feet.
“He always manages, does he
not?” Seth said with a smile. “He’ll be
staying in London for a bit, so I trust he’ll show up around here at some point
or another. Seth took another sip of his
drink and then gave his head a shake.
“This is something powerful, Phoebe.
No wonder you cut its strength,” he said, his eyes intense, sparkling.
Phoebe nodded in agreement,
feeling her shoulders relax. Drinking Viridis with Seth probably wasn’t the
wisest of decisions. Inventing the drink had not made her immune to its
effects, and Phoebe felt her resolve to keep her distance from him melting
away. The room was suddenly much too warm, her garments far too restrictive,
and her breath so shallow she felt she might faint. Each pounding beat of her
heart sent a pulse of need through her very core.
“I’ve missed you, Seth.” The words were out
before she could stop herself. She inwardly scolded herself for being weak and
looked down at the glass in her hands.
“You could have written, you know.”
He sat forward on the edge
of his seat, only a breath away. “By the
gods, Phoebe, do ye not think I would have written or called if it were at all
a possibility? You know the Aether is
weak that far north, making communication an impossibility.” A faint Scottish lilt crept into his voice,
as it always did when his emotions were running high or when he let his guard
down. How she had missed it. The pain in his voice and the pleading in
his eyes tore at her defenses, and she reached for his hand as he asked, “Do ye
not know how hard it was to leave ye here?”
“Is this gentleman
bothering you, Phoebe?” A cold, familiar
voice came from behind them, cutting through the warm effects of the Viridis,
sending a shard of panic through her heart.
“Victor,” she stood and
forced a smile. “Thank you, but no. Everything is fine here.”
The last person she wanted
to see was Lord Victor Fenwick— especially with Seth present. In Seth’s
absence, Phoebe had no other amorous ties, and Victor had started courting her
soon after she opened her club, even going as far as asking Gabriel for her
hand in marriage. Gabriel had made it
clear it was her decision to make, which only made Victor more persistent in
his pursuit.
Seth also stood, the crease
in his brow making it clear he was unhappy about the interruption. Phoebe made the introductions. “Lord Victor Fenwick, Mr. Seth Elliott.”
Though they were both exceptionally handsome, they couldn’t have been
more different. Seth was tall, lean and muscular. His dark hair was long enough
to brush his collar, his strong jaw clean-shaven. Though not born into a family
of wealth, Seth’s brilliant work as a philanthropist and tinkerer had elevated
his status in society—one of the reasons the Cause found him so valuable
Where
Seth was tall, dark, and lean, Victor was shorter and brawnier of build, his
strong cheekbones framed by his well-trimmed blonde beard. As part of a family
prominent in London society, Victor was more concerned with wealth, status, and
power than the well-being of others.
The two gentlemen glowered
at one another, towering over Phoebe’s petite frame like two dogs fighting over
their turf. Victor spoke first, his
voice a growl. “I have not seen you at
Viridis before, Mr. Elliott. I must
confess to spending a fair amount of time here, as I’m never able to go very
long without paying dear Phoebe a visit.”
Seth smiled at Victor, his
gaze sharp and unwavering. “It is true.
I have only just returned from a trip abroad, though I consider myself
lucky to be familiar with both Phoebe and her curious herbal, having had the
pleasure of helping her with her endeavor.”
Turning to Phoebe with a smile, he took her hand in his. “Indeed I do not think I’ll ever forget the
effect that very first batch had on me— or you as I recall.”
Phoebe blushed crimson at
the memory. Indeed, it was that first
batch that led to the discovery of the true effects of Viridis and the rumor
amongst London society that the herbal could bring on an orgasm with a single
kiss.
When Gabriel waved her
over, she was relieved to have an excuse to leave. Between the effects of the drink, the
memories of Seth, and the two men hovering over her, it was all too much for
her to handle.
“I’m terribly sorry, but my
brother is hailing me. If you will both
excuse me, I do hope you will enjoy the rest of your evening.” Then without waiting for a response, she
walked back to the bar on still-wobbly legs.
“That was looking like a precarious situation
you had gotten yourself into.” Gabriel
gave her a crooked smile, making him all the more handsome, his dark curls
bringing out the blue of his eyes.
“I cannot thank you enough
for your help. I think it has left me
feeling a bit drained, though. I’m going
to retire for the evening, if you think you can manage things here.”
“You know that’s never a
problem, love. Truth of the matter is,
you have the place so well-staffed, it could run itself without either of us
here. Your escape, however, might not be
so easily made.” He motioned behind her
with his chin.
She turned just in time to
see Seth approaching, her pulse becoming erratic as he neared.
“Let me at least see you
home, Phoebe.” The gentle pleading in
his voice tore at her few remaining defenses.
Victor stood where she’d
left him, his thick arms folded across his chest, his mouth set into a thin
line. But her attention strayed only for
a moment— Seth was too close, his scent too familiar.
Unable to resist him any
longer, she gave Seth a nod of agreement, despite the fact that she could still
feel Victor’s gaze upon her. She knew he
was not a man she should anger, but she had never returned his advances, though
he was always showing up at the club, bringing her small gifts. Perhaps this would finally make it clear that
she had no interest in him romantically, even if she felt just a little guilty,
wondering if she had inadvertently encouraged him in some way.
Seth took her hand in his,
his touch pulling her from her thoughts. He brought it to his lips before
tucking it in the crook of his elbow, a smile on his face, his eyes dancing in
the dim lamplight. Her pulse raced as
she walked out of the room on his arm, hoping she would not later regret her
decision, for even though she had not said a word, already she could feel her
heart surrendering to him.
