Whispers in the Reading Room (31 page)

But there was something about Sebastian Marks that made her want to do things that weren’t proper. She felt like she was living for the first time when she was with him. Instead of merely reading about things in her safe library world, she was collecting memories to hold close to her heart forever more.

“I would love to step inside,” she said at last.

“I confess that I’m surprised. But I’m very glad as well.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

She slid her gloved hand into his and let herself be guided through an opening in the chain-link fence. Then he pulled her alongside the Manufacturers building.

Tall and imposing, it loomed above them. A shiver rushed through her as she became more aware of just how isolated they were.
In a city like Chicago, where hundreds if not thousands of people were working and living together in each city block, the sheer fact that they were completely alone was hard to fathom.

“Wait here,” he murmured as he let go of her hand, then tried the handle of the door in front of them. “Hmm. Last time I was here this door was unlocked.”

Nerves set in. “Perhaps we should leave?”

“Of course not.” Smiling at her, he gave the door a push. When it didn’t budge, he simply kicked it in.

She gasped and looked around in alarm. She half expected police officers or security guards to come running.

“Don’t worry. I promise there’s no one here.” He wiggled his fingers. “Let’s go.”

She had no choice. With great reluctance—and a secret amount of excitement—she walked toward him and stepped inside.

And entered what she could only describe as a magical, mysterious world.

The cavernous space was so very large. Easily the size of a city block. And though she’d been inside before, it had felt cozier when surrounded by hundreds of people and artifacts from all over the country.

Now only the remnants remained. Abandoned boxes, empty wooden crates, sawdust, chunks of plaster. Debris littered the floor.

“It’s quite the place now, isn’t it?” Sebastian asked. His eyes glowed.

She realized he was enjoying the wickedness of it all. He liked that they were somewhere forbidden. He liked that they were standing somewhere that broke every rule of both society and its laws.

As for her?

She liked it too.

After a lifetime of merely existing in her world of books, she liked actually living.

“It is wondrous,” she replied.

He looked like he was on the verge of chuckling. Obviously, her wonder pleased him. “Wait until you see what’s over here. Come along.”

She followed him down one of the aisles. She couldn’t resist peeking at the remainders of various exhibits.

Then, situated in the far corner of the building was the most surprising sight. The Yerkes telescope, some of which lay on the ground in pieces. Next to it were a number of wooden crates filled with shredded paper and more assorted parts of the telescope. During a previous visit, she’d learned that the telescope was the largest in the world. It had been built on two axles so it could be rotated to point in multiple directions. She’d seen it in its glory. But now, seeing it in sections on the ground? It seemed even bigger.

Sebastian motioned her forward, suddenly looking like a child on Christmas morning. “You want to touch it?”

“We aren’t allowed. It is a frightfully expensive invention.” She remembered hearing that Mr. Yerkes had donated the frightful sum of five hundred thousand dollars to the University of Chicago for its construction. She was amazed that it was still in the abandoned building.

“No one is here to see, Lydia. Do what you want.”

She tentatively ran a finger along the smooth steel but was unable to do anything beyond that. “It’s too valuable and special, Sebastian. I simply can’t.”

Instead of pushing her further, he stepped away. “Come, let’s explore some more.”

And that they did. He showed her the remnants of the displays from Brazil, Austria, Japan, and Russia, as well as from various other countries around the world. Some exhibits were stripped bare. Others were still filled with cases and assorted tools. One case was still completely full, looking as if its workers had merely stepped out for lunch.

She fingered the cloth draping the table. “Thank you for bringing me here, Sebastian. This is a day I will never forget.”

“Nor I.”

He held out his arm, his expression soft. She could tell he was so very gratified that he’d pleased her.

And that knowledge made her optimistic for the first time since he’d announced his intention that they marry. “Sebastian, do you think this will be our life when we’re married?”

“Touring abandoned buildings? I think not.”

“No. I mean the two of us exploring together.”

“I want to make you happy. If you want to explore new things, I think we should.” He held out his arm for her to grasp. After she did, he continued talking as they walked, wandering along abandoned aisles like they were strolling along a beautiful boulevard. “You haven’t asked, but I will tell you that you will never have to worry about money again. I have enough to let you follow any whim you might have. We can travel, if that is something that interests you.”

Of course it interested her. She ached to see the world. Now that she was becoming used to the idea of actually participating in adventures instead of reading about them, she ached to experience everything she could.

But she didn’t want to do it at his expense. “Does it interest you?”

“Being by your side interests me. We can have a good life together, Lydia. It might not be the life you intended, but perhaps it will be a better one.”

“I suppose I shall have to get used to being the wife of a notorious club owner,” she said, in jest of course. She didn’t care what he did for a living. Not really.

“I’ve been thinking about that. Perhaps it is time to make a change.”

“Change, how?”

“I must still own my club, but I am thinking of closing down the gambling part of the operation.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“It is illegal to gamble, Lydia.”

“But hasn’t it always been that way?”

“The police never cared about my business. They’ve always had bigger fish to fry, what with the Slasher and the fair and the immigrants coming into the city like flocks of birds. But with a new century upon us, and the police force becoming stronger, I fear circumstances will be changing. There’s a very good chance the police won’t feel free to turn a blind eye on my club for much longer.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“You suppose?” He raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought you would have been excited about this. Don’t you want a husband you can be proud of?”

“I never intended to change you. I already feel guilty about you having to marry me, Sebastian.”

“There is nothing to be guilty about.”

“I forced my way into your club.”

“I allowed you. You have to know by now that I rarely do anything I don’t want to.”

“But still . . .”

“I am happy about our pairing, Lydia. Allow me to be happy.”

She smiled at him, her heart warming. He was right. She needed to look forward to their future. Imagine a life together filled with books and adventures. And happiness. “You are right. Of course I want you to be happy.”

His lips curved. Just before his expression turned cold.

“Sebastian? What—”

The rest of her words were cut off by a hand at her neck. She
cried out—and attempted to turn—but the ruffian behind her simply increased his pressure on her throat.

“Say another word, and it will be your last,” a harsh voice whispered into her ear.

She realized then that she couldn’t say a word. She couldn’t say a thing. Because then she realized Sebastian had just fallen to the ground, bleeding.

And then she felt a harsh grip, a sting in her arm, and then nothing at all as she, too, fell to the cement floor of the impressive Manufacturers and Liberal Arts building.

Where no one was supposed to be.

And where no one knew they were.

S
ebastian awoke with a start. Clawing the floor underneath him, he attempted to pull himself up.

Only to receive a hand pressed to the middle of his upper body.

“Don’t move, sir,” a uniformed policeman ordered as he continued to press a cloth against Sebastian’s chest. “We’ve got a physician on his way.”

“Lydia?” He craned his neck in a poor attempt to find her. Unfortunately, his head was pounding with such force he felt almost blinded by the action. “Where is she?”

“Lydia?” the officer asked. “Sir, is she the lady you were with?”

“Yes,” he bit out impatiently. “I am speaking of Lydia Bancroft. My fiancée.”

“We found her as well. She is doing a sight better than you.” He frowned. “The bullet only grazed her arm.”

For the first time in his very long life, Sebastian feared he was on the verge of losing all control. Though his head was aching and he could feel the sting of the multiple knife wounds on his chest and leg, only one fearful word penetrated his brain. “Bullet?”

The officer winced. “Sorry for my, uh, blunt way of speaking,
sir. I was under the impression that you’d seen she’d been only grazed before you passed out.”

“No.” Literally, even uttering that one word was a challenge.

The young officer, his face a myriad of pockmarks and freckles, looked abashed. Then, as if he was remembering his position, he gathered himself. “From what we can discern, sir, some gang probably attacked you both. By the looks of your clothes, I’m assuming you was taken to be an easy mark. And you might notice any watch and wallet are gone, sir. So is your lady’s purse.”

He frowned as he continued, traces of his Irish accent coming through. “Don’t feel bad, sir. The gangs loitering about here are some hardened sorts. Criminals, they are. Nothing a gentleman like you would be used to.”

Each word was an insult.

It seemed as if his transformation was complete. He was now an easy mark. A target. Useless. The very idea made him want to hit something. Made him yearn to curse a blue streak. He might have if his head wasn’t pounding, his shirt wasn’t stained with blood, or he wasn’t being looked after by a youthful policeman who was so green he didn’t even realize he was staring at the infamous Sebastian Marks.

If there wasn’t one person whose safety overrode all feelings of revenge and anger. Lydia.

“Officer, I need to see Miss Bancroft. Now.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I am. But I have my orders. We can’t risk moving you. Not only are you bleeding something fierce, you’ve received quite the blow to your head, you see.” As he stared at him, the officer swallowed. “You might not even be aware of what you are saying. No offense.”

No offense?
“This is important.” He attempted to say more but the rest of his words became muddled in his head. He reached up to
feel the back of his skull and almost blacked out again from the pain it caused him.

“It’s important you stay still, sir. Your wound’s going to need to be stitched up.” The officer watched him with a look of sympathy. “We were worried that you weren’t going to wake up for a while there.”

“For a while? How long was I unconscious?”

“Can’t rightly say,” he said as he pulled out a timepiece. “We only found you a half hour ago, when one of our group came around on patrol. The woman, I mean Miss Bancroft, was just coming to when we got here. Took us a while to calm her down, it did.”

He’d brought Lydia to this place and had foolishly led her into the abandoned building. Because he’d wanted to entertain her.

No, that was a lie. He’d brought her to the abandoned building because he’d wanted to show off, to show that he could make her happy by doing something daring. She hadn’t wanted to be there, but she’d done it to please him.

To appease him.

He’d known the risks. And instead of heeding them, instead of keeping her safe, he’d let down his guard. And because of that he’d nearly gotten her killed.

But what had happened? Every awful scenario rushed through his head as he imagined her being in pain. And worse, being at the mercy of a gang.

Bracing himself, he pushed up to a sitting position. The new pose pierced his head, making him grimace with unease. Queasiness. With a glare, he grabbed the soiled handkerchief and pressed it to his own chest. “I can see to myself now.”

The officer sighed. “Not hardly. I know you’re impatient, but it’s really better for you if heed my warnings. It’s for your own good, you see.”

“I’d save your breath, Carrew. Sebastian Marks is the last man in Chicago to abide by another’s rules.”

Sebastian saved himself further pain by keeping his head in one place. But he didn’t need to turn his head to know who had just arrived. “Captain Ryan. It seems you are constantly witnessing me at my worst.”

Ryan moved so Sebastian could see him. “I would rather not be seeing you like this, if you want to know the truth. It’s lucky that you’re alive.” He knelt down. “You look pretty bad.”

“I’ll be fine. I need to go check on Miss Bancroft.”

“Howard is with her.”

“I need to see how she is faring.” It was driving him mad to not be able to pick her up and carry her someplace safer.

“I’m afraid you can’t do that.”

“Surely you don’t think I had something to do with this.”

“At last,” Ryan said, standing up. “Doctor, he’s conscious now.”

Sebastian forced himself to lie still when the doc knelt down beside him. “Easy now, Mr. Marks. When I stopped by here a few minutes ago, you were practically dead to the world.”

“As you can see, I am alive. Go attend to Miss Bancroft.”

“I have. She’s going to be fine.”

“She was shot,” he pointed out. Obviously, she was going to be anything but fine.

“It was merely a graze. Little more than a severe burn. I cleaned it well and bandaged her. After a day or two of rest, she will be feeling right as rain.”

He was surrounded by fools. She’d been
attacked
. “Doctor, please help me up. I need to see to her.”