Chapter Thirty
In all her life of privilege, Augusta had never once been hit.
Therefore, she did not realize just how much it would hurt when the officer’s hand struck her, a lightning strike cracking down upon her face so hard that she fell to the ground.
Neither did she realize how crushingly painful it would be when he pushed his weight upon her back, nor how cold and unforgiving the handcuffs might be.
She bloody well knew it now.
She also now knew other things - how hard it was to sit in a carriage whilst handcuffed. How to be processed as a prisoner. What the inside of a jail cell looked like.
“You’ll be given your own, for now,” the officer said as he guided her into the dank, dark space, tucked away into an alcove in a quieter part of the prison.
He was not the man who had hit her, though he’d witnessed the scene. He looked at her almost apologetically when he slid the bars of her cell shut, locking her fate as a criminal in place. “They said you’re a viscountess.”
She nodded, unsure of what to say to that. She had never been one to throw her weight around with titles to get what she wanted, though she supposed that if a cell must be her destiny, then a private one was at least some small grace.
“They’re bringing your husband in soon.”
Augusta perked up at that. She had not seen Sebastian since sharing a singular look with him whilst the both of them were pinned to the frozen ground. After being hauled away to the police carriage, she’d not known his outcome.
She’d known it wouldn’t be good, though. Whatever wildness had overtaken him, the man had practically lost his mind when he’d hit the officer who struck her. It had left no doubt in her mind whether he, too, would be brought in.
What did surprise her was how much she longed for his company in this sullen, grave place.
There was nowhere to sit in the cell. The floor was not so primitive as to be dirt, as she’d always assumed cells would have, but the wood was dark and smelled of piss.
She did not wish to come more in contact with it then she had to, so she remained standing, pacing the small space like an animal in a cage.
Some time went by. However long, she was not certain. The walls began to blend together as she paced. She bit her nails until she had no nails left to bite.
She heard a familiar voice, then - the very voice that had gotten her into this mess in the first place. As Amelia was marched down the hall, her words echoed around Augusta’s cell.
“...my rights as a citizen of this country, I assure you…”
Furious though she was at the woman for instigating such a brutal fight with the officers, Augusta found herself cracking the smallest smile.
Then, immediately, wincing in pain. She’d known from the worsening throb in her cheek that the officer’s hit had left a mark, but had not yet seen the extent of its damage.
They did not have powder rooms in prison.
“Augusta.”
She snapped to attention. Her husband’s worried voice preceded the deep concern etched into his features as he entered the alcove where her cell was kept.
She nearly gasped when she saw the dried blood that smeared from his broken, fattening lip up to his ear, contrasting with the bruising around his eye.
“Sebastian,” she breathed, finding that she did not have any more words to offer.
Sebastian was flanked by two officers, who handled him with far less grace than Augusta’s own officer had. They each gripped a forearm, their mouths cast into firm lines as they guided him over to the cell door.
“Stand back,” one of the officers barked at Augusta.
She listened, stepping back further into the cell. The officer slid the bars open once more, only to push Sebastian inside and slam it shut with a terrible clang.
“Dear,” Sebastian said, hurrying up to her. His eyes landed upon her cheek and he grimaced at the sight, confirming Augusta’s suspicion that she indeed did look wretched after being hit.
“They’ve sent away for someone,” one of the officers said. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon to post bail for the lot of you.”
Reginald, no doubt. Augusta’s stomach sank at the idea of him finding her here; and yet, without him, she and Sebastian would never make it past those bars again. It was a necessary evil.
The officers disappeared back into the hallway.
Sebastian turned back to her. His hand raised to touch the wound on her face, then stopped just shy of making contact.
“Does it hurt terribly?” he asked.
She shook her head, deciding that a white lie would not be so awful. She did not want him to fret. Strangely, despite all that had happened, she wanted to find her comfort in him, to celebrate with him, to know precisely what he’d thought of everything up until the moment of the police arriving.
“I’m sure I look wretched,” she said. “It only aches a little.” After a moment, she exhaled a small laugh. “Hurt damned good when it happened, though.”
Sebastian seemed to pale a little at the memory. “I want to see that man hang.”
“I myself would prefer it if he did not. Though I wouldn’t mind if perhaps his horse stepped on his foot or something.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her sudden good humor, then smiled, seemingly against all odds. “I’m sure I can arrange that, too.”
They fell into another short silence as the sound of heavy footsteps passed by in the hall outside, reminding them once again of their dire circumstances.
“I am so sorry that it ended like this,” Sebastian said, his voice quieter than she had ever heard it before.
Augusta didn’t quite know what to say to that. What exactly could one say when they found themselves imprisoned with the person who had become their everything? Their tormenter. Their lover. The only person in the world whose approval they wanted.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, as if that could somehow salvage her appearance. “It may be a little gauche to ask this now, but…how was I?”
Sebastian’s laugh was sudden and booming. Evidently, she’d surprised him. He threw his hands up, the final gesture of a man so absolutely destitute that there was nothing left to do but laugh and tell the truth.
“You were…amazing. Good enough to break the law.”
“You think so? About the law, I mean? I think I’d be crushed if nothing changed from this.”
Sebastian thought on that for a bit. “The law is strange. Things don’t always have a clear cause and effect. But if something ever does happen for the Society or for medicine, then no one will ever be able to say that Lady Brightwater did not contribute.”
And that…well, damnit, that was just exactly the right thing to say.
Augusta, so quickly overwhelmed with an emotion toward her husband that terrified her - that sinking, encompassing love, that stupid, blinding affection that had gotten her into the worst predicament of her life - that she turned away from Sebastian and took a few steps.
She’d felt it at the rally, lying on the ground and looking over at him, but they’d been in the open, where the heat of her feelings could dissipate into the cold winter air.
Here, the room was too thick with it all.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stave off the insanity of falling for the man who had so thoroughly destroyed her.
And yet, that was where this was headed. She had kicked and screamed against it, staying focused on the speech, but now it stared her in the face: she was married to Sebastian Brightwater, and she would fall in love with him again. Perhaps she was already in love with him.
“Since it appears I finally have you as a captive audience,” came Sebastian’s voice, his tone cautious, “I’d just like to say that, erm, well, I did love you.
Do love you. Early on, it was a lie, but now I don’t believe that any man could spend the kind of time with you that I have and not fall in love.
That is why I was so upset with the Doctor, I think.
I felt that he’d taken your time from me, and if he had your time, then it must mean that he loved you, too. ”
Were she reading this in a novel, Augusta may have laughed at such a convoluted way of thinking. Hearing it said aloud - and to herself, no less - left her with that sensation of falling deep, deep, deep into something bottomless.
“I don’t know if I can believe it right away.” Even admitting that made her feel weak, but it also lifted a burden from her that she had not even realized she’d been carrying around.
“I understand. I know that I have a ways to go before my words mean anything to you, but I can’t seem to stop myself from saying them anyways.”
She had to be brave. She had to face him. In a rush, she turned back, and in doing so, caught the expression of absolute dejection upon his face before he composed himself.
“I think, when we do get out of here, I might quite like our time up north together.” It was the most that she was willing to put on the table for him.
One might think that she had handed him the world. He suppressed a smile that reminded Augusta just how handsome he was, when she did not hate him.
“If I kissed you right now, would you hit me?” Sebastian asked. “I might do it even if you do hit me, but it would hurt quite badly right now, and I’d like to be prepared.”
“If you could refrain, that would be nice, old chap,” came Reginald’s dry voice from outside the cell.
Augusta jumped at the sound of it. She had not noticed her brother approaching, and his presence broke whatever spell her husband had cast upon her, for she had just decided that if he did kiss her, she would not hit him.
“Oh, Reginald,” she sighed in relief. “Are you here to bring us home?”
“Yes, much to my surprise.” After a long-suffering sigh, he added, “I just paid for your bail, they’ll be here in a few moments with the keys.”
“Thank goodness,” Sebastian said. “Then we can go home and wash this place off of ourselves.”
“Not so,” Reginald said curtly, casting a deadly look at his friend. “The three of us will be going straight to the train station and heading north. I’ve already got both of our staff packing our bags, they will meet us there.”
He fixed his eyes upon Augusta then and added, “Word has already spread of the rogue viscountess in prison.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly rogue,” she protested. “Lord Bancroft was there, too.”
“Oh, I am quite aware. I heard him ranting at the guards all the way from the lobby. His cousin will be here soon to post his bail. I could do it for him, but frankly I think it’s good for him to have a little time to sit and think, let the piss of this place really get on his clothes.”
Before Augusta or Sebastian could say anything more, an officer appeared, dangling keys from his hand.
Wordlessly, he unlocked the cell and swung the door open, gesturing for the two of them to step out.
Augusta was about to hurry when she felt something in her hand. Looking down, she saw that Sebastian had taken her hand in his, firmly, claiming ownership of his ‘rogue’ wife.
She said nothing, but warmth bloomed in her chest, and it felt quite like floating as the two of them exited the jail cell.
At the lobby, Sebastian paused. Casting a look back at Augusta, he stepped away, heading toward the front desk.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To pay bail,” he said over his shoulder.
“Whose?”
“Everyone else’s.”
God. She was already falling in love with him.