Page 67 of The Housebreaker's Assistant
At last, a driver accepted them and Lord Fabian was piled into the carriage. He settled a bit for the short journey to Tyburnia, then caused another scene when he was moved out of the carriage and into The Zagreus Den.
“You’ve returned,” Caius greeted them at the door, his kind eyes wide with surprise. “And is that Lord Fabian you have with you?”
“We have what’s left of him,” Greer said sadly.
Caius’s expression immediately softened to compassion. “Bring him this way at once. Brutus and Titus are in the banquet hall, but I’ll have them fetched upstairs.”
Grateful beyond telling, Greer followed Caius down the hall, then through a side corridor to another section of the building. They half-carried Lord Fabian up a flight of stairs, then down a second corridor to an empty bedroom.
“Do you require food or medical care?” Caius asked as Greer and Penny brought Lord Fabian over to a simple but soft bed and helped him to lie down there. As soon as he was on the bed, Lord Fabian curled into a tight, trembling ball, crying and squirming restlessly.
“Food. God, yes,” Penny said, sagging back to sit on the end of the bed once Lord Fabian was out of his arms. “And a bed of my own to sleep in for a hundred years.”
He was joking, but Caius nodded and said, “Very good, sir,” then turned to go.
Greer stood where he was, watching Lord Fabian for several long moments. The poor thing was so pitiful that it broke his heart. “Who could do this to another man?” he asked no one in particular.
Part of him wanted to raise a fist to the heavens and demand that whatever god would allow this sort of misery in someone so innocent show himself so that Greer could give him a piece of his mind.
“At least he’s safe now,” Penny said with a sigh, rubbing his hands over his face.
They rested there for no more than a few minutes before there was a knock at the door. Greer, who had sunk into a chair by the window, rose as the door opened. Brutus stepped through, his face a mask of concern. Titus was with him, but so was the enigmatic Valentine, as well as Jonathan Moorgate and his boy, Charlie.
“My God,” Brutus said, pausing in horror at the sight of Lord Fabian, then rushing to the bed to have a closer look. “I knew he was being mistreated, but this is beyond any of the reports that reached my ears.”
“Is he cold?” Titus asked, reaching out to lay a hand on Lord Fabian’s leg. “He’s shaking.”
“No!” Lord Fabian shouted, flailing as he uncurled from his ball and lashed out. “Please, no! Don’t touch me! I don’t want it!”
“There, there,” Brutus said, crouching so his face was more level with Lord Fabian’s. “You’re safe now, Lord Fabian. You’ve been rescued.”
“Please, no!” Lord Fabian began to thrash in a feeble attempt to fight. “Don’t touch me!”
“Fabian,” Brutus said, resting a hand on the young man’s calf.
Lord Fabian sucked in a breath and froze, his eyes going wide as he stared at Brutus. “You,” he whispered at last, then burst into tears.
“You’re safe now,” Brutus said. He looked like he wanted to embrace the man, but he held himself back.
Greer’s eyes stung with tears before he was aware emotion had gotten the better of him. He only had to suffer his misery at the sight of Lord Fabian alone for a moment, though. Penny moved from the end of the bed to throw his arms around him, both seeking to comfort and be comforted.
Greer hugged him as hard as he could, grasping the back of Penny’s head and holding him close. He could have lost Penny in the chaos they’d been through. Penny could have been captured by Dalhurst and Hammond and subjected to everything Lord Fabian had been through and more. It was a miracle that the two of them were still together.
He wouldn’t ever let Penny go now. He wouldn’t let fate or the law or even his own pride come between the two of them ever again or prevent them from being together.
On the heels of those thoughts, Charlie stepped forward and knelt beside the bed. “Fabian?” he spoke the young man’s name softly.
Lord Fabian stopped his squirming. His eyes moved wildly, searching for Charlie, even though the lad was right in front of him. As soon as his gaze focused on Charlie, he burst into tears and reached for him. Brutus moved aside to let him.
“Charlie,” he wept. “Charlie, save me.”
“You are saved,” Charlie said, stretching his upper body across the bed and grabbing hold of Lord Fabian. “We have you now. You’ve been rescued. You are safe.”
It was the same thing Brutus had told him, but coming from Charlie, the young nobleman seemed to believe it. His weeping took on an entirely different feeling, deep and cathartic rather than frightened and desperate. Charlie climbed all the way onto the bed with him and embraced the damaged young man with his whole body.
“Perhaps we should leave them be for a moment,” Titus said, taking a step back from the bed.
“A good idea,” Brutus nodded, then stood straight and backed up as well. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the young lordling, though.
