Greythorne Chronicles I Awakening

by iCaple

When James T. Voigt, Greythorne's solicitor in America, has procured a house, a coach, and everything his employer could need. What he doesn't know is that Griffin is a man under siege. Can Griffin defeat the thrall he carries so close to home? Not alone. Within five years Griff's arrival in New York, he rescinded his title and holdings, embraced his destiny, and truly lived. Clean

Chapter One

Author's Note: I have no claim on Ms. Cross' characters. Roughly around the time of Griff's New York escapades, another movement was taking place in NYC. You'll just have to find out what happens!

These events begin straight after the arrival of the party to New York City, as told in The Clockwork Collar. I've tried to stay true to the spirit of Cross' characters and story arcs just as well as I can. If you're anything like me, the characters are almost like real people that I could get to know. Cross does a good job of getting us inside the heads of her characters without seeming intrusive. Up until Iron Touch. This is my response.

Some of the characters you will meet later really existed in turn-of-the-century New York City. James T. Voigt and his family, the Ortegas, and others exist only in my imagination. I've been planning this since the Iron Corset came out; imagine how exciting this is. I've taken liberty with some treasured historical teachers of the day, but I feel like to mention their names and accomplishments is a tribute in itself. I mean well.

Enjoy!

[These are the events as re-told by James T. Voigt, to his son Alexander Voigt, with letters and writings from Griffin in China during a period of 5 years from 1901-1905. Dedicated to my true friend, Griffin Lionhearted, formerly Duke of Greythorne. To Him be the glory.]

The day before the duke's arrival, James Timothy Voigt, solicitor and representative of Greythorne in America, lived through what could only be called an unusual day. Even for New York City. And it was time to call it a night.

Voigt trimmed his pen set it aside. He popped the stopper back into his container of ink and removed his wire-rimmed glasses. Rubbing his temples, he leaned back in the deep chair, sighing deeply before leveraging his muscular frame from the creaking wooden chair. He had wrapped up the business aspect of Greythorne's visit earlier last week, preparing a lavish house for his employer, or rather, his late employer's young son. Voigt had heard wild rumors, and folks protesting his involvement with his English employer. There were tales of conspiracy, murder, and run-ins with the regency and even a madman. Voigt would believe none of these childish yarns ; Greythorne was always the picture of respectability and reserve. A trustworthy reputation was worth protecting, and Voigt was determined to carry out his office in that way. In fact, he was prepared to receive the duke at his town house in the morning. It would be a fine thing indeed.

He had tried to reassure all the doubters, even a few from his own family who were convinced that fraternization with such questionable people would reflect on his reputation. Jim wasn't concerned about that. The "steam craze" so pervasive in England seemed separate from his everyday existence. It was impossible to determine the mind of the young duke, or his character without meeting him. Tomorrow was the plum opportunity for that.