The couple, along with the other nobles, watched as the strange gentleman assisted the witch into a carriage. And then they whipped away. Only the sound of their departure filled the surroundings.
A thin silence filled the carriage as they sat. Lucinda had refused to turn to him since he slipped into her carriage. And with all eyes on her, she couldn't question him when he sat beside her.
All she wanted to do was get home to Theodore, protect him from Magnus, protect him from this society, protect him from their world.
"Lucinda..." Of course, this hearing was going to be unfair. What had she expected?
"Lucinda..." She couldn't let Valerie get close to her son. She had to think. She had always come up with solutions; she could overcome this—
"Lucinda." A heavy palm on her shoulder startled her.
She blinked and slowly turned to her side.
Silas.
His mask was off, and his blue eyes looked striking in the low lighting of the carriage.
His brows were pulled together, and his lips were pursed.
A second blink and he had drawn closer to her. She parted her lips to speak but ended up swallowing when he drew closer again, his lips to her ear. The tantalizing scent of him wafted around her, wrapping around her, filling her head with intrusive thoughts. His presence so close... so intoxicating.
"Breathe, Lucinda," his baritone voice drawled deeply.
She watched, speechless, as he reached his hand to curl a dark lock around his fingers, his fingers skimming the side of her neck. Her skin tingled.
His fingers skimmed a short path to gently tilt her chin.
"Chin up, Lucinda. You haven't lost the fight yet." His intense gaze bore into hers.
Unconsciously, Lucinda's shoulders straightened, the words as familiar as a striking woman with wise green eyes.
His statement lingered in the air between them throughout the ride back, along with his spicy scent and the gentle touch of his fingers that felt like a pulsing imprint.
The cloud was heavy with impending rain, and thunder rumbled as they wheeled to a stop. Lucinda took a deep breath, steadying herself. Theodore could read her; she couldn't show any sign of worry to him.
Descending the carriage with the help of Silas, she was greeted with the sight of Theodore seated on the cold steps leading up to the house, and as if on cue, he looked up and caught her gaze. Recognition dawned in his bright green eyes as he sprang up.
"Mama!" Theodore called and ran towards them, stumbling a little on the way. All her composure and façade slipped as a strangled laughter filled with joy and pain left her throat before she could stop herself. As her feet moved rapidly to meet him, crouching down, she wrapped her small arms around him, and she took him into her embrace. Smelling his clean, mildly sweaty scent filled her heart until she almost choked on a sob. Lucinda was so close to losing him. Though the war hadn't ended, she had won the battle, and that was all that mattered right now.
He was still safe in her arms, and the light in his eyes was still bright.
As Lucinda pulled away and looked over at him, she couldn't bear the thought of him not being here with her. Her sweet, innocent boy would always be with her. That, she would make sure of.
Another carriage rolled to a stop behind them, and Connor descended with a frown, looking at Frederick, who alighted from the other side of the carriage, his face a calm mask as though someone wasn't staring at him with annoying intensity.
Lucinda and Theodore pulled away, and as Lucinda rubbed her son's chubby cheeks, he tilted his head to see behind Lucinda. Then his eyes brightened in mirth, and he ran up to Lord Silas.
"Mama, you came with new papa. Are we gonna play?"
Lucinda was at a loss for words. How was she to tell her son they wouldn't be staying here? She had only allowed him to stay because of the show they had to put on.
Before she could trouble herself much further, Silas spoke up first.
"Actually, young one," he lowered himself, "as much as it deeply pains me to say this, I have matters to attend to at the moment."
Theodore's eyes dulled, and he pouted with a sad face.
In an attempt to fix what he must have made a mess of, "Don't fret, young one. We'll see each other soon." He went closer to whisper in Theodore's ear, "This evil lord hasn't given up on your mama just yet." He pulled back with a reassuring low chuckle, which the child beamed at. With an enthusiastic nod of his little head, his little curls bounced. Silas stood up, and with a nod of greeting to Lucinda, he turned and hurriedly boarded his carriage.
"You didn't encounter any problems, did you?" Silas said, nodding to a box in Frederick's hands.
"All was taken care of, my lord," Frederick bit back calmly, thinking of the quite persistent guard that kept asking him about the box in his possession on the ride to the lady's place.
"Is all we need present?" All trace of teasing left his voice.
With a heavy nod, Frederick dropped the box on the cushioned seat opposite them and opened it. A flash of lightning cracked the dark sky.
With each crack of thunder, the air thickened with anticipation. Lord Silas's cool tone masked the urgency of their mission. As the lightning flashed again, revealing the deadly arsenal before them, a sense of impending danger filled the carriage. "We aren't too late, my Lord," Frederick said, his voice steady but his words laden with gravity. The brewing storm outside mirrored the turmoil within, amplifying the urgency of their task. Silas's blue eyes flashed with malice as his jaw tightened with a silent vow.