A/N: As an apology for late update, this chapter is longer. This specific chapter was written in a book eleven hours of travel away from me during the holiday and i couldn't access it till i got back. My apologies once again. Enjoy.
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Lucinda had barged into his office at noon, intent on demanding the keys to her property, but in the face of him, she found herself deviating.
"I demand to have the address of the place you purchase the candles," she had instead said, rather than demanding her keys.
Silas, who was looking boredly at parchments in his hands, perked up and beamed at her presence. She found herself flushing at his sudden attention but stood firm.
He dropped the documents in his hand. "I didn't know you enjoyed it so much," he noted, sounding pleased.
"I do," she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders like they spoke of war and not of candles.
Looking amused, he said, "I see. Then we shall depart to fetch some more!" he announced, getting up.
"No!" Lucinda put her hands to his shoulders and pushed him back down. By her reaction, you would think he had just declared he would like to accompany her to purchase new undergarments. Somehow, she felt he could also do that.
"It's fine. I would like to venture out alone." Silas grinned from her position between his legs, but before she could move back, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Lucinda startled, and her fingers dug into his shoulder blades.
"Would that make my fiancée happy?" She looked down at his coy expression and sighed before nodding. "It would."
With a defeated expression, he rested his head against her stomach and grumbled. "You know that there are rumors of your attack. They aren't even sure you are alive. The shopkeeper and his associates will not hold loose lips." Her stomach clenched at the gesture, and somewhere lower heated up. She struggled not to clench her thighs and instead replied.
"Yes, I do. Don't fret, they won't see me." They intended to use the mystery of where Lucinda disappeared to cause a stir, though Lucinda hadn't figured out the best way to seize the moment.
Her clothes ruffled as he turned to gently look up at her. His view was obscured by her bosom, and he seemed to revel in that fact, his eyes lighting.
Instead, he caressed the side of her bandages—ones he had taken to changing from daily to every few days meticulously. Making sure she took her medicines and he applied ointment. The pain had dulled significantly.
He had also taken to peppering kisses against every scar and burn, whispering words of admiration and praise for every mark of her beauty and strength. She hadn't had it in her to call it bollocks, for he had sounded so sincere, and she felt… compelled to believe it—him.
"Take whoever you need, even Frederick." Lucinda decided on the offer of his adviser. She hadn't really spoken to the man ever, and she felt he belonged to Silas's side, not hers.
Somewhere in the mansion, Frederick sneezed.
"…Just stay safe." At that, and his gaze, her heart seemed to twist. "I will."
Soon, she walked out of his office to get ready—with the address and sadly no key, because she hadn't requested or demanded it.
She was dressed in one of Silas's gifts and a dark green cloak. Nora accompanied her. She had requested for Theodore to tell him she would be away but couldn't find him. It wasn't unusual; he would be up to mischief somewhere, as usual.
With a second thought, she turned around and went to search for something within her possession from her home, then went back out with instructions to the other maid around their chamber to inform Theodore of her whereabouts once found.
Competently, Silas had arranged for one of the less extravagant carriages. It never failed to take her breath—the little things he did without her needing to say so.
The sun was high in the sky as she informed the coachman of her destination.
"My lady!" Lucinda stopped where she was being assisted onto the carriage. She turned to find Connor racing for her.
She came down just as he jogged to a stop.
"I wasn't aware you were heading out."
"It was a rather… impromptu decision," she trailed off awkwardly.
Connor stared at her expectantly, but at her silence, he seemed saddened.
"You did not call for me," he pointed out. "You always call for me." Connor couldn't help but feel saddened by this fact. He had always been at his lady's side wherever she went. It seemed now, these days, she didn't really need him so much. It troubled him. Did she truly not need him anymore? He felt lost thinking of what he would do without his lady by his side. What other purpose did he serve than to protect her?
Lucinda avoided his gaze as she addressed him. "I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't needed." She walked closer and rested a hand on his forearm. "Connor…" He slowly raised his downcast gaze. "You are always needed beside me. I just… I realized that the decisions I've been taking lately haven't been in your interest, and I wanted to give you your space. To adjust to all the changes."
Connor was more than a guard to her, and she couldn't help but feel guilt for the rocky ground they had tread lately.
Connor was surprised at this fact. She hardly ever opened up, but in her own way, this was her caring for him. But he didn't need it—not this way.
He gave a warm smile and clutched the sword at his side. "I appreciate your considerations, my lady. But I am at rest at your side. Like I've always said—wherever you go, I go."
"Even to the ladies' room?" she joked. He burst out laughing at her unexpected joke. She always seemed to surprise him with these unexpected moments of humor and emotion. After all these long years, he never tired of being by her side.
"No, my lady." He thought about what Silas had said that night. He didn't think he viewed Lucinda in such a fashion. She reminded him too much of someone, and the responsibility and fondness had never made his thoughts stray.
With a soft smile, she gestured for him to come along. He liked the little changes he had noticed in his lady these past few months. Only one truly observant of her would notice—the small smile she brought out more often. Her relaxed demeanor at times… and annoyance. She had displayed annoyance when conversing with the viscount.
How had the new party's presence really changed his lady? He knew he would always be content as long as there was a place for him beside her.
Lucinda's carriage rolled to a stop. She pulled back the curtain to look out at the entrance of the shop. The first thing she noticed was that the front of the shop was decorated in dull but colorful flowers. And though a lot of people wouldn't take note of a particular detail, viewing it as simply part of the decor, Lucinda noticed the wildflowers.
She remembered Theodore once being so excited to show her the latest plant he'd learned about—which was these very flowers. He had explained animatedly their growth patterns, relationship with others in their cycle, their unique properties and characteristics that set them apart from regular ones.
A gentle smile graced her lips at the memory—more determined now to meet the owner of the establishment.
She donned her hood and took Connor's hand as he assisted her off the carriage.
Passersby, both nobles and commoners, couldn't help but pause and glance in their direction—intrigued by which household she belonged to, as she had veiled her identity.
Though the carriage she came in was not of the richest class, it held a certain allure of quiet grandeur—like a tingling whisper of wealth.
The bell stationed at the door jingled as Lucinda stepped into the shop, Connor and Nora flanking her sides.
A young lad, just having attended to a group of people, looked up and beamed at the new arrival.
The group of ladies hurriedly walked past Lucinda and gossiped behind their fans about the mysterious lady.
Lucinda paid them no mind as she walked to the counter.
"Good day, milady. What may I interest you in today?"
Lucinda's red lips, visible beneath her hood, tugged up in mischief. The boy found himself straightening, feeling like he was in the presence of a dignified noble.
"I would like an audience with the owner. I was told he would be here."
The boy looked awkward. How could he tell this lady of a presence that not just anyone could demand an audience with his master, despite their wealth or status?
But before the boy could break the dejected news, she smiled, understanding. Positive the last of the customers had walked out, she stepped closer to him. The lad flushed at the sudden move but in admiration of her presence.
The boy wondered what she wanted to do—until she elegantly raised her arms and pulled back her hood.
The boy took a step back in stunned shock.
She whispered, "Inform him that the mistress of the Quilvet estate has come to greet him."
Though the words were quiet, they reverberated through his bones. His eyes widened comically and he stumbled, speechless, both at her presence and the new information he'd just learned.
With a shaky nod, he darted away and out of sight behind a beaded curtain.
Connor grumbled from behind her. "You don't have to use his name, you know." Yes, she didn't have to. She was positive her name alone was sufficient enough to cause a stir. But she could admit—she was curious how powerful of an impact the Quilvet name could cause, alongside her relation to it.
And, suffice it to say, she wasn't displeased with the result.
A moment later, a man burst through the beaded veil of the curtain, Lucinda began to turn to give him her full attention when she found herself wrapped in his arms— in a hug.
Lucinda froze, blinking at the boy who stared in horror behind the man. She could hear the soft gasp of alarm and the plea from Nora as she stopped Connor, who was reaching for his sword, still in shock at the scene before him.
Before anything could happen, the man placed his hands on her upper arms and pulled away, looking her over.
"I wasn't informed beforehand that Lord Silas was married. I'm deeply wounded I wasn't invited."
Everyone seemed to be stunned by the man's action—except the man in question.
He was dressed like a reputable, dignified gentleman, his hair slicked back, and sporting round rimmed glasses. He had pleasant features, and if not for the smile now splitting his face, you would have first viewed him as a stuck-up socialite.
Dejectedly, she wondered why her fiancé—and all men related to him—were both handsome and eccentric. And that was putting it mildly, how unusual they were.
Getting her bearings, she corrected, "We aren't married yet, just betrothed. It's a private affair, not known to the ton except a selected few."
Connor's brows raised at the "yet" segment of her words.
Lucinda realized too late that she had said it.
"Ahhh… I suspected that. I don't believe I wouldn't know before the general public." His hazel eyes glinted.
"It's been so hard to get an audience with him these past few years though. I would think he has forgotten completely about me." He waved the words away.
"So, how may I be of help to our very special guest?"
With her hand clenched on her blouse, Lucinda gave a curt curtsy. "I have come to pay my thanks and offer my immeasurable gratitude to you for saving my life. I heard your herbs and other items purchased in your store aided my recovery."
His mouth opened in realization. "It was you?!! I wasn't sure what happened. He burst through my door at closing hours demanding all sorts of items. I was at first worried by his disheveled and bloodied appearance, but he didn't relay any information before leaving. How are you feeling now?"
His relaxed manner of speech and his tone when speaking of Silas showed they were acquainted to a certain degree.
"I'm healing quite well, thanks to you." He shook his head before she could finish.
"As much as I would love to take the credit, it wasn't my doing you stand before me today. That was all Silas."
Lucinda's heart thudded, and her brows furrowed in confusion as he mumbled something to himself.
He wasn't the one who saved her from the poison?…