Chapter 138: Chapter One Hundred-Thirty-Eight: The Hidden Bond

//CLARA//

The harbor smelled of wet rope and rotting fish. It wasn’t the grand pier, but a skeleton of a dock, tucked away behind rusted warehouses and the silence of the dying night. I pulled my hood lower, the wool scratching my jawline, and kept my eyes on the planks beneath my boots.

The captain’s grim face was the last thing I saw of the yacht. Casimir’s hand found mine in the darkness.

Gary shuffled behind us. A plain, black carriage with no crest sat waiting. I climbed inside first, my cloak catching on the doorframe, and Casimir followed, pulling Gary in after like luggage he couldn’t leave behind.

I sat pressed against Casimir’s side, our thighs touching through layers of wool and silk. Gary wedged himself into the far corner, knees drawn up, making himself small enough to disappear. The carriage lurched forward before the door fully closed.

Casimir’s thumb stroking back and forth across the inside of my wrist. I watched his face in the gray half-light filtering through the curtains. He stared at the opposite wall, or through it, seeing something I couldn’t see.

"Casimir," I whispered, the silence finally becoming too much to bear. "What are you planning to do? Where are we going?"

His thumb stopped. His head turned slowly, as if remembering I existed beside him. His eyes found mine.

"We’re going back to the mansion."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "What? No. Casimir, you can’t be serious."

"I am."

"Aunt Cornelia will kill me," I hissed, leaning in closer so Gary wouldn’t hear every word, though he was clearly eavesdropping. "She’ll kill you. Both of us. Didn’t you say we were going to run away? That we’d disappear?"

His grip tightened. His other hand reached up, touched my cheek, his palm cold from the harbor air.

"I did, little bird."

He looked past me. I followed his gaze to Gary, who had gone rigid in his corner, eyes fixed on the carriage floor. Casimir’s stare lingered until Gary’s jaw tightened and he turned his face to the window, presenting only his side profile and his throat.

"But things changed," Casimir said, returning to me. "I need to settle this mess to keep you safe. I cannot fight a war while we are fugitives on the run. I need my resources."

"And you think bringing me back to the mansion will keep me safe?" I asked, my voice rising with an edge of hysteria. "What if Bartholomew finds me there? What about then? He and Aunt Cornelia will probably skin me alive the moment I step through the foyer. I humiliated them, Casimir."

"They won’t touch you," he said.

"How can you be sure of that? We eloped! The scandal alone—"

"No one in New York knows we are married," Casimir interrupted. "Aside from the few men who value their tongues too much to speak, word has not gotten out. As far as the city is concerned, you were simply a bride who ran away."

Before I could protest, Casimir lifted my hand. His touch was clinical as he slid the gold wedding band off my finger.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, reaching for it.

He didn’t answer. He only left the jade ring on my finger. Then, he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a fine, sturdy golden chain. He threaded the wedding ring onto the chain, the gold clicking against the links.

He leaned forward, his large hands moving behind my neck. I felt the cool metal of the chain settle against my skin as he clasped it firmly.

"As much as I would love to scream to the world that you are mine," he murmured, his face inches from mine, "I am afraid there are people who would take the liberty of using you as leverage against me. If they know you are my wife, you are a target. If you are merely my ward, you are a nuisance."

His fingers dipped beneath the lace of my collar, his knuckles grazing the skin of my chest as he tucked the ring out of sight.

"Hide it," he rasped. "Keep it close. Let it remind you who you belong to when I’m forced to be cruel to you in front of them."

His palm lingered over my heart for a second too long.

"You will remain as my ward. You will be protected." His hand found mine again, smoothing over where our wedding band had been. "You will give me the matchbook. And I will handle the rest."

I stared at him, feeling the ring against my chest.

"You’re asking me to go back to being a prisoner."

"I am asking you to be safe," he corrected. "Even if pretending you aren’t mine is a lie that will bleed me dry. The ghost of our vows will be standing right between us, and I will be counting the seconds until I can make them real again."

I nodded, taking a deep breath and looked over Gary. He looked like he wanted to jump out of the moving carriage.

"What about Elias?"

Casimir’s breath came out sharp, a controlled exhale through his nose.

"I have arranged a place for him. He will stay hidden. He will stay safe." His eyes held mine, demanding I believe him. "I have done what I can for your friend, Clara. Now I need you to let me do what I must for you."

Gary’s voice cut through the space, thin and reedy. "Wait."

He uncrossed his arms, leaned forward slightly, then thought better of it and pressed back into the corner.

"You’re not setting me into a trap, are you? This isn’t—this isn’t some way of getting me back to the syndicate?"

Casimir’s jaw tightened. I could see the pulse jumping in his neck. He looked like he was holding onto his patience by a single, fraying thread.

"The thought is tempting, Elias. Truly. But my wife’s sanity is worth more than the pleasure of watching you disappear. You’ll live. For now."

Gary swallowed hard. "That’s... that’s reassuring. I think."

"It wasn’t meant to be."

I looked at Gary, at the relief breaking across his features, the way his shoulders dropped from his ears. He believed Casimir meant it, at least for now.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Aunt Cornelia’s face rose in my memory, the sound of her palm against my cheek still ringing in some distant part of my mind.

The carriage wheels hit a rut, and I swayed against Casimir. His arm coming around my shoulders, pulling me close. I let my head rest against his collar.

I closed my eyes. The carriage swayed, rocked, carried us toward the mansion and whatever waited there.

"You’re afraid," he said. Not a question.

I laughed, the sound muffled against his coat. "Terrified."

"Good." His arm tightened. "Fear will keep you sharp. Fear will keep you alive. But don’t let it paralyze you. When we walk through those doors, you are my ward, nothing more. You look at me with respect, with gratitude, with the deference a young woman owes her guardian. You do not look at me like—"

He stopped. His hand found my chin, tilted my face up to his.

"Like this," he finished, his eyes moving over my features.

"Like what?"

His thumb traced my lower lip. "Like you looked at me when I was inside you. Like I’m the only thing in the world you want."

My breath caught. The memory rose unbidden, his voice in my ear telling me to breathe, to relax, to let him have me. The way I’d clung to him afterward, shaking, unable to speak.

"I can’t look at you like that in front of them," I said.

"You can’t." He released my chin, settled me back against his shoulder. "So practice now. Look at me like a man a decade older who has taken you in out of familial obligation and nothing more."

I pulled away enough to study his face.

Gary cleared his throat. We both turned. He’d pressed himself so far into the corner he seemed part of the upholstery.

"Should I—" He gestured vaguely at his own face, at his eyes. "Pretend I’m not here? Actually I am not here. You two continue with whatever this is."

The carriage came to a dead stop. Outside, I could hear the heavy front doors of the mansion creaking open. I could hear the muffled voices of the servants. Dread immediately pooled inside my belly.

Casimir stepped down first. He didn’t offer me his hand to help me up. He simply stood by the door, waiting.

"Wait," Gary whispered, looking panicked. "What about me? Do I just sit here?"

"The carriage will take you to your destination once she is inside," Casimir said without looking back. "You stay where I put you. You don’t go outside. You don’t talk to anyone. You don’t exist."

Gary nodded, quick, jerky. "Understood. Completely understood. Silent as the grave, that’s me."

Casimir turned to me, his hand cupping my face, his thumb brushed my cheekbone. He caught my mouth in a chaste kiss, pulling me deeply behind the heavy veil of the carriage door.

"This isn’t forever, my love."