Chapter 3

Lilian's heart pounded in her chest as she walked along the streets. The darkness of the night was creeping in, and the streets were starting to empty. The air grew cold and heavy as she rushed along the streets.

She needed to find Matthew.

They needed to get back.

If they didn't hurry, someone could notice they were gone.

Their mother would be so upset. Their poor father, his heart. The stress he would be under if he knew they weren't home, safe in their beds.

Alone and lost, the houses and buildings soon gave way to the open air of the docks. Ships sat in the bay, ready to ship out their cargo.

She could feel eyes on her as she moved. Her heart pounded with each step. She didn't feel safe here. She needed to find Matthew. She needed to get home.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed on.

When she rounded the corner, what she saw made her freeze, blood turning to ice in her veins.

A group of men were gathered around another smaller man. Most of them had weapons, and one of them, standing just behind the line of men, had a thick scarf pulled up to cover his face.

She should run. She should get out of there before they noticed her.

But she couldn't move. Terror locked every muscle of her body in place. All she could do was watch the scene unfold before her.

"You brought this on yourself, Jacob," the man with the scarf spoke. He sighed, tapping a metal rod against his gloved palm. "You should have just given me the money when I asked nicely."

"Please, I-I'll get you your money. I just need more time!"

The man sighed, shaking his head. "It's too late, Jacob. I needed my money last week. I've given you an extension before, and it wasn't enough time. Why would this time be any different? I need to think about the future."

"Next week, I promise!"

He clicked his tongue. "Sounds like you should have thought more about your own future too."

Then, before Lilian could be sure what she was seeing, the man they were surrounding launched himself at the leader. To her shock, he made contact with the man, and for a moment his scarf slipped down.

Despite the situation, or maybe even because of it, the man wore a cruel smirk. His piercing blue eyes seemed to glow in the fading light. It couldn't have been longer than a second. No sooner had she gotten a glimpse of his face than he grabbed the scarf, pulling it back into place as he let out a dark laugh.

"Take him away, boys. I'll deal with him later."

"No! No, please," the man begged, but his pleas fell on dead ears.

One of the men hit him over the head with something, and the man fell to the ground.

Lilian watched in horror as his limp body was carried off. Hands shaking, she backed down an ally.

She felt sick. Her stomach roiled. Gasping for air, she kept moving deeper into the ally, eyes still locked on the opening and the danger mere feet away.

Suddenly, her back connected with a firm chest.

She opened her mouth to scream, only to be silenced when a hand clamped over her mouth.

"You're safe. It's only me. Now, be quiet. You don't want any of them to hear you, do you?"

At the sound of the familiar voice, her fear drained away, only to be replaced by annoyance. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head.

"I'm going to uncover your mouth now. I need you to stay calm."

The second he released her, Lilian whirled around to come face to face with that awful man from the garden party. "What on earth are you doing here?" she whispered, crossing her arms.

"Me?" he scoffed. "I should be asking you this. I thought you were a proper lady, and yet here you are, skulking about in a back alley near the docks."

"Skulking! I wasn't skulking!"

"Then what were you doing?"

"I—I—" Her voice broke.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "I suppose it doesn't matter either way. Let's just get you home. Follow me, I'll help you find your way back."

"What makes you think I'm lost?"

He snorted. "Because I have eyes."

She flushed, looking away. "Fine, let's say I am, why would you want to help me anyway?"

"I don't."

"What!?"

He continued before she could say anything else. "That doesn't mean I want to leave you here to get hurt. And if we stay here, it's only a matter of time before one of b—one of his men finds you."

Her hands clenched into fists.

"Besides, and be honest, if I don't help you, would you be able to find your way back on your own?"

She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him she didn't need his help. That she would find her way back on her own, thank you very much.

But as much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

"That's what I thought. Come on." He started walking.

"You don't even know where I live." She pouted.

"I have an idea what part of town it's in."

She huffed and allowed them to lapse into silence.

It didn't last long, however.

Her arms crossed over her chest, she grumbled, "And what should I call my gallant savior?"

"I fail to see why you need to call me anything," he said as they left the docks and returned to town.

She glared, chasing after him. "Perhaps because it's polite, or so we can talk while we make our way back."

"We don't need to talk."

"You really won't even tell me your name?"

"Why would I? You don't need it."

"Perhaps not, but I would like it."

He didn't respond.

"You didn't ask for my name either."

"No, I didn't."

"That's rather rude. You should."

"I'd rather not."

"So, you don't want my name, you don't want to talk, and you won't even tell me yours." She pouted. "I don't understand why you're being so rude."

He sighed. "If I tell you my name, will you be quiet?"

Lilian hummed. "I suppose I'll consider it.

"Fine, I am Frederic Lockhart."

"And I am Lilian Cooke."

"How nice for you."

"It is."

Finally, her surroundings became familiar once more. She let out a sigh of relief when her house could be seen in the distance.

"I can make my way back on my own from here."

He hesitated. "Are you sure? I can walk you to the door."

"No!" she said a bit too loudly. She couldn't come in through the front door. Her mother might see them. "I-I mean I think it would be best if I walked alone from here, but thank you for walking me back. That was very kind of you, Frederic Lockhart."

He grimaced. "There's no need to thank me."

"I'm inclined to disagree."

"If you want to show your gratitude, then do everyone a favor and stay far away from the docks in the future."

"Honestly! It wasn't as if I intended to end up there!" She crossed her arms.

Frederic blinked at her in shock. "That makes it worse. So much worse. You see how that's worse, don't you?"

She grimaced, looking away. "Well, thank you for walking me back. I'd say you were lovely company, but it feels wrong to deceive you."

"That's rather funny. I was about to say the same thing."

"Well then, I won't say I hope to see you again either. I hope you have a mediocre evening."

She spun on her heels and stomped the remaining distance home. In the yard, Matthew raced up to her with a relieved sigh.

"Thank God you made it back safely! When we got separated, I tried to find you, but I couldn't. Where did you go?"

"It doesn't matter. I made my way back. Let's just get inside before they notice we are gone."