Clarissa squeezed his hand. “I’m going with you. If anyone knows how to talk to my father, it’s me.”
“No, my sweet princess. You’ll be in harm’s way if you go with me. I cannot allow that to happen.”
“But, I won’t be—”
“Clarissa?” Her mother’s voice stopped Clarissa’s protests. “Listen to Mr. Grey. He is one of the king’s guards. He knows what is best.”
Sighing heavily, Clarissa frowned. She didn’t want to be proven wrong on this, but darn it, her mother was right...which meant Ryder was right. “Fine. I’ll stay.” She couldn’t help but smile as Ryder lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Please be safe,” she told him.
“I will. There’s too much happiness in my life now, so rest assured, I’ll return the victor.”
As she watched him walk back into the other room with his mother, Clarissa’s chest tightened. She had happiness in her life, too, but she dared not get her hopes up just yet. Who knows what else that witch was up to—and how many other lives she had ruined? Would Ryder really be able to stop such evil?
“Oh and, Clarissa?” Ryder said, glancing back. “I know my mother has a beautiful garden, but please, don’t go smelling any more flowers.”
SIXTEEN
“Ryder, wait.”
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “What is it, Mother?”
“Before you go, I want to give you something.”
As his mother walked toward him, she swiped a grayish-brown lock of hair off her forehead. When she stopped in front of him, she withdrew a dark blue women’s wrist purse from her apron pocket. He’d seen her carry this before and assumed it held spare change. But he didn’t hear any clinking of coins as her fingers pulled the strings apart before delving inside.
She pulled out a small object, and he narrowed his gaze.A rabbit’s foot?As a lad, his father had mentioned how keeping a rabbit’s foot brought good luck to the owner. Over the years, Ryder had realized that was just an old wives’ tale.
“If you are to face the witch,” his mother said, “I want you to take this.”
He arched an eyebrow, meeting her stare. “Mother, do you honestly believe a rabbit’s foot is going to bring me good luck?”
The older woman released a broken laugh and shrugged. “I don’t know for certain, but it was given to me by one of your father’s dearest friends after Charles died.”
“Who was this friend?”
“The king.”
