‘Now.’ She pointed away from the carriage.
Shaking himself, he yipped at Cynthia before turning to follow her finger down a darkened alleyway. As soon as the dog disappeared, so did her confidence.
What the bloody hell just happened? What did I just do? And how in blazes did I do it?
‘Such strange weather we’re having today.’ Helena spoke to the coachman as though nothing untoward had taken place. Her painfully bright smile made the man wince. He dipped his head in a jerky nod.
‘Yes, Miss Blair. Awful odd weather the last few days.’
Helena turned to Cynthia. ‘I think it might be wise for Hamlet to stay in the carriage while we visit with Lily.’ Her silver eyes slowly darkened back to grey. The message in her gaze was impossible to miss.
Act normal.
‘Capital plan.’ Cynthia tried to keep her voice steady. She could hardly fall apart in front of her coachman and all of Cheapside.
Later.
She would question her sanityaftershe interviewed a potential killer.
Like a sensible person.
She stepped closer to Helena and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘You’ll have to explain what just happened when we’re alone.’
Helena could have been plumbing the depths of Cynthia’s soul with the intensity of her stare. ‘I think it’s best you come to Blair House tonight. We can talk about it there.’
Nerves threatened to choke her. Helena looked very serious. What if Cynthia’s suspicions were correct and she was stealing Helena’s powers somehow? Is that how she stopped the dog? Or why the weather was behaving so strangely? Or the reason every time she touched Helena, she felt a jolt of power running through her?
Hellfire.
Stealing a witch’s power could only bode ill.
Cynthia remembered what it felt like to inadvertently break society’s protocols for behaviour. Governess Smithers had taught her well with her biting birch stick. But Cynthia had no idea what was expected in this new world. She had likely committed a faux pas within the witchy rules of social interactions. She must ask forgiveness. And learn this new set of policies immediately.
Her head spun. Magic felt a little like madness.
She would simply explain that whatever she was doing was unintentional. Perhaps they could bespell her to stop stealing Helena’s magic. A part of her ached at the thought. The rush was intoxicating. She would miss feeling the pulse of power. But she would miss Helena more, and she couldn’t imagine the woman remaining friends with Cynthia if she kept robbing her gifts.
‘All right, I’ll come, and we’ll sort things out.’
‘Good.’
Cynthia tried to refocus on their mission. She might not be able to control what was happening every time she was near Helena, but she could help find Hubert’s killer. ‘Let’s get this over with, shall we?’ She strode over the filthy cobblestones, ducked under a slouching stoop, and knocked on a sagging planked door.
The sounds of voices – one male and several female – came from the opposite side of the door before it slowly creaked open.
A large man with impressive hair that crept from his head down his cheeks and onto his chin rubbed his hand over his belly as the light from the street turned his blue eyes watery. ‘Who are ye?’
Behind him, Cynthia heard a gasp.
‘Lady Burrows? Wha’ are ye doin’ here?’ Lily brushed a wisp of blonde hair from her forehead as she came from the darkened room beyond the door.
‘Oh my,’ Cynthia whispered.
‘Damnation,’ Helena cursed.
Lily’s hastily altered dress couldn’t hide a painfully obvious swelling.
That is why Hubert fired her. Because she is with child.
