Page 25 of Poison Nights & Twilight Alchemy

The stranger called out to Lucas with a familiar feminine voice, and Reed realized themanwas in fact Dulce herself. Instead of the young and admittedly handsome appearance of her late husband, she was now disguised as a stout older farmer type with a large middle. As she leapt from the horse, Reed heard her laugh for the first time, the sound like a summer day, sending a warm sensation along his ribcage.

“It’s as I told Sylvan,” she continued, “it only serves our purposes for the people of Moonglade to think Cornelius mad with grief. Heisabout to disappear mysteriously from his rooms and never be seen or heard of again, after all.”

“Still,” Sylvan grumbled, climbing down from the carriage and taking the mule by the reins, “that’s no reason to practically give away your fine horses and carriage.”

Dulce waved a hand dismissively. “The orphanage needed a new carriage. And Cornelius’s kind charity will be a distraction from his otherwise lumpish loutery once anyone finally notices he’s gone. I—speaking as an ill-sounding Cornelius, of course—told the staff at the inn not to disturb me under any circumstances, so that should buy us quite some time before anyone comes sniffing around the manor with estate questions.”

Reed was left amazed at how easily one could get rid of a person—if one could only impersonate them convincingly enough. It seemed to him that magic couldbe used for all sorts of criminal enterprises, and he hoped the Leper never gained the use of it.

“Ah, Reed!” Dulce said in a comically low voice as she noticed him standing in the doorway. Smiling as she passed, she uttered, “We depart at dawn, prepare what you must! Leave the unnecessary!”

Reed turned to Vesta and wiggled his fingers by his head, whispering, “Do the …changesaffect her brain?”

Vesta pretended not to hear him, answering only, “You will find your new wardrobe outside your room,Mr.Hawthorne. And see that you do not neglect to take the elixir provided for you. That hair will never do.”

Reed pretended to notice his hair for the first time, exclaiming, “Oh,never, I quite agree.”

Over dinner, an argument erupted concerning who would accompany Dulce on her journey north. All three of the servants wanted to stay with the heiress, a fact that Reed found spoke well of her kind and generous nature.

“I’ve painted the carriage and I’m ready to travel,” Sylvan insisted. “There’s nothing more to do here that Lucas cannot do in my absence.”

“What about your gout?” Dulce asked.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”

She lowered her silver slowly onto a plate of radishes and poached potatoes. “And if men come with estate questions, what will Lucas tell them? Do you think they will respect the word of a mere sixteen-year-old? Or a housemaid? No offense, Vesta, but—”

Vesta ate two peas. “None taken.”

“It has to be you who gives them Cornelius’s letter of explanation,” Dulce said with finality. “And Vesta must nurse Mother’s tree with my potions in our absence.”

“We will return in less than a week,” Sylvan tried, though Reed could see he’d given up. “No one will even notice—"

“Wehopeto return in less than a week, but we might not.”

Reed watched the four of them, the servants all equally worried for Dulce as she continued her meal.

“I will not put Lucas in any danger,” she vowed after a long silence, the determination in her gaze captivating Reed in the candlelight. “I promise you that, on my own life.”

“I never questioned that, Dulce, I only—”

She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “I promise it, just the same, Sylvie.”

They left at dawn the next morning, their belongings piled onto the freshly painted carriage beneath waterproof oilskins, a foreign merchant’s insignia decorating its side. A new knife was hidden in Reed’s boot, courtesy of Dulce, and he was disguised as said foreign merchant, having swallowed the first of the bitter elixir, which turned his hair a deep brown that perfectly matched his eyes and nothing else. His appearance couldn’t be altered further since he was new to the elixir.

“You’d be surprised how little one is recognized with a simple change of wardrobe,” Dulce had told him, seeing his disappointment.

Dulce would travel as his wife—a position that would keep her in his presence and under his protectionthroughout—her enormous volume of striking blonde curls and bright green eyes setting her apart from the ‘dead’ heiress, should any who knew her notice them along the way. A black high-collared dress hugged her curves splendidly.

Lucas sat tall in the driver’s seat, bundled in the fur-lined uniform of a foreigner’s coachman, the Clydesdale resigned as their preparations to depart were completed.

Reed doubted any would notice them as they passed through the empty streets of Moonglade, the town cloaked in a thick layer of fog, and even the crows were still asleep.

“Will your brother be all right?” Dulce asked, surprising him with her kindness. She was genuinely worried about a man she’d never met, when most of the wealthy wouldn’t spare a moment to care.

“He’ll pull through—thank you for asking,” Reed said. “I only wish he could leave that place and focus on his dreams of teaching.”

“And you?” she inquired, her arms hugging an older tome to her chest. “Do you wish to leave as well?”

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