Ginny whimpered. Bobbing her head in understanding.

"Good." He sat and lifted his teacup like he'd never been on the brink of violence. "Now do as I directed and get me in that house. While," He lifted a finger and gave her a black look to indicate the importance of what he said next. "he is out. I don't want him interfering."

"What if you do end up wed to her and then she finds out?" Ginny asked softly.

"Then I'll claim she's a disobedient wife and beat her soundly." He waved a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about such details. Leave the thinking to me. You just get me in that house."

"What are you going to do to her?"

"Rationalize...At first. If that doesn't work, I'll take away her ability to have a choice."

"You're going to take her innocence?" Ginny swallowed as she filled in what she already knew.

She was quickly learning the true evil her lover was capable of. And what could she say when she was the one to deliver the poison to the former Lord Demetrius.

"If she can't see reason." He smirked. Giving Ginny a purposeful look that told her he looked forward to that prospect.

"But don't worry, Sweetheart." He said in a honeyed tone. "I'll make sure I still have time for you every day. Once we're all under the same roof." He took another sip of his tea and sat back. "One, big...happy...family."

***

Ginny hopped in the coach to take her back to Charters House. Barely remembering to grab the small valise of a few nonsensical items so she could claim an excuse for having returned in-case anyone noticed her absence. She touched her jaw and adjusted it. Ensuring that nothing was broken. Though she was sure her face would remain bruised for several days.

As the coach leapt to life, she wrapped her arms around herself and stared at a spot inside the coach, replaying everything Randy had done to her this time and before. And her seething hatred emerged but with it was the growing fear that she could do nothing to stop him from hurting her. Or her lady.

She was already in too far.

She made it back to Charters House and the door was opened by the butler. She brushed past him. Unwilling to chat as she made a quick path to the servants quarters to have a moment to herself. A moment where she could have some privacy, some stillness.

And check on her small captive.

She entered the dingy, dark room and closed the door behind her. Slumping against it and whooshing a breath. Tears already streaming down her face.

She caught the tinderbox near the door and the candle and lit it to set down the valise and find a clean dress. But the moment the dancing orange fire bloomed to life she screamed.

But even as the sound rolled up her vocal cords, the man sitting on her bunk lifted a palm and sent a bloom of wind which billowed through the room and stole all air. Making the sound she'd been trying to emanate, retract back into her chest and making her hold her throat, as she suddenly found suffocated.

She panted for air, but it felt as if she was trying to breath around a rock. She fell to her knees, scratching at her throat.

"There you are, My Dear." Lord Charters walked to stand over her. Cocking his head as he watched her desperate expression. "I've been waiting for you."

He was holding something in his other hand. It was sitting in his palm and holding onto his finger which was curled up enough for it to grip. It peered around it with vibrant orange eyes. So small it couldn't be seen over his curled fingers.

"Now, why don't you tell me what you've been doing with my young one, here?"

Ginny had collapsed onto the floor. Holding her chest where her lungs felt like they were burning and gasping for air in a room that suddenly seemed absent of it.

He twitched a couple fingers on his free hand and precious air filled her.

"Please." She rolled onto her knees. Coughing and trying to catch her breath. "I had to."

"And why is that?" He wandered back over to seat himself leisurely on the side of her bunk again. Rolling his hand to let the creature scurrying around his wrist and along his arm, a flatter plane. It rushed up the sleeve of his shirt, climbing his outer bicep to perch atop his shoulder and curl into the side of his neck.

Ginny's eyes slid to the jar on the floor next to her bed. It was tipped over and the lid was next to it.

"What did you do to me?"

"I put you in a jar, absent air. To let you experience what you'd done to this child who was very nearly dead when I found him. You're lucky he was not." The man levelled a look on her and his eyes shined yellow in the dark in a feral way that warned her he'd have killed her. Brutally. As punishment for that crime.

Though she wasn't certain he wasn't going to do so as it was.

"Please, My Lord. Don't kill me. I didn't want to betray her. Or you." Ginny rushed over and caught his hand. Clutching it between hers to plead before him.

"Betray whom?"

"My Lady..." She bowed her head. Crying as she said. "Your Lady."

He snorted. "Not mine, certainly."

"But it is clear you intend her so, My Lord."

"Not for me, I don't." He nudged up her chin. "Look again."

Ginny gazed at him, and her brow furrowed as she stared hard enough, she saw that there was something wrong. Something different.

Her lips parted in question, though she didn't know what question to ask.

"I'm not your Lord. I'm his father."

"Who?" She leapt to her feet and retreated a step. Screeching. "Are ye a ghost?"

"Oh, no, My Dear." He shook his head solemnly. "I'm far worse."