I sat in Edward Hughes' shabby office, the air thick with the musty scent of old paper and dust. The detective's chambers were cluttered with files and loose documents, each pile teetering precariously on the edge of the worn wooden desk. A single, dim lamp cast a feeble glow over the room, barely illuminating the chaos.

Mr. Ralph stood beside me, his presence a reassuring anchor in this unsettling environment.

Edward Hughes, a grizzled man with sharp, darting eyes, rifled through a stack of papers, muttering to himself. His movements were jittery, and I could sense the underlying anxiety that seemed to permeate the very walls of his office.

"Lady Scarlett," he finally addressed me, his voice a gravelly rumble. "I've reviewed the information you provided. It's a challenging case, but I believe I can help."

I handed him a bag of coins, watching as his eyes lit up with greedy anticipation. He eagerly counted the money, his fingers moving with practiced speed. His avarice was evident, and it irked me, but I reminded myself of my purpose here.

"Please, Mr. Hughes," I began, my voice steady despite my nerves. "Tell me what you've discovered about my sister, Meredith."

He glanced up, his expression momentarily distracted by the coins.

"Ah, yes. Meredith. I've made some progress, Lady Scarlett. It appears she was last seen in a small village near the coast, in the company of a man. Someone she seemed to trust."

My heart skipped a beat at the news. "Do you know where she is now?" I asked, my voice trembling with anticipation. Edward Hughes shook his head, his focus returning to the papers before him.

"Not yet, but it's a promising lead. I'll need more time to track her down precisely." As he spoke, the door to the office creaked open, and a young clerk entered, handing Edward a fresh stack of documents. The detective barely acknowledged the clerk's presence, absorbed in his own world of investigation. I glanced at Mr. Ralph, who remained composed, his eyes taking in every detail of the room. There was a silent understanding between us, a shared recognition of Edward Hughes' peculiar behavior.

"Mr. Hughes," Mr. Ralph interjected, his tone firm but polite, "Lady Scarlett has come to you in good faith. We expect a thorough and diligent investigation."

Edward nodded, a hint of apprehension flickering in his eyes. "Of course, of course. I assure you, I will do my utmost to find Meredith."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts. "Thank you, Mr. Hughes. Please keep me informed of any developments."

As we stood to leave, Edward's hand trembled slightly as he reached for another stack of papers. "Lady Scarlett," he said hesitantly, "May I ask... who is your husband?" I paused, exchanging a glance with Mr. Ralph before replying. "Darius Kingsley."

The reaction was immediate and startling. Edward's face paled, and he knocked over the coins on his desk in his haste to stand. Panic overtook him as he began to rummage through his office, throwing papers and books aside in a frantic search for something. His actions were erratic, and his fear was palpable.

"Please, Mr. Hughes, what is wrong?" I asked, bewildered by his sudden change. He stopped, turning to face me with wild eyes. "Lady Scarlett, I... I cannot help you. Not with him involved."

I was taken aback. "What do you mean? Why does my husband's name frighten you so?"

Mr. Hughes collapsed to his knees, his hands trembling as he clutched at my skirts.

"Please, forgive me. I didn't know he was your husband. Darius Kingsley... he's not a man to be trifled with."

Mr. Ralph stepped forward, his expression unchanging. "Mr. Hughes, Lady Scarlett has come to you in good faith. You will assist her, as agreed."

The detective looked up at Mr. Ralph, his fear mingling with a grudging respect. "I... I will do what I can, but please, tell Lord Kingsley I meant no disrespect."

I glanced at Mr. Ralph, who gave a slight nod, indicating I should continue. "Very well," I said, my voice steadying. "Please begin your investigation, Mr. Hughes. I need to find my sister."

The detective nodded, his movements still jittery as he rose to his feet. He began to gather his things, clearly eager to start the work that might appease whatever fear Darius's name had instilled in him.

"If you had told me earlier that you are Mrs Kingsley, I would've already started with the investigation," he spoke lowering his head down which left me speechless.

As we left the office, Mr. Ralph and I walked in silence for a while. I was lost in thought, trying to piece together the puzzle of Darius's influence and Edward Hughes' reaction.

Why was he so scared all of a sudden?

"Mr. Ralph," I began hesitantly, "Why does Darius's name invoke such fear?"

Mr. Ralph glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. "Lord Kingsley holds considerable power, Lady Scarlett. His reputation alone is enough to sway many. But it is his actions, both known and whispered, that have cemented that fear."

"Rest assured, Mr. Hughes will conduct a thorough investigation." I nodded, absorbing his words.

The mystery of Darius deepened with each revelation, and I couldn't help but wonder about the man I had married. Despite the facade of our relationship, there were layers to him that I had yet to uncover. Or is it even my place to uncover? I have been already told about my place from the beginning.

As we reached the grand entrance of our mansion, my mind was still reeling from the unsettling encounter with Edward Hughes. Mr. Ralph had been right; my husband wielded a power that extended far beyond my understanding. I stepped out of the carriage, my thoughts in turmoil, but my outward demeanor remained composed. The imposing structure of our home loomed before me, its grandeur casting long shadows in the fading light.

The moment I entered the foyer, he greeted me with an uncharacteristic warmth. His usually stern features softened into a smile that did little to dispel the lingering unease from my meeting with the detective.

"Scarlett, my dear, welcome home," he said, his voice smooth and inviting.

I returned his smile with a polite nod. "Good evening, my lord."

"Come," he said, extending his hand. "I have something to show you in the library."

I took his hand, allowing him to lead me through the winding corridors of our home. The library was one of my favorite rooms, its walls lined with shelves filled with leather-bound books, the air rich with the scent of aged paper and polished wood. Tonight, however, it felt different—more intimate, almost stifling.

He closed the door behind us and guided me to a plush chair near the fireplace. He poured two glasses of wine, handing one to me as he settled into the chair opposite mine.

"You seem troubled," he said, his eyes studying me intently. "Is everything alright?"

I took a sip of the wine, the rich flavor doing little to calm my nerves. "I'm fine, just a bit exhausted."

He leaned forward, his gaze never leaving mine. "You've been working so hard lately. You deserve to relax."

His voice was soothing, but I could sense an undercurrent of something more—something I couldn't quite place. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch lingering longer than necessary. I couldn't fathom his actions. He has been trying to touch me every chance he gets from the day I saved him from drowning. I moved back from his touch and that made him chuckle.

"You know," he continued, his tone light, almost playful, "I find it quite charming how dedicated you are to your pursuits. You will find your sister, don't worry."

"Thank you, my lord," I replied, keeping my tone neutral. "It's important to me."

He smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I admire your passion. It makes you all the more intriguing."

I shifted slightly in my chair, unsure of how to respond. He had always been an enigma, his moods unpredictable and his intentions often unclear. Tonight, however, he seemed determined to break through the barriers I had carefully constructed.

"You don't need to be so formal with me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We are husband and wife, after all. Call me by my name."

"Yes, my lord," I answered, my voice steady. Husband and wife?

His smile faltered slightly, an edge of annoyance creeping into his eyes. "Please, Scarlett, call me Darius."

I met his gaze with a calm, unyielding expression and remained quiet which made him chuckle softly, though his eyes darkened with a mix of frustration and something else—something deeper. "Always so proper. It's one of the things I respect about you."

"About Meredith, my lord-,"

Before I could complete there was a soft knock at the door. Mr. Ralph and a maid entered, the butler carrying a tray with tea. The maid's hands trembled slightly, the cups rattling against the porcelain.

"Tea, my lord, my lady," Mr. Ralph announced, his voice steady but his eyes betraying a flicker of concern.

"Thank you, Ralph," he said, his tone suddenly more formal. "That will be all for now."

Ralph nodded, his expression serious as he gestured for the maid to follow him out. She hesitated, her eyes darting nervously between my husband and me, before hastily retreating.

As the door closed behind them, his demeanor shifted. The stern intensity vanished and the playful lightness on his face came back. He turned back to me, his eyes darkening.

"Scarlett," he said, his voice low and commanding, "Forget Meredith, now tell me more about you."