Silas looked worn out by an internal battle. The lights in his eyes were dark, and he was hunched over slightly, looking small.
"I believe in you, okay?" he assured.
Lucinda visibly swallowed, warmth blooming in her chest. She nodded absentmindedly.
"I'll call for you tomorrow. I believe I have something for you."
As she pushed against every protest in her limbs and walked away from him instead of sitting there till he spoke up, she wondered what he had for her.
•••
Later into the night, with a few candles flickering in his study, Silas was settled in his cushioned chair, his feet propped on the table, glasses low on the bridge of his nose, the top buttons on his shirt undone and sleeves folded up. He fiddled with an envelope between his hands, deep in thought.
"…how am I, a lady with not much influential standing, going to be able to see the Queen…" Lucinda's smooth voice recounted in his thoughts. He pulled out the parchment inside, then stared at the familiar strokes and words, the ink glinting under the candlelight.
The veins in his hand bulged with the urge to crush the delicately designed parchment. After a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath.
The next morning. The shocked faces of the servants followed her as she walked out of the mansion and down through the gardens and fields. Coming to an incline, a guard tried to assist her as she tried to jump the short fence instead of walking down to the entrance.
She smoothed the wrinkles on her attire just as Silas came into view.
She heard him suck in air through his teeth. His face was glued to her body, which was clad in white. The luxurious material stretched across her breasts, snatched at her waist, hips, and long legs.
The golden buttons and cufflinks at her top and the front of the pants glistened. The clothes clung like a second skin.
The attention of the servants and guards in the surrounding area was all on her.
"Mistress!!" A faraway shout came from the top of the hill before they saw maids rushing toward them with Theodore in tow.
"You have to wear your riding garments—" Nora said.
They all seized when they came into view and realized their lady was already dressed for riding. Their eyes almost bulged out at her attire.
Instead of a normal skirt and a bodice, Lucinda had on a stylish, fitted bodice with a high-neck collar and equally white pants that hugged her shapely long legs, riding boots, and a stylish small hat attached to the side of her hair, which was pulled into a tight low bun.
They had never seen anything like this.
A woman in pants—and not even the kind that looked tailored for men, but for women.
"I guess you aren't side-saddling, my lady…" Nora whispered in awe, the garment once in her arms now forgotten in the fresh grass.
"Mama! Mama!" Theodore bounced up excitedly to the small fence surrounding as far as the eye could see—the expanse of the field and stable house.
Silas helped him over the fence and went right back to staring at her. His fiancée always seemed to dress like a work of art.
"Wow! Mama looks amazing!!" Theodore rounded her, bouncing with excitement.
"Hmm… how much?" Lucinda's red lips smiled, and it seemed too hot then, all in his chest.
Theodore stopped in front of her and raised his hands. He widened the gap of his hands, looked between the two, then widened it so far off to his sides—"this much!!" He widened them till he couldn't anymore and tipped over, falling on his behind.
Silas crouched and picked Theodore up, standing him between his knees as Theodore continued to smile at his mama, who chuckled at his adorable antics.
"Papa! Papa! Mama's pretty, right?!" He turned to Silas, asking loudly.
Lucinda's giggles slowed as she stared at Silas expectantly. A sudden shyness overwhelmed her. No one really complimented her except for Theodore.
Silas's lips softly pulled at the side as he stared at her in astonishment from below. The sun from his angle provided a halo around her.
"The most beautiful," he heard himself say.
"Yay! Papa thinks Mama beautiful!" he stumbled over the pronunciation but got all the excitement and cooing from everyone's hearts—and openly.
Silas smoothly rested his chin on Theodore's shoulder and gazed at Lucinda with his face pressed up against Theodore's happy expression—Theodore giggled at the contact.
Lucinda felt her heart racing at his compliment and tightened to an almost unbearable level at the sight of them both—Theodore's green eyes crinkled in delight, and Silas's smoldering ones locked on hers.
This scene made them look like the perfect papa and child duo, complimenting their goddess of a mother.
He stood and held onto Theodore's arms in the air as he was squirming and kicking his feet in childish protest at the restriction of movement in this position. Only then did her eyes take in Silas's form—he was clad in royal blue riding garments that framed his defined muscles and broad shoulders. And for all that is good, how could a man have thighs like that?
She swallowed. Hard. He looked like a ruler—a dignitary, so imposing. But with Theodore swinging around in his arms like that, he looked like a caring papa.
Theodore, playing on the strength of Silas's arms, coyly looked between Lucinda and Silas and grinned deviously in achievement. His work here was done.
As they entered the larger stable that could double as a home, the servants paused their various assignments and gave a deep bow before Silas dismissed them.
The air around him seemed to change in this place. There was a soft smile on his face, and he playfully pushed away Theodore's wandering fingers probing at his face.
Theodore was sitting comfortably on one of Silas's shoulders, legs swinging happily. Lucinda had tried to convince Theodore that it was dangerous to sit like that, but Silas had assured her he was safe with him.
She believed that. She knew Silas cared a lot for Theodore. It was in his actions and gaze.
He had an easy smile as he played with Theodore, and Theodore giggled unrestrictedly like they both had a joke she wasn't privy to.
The smell of hay and the occasional stomping of hooves filled her senses as she passed by stall after stall, checking the breed of horses.
She ducked out of the way of a servant hurling dung out of the stables and was amused at his star-struck expression. Indeed, they hardly—or have never—seen a lady in pants.
Her attire was one of many possessions hauled to Silas's estate in her bags and boxes, and now she had the opportunity to showcase one of her designs.
Since she was going to join the competition, she had better get used to owning and honoring her designs.
A huge huff of warm air blew at her nape from behind, rifling a few stray strands. Lucinda tensed, and the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end.