A soft knock sounded at the door.
Cecilia Adler turned her head, her gaze wary.
"Honey."
Hearing Ian Quincy's voice, Cecilia relaxed. "I'm here," she said, walking toward the door. She unbolted it and stepped aside to let him in. "Where have you been?"
Ian Quincy lowered his gaze. "I went to see Old Quincy to tell him what happened to us."
"What did Dad say? Did he find out who those men were? Who sent them?"
"It was Ruth Shaw. It's been taken care of. They shouldn't dare to bother you again."
The knot in Cecilia's stomach finally loosened. A smile as bright as a spring day spread across her face. "That was so fast! Dad is incredibly efficient! He's so capable. It's like that line from the poem: 'With casual talk and laughter, their mighty fleet was turned to ash and smoke.'"
Ian Quincy nodded in agreement. Titus Shaw was indeed a formidable man.
'One could only imagine how dashing and full of vigor he must have been twenty years ago.'
