There was a moment, however brief, in which he had begun to worry.

Why? He had never particularly worried about such things before. A street was a street, and while he remained ever vigilant to the horrors that could befall a young woman, this? Waiting outside with his lover’s someone else’s sister, admiring flowers?

Malachi was somewhat ashamed to admit that his worry had only spiked when he had connected their disappearances together. The sister – Miss Koch? Nisa – had been nothing but polite, if a little overly attached to that politeness for his liking.

There was no reason to feel on edge when he saw her with his niece, but he did.

Perhaps it was his own discomfort with keeping secrets, with hiding away for a few minutes with her brother, but- that couldn’t be true. There was no guilt in secrecy when honesty meant punishment or death. Perhaps it was because some part of him wanted to steal her brother away, and make sure that he found his escape from what would be the death of him.

…He did feel bad for including her in that.

“It’s alright, dear,” assured Malachi, and he gave his niece a small smile. “My apologies for keeping you waiting too. I had another coughing fit and Mr. Koch was kind enough to stay until I was well.”

Like any respectable stranger with morals would do.