❝If there was one thing Anthony Lockwood was afraid of, it would be Carolynne Blair Lynch's pure, mere, terrifying beauty.❞
𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭? Perhaps a day that didn't go your way so now you'd...
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𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, lay on the Strand just down from Trafalgar Square. Lockwood, Carolynne and Lucy reached it shortly after eight p.m. For the occasion of the party, certain sections of the street had been blocked to normal traffic. Not even the usual protesters for Ghost Cult that usually took up areas of the Square could stop the traffic.
At the marbled entrance, fires burned in braziers on either side of the doors. Illuminated banners, two stories long, hung from the walls. Each showed the rearing unicorn holding it's radiant Lantern of Truth. Below it, in silver letters, was emblazoned the simple proud motif.
50 YEARS.
A purple carpet of scattered lavender stalks covered the pavement between the doors and the road. This was roped off from the pressing knots of photographers and autograph seekers. A queue of limousines waited in the centre of the Strand, ready to disgorge their guests.
As they walked in Lockwood had his hand rested on the small of her back but when he noticed her and Kipps sharing a smile he wrapped his arm around her waist completely, keeping her close to his side. Out of the three agents it seemed to be a battling competition of who could act more natural and comfortable, Lucy had completely given up without any effort, Lockwood was putting on a façade but loving the fact he was at a party he always read about and Carolynne fit in with no effort as if she'd done this her entire life. Drinks were being offered to them on a silver tray so they all took a flute of champagne and looked around.
