"Marceline Lyra Salden, at your service."
"Spencer Reid," he says, "Detective Spencer Reid, actually. At yours."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
+Spencer Reid X OC
A weary detective strides into the dimly lit bar, his sharp eyes scanning the faces of the patrons...
They arrive at the estate, it was unimaginable. Bigger than anything she had ever seen, it reminded her of the churches Ryn used to describe to her from Spain. "My Kul'la." She says, staring at the home.
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"They're an old family," Spencer explains, stepping off of the carriage right after her. Dusk tints everything a strange shade of red.
Spencer pulls the cord of a big metal bell right outside the gates, which rings for many overlong seconds. It's a few minutes before Lucy Westenra comes running to get them, skirts all gathered in her hands.
"Oh, thank God, really!" She says, undoing the lock. "I'm ready to get this whole ordeal over with!"
"You look well, Miss Lucy," remarks Spencer, and indeed she does. There's a flush to her cheeks and her eyes are bright and aware, not to mention the fact that she's up and about. She smiles as she gets the gate to open.
"My very best friend is here tonight, as are my former suitors and my fiancé. They give me strength. But, oh!" At this, she turns her attention to Marceline and takes her hand to shake. "Forgive my manners, sir. You must be the associate of Dr. Reid. My family name is Westenra, but, please, call me Lucy."
Marceline ignores her comment."Good evening Miss Lucy, Marceline Lyra at your service. She holds out one hand and starts to unbutton her coat with the other. Marceline is impatient but trying her best not to be rude. "Your former suitors?" she questions, "Don't you think it's a bit unwise to have many people in the home... being that we don't know what we are dealing with, of course."
Lucy, hearing Marcie's voice and seeing her figure under the coat, is visibly taken aback. But she recovers quickly, and motions for the pair to follow her.
"Oh, but I couldn't do without them," she says, setting off into the expanse of the garden and towards the front door. "Choosing one to marry was a nightmare. I mean, they all love me so very much."
She sighs forlornly. "They take good care of me, all together along with Mina. And Quincey is a cowboy, you know, from America. It's the most novel thing."
Marceline clears her throat. "right."
She looks to Spencer, and widens her eyes in a "she's being serious?" way, but walks into the grounds first. She holds her coat around her arm, her cheeks red from perspiration. Looking around the home, it is far bigger on the inside, with much more land than the gate showed outsiders. She waits to walk with Spencer who, of course, is still bundled up.
He wears that small, amused smile of his, shrugging a "what can you do" at Marcie. He links arms with her, silently offering to carry the coat.
"It's good to see you well, at least. Who knows, more eyes might be of help."
"Mm," hums Lucy, leading the way still. "You've met John at the hospital, or at least Mr. Reid has."
