Acting on impulse, he left the room hurriedly.
Shelby looked up as he left but was clearly too exhausted to follow. Rufus had yet to stir at all.
Seth still did not bother with a candle, even when he reached the staircase with so few windows beside him that it was difficult to trace his steps in the darkness. He hurried to the east wing where he promptly found Charity’s chamber.
Pacing in a circle for a moment, his good sense argued with the vengeful passion of his heart. She was sleeping. He should not disturb her.
Damn it all! Damn reason.
He lost his patience and flung open the door, striding inside.
A perfect shaft of moonlight fell through the curtains and onto the bed, where he had left Charity earlier that night. To hisastonishment, there was nothing but the empty bed, with the covers crumpled where Charity had once been sleeping.
“Lady Charity?” he called into the air, but there was no answer.
She is gone.
That shaft of moonlight disappeared. The wind whistled beyond the windows and the rain lashed at the glass. Stunned, Seth moved toward the window, brushing the curtain aside so he could look out.
A storm had been approaching, and in his distracted state, he hadn’t even noticed. Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled only two seconds later, showing the eye of the storm was near. As the lightning struck, it revealed every part of the garden and how the rain had already created vast puddles on the lawn.
Where was she? Seth had a horrible feeling. What if Lady Charity had left the house and wandered outside in this storm? Surely not! “Lady Charity?” he called again and whipped around, knowing he had to find her urgently.
He started with the upstairs, searching every guest chamber he could find in the east wing. He even went to his own chamber, but the door was locked tight, just as he had left it. She could not have gotten into there.
She is blind. She could be stumbling around this house completely lost!
He reached for the stairs and hurried down, cracking his neck for he cranked his head back and forth so many times in his search for her. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw the corner of the hall rug turned up, as if someone had tripped on it.
He followed the path someone would have had to take to cause the rug to flip up in such a way, striding into the parlor through an open doorway. Lightning flashed again beyond the windows, and this time, the thunder rumbled so near that he could practically feel it vibrating his insides.
“Charity?” He did not bother with her title as he hurried through the parlor now.
At the other end of the room, an ornament had been knocked over on the table, though fortunately, it had not smashed. He passed through the nearest door into the music room, for someone could have easily caught the ornament with their sleeve if they could not see where they were going.
“No…” A low murmur sounded in the room.
Thunder came again and as the lightning thrashed, Seth momentarily had full vision of the music room. Beside the piano, crouched down on the floor was Charity. She had her hands over her ears and her eyes were screwed up tight.
“Charity?” He spoke loud enough for her to release her hands from her ears. In a heartbeat, he rushed over toward her, but she scrambled back as he approached. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You should not see me like this, Your Grace.” She hurried to stand and walked around the piano, using her hands on the back of the instrument to direct her path. “I… I…”
“What of it? Something is wrong, what is it?” He followed her, needing to ensure she was well.
When the thunder came again, she jerked around, her back going to the piano. She accidentally leaned on the keys and the sound of the keys being pressed made her jump once more.
“Charity.” He stepped in front of her, knowing he had to calm her erratic breathing. He took hold of one of her hands, placing it between both of his palms. “Is it the storm?” he asked, his voice soft. “Is that what is upsetting you?”
“I realize it is childish,” she said hastily and tried to retract her hand, but he did not let her. Her head was whipping back and forth, her breathing frantic. He had to calm her somehow. “No one of sound mind should be fearful of a storm at my age, should they? Yet I…”
The thunder rumbled so near that she jumped once more, sitting on the keys completely this time. The clashing sound erupted between them.
“Well, at least you are adding to the music of the night.” His joke startled her, her chin lifting a touch. “Worry not. We all have our fears. I would say a storm is a justified one.”
He left out everything else he intended to say—that he could understand perfectly how frightening a storm might be if one could not see it. The sounds, the rumble of the thunder, it must have shaken one’s expectations of the world completely.
“Take a breath,” he pleaded, keeping her hand in his grasp. She no longer pulled back from him. “You are quite safe here. The storm is locked beyond the windows.”
