Moving off the bed, he stood. After he had left Charity’s chamber, knowing she would soon return with a maid, he’d come to his own chamber, still not fully rested. What amazed him was the peaceful night’s sleep he’d had lying beside Charity on the floor. He hadn’t dreamt of that fire again, hadn’t had to relieve pulling Arthur from the flames only to lose him to the veil of death.
She had brought peace to him for some strange reason.
He had taken a longer nap on the bed, wanting to recapture some of that peace, but one glance at the clock over his fireplace told him it was now around lunchtime, and he had to get up at some point.
“Right. I have to get her out of this house,” Seth said with sudden purpose.
He did not call for a valet, as he employed just a skeleton staff these days and had no need of one. He clothed himself, brushing back his brown hair with his fingers so it rested untidily on his forehead. He did not bother with a formal coat either and merely rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows before leaving the room.
“She cannot stay,” Seth muttered aloud, as though he was arguing with himself. “There would be a scandal brewing if she did. If there wasn’t one already.”
But there was something more to it, something he did not wish to admit aloud.
He was worried if shedidstay, he would have no qualms about spending another night beside her. And if he did so, he was not certain he would be so well-behaved as to sleep on the floor again.
Seth went looking for any member of staff he could find. Yet Bates was not roaming the hallway, shifting his weight nervouslybetween his feet and wringing his hands as he so often did. And Marcus was not nearby either, and though Seth went straight to the dining room, expecting at least Marcus or the maid, Isobel, to be there, he found it just as empty.
The table had been cleaned and he presumed that Charity had eaten in this room at some point today, for either breakfast or luncheon.
Seth turned to leave the dining room when something caught his eye. There was a picture on the wall. Seth froze, staring at it in disbelief.
It was a rather fine painting of the house and how it had once been generations ago in the sixteenth century. The formal knot garden was grand, bordered by yew bushes dappled with red berries.
Seth had put the painting into storage years ago, not having a wish to look at it again. It was what he had done with every picture, painting, or ornament in the house that reminded him of the family and friends of his past.
“What in the devil…?” Seth trailed off and moved to the window of the dining room.
Beyond the glass, he caught sight of someone. He blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight of the day as he recognized who it was.
Charity was walking in the garden. She meandered through the formal borders, her fingers trailing in the old lavender plants Seth’s mother had asked to be planted years ago. At her heels were Shelby and Rufus.
So that is where those hounds have been hiding.
Charity leaned down and allowed the hounds to guide her through the garden. They did an excellent job, taking her from the lavender toward a rose arch that was all thorns at this time of year, with winter and Christmas fast approaching.
It was quite a beautiful sight, seeing Charity smiling as she played with the dogs. It was a far cry from the fear and panic he had seen on her face the night before when he had caught Baron Tynefield trying to force himself on her.
Seth covered his face with his hands. It did not matter if Charity was smiling now. She couldn’t stay. He had helped her for one night, but she still had to go.
Reaching for the veranda door, he flung it open and stepped out. He did not care that it was cold outside in the aftermath of the storm, the wind bitter and whipping around his bare neck and cheeks, for he hadn’t tied his cravat particularly well that morning. All he cared about was speaking to her at once and getting her off his land. Shedidsay she had a place to stay after all.
The dogs noticed he was approaching first. Rufus turned to face him and barked loudly, his tail wagging.
“Who’s there?” Charity called, angling her head to the side.
“It is I,” Seth answered with a cool tone. He approached her in the path and Rufus came to join him, sitting by his ankle and wanting to be petted. Seth absent-mindedly petted the hound’s head whilst he looked at Charity.
She slowly sat down on what she figured was a stone bench, with an outstretched hand. Shelby reached up and laid his head on her lap, clearly wanting more attention from her.
“I see you found my hounds,” Seth said slowly.
“They found me.” Charity smiled and continued to stroke the greyhound’s head, pushing back his ears in a way that he loved. “They are affectionate animals.”
Seth watched her closely for a minute. The housekeeper had a habit of squealing whenever she saw the dogs and there was a maid too who would sooner run from them. It was a surprise to see Charity fussing over them so much.
“You and I must talk,” he said, his tone low. She stiffened plainly in the seat, her head facing forward down the path, her eyes looking toward a spot far from him.
Slowly, Seth stepped forward, his boots crunching the gravel underfoot on the path, with Rufus padding alongside him, panting. Charity’s head angled to the side at the sound, and she appeared to try and follow his path. He wondered if her suddenlyrigid body was a consequence of her thinking he was going to talk of that kiss from the night before.
