His mother's final words to him were that marrying his father was a pivotal moment for her, one that had led her to profound happiness and fulfillment. For so long, both that sentiment and the painting would bring Seth to bitter rage, for that path had been scorched in the wake of the Aldenbury fire, and only led to heartache from his mother who passed shortly after.
Seth could not understand why any person would put themselves at risk of such torture—of losing a loved one, or even losing a soul they cared for deeply. It had led him to self-exile, on the path of retribution to feelanythingagain.
But that foolish perspective disregarded a whole swath of experiences one might share by loving another. By having someone to lean on, to long for, to live through.
He could see now how he had been that flicker for Charity, and Charity had been much the same for him.
And he could finally appreciate his mother’s final breaths for what they were.
“Could I be so fortunate as to have the same luck, eh?” he murmured into the air, blinking once again to hold back tears, though they were happy tears now. With the final document placed inside, he peered into the box, a small smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the contents.
This moment marked a turning point for Seth.
A part of him knew that he may have been inching toward it ever since the night he’d met Charity, inching toward this new life, but when threatened with losing her, his true priorities had crystallized.
Charity became his paramount concern, far outweighing any desires for revenge. Vengeance had only led to his misery, solitude, and a life confined within a manor where pity was the sole form of companionship from his staff. But now, he saw a future brimming with new beginnings and purpose.
With the box now sealed, Seth stepped back, his gaze wandering over the candles that lit the room, their light dancing in the quiet space.
It’s time to let go.
“Ah, I’ve been wondering where you were, old sport.” The voice jolted him from his reflections.
In the doorway stood Luke, quite alone and gawking at him in wonder. Seth said nothing as Luke walked forward, instead peering back into the corridor behind his friend, wondering where Bates was and how Luke had managed to enter unannounced. In his distraction, Luke lifted the lid of one of the boxes and peeked inside.
“Wait… what in blazes is this?”
CHAPTER 21
“You’re stashing all of this away? What in the devil for?” Luke's face turned a shade of raisin purple as he rifled through the papers, his eyes scanning their contents. “This… and this too?! You’re consigning these to storage? Seth, have you lost your senses, man?”
Seth snatched the papers back out of Luke’s grasp and returned them to the box, thumping the lid down on them firmly.
“You are tossing aside everything we poured blood, sweat, and tears for! I can scarcely believe this,” Luke bellowed, making for the other boxes. “Wait a second. It’s Lady Charity, isn’t it? She’s making you do this!”
Seth halted in his tracks, his gaze whipping to Luke.
“Leave her out of this.”
“And why should I?” Luke shouted abruptly, so loudly that his voice ricocheted like a coil back at them off the walls. “You've had the perfect opportunity with her here to bend Lord Holmwood to your bidding, yet you've refrained. Not even once have you exploited that chance. You refused to use her, refused to letmeuse her, and now—”
“She is not a tool to be used,” Seth finally snapped. “She is her own person. She is not her father.”
“But she remains his offspring!”
“And you, Arthur’s sibling,” Seth countered before turning to face him. “Yet my friend is dead and you are here in his place. Now, at least try to muster up some of that wisdom your brother possessed. Can you not see the folly in holding Charity accountable for the sins her father may or may not have committed?”
“May not?May not?What on earth has happened to you, man?” Luke spat as he circled the desk, rounding on him, yet Seth stood his ground, unwavering. “May not have committed? You are as aware as I thatLady Charity’s familywas responsible for that fire. We have known it for years now.”
“And Charity had nothing to do with it,” Seth reiterated with finality. He couldn’t hear her name dragged into this hell. He was prepared to shield her from such accusations at all costs.
“You’ve finally lost all reason…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head, hands on his hips with a smug smirk that spoke volumesof what he thought of Seth’s little tryst. “Mere weeks in her presence and you have discarded all recollection of her father's actions. Do the lives lost that night hold no significance to you—”
“Do not dare lecture me about those lives, Helmsley!” Seth’s voice suddenly thundered, so much so that Luke recoiled, his breath caught in his throat as he gaped. “Who among usallthat night fought for an hour to rescue them?” He advanced, his intensity forcing Luke to retreat around the desk. “Which of us braved the flames not once,” he lifted a finger, then another, “buttwice,just to find the scorched corpses of my father and your brother?”
“Seth—”
“Who of us carried Arthur out on his shoulder in that sweltering heat, hoping against hope to save him, only to be with him as he took his last breath, seeing his head loll back, feeling his heart cease to beat? And now bear the scars of that fateful night to the grave? Who of us did that? Answer me, you dolt!” After years of listening to this same lecture, over and over, his patience had finally snapped, and his calm evaporated in the hellfire rage it released.
