Her fingers latched upon a heavy rock. She raised it toward the door handle, then hesitated. The moment she tried to break the lock, the loud noise would undoubtedly alert Monty to what she was doing… but this rock could have another purpose. It could be a weapon.
Tucking the rock behind her back, she inched toward the first door.
“I… I need to speak with you,” she called to Monty, trying to keep her voice steady.
“So speak,” he grunted back.
“I need water. I am extremely parched… from all the shouting. Could you please fetch something for me?”
“Pah!” he huffed with a throaty chuckle. “I’ll humor ya this time, lass, but let this be a lesson for next time.”
“Yes, yes, I apologize,” she hastily replied. “I will be on my best behavior from now on.”
He seemed to exhale heavily on the other side of the door, followed by the distinct noise of metal and glass clattering.
The lock clicked as the key turned and the door swung inward. Monty’s heavy breathing sounded, showing he stepped in through the door.
“Here, take this.” Whatever he thrust in her direction to drink, she did not take it. Instead, she lifted the rock and struck out with all her might. Unable to see where it landed, she couldn’t be sure where she was hitting, but his sudden cry of pain showed she had to at least have struck him. “Argh!”
A soft thud came as he seemed to drop to his knees, and Charity jumped over his legs. With her arms outstretched wildly in front of her, she felt her way around the room.
“You…” Such curse words left his lips, it showed he was still conscious, but he had to be injured enough that he couldn’t follow her right away.
She found another door, lifted the handle, and managed to push this one open. She ran out of the barn, hardly caring that she didn’t know where she was going. More than once did she stumble, her feet struggling in shingle, then long grasses.
“Come back here!” Monty’s voice followed her, but she didn’t once let up. She just kept running, judging the long grass to be on some sort of farm as she ran headlong into a fence. She nearly toppled straight over it, and winding herself, managed to clamber past it and land in mud.
The rough track stretched out beneath her, and she used her hands on nearby hawthorn bushes, their thorns sticking sharply into her skin, to guide herself down it.
Suddenly, the sound of a horse neighing some hundred yards away caught her ears.
“Help. Help!” she cried out, floundering her arms. If it was a carriage or a rider, then surely she was saved. She could get away from here, before Monty caught up with her. “Please, help me, someone is chasing me!”
The carriage came to a skidding stop, its wheels slicing through the mud, prompted by the driver's command. The door swung open.
“Please, I need help. I was—I was abducted,” Charity called toward the sounds, her hands reaching out to someone who must have been jumping down from the carriage.
A hand latched around her wrist, tight and firm.
“Ow!” she cried in surprise.
“Monty, you had one job you buffoon! She’s over here!” Luke’s voice pierced through the air as he dragged her back down the track.
CHAPTER 24
“We have found Shelby, Your Grace.” Bates’ words made Seth leap to his feet. He’d not been able to eat anyway but had sat at the table gaping at the plate of food quite blankly.
“Where?”
“The gardener found him under a bush in the garden, nursing his wounds.”
“Wounds?” Seth repeated in alarm. The distant sound of barking cut through the conversation, propelling him into motion without a moment's hesitation. He dashed from the room as quickly as he could and followed Rufus’ barking. He hastened through the corridor and the entrance hall where two of the maids leapt back in alarm. Bursting out of the door, he jumped down the front stoop, heading to the garden and still following that sound.
Rufus caught his eye first. The hound was scuttering up and down in front of a hedge, barking wildly at the sky, as if he was possessed. The spattering of blood near Rufus’ feet hastened Seth's steps, fear gripping his heart. He found the gardener already at the scene, gently attempting to lure something—or someone—out of hiding.
The dog was curled up in a tight ball. Blood seeped from his shoulder, and he whimpered with every breath. Now that Seth had arrived, Rufus quietened and lay down beside them. He rested his head atop Shelby’s back, an act of comfort between the dogs.
“Your Grace,” the gardener muttered, his tone laced with horror as he gently parted Shelby’s fur around the wound. “The hound… he has been…”
