She nodded distractedly. In her dazed state from all the claret, all she cared to really think about was stopping the blood. With one hand outstretched carefully at her side, she found her vanity table and reached in, pulling out a handkerchief. She wiped her cheek, then drew out another and traced her steps back toward the stranger.
By the sound of his footsteps, he backed up from her, colliding with the door once more.
“W—what are you doing?” he said in surprise.
“I am hardly about to produce an aria, am I?” she asked with a small smile as she held out her hand for his. “Come on. Would your pride require you to keep bleeding?”
He did not answer for a few seconds, but his hand eventually hovered near hers, the brush of his fingertips shocking her own. It was such a soft touch that Charity inhaled abruptly. Sheblushed but caught herself. She would have thought an intruder would be sharp, even aggressive or violent, yet this man was rather gentle as she turned his hand over and found the wound in his palm, mopping up the blood.
“Who are you?” Charity whispered as she went to bind the hand with the handkerchief in a makeshift bandage.
“My name is… Seth Colborne.”
“Colborne?” Charity's mind stirred with a flicker of recognition at that name. Somewhere she had heard it, but she couldn’t quite place it presently. “I take it you are no footman?”
“No, I am not,” he said softly. “For all intents and purposes, I am a guest tonight at the ball that had meandered off and gotten lost.”
“For all intents and purposes? You have already shared enough with me that I could have you arrested if I so desired, sir. I think I have earned some sincerity by making it clear that I would rather avoid such an outcome… so is that the truth, or not?”
“Perhaps I was a guest that did not wish to be seen. I came to… collect something from the Lord of the house. When I heard the sound of footsteps, I slipped in through this door. It truly was a coincidence that I stumbled upon you here, my Lady.” His rather formal address of her startled her.
He took his hand from hers and must have finished bandaging the wound himself.
“Thank you for your dressing… and, err, binding skills, and thank you for not screaming the house down and alerting everyone to my presence. I shall keep to my word and leave you now.” She heard the crumpling of clothes, hinting at a deep bow.
Colborne… Seth Colborne…
Charity was certain she knew that name now. He was a man of some position. Even a title perhaps. Or had she seen his name on a scandal sheet somewhere?
“Wait!” she quickly spoke up. “Did you happen to arrive in a carriage perchance?”
“…Naturally,” he answered, rather tightly, as if taken off guard by her question. “I apologize once more for my intrusion. I wish you a fine evening.” He turned the lock in the door and twisted the handle, she heard the sounds of it distinctly. For she had done so herself countless times before.
A wild idea entered Charity’s head just then, perhaps the most outrageous notion she had conjured up in her entire life. Here was a man who didn’t truly belong in this house, and he had arrived in a carriage. If she was looking for an escape, a way out of this house, could it be him?
“Wait!” she pleaded again. No sound followed of the door opening, so she presumed he was doing as she asked. “…Take me with you.”
“I beg your pardon?” he spluttered in that deep tone.
“I need to escape this house. At once,” she spoke in a rush. “I am asking for you to take me away from here, just for a day. Consider it a return favor for the one I have just done for you.”
“You areaskingme to help you run away.”
She shook her head hastily. “I am asking you to assist me in leaving for a day. That is all.” If she could just be absent for the wedding day, then there was no way she could be married to Baron Tynefield tomorrow. In his anger, he might even call off the betrothal altogether. “Please,” she whispered once more.
“I cannot do that.” The voice grew deeper, sharper still. “I have broken enough rules coming here at all tonight and being in your chamber. I shall not top all of that off by stealing away the Earl of Holmwood’s daughter.”
“Not even if she is asking you?”
“Of course not.”
“Please.” She stepped forward with doe eyes. From the sound that followed, he must have plastered himself to the door to pull back from her again.
Did he recoil? Did she repulse him?
Perhaps she did. She had no idea what she truly looked like and could only remember the youthful features of the eight-year-old she used to see in the mirror.
“Fine. I wish to escape,” she answered briskly. “I am supposed to marry a man tomorrow I detest. If I can hide somewhere, just for a day, I can avoid it. From then on, I have somewhere else I can go, someone I can write to, someone who can help me. The only favor I ask is for your help for this one day.”
