Seth cried out in alarm, leaping almost out of his skin.
He whirled just in time to see Amelia putting down an empty bucket and struggling to lift a full one that stood at her feet.
Before Seth’s brandy-addled reactions could kick in, she tossed it into his face, too. The icy water took his breath away.
He gasped and spluttered. Then he lost his footing as he staggered on the wet cobbles and sat down heavily.
Amelia stood over him, hands on hips.
“That is the least you deserve for your behavior today, Your Grace,” she uttered angrily, “my family and I are going to retire for the evening and, in the morning, shall look to return home. I suggest that you sober yourself.”
CHAPTER 10
Charlotte couldn’t sleep.
The mattress was lumpy, the room draughty, and every beam seemed to groan in protest of its own age.
But that wasn’t why sleep eluded her.
It was the image of Seth, soaked and staggering, collapsing into the trough in the stable yard—drunk, shivering, gasping. The man who had once seemed so regal, so untouchable. A warlord in evening dress. A feral god.
Yet, he had looked so…human.
With a sigh of frustration, she pushed back the bedclothes and crossed the room barefoot, reaching for the heavy wool dressing gown she’d found in the wardrobe earlier. It dwarfed her, the hem skimming her ankles, the sleeves swallowing her hands. It smelled faintly of tobacco and leather, worn soft with age.
And it probably belonged toSeth.
She glowered and tightened the belt.
“Amelia, you had better write to me soon and explain yourself,” she grumbled into the damp air. “I cannot believe the lengths I am going to for you.”
But even as the words left her mouth, she paused. Was it really for her sister?
If I felt nothing for Seth, would I persist despite all the provocation he offers? Appearing drunk in front of me and my family. Abusing his servants. Behaving boorishly. Why am I so drawn to him?
Perhaps because, in between the drunken stumbles and careless charm, he burned with something wild and unrepentant.
He wasn’t kind. He wasn’t safe. But he was alive—too much for the world around him, and too much, apparently, for her to ignore.
He made her furious. And he made her feel awake in a way no one ever had. He didn’t treat her like glass, yet the moments where his passion seeped through, he’d treat her like nothing less.
Even soaked and swearing in the mud, he was still the most vivid being in the world.
She scowled, dragging the dressing gown tighter around her.
“This is absurd,” she muttered, pacing from the room. “He’s reckless. He’s rude. And he deserved nothing less.”
In spite of it all, she decided to check that he had made it back to his own bed and that, if he had fallen into a drunken stupor, he was at least warm and safe. His servants should be ensuring that, at least, but she would forgive them for not doing so if his behavior at dinner was typical.
First, she checked his rooms next to her own. She listened at the door but could hear nothing. She knocked softly and then slipped in.
The outer room was dark, as were all the subsequent chambers. His bed had not been slept in. She left Seth’s rooms and descended the silent house’s main staircase. At each turn, a window looked out over the stable yard, which was moonlit and empty.
Reaching the ground floor, she realized that she had no clue where to look next, so she began opening doors and peeking inside. Everywhere was moonlight, and it spilled through the windows and shadows. Seth could be hiding in any of them, but she didn’t think so.
Finally, Charlotte found herself in a library. The floor was wood and dusty from the musty smell that rose as she walked. Bookshelves filled the room, against the walls and freestanding.A large circular window in the ceiling beamed a pale halo at the center, but otherwise, the room was dark.
Charlotte paused after advancing halfway into the room. There was no sight or sound of another soul within. Her bare feet were dusty, and she was beginning to despair of finding Seth.
