When there will be no you to help me?She did not say that part out loud, but it stung her to even think about it. She needed Duncan, and surviving without him was going to be a challenge.
“She is not gone,” Duncan said. “And you need to dispel these thoughts from your head. You’re perfectly capable of anything that you set your mind to.”
He said the words with so much certainty that she almost believed him for a moment. But then reality came rushing back to her.
No, I am not capable of this.It was as though Duncan saw a different side of her entirely that even she did not see. Duncan held her gaze a moment longer, then turned again and continued walking.
Charity followed, hating that her heart was still pounding, and they reached the rear corridor that led toward the garden entrance. Duncan stopped near the door that opened to the grounds.
“Matilda,” Duncan called, “Enough. Come out.”
“You think she’s here?” Charity asked, terrified.
“She will be,” Duncan said, then added as he pushed the door open, as if it were obvious, “she always goes to the garden.”
Charity stepped outside after him, eyes sweeping the path, the shrubs, the benches, and the nearest hedges.
“Matilda,” Charity called again, “Please, love. Don’t do this.”
Still, there was nothing.
Charity’s chest tightened again, and she felt the edge of panic return with the helpless thought that she had lost her. Duncan’s hand landed on her shoulder, firm enough to steady her.
“Breathe, and keep yourself from spiraling.”
Charity swallowed and forced herself to take a breath.
Duncan walked a few steps toward the side path, then stopped near the trellis. There, he crouched slightly and peered behind the low shrubs. Charity was confused by the action. Of all places, she would not have thought to look there.
“Matilda, I am not asking twice,” Duncan said in a calm tone.
A small sound came from behind the bush, half sob, half sniff.
“Matilda,” Charity lunged forward immediately.
Matilda’s head appeared first, hair messy, cheeks red, eyes swollen from crying. She was curled behind the shrub, and the moment she saw Charity, she looked like she might cry harder.
“What are you doing hiding here?” Charity said, her heart beating wildly inside of her chest.
“I don’t want to go,” Matilda whispered, “I don’t want to leave here.”
Charity reached down and pulled Matilda out gently, and Matilda clung to her at once.
“I don’t want London,” Matilda said, speaking quickly now, “I like it here. I like the garden. I like the flowers. I like it when the duke is here, and no one can shout at us.”
Charity held her tighter, her heart breaking at the request.
“You can’t run away,” Charity said, avoiding the topic, “You frightened me, do you understand that? You are never to do that again.”
Matilda sniffed and wiped her nose on Charity’s sleeve without any shame.
“I’m sorry,” she said, then added stubbornly, “but I still don’t want to go.”
Duncan, standing a step back, let out a quiet sound that was not quite a laugh.
“This is not funny,” Charity’s head snapped toward him.
“I did not say it was,” Duncan replied, though the corner of his mouth was still threatening to lift. “She is arguing like Augusta. Perhaps the girls don’t want to leave.”
