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“Be careful,” Fanny said, laughing. “I do not know what I would do if you got a splinter in your paw.”
A heavy clap of thunder split the air, and the kitten leaped to the opposite corner of the basket. Fanny looked up. The sky was churning with grey and black, draped in rain-soaked clouds. She bit her lip with worry, walking faster. Over a hill in the distance, lightning cracked in the sky. Then thunder clapped once again.
Less than five minutes passed before the rain started to pour, one drop, then two, then falling in heavy sheets. The kitten trembled in the corner of the basket, and Fanny quickly removed her bonnet and draped it over the top of the kitten, providing a weak shelter. The ground was slick with rain and mud, and Fanny could scarcely see over the hair and water plastered to her face. She was still at least three miles from the house. The rain soaked cold and heavy through her gown. She shivered. Looking down at the basket, she realized the bonnet was already soaked through, and the kitten was wet and shivering. Thunder split the air again, and Fanny broke into a run.
* * *
The house had been quiet for far too long. Percy stood in the library, pacing to the rhythm of the rain pounding on the window. What had he done? He had hurt Fanny with his dismissal, and now he had no idea where she had gone. The room was cold, and his worry over Fanny only intensified. Had she run away? He had heard nothing in the house since she had left that morning. Perhaps she and Mr. Gregory were halfway to London by now. His stomach lurched at the thought. Unable to stay in the library any longer, Percy moved to the door and walked down the hallway.
“Fanny!” he called. No reply came. Rounding the corner and placing his hand on the banister, he called up the stairs again. No answer. Dread prickled over his skin in a cold sweat. Where had she gone?
The rain pounded harder against the house, echoing in the emptiness, matching the rate of Percy’s racing heart. He rushed down the hall leading to the back door, stopping in the threshold of each room. At the room closest to the back door, he stepped inside, running into something just inside the doorway. He stumbled, reaching out with his hands. He felt the smooth curve of his harp under his fingers. Just to be sure, he felt for the strings. His heart leapt. So it hadn’t been stolen! Not yet. But it had been moved, closer to the back door. If Fanny and Mr. Gregory didn’t yet have the harp, then surely they hadn’t left for good.
Deciding to contemplate the issue later, he hurried from the room and shouted her name out the back door of the house. He heard nothing. Moving faster, he moved through the maze of hallways and found the main doors. He pushed them open and stepped out to the front steps, careful to feel for safe footing on the slick ground. Rain fell down on him in chilled, wet buckets, and the raw smell of mud and earth filled his nose. “Fanny!”
He waited, straining for any sound among the endless chorus of rain and thunder.
“Percy?” A strong but distant voice cut through the air.
Relief flooded through him. He walked toward it, forgetting the wet and cold, pushed forward by the sound. “Fanny, can you hear me?” he called.
“Percy! What are you doing?” She was closer now, and her voice was hoarse. “You’ll catch a cold.”
He hardly listened, but took one more step forward. Her hand wrapped around his arm and she leaned into him. He felt her shiver, vibrating over his right side. “Are you well? Where did you go?”
“I will be fine,” she said in a soft voice, just audible over the pounding rain. “But we must hurry…she is so cold…”
Percy didn’t focus on the strangeness of Fanny’s words, but turned and moved quickly to the stairs, Fanny guiding him up and through the front doors.
“I will go fetch the blankets and meet you in the drawing room,” Percy said in a quick voice. “Light the fire and sit close to it to warm yourself.”
Fanny stiffened beside him. “No! I mean—no. No fire. I am quite well without one.” Her hand uncurled from his arm and she whispered something he couldn’t hear. “But please do get blankets. She is so very cold.”
Percy stopped. “What do you mean? You are not making sense. Are you certain you’re well?”
“It was meant to be a pleasant surprise…” She sounded frustrated.
Percy shook his head, making a note to inquire after her meaning later. For now, he needed to make certain Fanny was warm and dry next to a fire, bundled in blankets and smiling again.
“I will meet you in the drawing room. Do you know how to light the fire?” He stepped away, walking down the hall. “That is all right. Shall I call Diane or Jane to do it? I will show you when I return.”
Without a reply, he walked as quickly as he could until he had gathered an armful of blankets, memorizing the turns and doorways he entered. He slammed his elbow on the edge of the drawing room doorway as he passed it, but he ignored the pain that shot through his arm. “Fanny? Are you here?”
“I’m here,” she said. It wasn’t at all the voice he recognized—full of reservations and something like fear.
Percy moved toward her, and she reached for his arm when he came close. He set the blankets down on the arm of her chair and took several steps forward, feeling for the mantelpiece above the fireplace. “Will you assist me with the fire? I have only attempted to light it once without my sight and nearly burned the house down. Luckily my cousin, Harry, was there to help me.” He smiled a little, but heard no response from Fanny.
“Are you certain you’re well?” Percy asked. He ran his hand over his hair in frustration, releasing droplets of water. If only he could see her…
“P-please. Can we—may we leave the fire unlit? I believe she will be fine now that we have blankets. She has already begun to dry off.”
Percy turned around. “Who isshe? Fanny…I believe the warmth will be of great benefit to you.” His brow creased with worry. Was she delirious? He needed to get her warm and dry as soon as possible.
After rummaging for a moment, he found the tinderbox and stooped over the fireplace. The embers were cold. But Percy remembered the last time they had been lit. It was one of the last times Harry had visited him before leaving for theRoyal Albert. “Please watch and make sure I don’t burn off my eyelashes,” he said over his shoulder, hoping again for a laugh from Fanny. Instead he heard something like a whimper.
“Percy! Please be careful.”
He felt the heat of the first spark ignite a tiny flame in the fireplace. He blew on it gently, and it grew, the warmth radiating slowly. Up and up. He could already feel the heat wicking away the moisture from his hair and face. “There,” he said. “Does it not feel much better already?”
