Chapter 13
Charity had searched for nearly an hour before she admitted what she already knew.
They were not in the castle. At first, she had told herself they were only wandering and would be back soon enough. But when she was unable to locate them, a sort of panic struck her.
If they were gone, they had gone out at night.
Then three figures appeared from the dark.
Duncan came first, lantern in hand, and Augusta was beside him, stiff and pale. Matilda shuffled between them, wrapped in something far too large. Charity’s heart lurched with relief so sharp it almost hurt, but then she saw the sack on Augusta’s shoulder.
Oh.
They had tried to run.
Still, she composed herself as much as it was possible and hurried over towards them.
“Where have you been?”
For one thing, she was happy that they were with Duncan and not alone. She trusted him to take care of them.
“We went for a walk,” Duncan cleared his throat and stepped in.
Charity wanted to believe him, but the expression of guilt on her sisters’ faces was enough to make her certain that he was only lying to cover for them, for some strange reason. She felt curious as to why he felt the need to do that, and then felt angry.
“A walk, really?” she questioned. “At this hour?”
“Yes,” Duncan replied. “I did not know that there is a time frame to take walks.”
“There isn’t. But I find it highly unlikely that both Augusta and Matilda would ask you to accompany them,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “So, clearly, you were not going on a walk.”
“Why wouldn’t they?” he shrugged, as though she was the one who was being ridiculous. “They have decided that they trust me now.”
Charity felt her mouth drop open.
Something had changed that she was not privy to.
“And how did that come about?” she pressed on.
“A sheer stroke of luck, perhaps,” Duncan was grinning now, “but I would advise you to not be so hard on them. It’s been a long… night of walking. And all of us could use some rest.”
“Yes, you should listen to him,” Augusta said. For once, she was not arguing. In fact, she appeared rather timid. “He has a point, and all of us are tired. Besides, you were the one who was saying that patience is a virtue. So maybe let’s patiently let this go till the morning?”
Charity shot her sister a look so lethal that she shut up immediately.
She looked down at Matilda again, and she saw that the child was shivering despite the coat. Her lips were pressed together in a frightened effort to stay quiet, and Charity understood that this was not the moment to demand a confession in the yard, even if she wanted it badly.
“I see,” she said and then lifted her gaze to Duncan and held it. “But maybe, Your Grace, you can rest now. And I can escort my sisters inside.”
“There is no need…”
“I insist,” she said.
In earnest, she wanted him to leave them alone so that she could speak to her sisters privately. But she did not wish to say it outright.
Duncan did not argue with her and turned toward the doors with the lantern still in his hand, leaving Charity with her sisters.
Charity did not speak again until they were inside, and guided them into a smaller sitting room that was close to the entrance hall.
Matilda stood for a second, then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Charity with sudden force. Charity held her at once, tightening her arms around the child with a protectiveness that felt almost painful.
“Are you both doing all right?” Charity asked, aiming the question at both of them.
She was angry, yes. But she still loved them.
Augusta lifted her chin immediately, and her response came too quickly, which made it sound rehearsed.
“Yes, we’re doing fine.”
Charity looked at her carefully, and she did not argue with the words, even though Augusta’s face was pale and her hands were still tense. Matilda’s voice came muffled against Charity’s cloak.
She knew it was not the time.
“I was just really scared.”
“I know, love,” Charity’s arms tightened around her without her thinking.
Augusta’s eyes flicked toward Matilda with a look. It was clear that she wanted Matilda to stop admitting anything and that she wanted her to hold the line. Being the younger one, Matilda found it much harder to lie easily.
Charity met Augusta’s gaze, and she let the silence stretch for a moment so Augusta would feel that she had been seen.
“Don’t do that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are trying to make Matilda go quiet,” she went on. “She is telling me the truth, and I suggest that you learn something from her.”
Augusta’s face paled.
“I…”
She rubbed Matilda’s back once, slowly.
“Sit,” Charity said and guided Matilda toward the nearest chair and eased her down. “My darling, you are safe now, and need not worry about anything. All right?”
“I believe you,” Matilda sniffled softly.
Then she looked at Augusta.
“Why do you think it’s acceptable to lie to me?” she asked as calmly as she possibly could.
“I don’t know why you would think I am lying,” Augusta said. “Have I given you any indication?”
But her voice held no confidence.
“I can call you out on your bluff, you know. You did not go on a walk.”
“We did go out,” Augusta’s shoulders stiffened.
“But it was not a walk,” Charity sighed. She hated to catch her own sister in a lie. Augusta’s eyes flashed with irritation and embarrassment mixed together.
“Why would he lie to you?” she demanded, referring to the duke, “He barely knows us.”
“I suppose he did it out of the goodness of his heart, or perhaps you requested him beforehand.”
Augusta’s expression shifted slightly, and Charity immediately knew that she had been the one to request it.
“And you are sure that he was lying to you?” Augusta said, but this time with less conviction than before.
“I can tell when he’s lying, and I can tell when you are lying too. Besides, Matilda was cold and crying, and I know that she would not be so distraught had it just been for a walk.”
Augusta’s face flushed.
“It could be for anything, surely you are assuming things.”
“For what, Augusta?” Charity lifted her brows slightly, “I would suggest you to not continue this strange lie anymore, as it brings us no benefit.”
Augusta opened her mouth, and Charity could see her searching for an answer that would sound sensible, and then she gave up, since there was none. She crossed her arms again and looked away.
“All right,” Augusta said. “Fine. We did not go on a walk, but we did not want to tell you because you would be upset.”
Charity felt her throat tighten again.
“You thought I would wake and find you gone and not be upset?”
“That’s not what I said,” Augusta’s jaw clenched.
“Then tell me what you meant,” Charity held her gaze.
Augusta’s shoulders rose slightly, and she seemed to be contemplating with herself.
“We thought you would stop us,” Augusta said, quickly, “and therefore it would be easiest to leave when you were not watching.”
Charity swallowed, and she felt a sharp sting of guilt, since she knew there was truth in that.
“So you decided to leave without speaking to me at all,” Charity said, not bothering to hide the disappointment in her voice now.
Augusta’s eyes flashed again, but this time it looked like fear underneath.
“We were going to go somewhere else.”
Matilda shifted in her chair and made a small sound, and Charity turned to her at once, since she did not want the child to be ignored while the older one took control of the conversation.
“Matilda,” Charity said gently, “did you want to go?”
Matilda shook her head quickly.
“No,” she said, and her voice trembled. “I didn’t want to go, but Augusta said we had to, and I didn’t want you to be mad at her, so I just did what she said.”
Augusta’s head snapped toward her, and the look she gave her sister was sharp again, but Charity caught it immediately.
“Enough,” Charity said, and she did not raise her voice. “You are the one who decided it, and you are the one who brought her along, and you are the one who must speak to me about it. So, I am listening now, Augusta. Tell me.”
Augusta swallowed hard, and she looked away again, as if she hated being corrected.
“Why did you think running was the answer?”
Augusta’s expression shifted, and for a second, she looked very young, and then her anger returned as if she could not bear to be seen as anything else. “Because you won’t tell me the truth,” Augusta said.
Charity felt the sting of that list, and she tried not to let it show in her face, but it was difficult, since it was honest.
“You think I have been treating you like a child?” Charity said. “Very well. I did it because I thought I was protecting you…. I just… I do not want you to be afraid. I did not want you to see the things I have seen and know the things I know.”
“You keeping secrets only pushes me away,” Augusta said, and the words came out sharp, like she’d been holding them in her mouth for a while.
Charity didn’t answer right away; instead, she glanced over at Matilda, who was slumped in the chair and blinking slowly like she might fall asleep mid-sentence.
“We will talk later,” Charity said.
Augusta scoffed at that.
“For now, you should be happy that I am not too angry at you,” Charity warned.
“That’s meant to make me feel better,” Augusta said, and she sounded annoyed, but she didn’t push the way she had been pushing with Matilda right there. Matilda yawned, wide and slow, then rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of Duncan’s coat.
“Can we go to bed?”
“Yes,” Charity said at once, and her voice softened for Matilda even though her chest still felt tight. “One of the staff members will escort you.”
“You always end things when you want,” Augusta hesitated at the door, hand on the latch.
“This conversation is over, Augusta,” Charity held her gaze.