Everything else didn’t matter.
Food! Her stomach screamed.
Craning her neck, Charlotte let her eyes sweep across the land. Maybe she ought to follow the stream. Then at least, she would have water and maybe find some berries growing near.
With her mind made up, Charlotte forced herself back on her feet and continued onward.
At some point in the afternoon, she finally came upon a bush that held a few red berries that she’d seen before. However, in that moment, their name eluded her. Once more forcing herself not to rush, she picked as many as she could, sat down by the stream and slowly ate one. Then another. And another.
At night, she once more curled up on the ground near a bush with soft twigs and leaves. In the morning, she woke up chilled as the temperature seemed to have dropped that night. However, as soon as the sun came up and she began to walk, her body warmed up.
For days, Charlotte simply continued onward, following the stream, eating what she found. Her mind remained detached from the past, only focused on what to do next. Her limbs, however, grew more and more slack with each day. Sometimes the lack of food made her dizzy, forcing her to sit or lie down.
After what seemed like an eternity had passed since she had left the asylum, Charlotte came over a small hill and spotted a grand house in the distance.
The reminder of civilisation, of people, hit her with such force that her knees gave in and she sank down. Hitting her head on a small rock, she sagged into herself before rolling down the hill.
Bruised and exhausted, Charlotte tried to open her eyes, but the effort was too much. Her mind protested, forcing them closed, and she abandoned all thought.
Chapter Three – A Brother’s Love
With anger in his heart, Sebastian Campbell, only son to the Earl of Weston, urged his horse onward. Clinging to the back of his chestnut gelding, he gritted his teeth as the blood boiled in his veins. For a moment, he closed his eyes, but not even that allowed him to shake the image of his sister’s face as pain and misery edged into her beautiful eyes.
Cursing under his breath, he guided his mount down the slope and toward his father’s estate, Hartridge Hall. When he finally reached the front stoop, he jumped to the ground, not bothering to toss the reigns to the stable boy who came running toward him. Instead, he climbed the few steps in a single bound and threw open the door before the footmen even had a chance to reach for the handles.
“My lord,” they greeted him, inclining their heads.
Sebastian, however, ignored them. “Where is he?” he demanded, a snarl on his face. “Where’s my father?”
“In the study,” one of them replied, his face tense with discomfort.
Striding onward, Sebastian tried to force his muscles back under control, lest he strike his father on sight. Not that the man didn’t deserve it!
Before he had reached the hallway leading to his father’s study, a soft voice called from the upstairs landing. “Sebastian, you’re home.”
Stopping in his tracks, Sebastian looked up and saw his mother hurrying down the stairs, a glowing smile on her face as she came toward him. “Hello, Mother.”
“I didn’t expect you home so soon,” she said, wrapping him in a soft hug. “How was the continent? Did you enjoy yourself?”
With hard eyes, he glared at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he hissed, and her face instantly changed.
Gone was the delighted smile, replaced by an expression of haunted guilt. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I pleaded with him but …”
Gritting his teeth, Sebastian nodded, knowing only too well how unrelenting his father could be. “You could have written to me,” he said, shaking his head. Again, his hands balled into fists as his anger boiled hot in his veins. “I’ll kill him for this,” he snarled, then stormed off.
“Sebastian!” his mother called after him, her dainty footsteps echoing behind him on the parquet.
Not bothering to knock, Sebastian threw open the door to his father’s study, bursting in like a madman bent on carnage.
Instantly, his father’s head snapped up, disapproval marking his face at the intrusion. However, the moment he recognised his son, the corners of his mouth curled upward, and he slowly set down the quill he had been holding. Then he rose to his feet. “I see you have returned.”
“How could you?” Sebastian snarled, glaring at his father, fighting to keep control. Never in his life had he been this angry…or this miserable. “Is this why you sent me away? So, you could do as you please?”
A hand on his rounded belly, his father laughed, “I always do as I please. It’s a prerogative of my station.”