Page 52 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
His chest ached with need, but he would not let himself lose control again.
CHAPTER 10
“Tilly!” Edith cried, her voice trembling. She could hear tiny footsteps patter quickly up the stairs, and her heart sank.
Thunder cracked overhead, rattling the windows, and rain lashed the house in heavy sheets. The wind moaned through the eaves like a ghoul.
The town didn’t often see storms like this. It was, in all likelihood, the fiercest storm Tilly had ever experienced.
Edith’s pace quickened as she ran after her. She reached the top of the stairs, pausing to listen, but the hallway was eerily silent.
“Tilly?” she called again, straining her ears over the howl of the wind.
Still nothing.
She pushed open the door to Tilly’s chambers, anxiety clawing at her chest. Perhaps the girl had hidden in there.
She opened the wardrobe, but it was empty. She checked the bed, then crawled on hands and knees to peer beneath it. Nothing.
A shiver ran down Edith’s spine. She had been terrified of storms herself as a child, but Tilly had been through far more than most children. No wonder the storm had sent her running.
Edith stepped back into the hall, her stomach tight with worry. Dinner would soon be ready, and Tilly had not eaten. She realized with a pang that she herself had barely touched her own meal.
The scratch of a quill against parchment drifted from Laurence’s study, and Edith glanced toward the door. Could Tilly have gone there?
She approached carefully and rapped on the door lightly.
“Come in,” Laurence called.
Edith opened the door. Laurence sat at his desk, quill in hand, finishing a letter. He signed it with a flourish, then looked up at her.
“Why are you here?”
“Have you seen Tilly?” Edith asked quickly, wringing her hands.
“No.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I? I’ve been working.”
Before she could reply, another crash of thunder shook the house, making her flinch.
“And?” he prompted, frowning.
Edith bit her lip, suddenly feeling small. Laurence was a strong, commanding man, and she had always felt his presence keenly. But now, panic made her almost desperate.
“The thunder—she was quite frightened,” she explained. “She ran out of the parlor, and I haven’t been able to find her.”
“She’s still in the house?” Laurence asked, standing up.
“She must be,” Edith said. “I searched her room, but she’s nowhere to be found. Please, will you help me find her?”
“I will,” he said, straightening his green waistcoat.
They set off together. Edith moved through the house, calling softly for Tilly, checking the library first—under the tables, behind the shelves, along the rows of books. But there was no sign of her.
Panic clawed up her throat as they moved upstairs. She hurried toward her own chambers, praying she would find the child before she wandered further.
She stepped inside and froze. Beneath her bed, a small, trembling figure huddled.
Laurence knelt beside her. “I know you’re frightened, Tilly, but there’s nothing here that can harm you,” he said, his voice low and soft.
