In the moment it took for him to orientate himself in the empty bed, he had found his feet and begun to thread the legs of his breeches. He half hopped, half hobbled to the door, flinging it open just as Lydia ran into him. The contact set off a fresh lot of noise, so he gripped her shoulders. “Worry not,” he said. “It is only me.” She gulped the air and stilled but for the trembling shaking her entire frame. Her eyes frantically scavenged his face, finally settling as her breath steadied. “It is only me,” he said again, as much to reassure himself as her. He had not the time to react to the terror in his own heart, but now it settled thickly over him and nearly shook from it. “Whatever is wrong?” “I thought I saw someone,” she said. Without further hesitation, Henry moved her into the house and exited to the yard. Though he was shirtless with his breeches unfastened and feet bare, he scarcely felt the cold as he circled the property near the home and stable.
