Page 86 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

Several panicked servants were running about as the housekeeper shouted instructions over the din.

Fenwick was a pillar of calm in the center, directing the boys and footmen to leave the house. Christian looked around for Louise but could not see her anywhere.

“Fenwick!” he shouted.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The butler came forward instantly.

“Where is the Duchess?”

“I have not seen her, Your Grace. She came to retrieve the kitten and went to find you.”

Christian swore. “Fenwick, get out of the house as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Do not leave any servants behind,” Christian insisted as he turned and went back into the house to find Louise.

Panic had seized him. He was convinced that he would somehow walk into the corridor and find his wife on fire or screaming for help.

I cannot lose her.

The thought was clear as day in his mind.

Not now. Not ever.

As he reached the entrance hall, he let out a sigh of relief when he spotted her looking up the stairs, where Marcus and his mother were making their way out of the house. She had Jack in her arms and was clutching him tightly to her.

“Louise,” he said desperately. “Why did you not leave?”

“I wanted to ensure you were safe!” she cried, glancing behind her as the remainder of the servants brought more water and ran outside.

“Come, let us get out of the smoke.”

The orange glow beneath the door seemed to have grown enormously since he had first seen it, and he dragged her outside as his lungs constricted around the toxic fumes.

They ran around the side of the house to the terrace, where a line of servants were dousing the flames with water from the well in the gardens.

Christian looked up at his beloved home, pain gnawing at his chest as he watched the smoke billow upward, obscuring the stars.

“Stay here,” he said to Louise.

“What are you going to do?” she asked, alarmed.

“I must help them, but you stay with my mother and Marcus. Do not go near the house. Please, Louise.”

She nodded.

He ran to the front of the line and grabbed a bucket, getting to work as the servants kept pouring water on the flames. He stepped as far into the house as he dared, throwing as much water as he could on the fire. To his relief, the flames seemed contained to the corner and had not yet had a chance to spread to the ceiling.

There was an enormous amount of smoke, but it seemed that only the settee and the rug beneath it had been damaged. The heat of the fire had lessened, and as they continued their efforts, the flames slowly died down.

Fenwick appeared at Christian’s side, holding a great mass of fabric. Christian recognized it as the old curtains that had once hung in the drawing room, and he and Fenwick threw them over the remaining flames, extinguishing them completely.

As he coughed against the smoke, Christian held out his hand to Fenwick, who shook it warmly. They looked down at the ruined corner of the room. The wallpaper was black, the rug ruined, and the settee a charred ember of its former self, but everyone was alive.

Christian looked back at the servants, all of whom were safe, and then his eyes flicked to his mother and Marcus, who stood on the lawn, watching in silence.

Louise was standing beside them, Jack cradled in her arms, and as their eyes met, Christian felt the same, yawning fear seize him at the thought that he might have lost her.

---