Page 103 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
Small mercies perhaps. My uncle would have slaughtered them all without a second thought.
The horse Adam had arrived on was some meters away from the inn, staying well back from the flames and grazing on some grass. Her flanks were wet with foamy sweat, but her eyes were bright as she watched them approach.
“One more journey, and then we will give you a rub down and a well-deserved rest,” Adam said, stroking her nose as she nickered at him.
It was such a gentle gesture that Rosaline could not take her eyes off him.
There were tight lines of pain around his mouth, although his eyes had softened somewhat.
What fear he must have fought against to run into the flames like that.
“Come, let us get you up and we can return to Oldstone.”
She did not protest as he pushed her into the saddle, pulling himself up behind her and securing an arm around her waist.
They stared ahead of them at the flames that engulfed the inn, huge swaths of smoke billowing upward into the sky as the fire took hold.
Adam directed the horse away from the sight, and Rosaline heard him give a great sigh, a tension in him easing as she leaned into his comforting heat.
“Sleep, my love,” he said softly, the words warming her heart even as a stab of doubt struck her chest. “It will not be long before we are home.”
Her eyes grew heavy as she began to fall asleep.
Home. But for how long?
Although their arrival at Oldstone was unexpected, Adam realized that Rosaline must have sent word ahead before leaving Ravenshire.
Despite the late hour, there were several members of staff awake to welcome them.
The butler’s stoic mask slipped a little as Rosaline staggered through the door on Adam’s arm.
“Call a physician immediately,” he said firmly.
“Your rooms are prepared, Your Grace,” the butler said stiffly.
Adam scooped Rosaline up into his arms again and carried her up the stairs to his own bed chamber. She would not be leaving it any time soon if he had his way, but he knew he still had a lot of explaining to do.
The physician arrived a little time later. He was a passive man in his mid-fifties who had cared for Adam when he was a boy. He had bushy eyebrows and a grim expression that gave the impression everyone he treated was at death’s door.
All the same, after he had examined Rosaline, he rather seriously declared that the duchess would live to see another day and told her to rest as much as possible over the coming weeks.
Rosaline had answered his questions, and he had bathed her head wound, but it was only when Adam had seen him out and returned to the room that her demeanor changed.
Rosaline’s posture was suddenly stiff, her eyes sharp and assessing as he reentered the room.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“I went to Ravenshire to talk to you. Your cousin told me where you would be.”
“Well, now you have ascertained I am safe, I am sure you wish to spend the night apart. Do not feel that you need to stay with me.”
Adam clenched his teeth, tugging at his shirt sleeves awkwardly as she watched him passively from her position on the bed.
“Thank you,” she added formally, “for saving my life. I would not have survived much longer in that place, and I know how terrible it must have been for you to face the flames after losing David.”
“You do not need to thank me.”
“Is that so?” she asked coldly. “I am surprised you felt compelled to act at all. Surely if you had lost a wife, you could simply procure another.”
