Page 100 of Claiming his Cursed Duchess
Adam bowed to them both, relief flooding through him. He knew the Black Heart, it would not take him long on horseback to reach it.
“Thank you, Duke, Duchess. I hope that I can meet you again in more felicitous circumstances.”
He turned away, walking swiftly to the door and out into the dark night ahead.
A few more hours, Rosaline, and then we will be together again, and I will spend my life trying to deserve you.
Rosaline watched the fire spread at a terrifying speed.
No sooner had her uncle left the room than the floor seemed to be a sea of flames licking at every surface. She could not even climb upon the bed as refuge—it too was soon on fire.
Panicked, she held her arm over her mouth as thick, foul-smelling smoke surrounded her.
She pulled herself to her feet, rushing to the window and throwing it open.
She looked down at the ground beneath, but the drop was too far and there was no roof to climb on to break the fall.
Turning around with determination, she looked along the floor for any way of escape.
The flames were making a snaking path beneath the bed and spreading outward but Claridge had been careful not to put too much brandy by the door to secure his own escape.
“Damn you, Uncle!” she hissed under her breath.
She calculated her path, holding her breath as best she could, and took a careful step back.
She lifted her skirts up to her knees, steadying herself, before she ran forward, leaping from the ground and throwing herself over the flames.
The heat was vicious and all-consuming as she passed over it, but she landed on the other side of the fire without injury.
Heat at her ankle made her look down in alarm. Her gown was on fire. With swift jerky movements, she stamped at the tiny flames until they were extinguished, wrenching open the door even as the handle burned hot against her palm.
In the corridor outside all was chaos.
There were screams from the other rooms, and thuds and bangs from downstairs as people shouted instructions to one another that she could not make out.
She turned, making for the top of the stairs to head down to the safety of the lower floor. But as she spun around to head in the right direction, a shard of pain shot through her skull, and she cried out, collapsing against the wall and sliding to the floor.
Her head was pounding unbearably. Try as she might, she could not summon the strength to pull herself to safety, and she was unable to open her eyes fully.
Blackness crept across her vision, the smoke billowing out of the open door begin her as the flames began to spread into the corridor at her side.
Coughing and spluttering she clawed at the floorboards, trying to wrench herself forward, splinters of wood driving beneath her nails.
Sobbing, she looked up at the seething inferno as it seemed to engulf everything around her. She lay on the floor of the inn, waiting in despair for the flames to consume her.
Oh, Adam. I am so sorry for everything.
He smelled the smoke before he saw the flames.
The thundering beat of his horse’s hooves were all Adam had heard for the last half mile, as the glow in the sky ahead grew more pronounced and his heart thrummed in his chest.
That is The Black Heart, it has to be. There is not another building for miles. My God, what has happened?
The horse was slowing by the time he reached it, spurring her on so blindly that she was close to collapse.
He hurled himself from the saddle as they arrived, running forward to the front of the inn. Black shapes flitted about in front of the flames as people flooded from the building.
The air was filled with the sound of distant screams and the ominous, endless crackle of the fire.
