Page 37 of Taken by the Rake (The Scarlet Chronicle 3)

Nine

Honoria balked andtook a step back, despite the fact that the sounds of men on the stairs grew louder. “You cannot be serious.”

“Do you have another idea?” he asked, ducking and putting his head out the window.

She had no other ideas. “Surely there must be something we could do other than plummet four floors to the ground. I might prefer the guillotine to jumping.”

“We won’t jump to the ground.” He put one leg through the window and beckoned her. “Trust me. I have done this before.”

“You’ve jumped off the roof of a building before?” She moved closer to the window, but didn’t extend her hand yet.

“I’ve jumped from a window. Take my hand. Hurry or they’ll see you.”

Honoria looked over her shoulder, then around the sparsely furnished room.

Nowhere to hide.

Nowhere to go but into the hands of the Guard.

With a groan of frustration, she put her hand in his, wincing a bit when he touched the tender scrapes, and allowed him to help her from the window. Outside the wind was cold and stung her cheeks. It blustered around her, making her hair whip about her face. The reddish-brown brick of the roof was not as steep as it had looked inside, but the wind made it difficult to keep her balance.

The marquis reached around her and shut the window. “This way.” He pointed higher onto the roof. The window jutted out, forming a small ledge, and he used this to climb higher. Against her better judgment, she followed him, perching on the roof’s pointed summit. Her head spun, and she did her best not to look down or up or to the side. Honoria kept her eyes on the ledge where her feet rested.

Montagne, on the other hand, did not seem troubled by their height at all. He stood, hands on hips, surveying the surrounding area. “There’s the Conciergerie,” he said, pointing.

Honoria wanted desperately to take his hand and force him to sit down. She was dizzy just looking at him.

“And if it was a bit clearer, I would be able to see the Temple.”

“Thank you for pointing out the various prisons. Now do sit down and be still.”

“You don’t like heights,” he said, still standing and turning to look about.

“No. I like my feet on the ground.”

“You are perfectly safe here.”

As though she believed that! “What if they open the window and see us?”

He furrowed his brow, then marched across the roof. Honoria closed her eyes and held her breath until she heard his quiet footfalls return. “Do you see that stovepipe?”

She followed the direction in which he pointed without lifting her head or moving her body. She wanted to remain as still as possible. “Yes.”

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