“We will settle this matter. Once and for all. To the death!”
Christopher stared at him for a moment.
A duel? He could not believe his ears. Dueling had rapidly fallen out of favor in their society, and certainly dueling to the death. He could not believe Thornmouth was serious. Alas, there they were. Each holding a saber in their hand.
Fencing? Of all things. I never excelled in this sport.
Indeed, he’d been so terrible at fencing, his father had given up giving him lessons and diverted his attention to the horses instead.
“No, please, I beg you!” Rowena called out.
Thornmouth looked up at her. “Yes, we must. You have made it clear. As long as the Duke of Westmond draws breath, you will love him. Therefore, he must breathe no more.”
With that, Thornmouth took a swing at Christopher. He blocked the attack, clutching the saber with both hands, knowing that was a mistake.
He staggered, trying to hit Thornmouth, but failed. Mortified, he had to retreat a few steps, much to the amusement of his opponent.
“I see fencing is not among your many gifts, Your Grace,” Thornmouth mocked him as he sneered.
Christopher’s nostrils flare as he lunged his saber forward toward Thornmouth.
“We shall see about that.”
He raised the saber, holding it more steadily and the two blades crashed into one another with force. The two men stood across from one another, glaring at each other.
For a moment, Christopher glanced at Rowena. The burly man stood and watched, his expression one of utter confusion. The footman, Hector, shook his head and rushed away, leaving Rowena on the stairs alone with Sabrine.
Thornmouth meanwhile, was driving Christopher backwards, toward the wall. Sweat had formed on both of their faces. Yet, Thornmouth looked as though he knew well what he was doing. He looked formidable indeed, while Christopher struggled to maintain his composure.
“Christopher, charge!” she called. She’d watched her father and brother spar many a time for sport. She had handled a saber every now and again as well.
Christopher looked up at her, their eyes locking for only a moment. It was a moment too long. Thornmouth took the opportunity to lunge forward, blades locking once more. He gave Christopher a shove and he tumbled over a marble step behind him, the saber flying out of his hand.
“No!” Rowena shouted and rushed down the stairs so fast her guard could not react in time. She was down on the first floor before he set into motion. Unfortunately for him, Sabrine had her wits together and stuck out one foot, causing the big man to tumble down the stairs. Groaning, and with a look of confusion, he remained on the floor where he landed.
The commotion was enough to divert Thornmouth’s attention. He glanced back to see what happened, giving Christopher the opportunity to regain his composure. Still on the floor, he tucked his legs in and then gave Thornmouth an almighty kick, sending him flying backwards onto the floor.
His saber flew out of his hand as well and Sabrine darted for it. She snatched it before the discombobulated Duke could gather it back up.
Leaving his saber where it was, Christopher lunged at Thornmouth. He planted a facer right on him, causing blood to spray from Thornmouth’s nose.
Enraged, he landed a facer of his own on Christopher’s face, sending him onto the marble floor.
In a split second, both men were on their feet once more. Thornmouth wrapped his hands around Christopher’s neck, squeezing as he struggled. Christopher kicked Thornmouth with all his might, forcing him to let go as he bent over, clutching his stomach.
“Christopher!” Rowena called out. He turned his head and raised his hands as she threw a fireplace poker at him. He used it with much more confidence than he’d had the saber. When Thornmouth launched at him next, his bare hands outstretched, Christopher whacked him in the side.
The Duke flew backward and slid into the adjacent dining room. He landed beneath an impressive velveted tapestry and grabbed onto it to help get up. Alas, the tapestry was not designed for such ventures and came crashing down upon him.
“Devil take it!” he cursed as he threw the tapestry off him and grabbed a poker of his own from the fireplace right beside him.
“You want to use a poker to spar? Very well,” Thornmouth groaned and clambered to his feet.
Of course, I would catapult him right into the vicinity of another fireplace poker.
Christopher rushed forward, followed by Rowena and the young maid. Thornmouth, meanwhile, was leaning against the fireplace, reading himself with the poker.
Christopher was about to lunge forward and resume their fight when a scream shattered the air around them.
“Fire!” Sabrine shouted, her voice full of panic. “Fire! The tapestry!”
Christopher turned and to his horror saw just what the girl was talking about. The edge of the tapestry which Thornmouth had thrown off himself a moment before had landed in the fireplace. It was already ablaze and its flames had already spread to the chair beside it. It was an inferno waiting to happen.
Chapter 34
Rowena darted forward and stopped outside the dining room.
“Damnation!” Thornmouth cursed as he yanked at the tapestry. He dragged it out of the fire which only made the situation much worse. Christopher stepped in, trying to stop the catastrophe from spreading.
“Stop! It will only spread it farther. Get water! Sand! Quickly,” he hollered.
“No!” Thornmouth yelled back. “You will not tell me what to do.” He continued to pull at the tapestry, succeeded at pulling it out. However, as he did so, a spark jumped onto the curtain to the right, igniting it at once.
“Christopher, there is nothing we can do,” she yelled over the increasing crackle of the fire. Smoke was beginning to fill the room. Christopher turned to her, nodded and rushed out of the dining room grabbing her room and pulling her behind him. He stopped at the steps.
“You, footman!” he called to the young man. “Who is in the house but us?”
The young man swallowed. “Her Grace and Peter, the other footman. Francine, Her Grace’s lady’s maid and the butler. The cook is out at the market with the kitchen maid and everyone else was sent back to the country house yesterday.”
Christopher nodded. “Not many others then, that is good. Go and alert Her Grace and the others. Ensure they get out quickly.”
The young man ran up the stairs, a worried eye on the dining room where Thornmouth was now trying to extinguish the flamed by beating on the tapestry with his tailcoat. To no avail.
“Your Grace! You must leave with the rest of us. The fire brigade will be here soon,” Rowena called out. He glanced at her for one moment but the expression on his face told her that he would not do what she’d requested. The opposite in fact. He looked like a mad man.
“Rowena, leave him be. We must save who we can.” He was looking down at Williams, who was now sitting up and groaning but did not appear in a condition to walk. “We must drag him out,” Christopher nodded at the guard.
“Very well,” Rowena squatted down and with Sabrine and Christopher’s help, raised the giant of a man to his feet. Together, they made their way outside, breathing in the clear afternoon air. A large group of people had already congregated outside, watching the flames that were spilling out of the window.
Several rushed up to them and helped them place Williams on the ground, certainly assuming his injuries were results of the fire.
Rowena turned and to her great relief, she saw the Duchess being assisted out of the house by her lady’s maid, the footman, and her butler. The group congregated nearby and the Duchess looked over to other, distress across her face.
“Where is my son?” Desperation and panic were rife in her voice.
Rowena shook her head and pointed at the house. “He has not joined us yet. He–”
“Isaac!” his mother began to wail and attempted to make her way back into the house. She was held back, gentl
y and first and then firmer, by her servants.
“Thornmouth cannot possibly believe he can save the house all by himself, can he?” Rowena said as she watched the flames spill into the next room.
Christopher shook his head. “He seems to believe so.” Then, to her shock, he took off his tailcoat and handed it to her.
“What are you doing?” she exclaimed in alarm.
“Going back in there and saving His Grace from himself,” he muttered. Rowena’s heart dropped and she clasped onto his arm.
“No! Please, do not go back inside.”
Christopher cupped her face and planted a quick, hard kiss on her lips.
“I must. I will never forgive myself if he dies in there. I must at least try. I will be back in just a moment. I promise you. I love you.”
She held on to him for a moment longer, looking deep into his eyes. When she saw his determination, she let go and kissed his cheek. “I love you. Come back to me, quickly.”
He turned away from her and rushed into the house, leaving her to stand on the road outside, with nobody to support her but Sabrine.
The fire brigade arrived a short time after Christopher had disappeared into the building. They stopped on the street and searched the building for a fire mark. Finding it and confirm it to be under their jurisdiction, the firemen began to unroll the hose and operate the pump.
Rowena rushed over to them. “My…” she hesitated and then went on “The Duke of Westmond is inside. He’s gone in to bring out the owner.”
The man looked at her alarmed.
“People are inside the building still?”
She nodded. “Yes, as I said, the Duke of Westmond and the Duke of Thornmouth. Everyone else made it out.”
The news that two Peers of the Realm were in the burning building did speed up the operation somewhat, however, nobody appeared eager to run inside the fire to search for them. Instead, a hose was being placed as close to the window as possible, blasting water into the dining room.
Rowena stared at the building where the flames were now shooting out of two windows. Suddenly, a third shattered with a loud bang, causing the spectators to gasp and turn away. Beside her, Sabrine took a hold of her arm and shielded her from the bursting window. Fortunately, none of the shards came near them, however, the influx of oxygen stoked the blaze further.
“He is not coming out,” she suddenly found herself saying. Tears sprang into her eyes. “He has been in there for far too long. They both have.” She glanced over at the Duchess and the old woman’s expression confirmed just what Rowena had been thinking herself. Both men were lost. They had to be.
How shall I carry on if Christopher does not come out alive? How?
She sank to her knees and found herself allowing Sabrine, a stranger, to wrap her arms around her and comfort her. “No, do fret just yet, My Lady. All is not lost yet, he…” she stopped mid-sentence and let go of Rowena, “there he is now! Look, my lady! There he is!”
Rowena turned and indeed, there, appearing in the doorframe, was Christopher. He was dragging Thornmouth out behind him. The man could hardly stand on his own two feet. Fire men rushed toward them just as Thornmouth recovered his ability to stand of his own accord and pushed Christopher away.
Leaving others to attend to Thornmouth, Christopher made his way down the steps. Rowena jumped up and ran toward him. At the same time, the crowd around them broke into thunderous applause at Christopher’s heroic rescue.
“Christopher!” Rowena called out as he opened his arms wide. She rushed into them, pulling him close. He wrapped his arms around her.
“I told you I would return for you. I will always return to you.”
She looked up, their eyes meeting. “Oh, Christopher, I never want to be without you again. I want to be by your side for the rest of our lives.”
He smiled at her and ran a hand through her hair.
“As do I, my love, as do I. And so, it will be. I promise you.”
And so, as the crowd continued to applaud his heroics, Rowena melted into Christopher’s arms once more, knowing that he was right. Now they were together again, all would, indeed, be well and they would never part.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Rowena sat opposite her father and watched as he contemplated his next move.
“If I move my bishop here then you will certainly move yours–” he muttered and scratched his chin. Suddenly, and to her surprise, he took her hand and squeezed it. “I missed our evenings playing chess. I’m ever so glad we are back to it now.”
Rowena smiled and returned the squeeze. “As am I, Papa, as am I.”
They had only recently returned to their regular games. Despite her father’s agreement to undo the unofficial betrothal to the Duke of Thornmouth, and his agreement to allow Christopher to wed her instead, things had been uneasy between them.
Her father had grappled with the fact that, for the second time, he’d selected a husband that turned out to be less than desirable. Thornmouth’s mistreatment of Rowena and Betsy, had wounded him. As had the secret Rowena and Christopher had kept from him for so long.
With the wedding fast approaching, however, their relationship has slowly returned to what it once was. Almost. Her father let go of her hand and shook her head. “I cannot believe you will be wed tomorrow.”
“Neither can I,” she beamed as she watched her father make his move.
“Now I only need to worry about finding a good husband for our dear Catherine.” He glanced up. “You would not have an idea for a suitable one for her, would you?” There was a twinkle in his eye as he asked, but she suspected he was not entirely joking.
Rowena swallowed and made sure not to look him in the eyes. She clutched her hand around the necklace she was wearing. The one with the rose design which had first brought Christopher and Henry, into their lives. And it was that, Henry’s presence in their life and the role he really played, which had her break into a sweat now.
For, over the past three months, Henry and Catherine had been sharing a clandestine romance, not unlike that of Christopher and Rowena. While it was not a well-kept secret, Rowena was certain her father had not yet found out. In fact, that was the plan. Henry planned to officially make an offer after Rowena’s wedding.
“I am certain you will make a good choice, Papa,” she said and stared at the chess board.
“Because we know I have done such an impeccable job of it thus far.” The wounded tone in his voice struck her.
“Please, Papa, you do not need to chide yourself for–”
He raised a hand. “It is quite alright, Rowena. I know I have made mistakes. Let you down. Perhaps it is for the best you chose your own husband.” There was a pause and he peeked at her. “And perhaps it is wise to allow Catherine to do the same. Although I believe she already has chosen.”
Rowena did not know what to say but as it turned out, she didn’t have to.
Her father smiled. “I may be old, but I am not daft. They do a poor job of hiding their feelings. Do not tell her that I know, about her and young Mr. Newmont. I would rather see her gather the courage to tell me when she is ready.”
Rowena nodded and made her move on the chess board and then was overtaken by a yawn.
“By Jove! I am sorry, my Dear. I have kept you here for hours. It is getting late in any case, my dear and you need your rest for tomorrow is indeed a big day for us all.”
“Indeed, for us all.” She rose and let him walk her to the door of his study. At the door, he gave her a rather unexpected hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. And it is all I want still. You will be happy, won’t you?”
The worry in his voice almost broke her heart.
“Yes, Papa. I will. I know it with all my heart.”
He gave her hand another squeeze and then Rowena walked into the hallway. As she made her way upstairs, she passed Sabrine. The girl smiled broadly at her.
&n
bsp; “Everything is packed, My Lady. We are ready for the big move tomorrow.”
Rowena gave her a gracious nod. “Very well. The house on Half Moon street may be smaller than this one, but it is ever so charming. And the servant chambers have all of their windows,” she winked at her new lady’s maid who returned the smile.
“Yes, My Lady. I saw.”
“I hear it is not far from where your parents live, so perhaps you may be able to see Marigold a little more often.”
A Forbidden Waltz With the Dashing Duke Page 26