Lord Valiant by Wendy Vella

Author:Wendy Vella
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Vella Ink
Published: 2015-11-28T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

Charlotte was pale, her face leached of color, and the carriage had begun to smell of smoke, which told Marcus how close she had come to the fire. She was coughing, and her voice was raspy, all signs she had inhaled more smoke than was healthy. Her dressing gown was torn and filthy, and she had lost a slipper but seemed unaware of that fact. Her hair was half in a braid; the rest fell in tangles to her shoulder.

He and Leo had run down Thimble Lane, his heart in his mouth as he realized it was Charlotte’s house on fire. They’d arrived in time to see the boy, Fred, hanging from the window by a sheet. He had caught him and then asked the people gathered who else was in the house. They had told him that only Miss Radley remained.

Only? Dear Christ, his heart had nearly stopped. He’d wanted to run into the flames to reach her, had even taken a step in that direction when Leo gripped his arm and made him stop, telling him that Charlotte was at the window.

He’d seen her then and roared for her to hurry. She’d disappeared, coughing several times, before reappearing. Fear had gripped him as she climbed onto that window ledge and then lowered herself until she was dangling from the sheet. His heart had thumped as he had watched, helpless, Charlotte’s hands moving with agonizing slowness until the sheet had come loose, and she had fallen into his waiting arms.

The entire incident had unsettled him to the point where he was struggling to come to terms with what he felt for the woman. Why did he care so much for her well-being, of all people? She was nothing like the ladies of his acquaintance; in fact, she was not like anyone he had ever known. Surely that was the reason he felt as he did? It was the novelty of Charlotte Radley that made him aware of her. It was simple fear also, Marcus reasoned. The need to see a person he had come to respect unharmed. Nothing more, he soothed himself.

Her eyes were closed, the dark fan of lashes standing out against the pallor of her cheeks, and he clenched his fists to stop from touching her to reassure her that she was safe.

“Chadley will be pleased.”

“He’ll cope,” Marcus said, watching Charlotte’s eyes flutter open at Leo’s words.

“Well, you certainly have the room in that bloody great house you rattle about in,” Leo said.

Her eyes were now moving between him and Leo.

“Where are we going, Lord Needly?”

“To my house.”

“We cannot stay there!”

“For tonight you can.”

“But your staff—”

“Will finally have something to do for the handsome wages I pay them.”

She lifted a hand to push hair from her face, and Marcus saw they were bleeding. Taking them in his, he studied the damaged skin.

“Was this from the sheet?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry you were hurt, Charlotte.”

Her smile wobbled, but she managed one.

When the carriage pulled up outside his house, Marcus stepped down first, then helped her to alight.

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