have lost their strength.
He bent his head suddenly and kissed her full on the lips, a hard, intense kiss.
Then he looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the red light from the fire. “Please do not be missish, Harriet,” he said severely.
“Missish!” Harriet gasped, and then she began to giggle.
“That’s better. Hold on to me.”
Harriet put her arms tightly about his neck. She could feel his muscles rippling under his shirt as he swung down onto the rope, with her tightly pressed against his back.
With a shattering roar the roof behind them gave way, a huge pillar of flame shot up, scorching loose the end of the rope that Harriet had tied to the parapet, and they plunged down into the space between the houses. The marquess braced his feet to take the impact as they struck the opposite building.
Then he began to climb up. White-faced, Harriet clung to him.
He climbed quickly and nimbly up onto the other roof and set Harriet on her feet.
Down below, the crowd cheered themselves hoarse. The marquess looked down at Harriet. Her gown had dried but was ripped and torn. There was a smudge of soot on her left cheekbone and a scratch on her right. Her hair was a wild and tangled mess. Her eyes, looking up into his face, seemed enormous.
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her very gently this time. Harriet closed her eyes. She could hear the roar of the crowd and the greedy crackling of the fire, she could feel her breast being crushed against his chest, and then suddenly all she could feel were his lips moving against her own. The world became dark and silent, an odd mixture of passion and peace.
“Disgraceful!” cackled a malicious old voice from somewhere at their feet. “Kissing and cuddling while I’m at death’s door.”
The marquess gently set Harriet away from him and looked down into the bright evil eyes of the Dowager Duchess of Macham.
“Oh, it’s you. Arden.” The duchess sniffed. “Might have known. Never could leave women alone. S’pose you rescued me.”
“No,” said the marquess. “You owe your life to Miss Clifton here.”
“Her? S’pose she’ll want money.”
“No, she does not want money, you reprehensible old harridan. I wish you had not recovered your horrible senses so quickly,” snapped the marquess. “If your old carcase has as much energy as your tongue, we can make our way out of this building before it catches fire as well.”
“I am going to faint,” said the little duchess, struggling to her feet.
“I do not care what you do,” said the marquess nastily. “I am going to take Miss Clifton to safety.”
“Ha! Take her to your bed, more like.”
“If you, madam, take it upon yourself to broadcast to the world that I gave Miss Clifton a chaste embrace I will personally set you on fire.”
“It ain’t that I ain’t grateful to her,” whined the duchess. “You should take better care o’me, Arden, ‘stead o’ preachin’ and moralizin’. The night air is cold.”
“Then I suggest you warm yourself at your fire,” said the marquess, jerking his thumb in the direction of the blazing building.
The duchess began to moan about the loss of her valuables. Harriet tried to reassure her by saying she had seen a great amount of furniture and paintings piled up outside on the street, but the marquess led her firmly away.
The building they descended into through a skylight had been evacuated, and with the little duchess grumbling behind them, they made their way down through the deserted rooms and passages.
The marquess put an arm around Harriet’s shoulders as he led her out into the square. The noise and cheering of the crowd were deafening. They surged forward, threatening to crush her to death in their enthusiasm.
Mr. Hudson was there, plucking at Harriet’s sleeve and babbling, “The bravest thing I ever saw. You should have told me what you meant to do, Arden. I would have rescued her. I …”
The marquess swung Harriet up into his
He bent his head suddenly and kissed her full on the lips, a hard, intense kiss.
Then he looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the red light from the fire. “Please do not be missish, Harriet,” he said severely.
“Missish!” Harriet gasped, and then she began to giggle.
“That’s better. Hold on to me.”
Harriet put her arms tightly about his neck. She could feel his muscles rippling under his shirt as he swung down onto the rope, with her tightly pressed against his back.
With a shattering roar the roof behind them gave way, a huge pillar of flame shot up, scorching loose the end of the rope that Harriet had tied to the parapet, and they plunged down into the space between the houses. The marquess braced his feet to take the impact as they struck the opposite building.
Then he began to climb up. White-faced, Harriet clung to him.
He climbed quickly and nimbly up onto the other roof and set Harriet on her feet.
Down below, the crowd cheered themselves hoarse. The marquess looked down at Harriet. Her gown had dried but was ripped and torn. There was a smudge of soot on her left cheekbone and a scratch on her right. Her hair was a wild and tangled mess. Her eyes, looking up into his face, seemed enormous.
He gathered her into his arms and kissed her very gently this time. Harriet closed her eyes. She could hear the roar of the crowd and the greedy crackling of the fire, she could feel her breast being crushed against his chest, and then suddenly all she could feel were his lips moving against her own. The world became dark and silent, an odd mixture of passion and peace.
“Disgraceful!” cackled a malicious old voice from somewhere at their feet. “Kissing and cuddling while I’m at death’s door.”
The marquess gently set Harriet away from him and looked down into the bright evil eyes of the Dowager Duchess of Macham.
“Oh, it’s you. Arden.” The duchess sniffed. “Might have known. Never could leave women alone. S’pose you rescued me.”
“No,” said the marquess. “You owe your life to Miss Clifton here.”
“Her? S’pose she’ll want money.”
“No, she does not want money, you reprehensible old harridan. I wish you had not recovered your horrible senses so quickly,” snapped the marquess. “If your old carcase has as much energy as your tongue, we can make our way out of this building before it catches fire as well.”
“I am going to faint,” said the little duchess, struggling to her feet.
“I do not care what you do,” said the marquess nastily. “I am going to take Miss Clifton to safety.”
“Ha! Take her to your bed, more like.”
“If you, madam, take it upon yourself to broadcast to the world that I gave Miss Clifton a chaste embrace I will personally set you on fire.”
“It ain’t that I ain’t grateful to her,” whined the duchess. “You should take better care o’me, Arden, ‘stead o’ preachin’ and moralizin’. The night air is cold.”
“Then I suggest you warm yourself at your fire,” said the marquess, jerking his thumb in the direction of the blazing building.
The duchess began to moan about the loss of her valuables. Harriet tried to reassure her by saying she had seen a great amount of furniture and paintings piled up outside on the street, but the marquess led her firmly away.
The building they descended into through a skylight had been evacuated, and with the little duchess grumbling behind them, they made their way down through the deserted rooms and passages.
The marquess put an arm around Harriet’s shoulders as he led her out into the square. The noise and cheering of the crowd were deafening. They surged forward, threatening to crush her to death in their enthusiasm.
Mr. Hudson was there, plucking at Harriet’s sleeve and babbling, “The bravest thing I ever saw. You should have told me what you meant to do, Arden. I would have rescued her. I …”
The marquess swung Harriet up into his
Similar Books
