Chapter 18
“Heather.” Percy put a hand to her shoulder. “Heather!”
She shook her head, her pulse fluttering.
Cursing, Percy moved about the room. There was a rattle and another curse.
This is it, Heather thought. They were going to die. She would never see her friends again, never be able to tell Percy just how much she’d come to care for him. The fire would claim them, just like a fire had claimed her parents.
Her mind’s eye filled with memories of that horrid day—the charred skeleton of her childhood home, the scent of smoke permeating the air, the screams of her parents and the staff as they burned…
A shiver racked her frame, and tears prickled at her eyes.
“For fuck’s sake, Heather!” Percy shouted, his face appearing before her, his hands clutching hers. “Do you not smell the smoke? We must go!”
She blinked, and he huffed a breath, turning on his heel and pulling her along with him toward the door. He tugged it open, and smoke billowed in.
Heather’s throat all but closed up as terror seized her.
Percy cursed, then peered through the smoke-filled corridor. He coughed, closing the door again.
“The fire has reached our floor,” he said urgently. “We must take the window.”
We’re going to die.
He turned and pulled her to the window, tugging the curtain aside and throwing up the sash.
“You don’t mean f-for us to scale the side of the building, do you?” Heather asked, aghast.
“Just to the rooftop.” Percy stuck his head out the window and looked up. “This roof connects to the next, and there are adequate footholds in the woodwork and the holes in the siding—”
“But how will we get down from the other roof?” Her voice had gone shrill with panic, but she could do little to contain it.
We’re going to perish. You’ll never make it home, her inner voice repeated. More people screamed, and Heather’s heart constricted. We can’t make it.
“Listen to me.” Percy gripped her shoulders and brought his face to hers. “We’re going to be fine, as long as we escape now.”
Now. But the fire…
“Now, Heather.”
Bending out the window to peer up at the roof through the rapidly diminishing light, Percy swiftly mapped out potential routes in his mind before turning back to Heather.
He bit back another curse. She was fading in and out, one moment conscious of her surroundings, and the next lost in her panic. He’d seen this sort of terror, was fully aware of how dangerous it could be. And now was no different. He needed Heather to focus.
Smoke billowed through the cracks around the door, rapidly filling the air and growing denser toward the ceiling. If they didn’t escape now, the air would become unbreathable, and they would, indeed, perish.
Worry churned in his stomach as he watched the emotions play over Heather’s face.
Evidently, she was afraid of fire. It would explain her desire to keep the lanterns unlit in his cabin.
It was a fear, however, that they hadn’t the time to politely navigate.
He would have to take matters into his own hands, her feelings notwithstanding.
“I’m sorry, Heather, but we cannot prevaricate.” Without another word, he lifted her in both hands and set her bottom on the sill. “Hold fast, here and here,” he instructed, guiding her hands.
He reached after her, starting with one foot and securing a holding, before letting his body follow. The siding was dry and slightly crumbly, but it held his weight. Once he had entirely stepped out on the ledge, he guided Heather.
“Come along. Step just there,” he urged. “That’s right. Now step to that hole and test it with your weight.”
She did as he bade, her fingers trembling and her breaths coming rapidly.
“You’re doing so well,” he said encouragingly, side-stepping along after her.
“There they are! Just there!” A shout rang out in the street below them.
Fuck. They’d been spotted.
Crack-thunk!
Heather screamed as the plaster next to her head exploded into dust.
Crack-thunk!
Jesus fuck, they’re shooting at us. Percy’s heart hiccoughed, and he reached out to Heather in an attempt to shield her.
“Don’t shoot, you fool!” the Earl of Hanley’s voice echoed. “She’s no good to me dead. Go to that building. We’ll cut them off on the ground.”
Percy urged Heather upward, guiding each step, even while his heart beat a tattoo against his ribs.
“It’ll be all right, Heather,” he soothed, calling up to her. “You’re doing so well.”
Christ, but her movements were stiff and trembling.
“Only a few more steps.”
She reached the roof’s edge, and she hesitated. “I-I don’t know if I can, Percy.”
Smoke billowed around them and burned his lungs, but with effort, he kept his voice steady. “Grip the edge with one hand and place your foot just there in that hole, then lift. I will position myself beneath you and give your bottom a push and help keep you steady.”
Heather hesitated again, but nodded. “I trust you.”
Following his directions, Heather pulled herself up as Percy pushed her arse. It was a decidedly lovely handful, but this was not the time to ruminate on it.
At last, she scrambled up the roof, and a part of Percy’s fear uncoiled.
He shadowed her movements, his muscles straining and a sweat breaking out across his brow. With one last heave, he pulled himself onto the roof.
“We made it,” Heather breathed.
Striding closer on careful footing, Percy gripped Heather’s hand in his. “Are you well, sweetheart?”
Her lips thinned, but she nodded again. “No, but I’m alive and with you, which is infinitely better than the alternative.”
Percy lifted a brow. “Not quite. We must still escape this fire and flee your affianced.”
“Very amusing, Percy,” she grumbled.
He flashed her a grin and started off along the rooftop, her hand still clutched in his. The farther they traversed, the clearer the air became. But danger followed them. The earl’s men were no doubt watching, waiting to strike the moment he and Heather attempted their descent.
So he urged her faster, racing along the row of weathered rooftops.
They were nearing the end when a loud crack rent the air, and the world fell out from beneath him.
Crack!… Thunk!
In the span of one thunderous beat of Heather’s heart, Percy was ripped from her grasp and gone in a cloud of dust and coal residue.
She skidded to a halt, her boots scraping along the roof slats. “Percy!”
There was a groan and a cough. “I’m well. The roof gave out.”
She waved a hand in the air in an attempt to better see down the hole. Blimey. “Come, I’ll help you up.”
There was a shuffle of movement, and motion in the shadows, but she could scarcely see at all through the darkness.
“It might be simpler if you come down to me. We can exit through the building and hopefully misdirect the earl’s men.”
Shouts rose up in the distance, and her pulse jumped. “Yes,” she urged. “Get me off this roof; I’m a veritable beacon up here.”
Despite her instincts screaming at her to do otherwise, Heather approached the hole and crouched. Creak. She stepped back with a gasp.
“It’s not sturdy,” she said, her voice wavering. “How am I to sit over the edge when it is threatening to collapse?”
“Just drop down,” he urged. “I’m here, ready to catch you.”
She bit her lip. “Drop?”
“Yes. It’s not as far down as you might think.”
As foolish as this plan was, she trusted the man. So, her perspiring palms and quavering nerves notwithstanding, she lowered to her arse, slid to the edge of the hole, and dropped.
Whompf. Just as he’d said, Percy caught her with a grunt before setting her on her feet.
“There, now,” he murmured, clasping her hand in his. “Safe. Are you well?”
Heather took stock of herself and smiled ruefully. “Trembling slightly, but a mite better than I was a quarter of an hour ago.”
“Good. Let’s find our way out of here.”
Together, they navigated the dark attic rooms and descended the staircase. The floor boards creaked and groaned beneath their weight, the walls echoing back their rapid breathing and the clunks of their bootheels.
What was this place? Why was there no one around? Heather squinted through the darkness but couldn’t identify anything around her. Where were the candles, the lanterns?
Percy led the way, but she hadn’t the faintest idea how he could ascertain their direction. They descended two more narrow staircases and turned down a hall.
He stopped. “Fuck. We’ve hit a wall. This is the wrong way.”
They spun around and carefully navigated another corridor before they reached the diminutive foyer. Relief loosened the knot in Heather’s stomach, and she reached for the door.
“Don’t,” Percy whispered. “They might be out there. Allow me to check first.”
The knot twisted tighter again, but she wouldn’t allow fear to make her cower when she was capable of fighting. “I have my dirk. I can defend myself.”
His lips thinned, but he nodded. “You are correct. We shall go together.”
With a buoyancy in her heart that she hadn’t expected to feel at his words, she opened the door. Beyond was a narrow dirt road with a wood-planked walking path on the opposite side. Smoke blew through the air, almost entirely covering the scent of the ocean.
“It’s clear,” Percy breathed. “Let’s go.”
Heather gave a nod and followed Percy onto the dirt road. Keeping to the shadows, they sped to the next building and pressed themselves against the door.
“There they are!” a man bellowed.
Percy cursed. “Run.”