37. Claire
Claire
It was almost impressive how quickly Garrick assumed the role of the perfect victim.
By the time the guards dragged us out into the courtyard, he’d already put himself back together.
With his coat draped neatly over his shoulders and his posture perfectly composed, you’d think the fire was nothing but a mild inconvenience.
He was already barking orders, commanding a flurry of servants who appeared with trays of water, fresh scones, and change of clothes for the guards.
Hospitality, in the middle of disaster.
Behind him, his mansion still smoldered. Smoke rose thick and dark into the sky as firefighters rushed in and out of the ruined wing. My room was reduced to blackened beams and ash. Miraculously, they’d contained it, but it was too late to save what mattered.
I sat on the grass draped in a rough woolen towel which did little to stop the shaking. My hands trembled uncontrollably in my lap, fingers curling and uncurling as if they belonged to someone else. I couldn’t get warm—not even with the fire still burning behind me.
“We cannot thank you enough,” Garrick said smoothly, pressing a cup of water into one of the guard’s hands. “You came just in time. We would have been trapped inside if not for your quick thinking.”
My head snapped up. “He locked me in that room.”
One of the guards glanced at me briefly before turning back to Garrick.
Garrick’s eye twitched.
“The fumes have gotten to her. We were together in the room, alone. I’m afraid she’s not thinking clearly.”
“We most certainly were not,” I snapped, pushing myself upright despite the dizziness that followed.
But no one looked at me. They were too busy eating and too busy listening. Garrick didn’t even spare me a glance this time as he continued.
“We were inside when that woman forced her way in. She must have broken into my home.” He gave a slight pause, just enough to let the implication settle. “I suspect she may have been the one to start the fire.”
The guards nodded slowly, expressions tightening with understanding. Of course. It made perfect sense for them to believe his words and not mine. Garrick had wealth, status.
Versus me. I was smoke-stained with no wealth and no status. I was nobody in this city.
My nails dug into my palms. Nobody was coming to save me. Not even—
A shout cut through the air to my right. I flinched, my head snapping toward the sound just as a guard stumbled forward, cursing. Boots pounded against the dirt, fast and frantic.
Ash crested the hill in a wild break for freedom, blood trailing from her nose in a dark, steady line. Her hands were still bound in iron, but it didn’t slow her.
“Ash—” The name tore from my throat before I could stop it.
Relief hit first. Then fear, because she wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Stop her!” one of the guards barked behind her.
Ash didn’t look at them. She locked her gaze on Garrick. The duke stood at the base of the steps, untouched by the chaos, his expression unreadable. If anything, he looked intrigued.
Ash slowed as she reached him, chest rising and falling hard.
“I need a private audience,” she managed. “Now.”
A murmur rippled through the guards. One of them let out a disbelieving scoff.
“You just broke from my men, and you think you’re in a position to make demands?” Garrick replied.
Ash didn’t flinch. “Please.”
The word shouldn’t have sounded like that coming from her. Not from Ash, who snapped and snarled and never bent for anyone.
Garrick’s eyes flicked over her. Then, to my growing horror, he chuckled under his breath.
“How fascinating,” he murmured.
The guards hesitated.
“Give us a moment,” Garrick said.
My heart dropped. No. No, no—
Ash didn’t move as the guards pulled back, forming a loose perimeter. She stepped closer to Garrick, just enough that their voices wouldn’t carry. I strained to hear, but their words dissolved into nothing, swallowed by distance and the pounding of my own pulse.
Garrick spoke first, and Ash answered without ever breaking eye contact. The amusement died on his face, gradually giving way to a calculating stare.
What was she doing? What was she saying?
Then Garrick leaned in just a fraction, his expression darkening with interest. Whatever passed between them shifted something—something I couldn’t see, couldn’t understand, but felt all the same.
A slow, creeping dread settled deep in my bones.
Because Ash had come here for me.
I knew that.
So why did it feel like I was watching her give something away?