Nothing worked. Because it had been locked from the outside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Panic filled Isobel’s veins quickly.
It was getting increasingly difficult to see and breathe, and with Cecil pressed against her side, she knew it was on her shoulders to rescue them both.
Lightly, she pressed against the hand that was holding the handkerchief to Cecil’s face, and she did her best to take in as much air as she could without inhaling the smoke. Then she screamed.
Her fist came down on the door hard, banging as loudly as she could while she called for help.
“Somebody! Help! Help us! Please help us!”
Cecil tried to assist her, using his other hand to bang against the door as well. With both of them doing their best to attractthe attention of the other occupants, Isobel could only hope someone would come to their aid.
A glance over her shoulder told her that things were only getting much worse. The fire was spreading, creating waves of heat so intense that she could feel it through her clothes. It felt as though every pore on her skin was suffocating, and it did not take too long for her limbs to run out of strength.
Isobel staggered and slumped against the door, her vision blurring slightly.
“Isobel!” Cecil cried, reaching for her.
“I’m – I’m fine,” she mumbled, blinking as the world seemed to spin around her.
Sluggishly, she pulled herself away from the door, leaning against the wall instead, coughing as she tried to think of something else to do. By now, the room was almost completely ablaze, and there was no clear path to the window to try to call for help from there. The more time they spent in the room, the more difficult it became to think.
She looked down at Cecil, her heart breaking as the boy buried himself in her arms, clinging to her sides. She had promised him they would overcome the situation that already weighed heavily on them. She had promised Valerie justice. She had been unable to do either.
And now, because of her, they would meet their untimely ends here.
Weakly, Isobel wrapped her arms around him and turned, her back facing the flames. She might not be able to do much, but if only she could protect him somehow… if she could shield him from the flames, even for a little while –
“I’m sorry, Cecil,” she whispered hoarsely. “I am so sorry.”
The rest of her strength faded, and the world darkened slightly around her. Just as she was about to succumb to the darkness, the door snapped open, slamming against the wall behind it.
Richard marched in immediately, relief and concern overtaking his features as he spotted them huddled together on the floor. Quickly, he swept them both into his arms in a surprising display of strength and rushed out of the room.
“Do not worry,” he told them, his voice a quiet rumble that pierced through Isobel’s tired mind.
Her nerves that had been alight with fear and panic only moments ago relaxed at the sound of Richard’s voice, and she clung to him tighter, a sob breaking free from her.
Richard took them downstairs, not acknowledging the servants except to ask one to bring them blankets and some cool water to drink.
He set Cecil down first, then gently lowered Isobel onto a sofa with the utmost gentleness. He tried to move away, but she clung to his arm, shaking her head as she continued to weep.
Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she had known that what she was doing – impersonating Valerie – was utterly dangerous. It was quite clear, and even if she had, in some strange turn of events, forgotten as much, Richard had no problem reminding her as often as he could.
But perhaps, because no attempts to kill her had been made in the last few days, she had believed that the culprit had lost their edge or desire for her blood on their hands.
However, the evening’s events proved that was definitely not true. She had nearly died, and Cecil with her. She had been surrounded by flames, nearly engulfed by them, and had practically fainted. She had almost left Cecil in there, alone, with her corpse as his burden.
Right before the world went dark around her, she thought about her family. Her sisters and brother, who did not know that she had returned to London to embark on this quest. She thought about Valerie, whom she wanted to know deeply, the connection to the sister she had missed before she had even known about her existence. She had thought about Cecil and Nora, immensely sorry that she could not know them as well.
And Richard… she had been overcome with grief and a strange sense of relief, knowing that it would end and she would not need to make attempts to live without him.
Whilst acknowledging that she had fallen in love with him.
“Isobel, it is all right,” Richard told her gently, wiping away her tears. “I have you now. No one will ever lay a finger on you ever again. I promise.”
