Page 82 of When the Duke Met His Match

“Theophilus!”

Odette’s voice stirred him from his stupor, and he was finally able to see her worried face above him. The gentle pressure of her hands against his cheeks came into focus while his head ached from its place in her lap.

A flicker of reprieve moved through her eyes until more concern swiftly followed. She glanced over at the ensuing fight, then returned her attention to him.

“Do you think you can stand? We need to get you away from here.”

He nodded as best as he could, then she carefully slid out from beneath him and supported his shoulders. Moving his legs to a squatting position, he slowly stood with the help of Odette’s trembling hands.

When Theophilus was back on his feet, he leaned against her and winced through the pain that thrummed from the back of his head and traveled through his body.

With her arm secured around his back, they shuffled out of the way and out of sight. Limping through the agony, he forced himself to hide the worst of it to spare her.

“Stay with me,” Odette pleaded, guiding him over to the back wall. Her eyes were wide with concern.

He slumped against the wall, aware of the warmth her touch provided against his jaw. He swallowed back the pain and met her eyes, finding comfort within them.

She glanced down at his leg that bled enough for him to feel the dampness on his pant leg. When her gaze returned to him, he watched as true panic flashed back at him. She tried to hide it the best she could, but he knew better. “You’re going to be alright. I promise you.”

Chuckling back at her, he leaned his head against the cold stone. He didn’t dare look down and risk fainting again. His mind and body felt delicate enough at that moment to tempt fate.

“It’s not as bad as it seems. I swear it,” he rasped, swallowing harshly. “Someone must’ve knocked me out after Eric saved my skin.”

“It’s fortunate they assumed you were dead and kept moving,” Odette murmured with tears in her eyes. “I would curse you for an eternity if you were truly gone.”

She bit back the cry that threatened to break her expression. He looked back at her, amazed by the ethereal beauty she had been graced with, even with dust and glass shards in her hair. Even with a confused jumble of emotions coursing through her at once, she was everything he ever wanted.

Theophilus was sure he was smiling like a fool at her despite his wounds and the grave circumstances, but he had no mind to stop. He would rather drown in the throes of her beauty than face the rest of his years without admiring her to the best of his abilities.

A rush of pain made him wince, forced to suck in several breaths as he reached for her, holding Odette as if it were the last thing he’d ever do. She didn’t seem to mind, steadying him in return.

“We’re going to be alright,” she murmured with a sniffle, stroking his hair back gently. “Wright came with his men after all.”

Surprised by the news, he looked across the room to find the cloud of dust with rebels and soldiers alike, dressed in navy-blue uniforms, fighting with the skill and expertise they had spent years training to achieve.

Hope sparked within his chest at the sight of the lieutenant forcing the French rebels back, laying the pressure on to discourage their efforts.

It seemed that risking his own freedom to alert Wright of the plan paid off and the place was overrun with English soldiers securing the room as swiftly as they could manage.

“We did it,” she reminded him, gazing at him as if they were the only two people in the room. “It won’t be long now.”

Able to breathe easier then, he relaxed in her arms and let himself observe the unraveling of the rebels. He didn’t realize how much he needed the respite, even if it was brief.

“I always knew we had it in us,” he murmured, breathing labored.

“You did brilliantly,” Odette whispered to him, gently caressing his cheek.

Even as the rebels fought, the soldiers quickly outdid them as more poured in around them from where the wall collapsed, surrounding them with ease.

“Enough of this!” Lieutenant Wright bellowed across the room with his sword pointed at Pierre’s neck.

The rebels paused with their blades raised defensively, realizing all at once that they were surrounded. There was no way to escape the sheer number of soldiers and their strength. They glanced nervously at one another, unsure of their next move.

“This ends now. Drop your weapons.”

With his stare trained on the apparent leader, the rebels seemed to come to a mutual understanding, and their swords clattered against the ground. One by one, they dropped their blades in surrender.

The soldiers moved in, kicking the weapons out of the way, and directed the rebels to their knees with their hands up.