Page 94 of The Duchess He Couldn’t Resist

Brandon simply pushed through everybody standing in his way, sure that his companions would take care of any threats. He was ready to enter the back room when he heard Johnny’s voice.

“You thought you could come here and take everything from me?”

Brandon turned to the man. He was looking at him triumphantly, as if he had already won. “I will take everything from you first.”

Brandon had to fight to keep focus. This was the man that killed Greta, the man that had threatened his wife, the one that thought he would reduce Marigold to nothingness. He took one step towards him. It was so easy, so close. He could just grab him and snap his neck, once and for all.

“Ah,” Johnny said in triumph. “You’re so close to getting what you want, aren’t you, Your Grace? You have been chasing me for so long, always a shadow I couldn’t see clearly.”

“You will get what you deserve.”

“Such a noble emotion, but you must know, Your Grace, that for every single thing one desires, he must lose another. That is the law of nature. And I am wondering, what are you willing to lose to get to me?”

Brandon’s hands clenched, and his whole body vibrated with rage and adrenaline.

“I am thinking,” Johnny said with a smile as the battle raged around them. “What do you have of value? You are a man who has everything. What would devastate you most to lose?”

Brandon stared at Johnny, his mind racing. Without a second thought, there was one thing that crossed his mind. The one thing that would answer Johnny’s question. It wasn’t a word that came, but images, one after the other. Marigold laughing, the way she wiped her dirty hands on her apron. The way she defied him in his own study. The way she rubbed Duck’s belly. The way she murmured his name in his arms.

Of all the things he had, title, status, and wealth, there was only one thing that gave him a reason to live. Marigold. The realization hit him harder than any blow this man could ever inflict upon him. It was not possessiveness. It was not protectiveness. It wasn’t even a debt repaid or a deal struck. There was something more, something profound.

Brandon realized, in the midst of battle, bleeding, hurt, and vibrating with rage, that perhaps even that word “love” didn’t even begin to describe how deeply he felt for her. But Marigold was safe, waiting for him in Verdant House, probably ready to scold him when he came back with open wounds.

“There, Your Grace. Now you got your answer?” Johnny snarled. “So let me ask you again, more clearly now. Are you willing to lose her to get to me?”

Brandon froze. The scream. His mind didn’t want to believe it, but he knew it in his soul. This was not just any woman Johnny had in the back. It was Marigold. He looked upon his nemesis as he leered.

“I believe you’re too late, Your Grace.”

Brandon did not think. He did not plan. He did not talk, and he did not question. He simply moved. He turned his back on Johnny, not even caring what would happen to this man, and ran.

Flames were now blocking the entrance to the back room. The heat was unbearable, the smoke was thick. He stood before the door and didn’t even hesitate. He jumped through the flames. He could hear someone behind him screaming, but he did not allow a second thought.

He could feel his lungs burning, and his eyes were stinging and filled with tears. At first, he could not see clearly. Then he looked around and saw barrels and crates, but they were on fire, burning, the flames reaching the ceiling.

He pulled up the clothes he had around his neck to cover his mouth. The smoke was so thick he could barely see shadows in the rest of the room. All he could hear was the crackling noises of everything burning around him. But then he heard it, soft and low as it was, a cough.

He moved as fast as he could to where he heard that noise that still gave him hope. And then, in the center of it all, he saw her. Marigold. She was tied to a chair. She was coughing, and her eyes were watering, and she was struggling with her restraints, trying to free herself. Not screaming, not panicking, fighting.

The flames were at her feet. Her gown was beginning to smolder. Brandon felt the rush of panic take over him, but he used that force to catapult him forward.

“Marigold! I’m here!”

She looked up. Through the smoke and the tears, she saw him. At first, she could not believe her own eyes. Perhaps she didn’t even recognize him since he had his face covered. Brandon thought that maybe she mistook him for one of Johnny’s goons. But then her eyes widened. She breathed as if in relief.

“Brandon.”

He ran towards her. He did not feel the heat. The smoke did not bother him. He felt no fear. There was only one thing in his mind, and that was getting to Marigold in time. He was not going to lose her. He could not lose her. He loved her.

CHAPTER 29

CHARRED LIPS

When the last man rushing out of the backroom dropped a burning lamp on purpose closer to some of the barrels, Marigold realized that she was in much more danger than she had considered at first.

“Help me,” she begged Johnny’s men, but none turned to her.

Marigold realized that she had to save herself, and that was why she strained against the ropes with all the power she had. But her restraints would not give. Instead, the rough fibers dug into her skin, turning her wrists raw and burning. But there was a greater threat of her actually being burned alive, so she did not stop trying.