Page 42 of Immortal Rose

“And yet you’d have me believe I’m not your prisoner—” I sneezed before I could stop myself—then sneezed again and again, until my face ached and my eyes watered freely.

“What the devil is the matter with you?” Foxcourt demanded, glancing between me and the road.

“Charming,” I bit out. “It’s the linseed oil they used, if you must know—but back to my point, I am more than capable of taking care of myself—”

Foxcourt’s sharp inhalation was the only warning I received.

His hand shot up, pushing back the curricle’s hood, and then I was falling, my chest throbbing from the force of his shove.

I gasped as I landed flat on my back in the cold mud. The soft pink blossoms of the orchid trees shivered, sending a scattering of leftover rain and petals over me.

I bolted upright at the sound of a metallic groan, twisting around in time to see that Foxcourt had somehow managed to dislodge the horses from the curricle. They carried on down the street, dragging the steel shaft between them, as Foxcourt leapt to the ground. His hat gone, his face wild, he bolted for me.

“Get down!” he barked.

“Have you lost your—”

The words choked off as he threw his massive body over mine. My cheek pressed to his soft, superfine jacket, my hands instinctively wrapping around the narrow taper of his waist. The heat of him thawed even the cold grip of the mud soaking through my dress. In the silence, I couldn’t distinguish the sound of his racing heart from mine.

It was only when I felt his lips move against my loose curls that I realized the fall had dislodged my bonnet—a bonnet that was now as ruined as this dress I’d be responsible for replacing.

Gathering my wits back to me, I shoved at the wall of him, only for Foxcourt to curl around me tighter.

The explosion tore through the peace of the morning, shattering the body of the curricle and sending a tower of fire blazing toward the heavens.

My ears rang, and my nose filled with smoke as burning debris pelted the ground. Foxcourt grunted, his body straining as though he’d absorbed a blow. No more than a moment later, the smell of singed fabric stained the air.

And still, he didn’t move.

“You’re hurt,” I said, trying to push him off me to see. His grip on me turned desperate. “Foxcourt!”

He came back to himself all at once, drawing in a wheezing breath as he pushed himself upright. Cold air rushed between us, but it was the sight of him that chilled me.

“My—” His voice was hoarse. He took in the scene with unfocused eyes, blinking. “My apologies, I—”

I staggered up to my feet, gripping him by the shoulders to keep him from escaping. The back of his jacket was singed, torn, and ragged in several places. I brushed ash and wood splinters from it, unable to tell if the latter was from the curricle or the ruined remains of the nearby trees. There didn’t seem to be blood, at least—the man had the old god of luck on his side.

“I’m fine,” Foxcourt said gruffly, shrugging away from my touch. “Are you all right, Lockwood?”

I stared at him. “You’re the one who was nearly flayed and seared like a cut of beef.”

Behind us, the trunk of one of the orchid trees gave out beneath its own weight, cracking like a bone before it slammed to the ground. I winced, surveying the others tipping dangerously or uprooted entirely. Ash and scorched black blossoms swirled around us.

My heart was skipping too quickly for me to catch my breath, struggling to release that delayed terror. The claws of realization.

We would have died.

We should have died. Exactly as William Rosebourne had been sent to hell before us.

“Someone . . . in the stables,” Foxcourt was muttering to himself. “Today—no—”

“How did you know?” I demanded, gripping one of his lapels to force him to look at me. “At least tell me that, damn you! I deserve answers—who is trying to kill you? Unless . . .”

His unfocused eyes sharpened as they met mine. What little blood was left in my head promptly drained, and a terrible feeling of vertigo swept over me.

“Unless they’re not trying to kill you at all,” I forced myself to say.

Unless they were trying to kill me.