“I see fencing is not among your many gifts, Your Grace,” Thornmouth mocked him as he sneered.
Christopher’s nostrils flare as he lunged his saber forward toward Thornmouth.
“We shall see about that.”
He raised the saber, holding it more steadily and the two blades crashed into one another with force. The two men stood across from one another, glaring at each other.
For a moment, Christopher glanced at Rowena. The burly man stood and watched, his expression one of utter confusion. The footman, Hector, shook his head and rushed away, leaving Rowena on the stairs alone with Sabrine.
Thornmouth meanwhile, was driving Christopher backwards, toward the wall. Sweat had formed on both of their faces. Yet, Thornmouth looked as though he knew well what he was doing. He looked formidable indeed, while Christopher struggled to maintain his composure.
“Christopher, charge!” she called. She’d watched her father and brother spar many a time for sport. She had handled a saber every now and again as well.
Christopher looked up at her, their eyes locking for only a moment. It was a moment too long. Thornmouth took the opportunity to lunge forward, blades locking once more. He gave Christopher a shove and he tumbled over a marble step behind him, the saber flying out of his hand.
“No!” Rowena shouted and rushed down the stairs so fast her guard could not react in time. She was down on the first floor before he set into motion. Unfortunately for him, Sabrine had her wits together and stuck out one foot, causing the big man to tumble down the stairs. Groaning, and with a look of confusion, he remained on the floor where he landed.
The commotion was enough to divert Thornmouth’s attention. He glanced back to see what happened, giving Christopher the opportunity to regain his composure. Still on the floor, he tucked his legs in and then gave Thornmouth an almighty kick, sending him flying backwards onto the floor.
His saber flew out of his hand as well and Sabrine darted for it. She snatched it before the discombobulated Duke could gather it back up.
Leaving his saber where it was, Christopher lunged at Thornmouth. He planted a facer right on him, causing blood to spray from Thornmouth’s nose.
Enraged, he landed a facer of his own on Christopher’s face, sending him onto the marble floor.
In a split second, both men were on their feet once more. Thornmouth wrapped his hands around Christopher’s neck, squeezing as he struggled. Christopher kicked Thornmouth with all his might, forcing him to let go as he bent over, clutching his stomach.
“Christopher!” Rowena called out. He turned his head and raised his hands as she threw a fireplace poker at him. He used it with much more confidence than he’d had the saber. When Thornmouth launched at him next, his bare hands outstretched, Christopher whacked him in the side.
The Duke flew backward and slid into the adjacent dining room. He landed beneath an impressive velveted tapestry and grabbed onto it to help get up. Alas, the tapestry was not designed for such ventures and came crashing down upon him.
“Devil take it!” he cursed as he threw the tapestry off him and grabbed a poker of his own from the fireplace right beside him.
“You want to use a poker to spar? Very well,” Thornmouth groaned and clambered to his feet.
Of course, I would catapult him right into the vicinity of another fireplace poker.
Christopher rushed forward, followed by Rowena and the young maid. Thornmouth, meanwhile, was leaning against the fireplace, reading himself with the poker.
Christopher was about to lunge forward and resume their fight when a scream shattered the air around them.
“Fire!” Sabrine shouted, her voice full of panic. “Fire! The tapestry!”
Christopher turned and to his horror saw just what the girl was talking about. The edge of the tapestry which Thornmouth had thrown off himself a moment before had landed in the fireplace. It was already ablaze and its flames had already spread to the chair beside it. It was an inferno waiting to happen.
Chapter 34
Rowena darted forward and stopped outside the dining room.
“Damnation!” Thornmouth cursed as he yanked at the tapestry. He dragged it out of the fire which only made the situation much worse. Christopher stepped in, trying to stop the catastrophe from spreading.
“Stop! It will only spread it farther. Get water! Sand! Quickly,” he hollered.
“No!” Thornmouth yelled back. “You will not tell me what to do.” He continued to pull at the tapestry, succeeded at pulling it out. However, as he did so, a spark jumped onto the curtain to the right, igniting it at once.
“Christopher, there is nothing we can do,” she yelled over the increasing crackle of the fire. Smoke was beginning to fill the room. Christopher turned to her, nodded and rushed out of the dining room grabbing her room and pulling her behind him. He stopped at the steps.
“You, footman!” he called to the young man. “Who is in the house but us?”
