To Defend A Duke

Chapter 19

Through the smoke and the thick stench of burning the three manage to stumble their way through the house and out into the street. Evelyn's hand is gripped tightly in Blackmoore's as he pushes her in front of him and staggers down the steps of the house. Already a large group of spectators have gathered a safe distance from the building as the fire spreads from the back, licking up walls and devouring house from the inside. 

Their carriage is still out the front, Blackmoore bundles her inside and shuts the door. He bangs frantically on the roof. 

"What about Mathew?" She gasps as they charge away from the house that now cannot be seen through the thick smoke and flame.

"He ran to his carriage," Blackmoore says, panting. "He is safe."

"Good." Evelyn takes short sharp breathes. She places a hand on her heart and sighs, leaning her head against the window. She suddenly becomes very aware that her other hand is still wrapped in the dukes. She freezes and looks down at their entwined hands, he feels the sudden tension in her body and also glances down. He quickly removes his and brushes the hair from his sweaty face. She links her hands together and looks away. Despite the carriage taking them far away from the burning house, the smell of smoke and burning lingers, and smothers the clean air coming in.
"I don't know what I am missing." She cries, frustrated. "Why would someone burn down that house?"

"I wasn't excepting that," Blackmoore says, leaning back. "But it hardly matters."

"But what if the next time the building burns down with you in it?" She says.

"I didn't realise you cared." He smirks, a dangerous charm seeping through.

"Don't flatter yourself, I can't have your death on my conscience." She snaps. He doesn't push her but keeps the self-satisfied smirk on his handsome face. 

"Someone has a serious vendetta against you, don't let it cost your life." Evelyn lectures. Blackmoore doesn't reply but his cheery expression dims and he bites at his thumbnail. The carriage moves down a main street of town. Evelyn contemplates the many questions that have been raised into her mind by the events of the last hour. 

"What did Mathew mean about "I've heard things about him that would make your skin crawl?"" She asks suddenly. The duke becomes as unmoving as a gargoyle, his face turns rigid and his eyes, black. 

"I don't know." He choaks out. 

"You don't need to trust me, you just need me to trust me to help you. And that includes no secrets." She says with an honest look, he studies her. 

"I'll tell you if you tell me why those men knew you back there." He barters. "The real reason." He says when she opens her mouth to make an excuse.

Evelyn considers his words. Games or trades like this are often the cause of the destruction of reputations and relationships. Reluctance tightens her chest but she nods. 

"I am not a good man." He says, "You could say I have enjoyed my youth to the fullest extent, drink, women, gambling."

"As does every young man with a vying soul and weaker constitution." She says, "You're not any different."

The duke grins. 

"I am worse than any your innocent soul has ever met and I will not corrupt you with tales of my treachery. Is it enough to tell you that I have never broken the law?" His eyes are a swirling mass of darkness and desire. 

"That's not an answer." She murmers. "You are evading." 

"I have good reason to, there are things I have done that I shudder to remember now, don't ask me to." He says quietly.