Page 53 of The Briar Bargain (The Rom Com Collection #3)
The smoke was thickening at an alarming rate now and beginning to descend from the ceiling.
It began to irritate her throat in earnest, causing her to cough, and her eyes were starting to stream.
She pulled out her handkerchief and pressed it to her nose and mouth, grateful for the small protection the fine linen offered, though it could do little against the fumes filling the room.
This was no longer merely an inconvenience or a punishment to be endured with resignation. Miss Bingley's scheme had taken a potentially deadly turn. Elizabeth did not believe even Miss Bingley would have done this on purpose, but it would not matter, in the end.
Elizabeth forced herself to remain calm and assess her situation.
The room had two potential means of exit: the locked door through which she had entered, and the windows that faced the exterior of the house.
She had already determined that the door was completely immovable, so the windows represented her only hope of either escape or summoning help from someone on the grounds below.
She turned to examine the back wall more carefully.
The windows were tall and narrow, set rather high.
Elizabeth grabbed a small table that sat behind the settee and shoved it against the wall beneath one of the windows.
The piece of furniture was heavier than it appeared, and her exertions made her breathe more heavily.
She coughed and squeezed her eyes shut against the stinging of the smoke.
She positioned a chair next to the table, testing its stability before quickly climbing up.
The makeshift platform tipped slightly to one side under her weight but held firm.
From this elevated position, she could see brass latches that appeared to have suffered from years of exposure to the damp air that plagued old houses.
She reached up to the window latch. The metal was rough with rust, the corrosion making it difficult to grasp properly.
She applied steady pressure to the mechanism, willing it to turn. It held firm, refusing to budge.
She pulled the end of her sleeve over her hand for a better grip, then tried again with greater force.
Her eyes were smarting so badly that she could hardly see what she was doing, and her chest ached with each tiny breath.
The handkerchief could only do so much, and the volume of smoke was overwhelming her defences.
"Help!" she tried to cry, but her voice came out as little more than a rasp. She coughed violently, the spasms shaking her entire body and making her grip on the window latch slip.
Determined not to give in to panic, Elizabeth moved to the second window. With growing desperation, she managed to work the corroded mechanism loose. The casement swung open with a screech of protest .
The relief was immediate and overwhelming.
Elizabeth pulled herself up and through the narrow opening, draping herself over the stone sill so that her head and shoulders were outside in the clean night air.
She took large, gulping breaths, feeling her burning lungs expand.
The contrast between the smoky interior and the crisp evening air was so stark it left her almost giddy.
From this precarious vantage point, she could see more of the grounds below, though the drop was significant, perhaps twenty-five feet to the gravelled drive beneath. The smoke behind her grew more insistent, rolling over her on its way up into the night sky.
The burning in her lungs was making it increasingly difficult to maintain her position and her eyes streamed constantly. She found herself coughing more frequently, which only made breathing more challenging and sapped her strength.
Looking down, she could see the roof of the bow window below.
It was close to half the distance to the ground, and while she could see that the drop was certainly too far to attempt without fear of injury, there was a narrow stone ledge that ran the length of the house about four feet beneath her.
Even if she could somehow manage to climb out onto it, however, she would still be trapped, with no way to reach the ground safely.
But remaining here was untenable. The open window was drawing some of the smoke out of the room, but it was also creating a draught that pulled the worst of it directly over her. She was caught between the smoke behind her and the dangerous drop below.
"Please!" she cried into the darkness, putting every ounce of strength into her voice. "I need help!"
The words seemed to dissolve into the night air.
Elizabeth's grip on the window frame was growing weaker, her arms trembling with the effort of supporting her weight.
She looked down again at the flat roof covering the bow window directly below.
It appeared solid enough, though she could not judge its condition with her eyes streaming as they were.
Elizabeth studied the stonework between her window and the roof below, searching for any handhold, any way to make the descent less perilous. The question was not whether she should attempt it, but whether she could summon the courage to try before her strength failed her entirely.