by Eliza Lloyd
“Sir, we are only asking what we paid for. We ain’t hurting Tiny’s business and if it’s all the same to you, we’d like to keep the arrangement. For the time being, that is.”
“Twenty pounds and you leave her here with me for as long as I want her.”
He kneaded her tits and she tried not to react. The wicked thoughts that came to her had nothing to do with this man. Instead, the twinkling eyes and white, toothy smile of the man in the dark, the rich bloke who’d convinced her to tread where she’d dared not, came to fore. Even between her legs, she felt the wet rush he’d so easily aroused in her.
“I’m worth more than twenty pounds.” Imo couldn’t stand another moment. She jerked away and swiftly yanked the panels of her shirt together.
Imo heard Danny swallow. A bead of sweat dribbled down her spine. McGreggor could throw her on the floor and rape her—their twenty pounds be damned.
“How many months will it take you to make that kind of money?” The Scot was shrewd and determined. Imo doubted he ever got the short end of the stick.
“Long enough. The answer is still no.”
“What about you, girl? I’d dress you pretty, take you nice places. You’d have three meals a day and a warm bed in the winter. I think twenty pounds is enough for a girl of questionable background, uneducated and unprotected. You would do well to accept my generous offer.”
Imo gritted her teeth prepared to tell him hell no if Danny didn’t. She prayed Danny wasn’t seriously thinking about the offer. If he was, she’d tear his eyes out.
“Molly and you could start off a family right quick with twenty pounds. With one less mouth to feed, the money would go farther. And why don’t you bring little Charlie over too. We’d find a place for him.”
Imo kept her head down until he mentioned Charlie. She lifted her gaze to the Scot then and glared her worst. “Charlie’s my brother. No one touches him.”
She didn’t think McGreggor would feel threatened by the cold-blooded fury in her gaze and voice, but it was all she had. She tilted her head toward Danny, trying to see what he was thinking. The door was directly behind her. Should she make a run for it? It was one thing to entertain men for the benefit of her family, quite another to be forced into servitude and degradation so someone else could profit. Worse if they thought Charlie was part of their negotiations.
“No, sir. Thank you for the offer,” Danny said in a way Imogene recognized. He was at his limit too.
McGreggor shrugged one shoulder. “Your footing will be double next year. Yours too, Tiny. Seems like business is better than I imagined. Keep me in mind, girl. You need a place, you come to me.”
At the dismissal, Danny’s strong hand gripped her arm and hauled her from the room. He nearly dragged her down the stairs and through the courtyard. When they reached the street, he let loose, fell back against the outer wall of the house and slid downward until he hit the ground. “Peter, Paul and Mary! I thought you were a goner, Imo.”
He lowered his head between his knees.
Imo paced with her hands in her pockets. In one fist, she clutched her ribbon. In the other, the remaining money from the night at Vauxhall. “You weren’t gonna sell me, were you?”
Danny glared at her. “You stupid girl. Do you think they were offering me money to sell you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“They were going to take you, Imo, whether I agreed or not. The Scot gave you forbearance for now. I don’t know why.”
“Then I can’t stay here. I don’t want to work for him. Or Tiny. I don’t want them to take me away from you.”
“Don’t panic now. We’ll be fine until the next footing is due. Until then, we keep our noses clean and stay out of Tiny’s way and don’t cross paths with any of the Scot’s boys neither.”
“What do we do in the meantime?”
“Make as much money as we can and hopefully something better will come along.”
Imo had her own thoughts. She’d never seen Danny scared, even though he was going to get twenty pounds out of the deal. She guessed it was his promise to Mam that made the difference. Fleetingly she wondered how many pounds it would have taken before Danny’s morals were put aside.
Danny pushed himself from the ground. “Let’s go home.”
“How’d he know about Molly?”
“The Scot makes money by knowing things. What he didn’t know was that I ain’t sweet on her.”
“Thank Gawd! I thought you’d gotten silly shagging her.”
They’d walked for nearly a mile, when Danny said, “Don’t be telling Frank about any of this.”
“Why not?”
“He probably would have sold you out. And don’t think I wasn’t tempted,” he said, his smile betraying his lack of seriousness.
Imo punched him on the arm. “What am I worth? Just so’s I know when you are about to feed me to the wolves.” And she was serious.
Chapter Seven
After a week of treading on eggshells and zigzagging through the streets on the way home each night, they started to feel safe again. Frank and Charlie complained about the extra precaution, but they blamed it on Tiny’s men rather than the Scot.
One thing had changed for Imo. She determinedly fought down those girlish daydreams about pretty dresses and white knights. Imo could still hear Mam reciting stories at bedtime, and they always had a happy ending. Mam hadn’t pictured this life for her children. ‘Course she hadn’t planned on dying so young either. There was no fairytale ending—only dark, lonely nights, empty dreams and living one day at a time.
She’d cleaned up her ribbon the best she could and when she wore the stained band now, it wasn’t with the same pride. No one at Hyde Park, where they were walking, would notice her ribbon anyhow.
Imo had to listen to another of Frank’s inquiries about Danny and the girl he was tupping. “Is Jessy better to shag than Molly?”
Charlie was next to Imo, watching a flock of birds dip and circle above them. She wasn’t going to listen to another conversation about the women they wanted to bed.
“Molly lays there like a landed fish, all cold and smelly. Jessy? She’s all soft and her hands are everywhere. Last time, I nearly cried like a girl it was so good.”
And then Danny described some impossible act that made Imogene wrinkle up her nose.
Frank whistled and then rubbed his cock self-consciously. Imo squeaked. “She did what? No one would do that. No one. I don’t believe you for a minute. You’re lying,” she said, trying to convince herself no one would do something so disgusting. “Where do you get those ideas?”
“I swear on a stack of sovereigns. If you really were a whore, Imo, you’d know these things.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t. And now I know why,” she muttered disbelievingly.
“Someday I’m going to have a woman for a whole day and shag her from sunrise to sunset and not pay a thing for it. You wait and see. And if she wants to do that to me, I’ll let her,” Frank said.
“It ain’t enough that a woman’ll let you crawl between her legs and let you dip that nasty wick in her cunny... Almighty! I don’t want to hear any more.”
“Imo, stop acting so damned prissy,” Danny said. “They need money and that’s why they do it.”
“That ain’t true. No woman would do that.”
“Are you blind and deaf? Men do it to men too. Haven’t you seen what goes on around us?”
“Only if you’re a Nancy.” Imo did know that. She glanced at Charlie to make sure he really wasn’t listening and then glared at her brothers. She cocked her head and said, “Some things don’t need to be mentioned in front of children.”
Danny and Frank had the grace to be embarrassed, since they both knew what had happened to Charlie.
Danny backhanded Frank across the chest as they entered the park. “Pay attention. There’s a lot of people here and I don’t want none of you disappearing in the crowd,” Danny ordered. He directed a meaningful glance at Imo.
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br /> She fell silent, absorbing all Danny said. In her mind, she couldn’t picture such a thing. He had to be lying. Had to be. She knew some men wanted all sorts of things, but a woman allowing that to happen? She cocked her head in consideration. Maybe women really didn’t allow it, men just took.
The park was full of people, much like Vauxhall, except they didn’t have to pay to get into this fair and the amusements were meant for the working classes.
They hadn’t been walking in the park more than thirty minutes when she saw him. He wore a tall hat, a tight fancy jacket and those tan breeches men of his class liked so well. His hands were clasped behind his back and he bent to listen to a pretty lady with a parasol. She wore a yellow dress that made her look like a flower in the green of the park. He laughed at whatever was being said.
Acute despair washed over her. She would never dress so fine or be so feminine and graceful and cultured. Stupid bitch, she probably didn’t know how to boil an egg. Imo bet no cock would ever pass those prim, painted lips. She pressed her hand against her mouth when a giggle nearly escaped.
When he flashed a glance in her direction, she ducked behind Danny. For several seconds she didn’t move, afraid to call attention to herself.
“Imo, get out of the way. You’re practically in my back pocket,” Danny said.
“When are we gonna eat? I’m starved,” Frank moaned.
“Me too.” Charlie stared up at Danny in that ridiculous angelic way he’d had since Danny had rescued him. “I hope when I get to heaven they have apple tarts,” he said wistfully.
“They’ll have so many that when you’re done eating, your cloud won’t be able to hold you and you’ll float back down to earth again,” Frank said, causing them all to laugh.
“I hope they have strawberry jam enough for every piece of food I eat,” added Danny.
“Well, I want Mam’s potato pancakes every day for the first thousand years,” Imo said. She meant it as a joke, but the three of them got quiet while Charlie listed another ten things he hoped to find in abundance when he arrived at the Pearly Gates.
“And maybe I’ll have my own cow so I can drink all the milk I want.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Danny finished as they sat down at a makeshift table, made from portable tree stumps and long, thick boards.
After they ate, the park seemed fuller and they pushed their way through the crowd to view the next enchantment. She gazed at the inflated balloons, wondering how they floated so high. She tried to keep her mind on the fair and not on the man she’d seen walk across the rock bridge with a group of his peers—all fancy popinjays she’d do well to avoid.
From the distance, he’d looked every inch a noble snob. Why had he singled her out at the pier that day when there had been real whores, willing to do anything he asked? Had he done it to bring a girl who already slogged in the lowest and meanest of circumstances to an even lower point? Why? She might have a nice face but she weren’t nowhere near as pretty as the woman he traveled with.
Did it really matter why?
She could almost forgive him, looking like a prince ready to rescue her.
But Danny was right. Best she not think of him at all. Funny that she could imagine him in the most grand of circumstances, but she still thought his motives were suspect in allowing her to service him in a back alley. Was sex so all-fired important to men? There was no reason he should have looked at her a second time. No reason at all. There was even less reason for her to be thinking of him in any way.
Stalls were packed with farm goods, and red-cheeked farm wives watched over their wares. Jugglers and trumpeters performed on a whim, enticing a few farthings from the onlookers. They stopped to watch a magic show. None of them could believe a rabbit actually disappeared but they couldn’t rightly figure out where the blasted thing had gone.
A raised platform held a troupe of acrobats, and the Farrells all squeezed in to watch. Danny hoisted Charlie to his shoulders, but Imo couldn’t see past the press of bodies and wide bonnets in front of her.
“I can’t see,” she complained.
“Go over by that tree,” Danny said. He gestured with a nod since his hands were firmly clamped over Charlie’s knees. “Don’t go far.”
Imo pushed through like a fish in water. She flitted through the tangle of arms and bodies and finally broke free. Looking back at the platform, she could see why there was more room here, only a side view of the show was available, but it was better than what she’d had. She shouldered up next to the tree.
The nimble tumblers were stacked three high and the top one jumped and turned before landing with a thud on the platform. Imo set her fingers to her lips and whistled in approval along with everyone else.
A presence at her back caused the hair on her neck to rise. She glanced right and left, looking for a way to escape. She eased away from the tree, ready to bolt. Or scream.
The heavy hand on her shoulder kept her in place. “Hallo, Imogene.”
Her body stiffened while inside she turned to jelly. She attempted to glance over her shoulder, but he stepped back.
“Pretend I’m not here. Just watch the show.”
“What do you want?” Imo’s body reacted with startling alertness. Her tits hardened like pebbles. She wanted to slip her hand in her breeches and rub away the scratchy annoyance that clawed between her legs. She wanted him.
He chuckled. “I want what any man would want who’s had your mouth wrapped around his cock.”
“I ain’t doing it for you.”
The clink of coins sounded, one at a time, as he dropped money into the depths of her good pocket. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Each coin made her breath come harder and her legs shakier.
“I shouldn’t. I can’t. My brothers are just over there. Take your money back.”
His hand slipped into the right pocket and dropped more coins. The tree was on her right and no one could see the surreptitious movement. Subtle, tense strokes of his finger along her leg and closer to her middle caused a sharp ache to build inside.
Withdrawing his hand from her pocket, he slipped it under her jacket and then dug his way under her shirt. The manly, firm hand stroked across her belly and then clasped her breast, much the same as the Scot, only with this rich nob, the touch always felt different. She gasped and her eyelids became too heavy to keep open. Her chest heaved as she fought the sudden rapid rise of her breathing.
“You have no idea how much I would pay to see these beautiful breasts in the light of day. Or by candlelight. Do you have a place, Imogene? Somewhere I could take you and lie down with you? Would you like that?”
“Are you going to pay me five hundred pounds?”
He laughed and drew nearer.
“No,” she said again. She could barely get the words out of her mouth.
“Your body tells a different story. Have you been with a man yet?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to.”
His hand searched for her other breast, his body moved close in behind her. The people around her paid her no mind as the show on stage captured their complete attention. Imo’s vision had blurred. She braced one hand against the tree, which seemed to give him more space to ply those devastating strokes on her skin.
Another small step closer and she felt the hard, thick length of his cock press into her buttocks.
“Would you laugh if I told you I’d tried to forget about you?”
She had too little air in her brain to think deeply about what he said. For her part, she hadn’t tried to forget him at all. She daydreamed about him.
“I came today looking for a street urchin dressed as a boy. I actually had to persuade my friends to come along. Can you believe that? I came to see if you might be here. I went back to the docks a couple of times looking for you.”
“Why?” she hissed. “There are thousands of whores that will get down on their knees for you or let you tumble them in some alley.”
“My brain doesn’t hav
e an answer. I only know my cock recognizes something it wants. You. In your breeches. Backed up against this tree and me shoving my cock so far into you, you’ll think you’ve died. That’s why. I’d like to fight my way through these bushes here and get you on your hands and knees and take you from behind. Or...”
He hesitated and she felt the whispered heat of his breath on her neck. “Or I’d like to spread you and with my mouth feast between your legs.”
She gasped. Something so shocking should have caused her to bolt, but she had to stay where she was in order to breathe. It didn’t help that Danny and Frank were constantly painting naughty pictures of real sex. “No. Stop it.” She squirmed, partly to get away, partly because her body yearned for the things he described, not because she wanted those things but because she wanted him to do those things.
His hand withdrew from inside her shirt. The scorching heat went out like a candle flame. She heard him grunt and the familiar sound of material scraping against material. The opening of his trouser fall.
“Give me your hand, Imo.”
“No, not out in the open like this.”
“Sorry, there’s no place to go and frankly, the way I’m feeling, I’d go up on that stage and perform for everyone if you agreed.”
She believed him. He’d never let a slight inconvenience like a crowd get in the way of his pleasure. Hadn’t he allowed her to service him on the waterfront with dozens of people strolling by, all guessing what was happening in the alley?
“Your hand,” he demanded softly.
How could she do this again? Every instinct said to tell him no and to mean her words, but she obeyed the sound of his voice like a dog to its master. Was it because she lacked an education that she couldn’t make her body obey her mind? Was it because she knew he was so much superior to her in status and wealth?