Lilac

by Louisa Trent

He stood. “With that said, I admire you for putting the needs of others before your own gain.”

  “Your opinion of me is based on a false assumption. I had much to gain by coming here.”

  He shook his head, unwilling to believe that she had behaved selfishly. If anything, she had only behaved immaturely. “You are a deeply principled young woman,” he argued, “who intended to convince me of the merits of your argument with the documents in your reticule.”

  “Originally, yes. Then I met you and I knew you would never listen to any arguments of that nature, at which point I decided to blackmail you.”

  “B-b-blackmail me!” he sputtered. “With documents?” He laughed at the absurdity of that. He had known about the documents through Owen. He had intended to fix the problems all along, as soon as he determined what those problems were. Why else would he have traveled to Pittsburgh but to see with his own eyes where the problems with operations lay?

  Of course, she knew nothing about that trip. And if he told her now, she would again accuse him of spying on her.

  He could see his renunciation of her foolish plan had left her crestfallen. For some reason that he could not explain, her woebegone expression left him with a hole in his belly.

  His softness made no sense. He was the injured party here. She was the one using him, who had intended to blackmail him, and yet he felt badly for calling her on it. She was just so young and naive and so sure she had right on her side that he had no heart to disillusion her. The world was not so black-and-white.

  He waved a hand. “Forgive me. I should not have laughed at you. I am at a loss here. What exactly do you want from me, Miss Ellis?”

  Her chin wobbled. “I came here to apprise you of the heartache your negligence has caused. Miners only want what is theirs by right, which is a living wage and humane housing conditions.”

  “And yet you never once opened that up to discussion.”

  “Because I knew at a glance you were not a gentleman but a dock tough. You would not have listened to reason. Now, perhaps, you will.”

  There was always a price. He had learned that at twenty, a lesson taught to him by the spoiled socialite he had wanted to wed. That woman had wanted only an acquaintance with his fleeting fame. She thought him scum, but she pinched her dainty lady’s nose against his stink of poverty to get what she wanted from him. She had fucked him over good. Just as this girl had tried to do.

  What did Tegan Ellis want, how did she intend to use him?

  “Go on, Miss Ellis.”

  She threw off the covers. Her hands went to the neckline of her nightgown, and she began working the small pearl buttons. “I have a question.”

  “A question?” he blustered, his gaze on a creamy bare shoulder revealed as one side of the loosened nightgown slipped down her arm.

  “Do you avail yourself of female playthings?”

  “I am a single man.”

  “That would mean yes, you do avail yourself of female playthings. Yet you did your utmost to refuse me two days since. I am insulted, sir.”

  He noted the high arch of her narrow bare feet. “Would you please get back under the covers before you catch cold? We can discuss all this later, after you rest.”

  “You said what we did not disappoint you. That I did not disappoint you. I would like to offer you more of the same. If you improve working conditions at Central Mines, I shall stay on here as your…sexual plaything.”

  Chapter Ten

  “You little fool!” he exploded. “You cannot mean what you say. You are ailing still and weak. Your recent run-in with a tree branch is the sole reason for proposing to become a man’s plaything.”

  “Not a man’s plaything. Your plaything. And the tree branch had nothing to with my proposal.”

  In a daring move that went beyond anything she had ever done before in her entire life, Tegan slipped from the bed and went to stand before a scowling Sean Griffith. Surprisingly, after resting in bed for two days, she felt only the tiniest bit woozy as she let the borrowed nightgown slip to the floor. Then again, the man, not her recent malaise, might have caused her light-headedness.

  “Alas, I have only myself to offer you. Only my sex,” she whispered, “to persuade you to do the right thing. Before, you see, I thought I had leverage. Ammunition for blackmail.”

  “What leverage? What ammunition?”

  “I assumed you were hosting an orgy, and I meant to tell all to the newspapers. When I found out there was to be no orgy, I thought to ruin your name with my ravishment.” She sighed and her shoulders slumped in dejection. “I thought to go to the local physician with the proof of my lost virginity—my bloodstained drawers and my missing maidenhead.”

  “Tell me you did not believe Dr. Morris would support a charge of rape against me? For Christ sakes, he and I belong to the same club. I hunt with the man! He would have tossed you out on your ear for speaking those allegations. Apart from that, I did not rape you. Our relations were consensual.”

  She shook her head. “I would not have charged you with rape. A girl in our neighborhood was the victim of a cruel rape, and so I know the difference. I never would have made such allegation for that would have been a lie. But you did take my virginity. That is ravishment.”

  “Which you precipitated, which you asked for! If anything, you seduced me.”

  “Who would believe a country bumpkin like myself capable of seducing a man of your obvious experience and sophistication?”

  “You silly, silly girl. All you would have succeeded in doing with that charge was ruining your own reputation.”

  “That was my intention, the price I intended to pay to see justice done.”

  “But you never made the journey to the physician’s office because of the storm. And then I burned your so-called evidence against me—the blood-speckled drawers. To add further insult, I cared for you myself, not even allowing the housekeeper in to see you, leaving you no proof of your ruination, whatsoever.”

  “I see you have it all figured out, sir.”

  “For your information, I called the physician to attend you. Dr. Morris took you for the daughter of one of my friends because that is what I told him. He never even blinked to see you here in a bedroom next door to mine.” He rotated his shoulders. “Clearly, you have no idea what you are about here. Or what it is you are saying. Or how things work when one has wealth.”

  “I know this much—wealthy men routinely take playthings,” she said adamantly.

  “You do not understand what you are committing yourself to. Or the sort of life you will be forced to lead after you leave here.”

  He brought up some irksome points. If he agreed to her proposition, where would that leave her after he tired of her?

  She had not thought that far ahead.

  Emotion was leading her, she supposed, a want to make up to her father for his years of sacrifice for her.

  And so what if her debt to the parent who raised her was behind this scheme? What if she were acting with her emotions, not her brain? There were worse things. She could be like this man—completely heartless.

  Sean Griffith raked his hands through his hair. “Why would you even consider such an arrangement when you, yourself, admitted the act disappointed you?”

  He tossed her own words back in her face. Obviously, she had hit a nerve with him there. She had dented his conceit. But perhaps something else motivated him too. Perhaps he cared enough to want to make her happy.

  She raised her arms above her head, taking her hair with them. “Not the act. That did not disappoint me. I was referring to another disappointment.”

  “The fact that I had burned your drawers, no doubt. That must have thwarted your blackmailing plans. But tell me this—”

  “What can I possibly tell you? Obviously, you have me all summed up.”

  Intent on his own prowess, he ignored her sarcasm. “If not disappointed, can you say I pleased you?”

  “You know you did not. Most likely, you could
not have pleased me regardless of your skill.”

  He backed up. “How do you know I have any skill? I might be the world’s worst lover. You have nothing to compare me to.”

  Calling up all her courage, she would not allow him to escape her, as he had not allowed her to escape him.

  She took a step toward him. “Could we please stop this sparring? I would like to stay on here. There is nothing and no one for me in Pittsburgh anymore.” She would not mention her home, the little cottage she was about to lose because the company he owned was evicting her. She could easily scream and shout at him for the heartless policy that would leave her homeless.

  But not aloud.

  To herself, she would call him every bad name she could think of, not all that many considering her sheltered life, but those epithets that she knew, she would keep to herself.

  Honey caught more flies than vinegar.

  “Sir… I would like to learn how to please you. I would like you to please me. I am open to this.”

  “So you say, but becoming a man’s plaything is far afield from the kind of life you have led in mining reform.”

  She shrugged. “Your promissory note agreeing to enact changes will be the end of reform work for me.”

  “You have this all worked out, I see.”

  “Not everything. But I shan’t become tedious, I assure you, with extended militancy. The only uprising I shall strive to achieve hereafter is in you.” She traced the outline of his erection with a finger. He was remarkably hard. And long. And thick. His penis pulsated beneath the fabric of his trousers.

  He caught her hand in his. “Draw up the papers.”

  Her head dipped. “Thank you, sir. And in return, I shall endeavor to do everything you wish. I am not averse to anything. However, as you know, I lack experience in the area of…of…intercourse. You will have to show me what you like. Also, I shall sign something, a promissory note, to drop all further attempts to discredit you.”

  “That will not be necessary—”

  “It is necessary. I want everything official.”

  She walked to the wall and gestured to the speaking tube next to the call box. “Call down to have someone sent up here with pen and paper and then stay to witness my affidavit.”

  “Not on your life. You are naked. And unwell. Please return to the bed at once, Miss Ellis, before you sicken.” He jerked a bow.

  She had been about to knee a curtsy, ridiculous in the extreme when considering her altered circumstances. “Tegan to you from now on. No reason to stand on formality now that I have decided to take on the role of your plaything. After all, I can no longer claim a virgin’s innocence, nor plead a chaste woman’s dignity. And demanding respect went by the boards when I offered myself to you.”

  “I am glad you understand at least that much.”

  She crossed her arms over her bosom. “Tell me when I begin.”

  “Place you hands down by your sides.”

  This sounded promising. She dropped her arms.

  He immediately captured a bosom, his thumb stroking across the crest.

  Her nipple hardened and elongated under his caress. She licked her lips, her mouth gone suddenly dry. “Oh, dear.”

  “You are a child,” he said gruffly and cupped her breast. “No more than a little girl. When did you turn eighteen?”

  “Last week.”

  “And your menses…when did they begin?”

  “At seventeen.”

  “Has any doctor checked you out down below?”

  “No!” she cried, horrified.

  His hand lifted off her nipple. “Get on the bed.”

  Dazed, knowing she had bit off more than she could chew, she walked back to the bed and lay down on her back atop the coverlet.

  Carrying her nightgown, he followed after. “Open your legs, little girl.”

  “Oh, please, sir. I am fine down below.”

  “Obey me. Show yourself to me at once.”

  Breathing hard, her naked chest rising and falling, she pried her tight knees apart.

  “More,” he said. “Legs all the way open, as far as they can go. In fact…”

  He wedged a pillow under her hips, and her bottom lifted high.

  “There. Much better,” he said in approval. “Now hold on to your knees.”

  Knowing she was blushing scarlet, she did as he told her to do.

  “I should have done this while you slept. Only guarding your missish dignity prevented me from doing so. I bathed you, changed you, but refused to look. Since you have given yourself over into my care, I no longer need consider your modesty.” He fingered her.

  Oh

  Oh God. He was touching her between the legs. Openly touching her between the legs. Her private parts. “Narrow,” he pronounced. “I shall need to proceed with care. But the membrane was sliced clean through. No reminders of your virginity linger.” He touched her back opening. “This is sweet. And also mine. Do you understand?”

  “No.”

  “I shall want to sodomize you. Often.” He circled the opening. “I like it.”

  “Will I?” She looked up at him.

  “Some women do. Not that you are a woman. You are still only a little girl. But you will allow it regardless. You will give it to me as often as I demand it.”

  “You may have what you like, sir. Everything that you like.”

  “On the plus side, anal intercourse will remove the risk of conception.”

  She nodded. “When do we begin?”

  “On the morrow.” He picked up her gown, dropped the loosened neckline over her head, and yanked her arms through the sleeves. He patted the hem in place around her ankles. “Now, back under the covers with you. A servant will bring you a fountain pen and paper. Write all your demands there.”

  Once she had snuggled under the quilt, he stormed from the room, nearly splintering the wooden door in his wake. Far from frightened by his rude manner and obvious vexation, she felt triumphant.

  She had won.

  Despite his tough ruffian origins, Sean Griffith was a man of his word. If he said he would improve working conditions at Central Mines in exchange for the use of her body, so he would. Perhaps he would not do everything that needed doing, but whatever he did, it was a start. And she would simply wear him down to get the rest.

  Not with militancy. With sweetness.

  By the time she finished with him, the families at Central Mine would have what their hard labors merited.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning, Sean was still steamed.

  So Tegan Ellis thought she would blackmail him for supposedly ravishing her, did she?

  She would rue the day she concocted that treacherous scheme. He would not let her get away with almost ruining everything he had worked so hard to achieve. Not bad enough to try to dishonor his business practices, she sought to destroy his good name.

  That misstep in judgment would cost her.

  She called him a dock tough?

  So he was. And the first lesson of Hell’s Kitchen was to get even.

  He could forgive her plan to take her father’s documents to the newspapers, but not for planning to blackmail him over her lost virginity. That was lower than low. Nothing remained of his former good opinion of her.

  She proposed to become his plaything?

  And so she would. When he got through with her, she would know the true meaning of ravishment.

  His softness toward her was finished.

  And to think he had been about to do the honorable thing by asking for her hand in marriage. To think he had placed her on a pedestal. To think he thought her a woman of integrity. That she had ethics. He had admired that quality in her most of all.

  Some ethics. How deluded could one man get?

  The woman was a common blackmailer! And he was past disillusioned into enraged. At her; at himself too. He should have known better. How many times would he be taken in by a woman he thought to wed?

  Tegan Elli
s might have been an innocent sexually, but that was all. And though her face was comely, her heart was that of a conniving bitch. He would make her pay one hundred times over for trying to destroy him.

  After him, she would walk the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, servicing the very dock toughs she held in such disdain. That is the reason why she had refused to discuss mining reform with him—because he was a former dock tough, was it not?

  Those thugs would comprise her clientele. If she were fortunate. Otherwise, gangs would share her, three or four members at a time.

  He would never be anyone’s patsy again. That was a promise he had made himself years before, and he intended to keep it.

  Out in the front hall, Sean stopped the housekeeper as she bustled past, a tray in hand. “Mrs. Birch, please tell my guest I am waiting for her outside in my carriage. Have her come down at once to the portico.”

  “Yes, sir,” the servant replied and bustled about her duties.

  When his new “plaything” arrived, wearing the same wretched black coat as that first day, he refused to alight and help her enter the vehicle. Instead, the driver gave her a hand up, placing her carefully, as if she might break, onto the seat across from him.

  “Thank you, Tim,” his new plaything said prettily. “Give my best to your mum. I wish her a speedy recovery from her sniffles.”

  “Kind of you, Miss. I shall certainly tell her to try that chicken soup recipe. Celery, you said?”

  “Yes, two good thick green stalks and plenty of black pepper. And see that you do tell her to get well soon. And with the soup, she should be as right as rain within a week. I made a big stockpot for my dear father when he was under the weather, and he swore by it.” Her forehead puckered. “Or did he swear at it? Oh,well. No matter.”

  Fuming to himself, Sean watched his new plaything look after the driver. A long, long, stare. Only after Tim whistled to the horses did she turn her attentions to him.

  “Good day, sir. Pleasant weather this late afternoon, is it not?”

  She acted like nothing untoward had happened between them. As if yesterday she had not only threatened his livelihood but his reputation. As the day before, she had not sold herself to him as a love slave.