As Sarah watched, he gave one last thrust and lay still for a few seconds before rolling off the bed and refastening his trousers. “Grab your clothes, ladies,” he said to the two girls who showed no signs of stopping. “This isn’t going to find us anyone.”
“Do you want to find someone else?” The girl’s voice sounded definitely pouty. “Aren’t we enough for you?”
“Come on. Let’s go.” The tone of his voice brooked no argument.
Sarah quickly hid her face behind the curtains again as the two girls got off the bed, picked their clothes up off the floor and left.
Her solitude did not last long. As soon as the threesome left, another couple entered.
“This is her room.” The voice belonged to Suzanna, a thin-faced French girl with a mean temper and a streak of envy a mile wide.
Sarah stopped breathing again. She dared not hope that the other person in the room was Tom. All the girls knew how much she liked him, and Suzanna would rather sleep on a bed of nails than do a good turn for one of her fellows.
There was a rustle and a clink. “Thank you, my dear.”
Sarah gave a start. That was Sir Richard’s voice, thick and slightly slurred with drink. Sir Richard must have bribed Suzanna to show him which was her room.
Bother Suzanna and her petty greed. The girl would betray her own mother for half a crown.
She really did not want to be caught behind the curtain with Sir Richard. He would be sure to try to maul and kiss her, and she would have to spend her evening fending off his fat fingers and trying to evade his scratchy red whiskers.
Unfortunately he was not as easily fooled as the threesome. He started to look around for her in earnest, opening her wardrobe, getting down on to his knees and looking under her bed.
“Come on, girl, make yourself useful,” he barked at Suzanna, when he did not immediately find anything.
Suzanna’s slippered feet scuffled into action. Sarah’s heart forgot to beat as Suzanna walked directly over to the drapes and pulled them open. “Here she is.” Her eyes glittered with malice.
Sir Richard’s piggy eyes gleamed with excitement as he waddled drunkenly over to her. “My dear girl, I am so pleased to be the first one to find you.” He shuffled inside the curtain, pressing her close up against the wall with his heavy body. “I have waited for this moment for a long time.”
She tried to wriggle away from him, but with his bulk on one side of her and Suzanna on the other, there was nowhere for her to go. She shuffled along the wall away from them, only to find herself at last penned in a corner, like a rat in a trap.
Sir Richard wasted no time in pleasantries. With a gleam of drunken lust in his eyes, he reached up and grabbed at her breasts with his greasy hands. “Very nice,” he mumbled, breathing brandy fumes into her face. “Very nice.”
She tried to shake him off. “Sir Richard, please. You are drunk.”
He gave a snorting laugh and tugged hard on her bodice. “Drunk with love, my dear. I’ve been watching you for weeks now, wasting yourself on that rascally young Grub Street guttersnipe, stripping in front of him and letting him stare at your breasts and touch and kiss you.”
The accusatory tone of his voice and the pressure he was exerting on her bodice started to make Sarah seriously uneasy. “Mr. Wilde paid Mrs. Erskine for my company,” she said, tugging her shift away from him. “I could not refuse him.”
He snorted again, in disgust this time. “He has no manners and no breeding and I could buy and sell him fifty times over. You are wasting yourself on him, my dear. You deserve a real gentleman to look after you.”
All of a sudden her bodice gave way with a loud rip and Sir Richard staggered backward with surprise, a piece of her linen shift dangling from his fist.
Sarah tried to hold the remnants of her bodice together over her naked breasts with both hands. “Sir Richard, that is not the work of a gentleman.” Her voice was shaking.
He was advancing toward her, his evil intentions clearly written on his face. “It doesn’t matter, my dear,” he said, as he deliberately ripped the remnants of her bodice open, letting her breasts spill freely out. “I can buy you twenty more.”
His aggression scared her. If he tried to hurt her for real, would anybody hear her if she called for help? Or would they think her cries were all just part of the game? “I don’t want twenty more chemises. This is not a game anymore, Sir Richard. I want you to leave my room at once.”
His hands were all over her breasts, pinching her skin cruelly with his vicious fingers. “Now then, my dear, don’t be so touchy. I just want to play an innocent little game with you. The game that men and women have always played together.”
“Please, let me go.” She was struggling with all her might, but she could not get free of his hands.
He leaned against her, pressing her body into the wall with his bulk so she could not move, and then reached down to fumble with his trousers. “I’m willing to forgive you for playing around with that Grub Street hack and for not coming to me as pure and innocent as you were a month ago. I lay the blame firmly on his shoulders. He stole you from me, and forced me to bide my time until his money ran out. But you will come to me now and let me taste your sweet naked body.”
His cock sprung free from his trousers and nudged up firmly against her mound, making her feel sick to her stomach. His intentions were crystal-clear. He would not be content with mauling her breasts—he was going to rape her.
She gave Suzanna a look of entreaty. “Will you stand by and let him misuse me so?”
Suzanna shrugged carelessly, her face mean and pinched. “You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, refusing to spread your legs for the gentlemen. Sir Richard is going to show you that you’re no better than the rest of us whores.”
Sir Richard was stroking his cock furiously with one hand as he groped under her petticoats with the other. “I’ll show you your place, I will,” he grunted. “I’ll use you as I use my wife, and the slut of a governess she employs, and the house maids, and every other whoring little bitch who flaunts herself in front of me. I’ll fuck every last one of you whenever I please. I’ll fuck you all until you scream and beg me to stop, and then I’ll fuck you some more.”
Suzanna smiled a thin-lipped smile, feeding on Sarah’s terror. “And I shall enjoy watching you get your comeuppance as he ruts on you.”
“Get down on your knees, girl, and suck my cock.”
Sarah whimpered and shook her head. Her only thought was how to escape from this nightmare.
Sir Richard gave her a vicious blow with the back of his hand. “That will teach you to disobey me. On your knees.”
Whimpering from shock and from the pain of the blow, Sarah sank to her knees.
Sir Richard poked his cock roughly into her unwilling mouth until she gagged on it.
“Damn you, girl, you’re enough to ruin any man’s ardor,” he grumbled. “Come on, you,” he said, gesturing at Suzanna. “Come and show the little whore how it’s done properly.”
Suzanna dropped willingly to her knees and took his cock deep in her mouth, sucking on it with gusto. “You taste good,” she purred when she finally came up for air, throwing a malicious glance at Sarah.
He took his cock out of Suzanna’s mouth and thrust it back at Sarah. “Your turn now, girl.”
Sarah gagged uncontrollably again as his cock touched her lips and turned her head away. Having his hairy member thrusting down her throat was too disgusting to bear. The risk of another beating was nothing in comparison.
He gave up with a noise of disgust and pulled her to her feet. “Damn you for a sullen whore. I will have to teach you better manners.”
“She needs correcting,” Suzanna suggested, still kneeling at his feet. “A good whipping would soon sort her out.”
He dragged Sarah over to the bed and pushed her down on her back. “I will whip her later.” With one hand he held her down while with the other he tore away her petticoats.
She would not let him rape her. She would not. Clawing and biting at him with all her might, she tried to wriggle away from his grasp.
Sir Richard was panting with the effort of holding her. “Come hold the little whore down,” he growled at Suzanna.
“Yes, Sir Richard,” Suzanna said meekly. She sat at the head of the bed and grabbed Sarah’s flailing arms, pinning them to the bed.
Her grip was strong for such a thin, fragile-looking woman. Try as she might, Sarah could not break free.
Sir Richard forced her legs apart with his fat fingers. His thick cock was grasped so tightly in his hand that the purple head bulged threateningly.
Despite her last desperate struggles, she could not get free. Sir Richard would rape her. There would be no escape.
Her stomach heaved and the room began to spin around her. As if from far away, she heard herself scream—an animal scream of pure terror.
6
Tom watched avidly as Sarah scurried out of the room with a couple of the other girls. Damn Mrs. Erskine for choosing this game on the last night he could claim Sarah’s company.
There had not even been time to cheat and ask Sarah where she would hide so he could be sure of finding her first—she had been hustled away from his side too quickly for that.
He searched desperately around the room for a friendly face, finally spying Sarah’s friend in a corner. He strode over to her. “Polly, where will she hide?”
Polly gave a little smile and shrugged helplessly as her companion glowered in an unfriendly way at Tom. “All our rooms are at the top of the stairs. She will be in one of them, I’m sure—probably in her own.”
“How will I know which room is hers?”
“It’s blue. Blue curtains and bedcoverings. You can’t mistake it.”
Tom gave her a nod of thanks and strode over to the door, positioning himself to be one of the first up the stairs.
Mrs. Erskine found him there and drew him aside with a hand on his sleeve just as the call went up to start the hunt.
“What do you want?” he barked at her, itching to be on his way toward his Sarah.
“Come, Mr. Wilde, there is no need to be so hasty,” she admonished him. “The night is still young.”
“I only have Sarah to myself for one more night,” he growled at her. “You’re robbing me even of that.”
“That is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “Come, take a seat.”
“Can it not wait?”
“No, I’m afraid not.” She seated herself on one of the sofas and waited politely until, with another growl, he sat down next to her.
“You see,” she said, with a delicate dab at her nose with a lace-edged handkerchief, “I have another offer for the girl. He wants her from midnight tonight. Which is,” she consulted her watch, “approximately twenty minutes from now. Unless,” and she gave a gentle cough, “you would be interested in extending your payment for another month. I always like to give the incumbent the right to edge out their competition and extend their terms if they please. It’s good for business.”
“Another month?” He shook his head. Paying for another month would make a serious inroad into his ready money. He was not so besotted with the wench as to beggar himself on her account. “Out of the question.”
Mrs. Erskine gave a gentle sigh. “Then I am afraid I will have to accept the other gentleman’s offer.” She rose from the sofa and dismissed him with a wave of one heavily bejeweled hand. “You have fifteen minutes left on the clock. May I suggest you make the most of them?”
Fifteen goddamn minutes. Tom scowled heavily as he raced for the stairs. So much for his plans to spirit Sarah away and keep her to himself for the entire evening. If he didn’t find her soon, he would not even have the time to bid her farewell.
Fifteen minutes to find her before she belonged to another man—to Sir Richard Etheridge, he would wager. He could not look on as she was claimed by the disgusting Sir Richard. Bah—he was more like a squat, fat toad than a man.
He took the stairs two at a time, stopping briefly at the top of the stairs to glance around the sitting room.
The sound of giggling came from behind the piano in the far corner.
He strode over and peered behind it.
A number of seminaked bodies were entwined in the small space between the piano and the wall. One of the girls spotted him looking. “Come, you have found us,” she cried, holding out her arms to him. “You have to join us.”
Sarah was not among them. Ignoring the girl’s outstretched arms, he turned away and strode off toward the hall corridor.
One by one he opened the doors to the bedrooms and looked inside. He found a green room, a yellow room, and any number of pink rooms, but no blue room. Most of the rooms were occupied, but he ignored all invitations to join in the games that were going on. His time was running out.
He had just opened the door on yet another orgiastic scene when a terrified scream rang out from the end of the hall corridor.
Sarah’s voice—he would know it anywhere.
Taking off at a run, he followed the sound of the screaming, until he burst in on a scene that made him sick to his stomach.
Sarah lay spread-eagled on her bed, screaming wildly. Her arms were pinned down by a monster in petticoats, while Sir Richard, damn every bone in his filthy body, cock in hand, prepared to thrust into her sweet body.
Tom grabbed the first thing that came to hand, an iron candlestick holder from the dressing table, and cracked Sir Richard viciously over the pate.
Sir Richard looked up, astonished, for a moment, then his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the floor. The monster in petticoats took one horrified look at Sir Richard, lying senseless on the floor, and ran for her life.
Sarah was weeping now, curled up on her bed with her face buried in the blankets as if she wanted to hide away from the world.
He took her gently into his arms. “Sarah, my love, don’t cry.” There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say, that would take away the last few minutes. All he could offer her was his sympathy and his understanding, and the certain knowledge that she was safe in his embrace.
Her weeping eventually subsided into hiccuping sobs. “He hit me. He was going to rape me.”
He cradled her in his arms, stroking her hair as if she were a small child. “It’s over, sweetheart. He won’t hurt you again. I won’t let him touch you ever again.”
Sir Richard gave a groan and stirred on the floor. Clearly he had not hit the bastard hard enough. It was a shame he ever had to wake up.
She shuddered at the noise. “Take me away from here. Away from him.”
He picked her up and carried her down the hallway to a deserted sitting room at the very end where she could recover her composure out of reach of Sir Richard.
Sarah clung to Tom as if he were her lifeline. His warmth and tenderness gave her strength and the feel of his arms around her took away her pain. If only she could hold on to him forever. “Make love to me, Tom.”
His mouth fell open and he looked as if she had just hit him over the head with a plank of wood. “What did you say?”
“Make love to me,” she repeated, hiding her face in his shirtfront.
“Why? Why now?”
“Sir Richard frightened me.” An uncontrollable shudder racked her body as she spoke, but she did not weep. The time for tears was past. “I want to remove all remembrance of his touch from my body. I want to take away those memories of lying helpless under him, and replace them with memories that I can treasure. Please, Tom, make love to me.”
“Here?”
“Here, anywhere. What does it matter?” She did not care where—she needed him too badly.
“We cannot stay here. Sir Richard will be furious. He might well be angry enough to have the law on you and have you arrested for assaulting a Member of Parliament.”
“But I did nothing to him,” she protested, knowing all the
while that her innocence would make no difference. The law was not made for poor people. She had dared to reject a wealthy man, a Member of Parliament, and he would have his revenge on her one way or another.
“Sir Richard cannot touch me—he knows he cannot touch me—but you? You are defenseless, a prostitute for all anyone knows, an easy target for his vengeance.”
Her heart leaped with fear. The streets would swallow her up after all. “I have nowhere else to go.” There was no armor against the resignation of despair that gripped her soul. She’d always known it would come to this in the end.
“Either he will have you arrested or he will try to rape you again. And next time I will not be around to stop him.”
He was right—Mrs. Erskine’s house was no longer a refuge for her. Sir Richard would kill her. Or he would succeed in raping her next time, and she would kill herself and save him the bother. She shrugged hopelessly. Whichever way she looked at it, the result would be the same in the end.
“Where will you go?”
What did it matter? Her life was over before it had begun. “There is nowhere in this world for a woman like me to go.”
Tom looked down at the fragile burden in his arms. His landlady would kick up merry hell if he brought home a strange woman to his lodging house. “You will have to come home with me,” he found himself saying. Ah, damn his landlady—he’d never cared much for her anyway.
Sarah acquiesced with a weary shrug. All the fight had gone out of her. She looked like the empty shell of herself, drained of all emotion. “Just for tonight, then,” she agreed. “I’ll find somewhere else to go in the morning.”
No gentleman worth the name would throw a lady out on the streets. Particularly not the lady he was obsessed with, in love with.
Damn it, he might as well admit it—he was in love with her. Head over heels, topsy-turvy in love with Miss Sarah Chesham. Once he had her in his lodgings, in his bed and in his arms, he would not let her go again.
If it meant that she would stay with him and give him the right to protect her from scum like Sir Richard, he would even marry her.
Parlor Games Page 8