The Frenchman's Woman

by Lee Taylor

  “This is what I am talking about, Wyatt,” he said. Bai rubbed his hands over her back, then manipulated her shoulders and arms.

  When Elena winced, burying her face in her pillow, he said, “I know it hurts, cherie. It is a cruel thing they did to you.”

  Elena peeked out from the pillow, remembering how he had comforted her on the ride back to the villa, how he spoke quietly in French and English, holding her close to him, gently rubbing all the places she hurt. But now he was examining her body as if she was one of his horses who had been injured. Elena was hurt and infuriated that he treated her in such a cavalier, impersonal manner.

  Bai continued speaking with her father, ignoring her. “See these bruises, Wyatt? They twisted her arms behind her. The way they tied them could have broken her arms. I am relieved to see that she has good motion in both her arms and her wrists. I will send in one of our Chinese healers to manipulate her muscles and to apply some of their magical herbs. We should see real improvement by the time I return.”

  Elena glanced up at her father and ached at the strain on his face. He couldn’t hide his anguish, murmuring soft expletives, as Bai pointed out her various injuries.

  Bai put his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder, acknowledging his distress.

  “Wyatt, I have instructed the household staff to see that Elena gets as much rest as possible in the next several days. At this point, rest will be as powerful a medicine as those pain pills. And without question, the Chinese herbs will be beneficial.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Thanks, Bai.”

  Without looking back or saying good-by to Elena, Bai bowed to Wyatt with a reassuring smile.

  “I look forward to our conversation on Friday. I am confident Elena will be much better by the time I return.”

  He nodded to the maids who were standing at a respectful distance and strode from the room.

  ~~~

  Elena soaked in the bath, reveling in the warm water suffused with fragrant herbs. She longed to scrub her body until it bled -- anything to get rid of the memory of the men who tortured her. She choked at the memory of their filthy, probing hands, their gagging smell. Even lying in this tub of perfumed water, she could smell their stench on her. She was sure the maids did, as well. She closed her eyes. Little by little, she gave in to the soothing bath, allowing her muscles to relax. The maids washed her hair and lathered her body. When they finished, Angel and Francine helped her out of the tub. They dried her hair, then gently dried her body. Sighing softly, they looked dismayed at the extent of her injuries, methodically moving from scrape to scrape, applying the ointments Bai had given them.

  Shaking her head, Angel said “Here, honey, you sit down here. You look mighty shaky, like you might faint.”

  Feeling dizzy, Elena sunk down on the satin covered stool Francine slid beneath her quivering thighs.

  Angel said, “It must be them pain pills or could be that you are just hurt that bad. I know we’re not supposed to say anything about how bad you got hurt, Miss Elena. But, by God, you poor little thing, I ain’t never seen nothing like this.”

  “Hush, Angel, you know what Mr. Bai said. She is fragile. We aren’t to upset her more than she already is.”

  Elena hid her smile while the two young maids brushed her dark red-gold hair, openly discussing her as though she wasn’t present.

  “What else did Mr. Bai tell you to do?” she asked, trying to quell the nausea bubbling in her throat.

  “Just that we should be gentle. And we’re not to talk about how you almost got raped.”

  “Mon dieu, Angel. Now you are saying what he told you not to say. I’m sorry, Miss. Please ignore Angel.”

  Angel mumbled that she was sorry and begged Francine not to tell Mr. Bai what she said.

  Elena flushed, embarrassed. Of course they knew what happened to her. They were there when Bai brought her back to the villa dressed only in his shirt. That and the way she looked didn’t leave much to the imagination. She was sure the servants, the ranch hands, and all the Sing Leon were talking about her. Shame fought with the nausea, threatening to overwhelm her.

  After they finished putting the ointment on her cuts, Francine brought her a nightgown, explaining, “Mr. Bai said to dress you in nightclothes so that you can sleep. Here, Miss Elena, let me help you put this on.”

  Elena shrugged on the gown with an irritated flounce, refusing Francine’s help.

  “I see. Did Mr. Bai tell you to feed me or will I be allowed to do that myself? And when might I be permitted to get dressed? Or do we have to wait until Mr. Bai returns with further orders for me?”

  At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Wyatt stood in the doorway, assessing Elena with a concerned squint. “You look like you’re not feeling well, honey. Do you think you can walk back to your bed?”

  “I might need some help, Father. I don’t know why, but I think I might get sick.”

  “C’mon, baby. Let me help you.” He carried her back to her bed, propping her up against the pillows.

  “Elena, you’ve had a terrible shock. You need to understand that and let us help you.”

  “Now you are sounding like Bai, Father. Are you going to start giving the maids orders? Tell them what I can do? What I can’t?”

  “Sweetheart, there is no need to get all riled up. These women are just trying to help, honey. Bai wants to make sure you are well cared for. And, darlin’, seeing how pale you are, I think he understands what you need better than you do.”

  Pushing herself upright with a pained wince, Elena sniffed. “Father, honestly, why don’t you admit it? He is insufferable. When did Grandfather Wan put him in control of my life? Just because he helped me yesterday doesn’t mean he is in charge of me.”

  Wyatt smiled and said in a mild voice, “That’s a mighty big ‘just because’ honey. Bai did more than help you yesterday; he saved your life.”

  “I know that, Father. And, of course, I appreciate it. But he is so officious, so overbearing. It’s almost like he runs the Sing Leon, not Grandfather Wan. And please don’t forget he killed my horse, my Magic!”

  Wyatt raised his eyebrows and exchanged a quizzical glance with Wan, who stood in the doorway.

  Wan entered the room and bowed to her. “Good morning, Elena. I am relieved to see you awake and spitting fire as you usually do. Do you mind if I join you both for breakfast? And, yes, Bai instructed the maids to bring my breakfast here if I returned in time to eat with you.”

  Elena blushed and sunk back against the pillows. She knew she sounded peevish. “I’m sorry, Grandfather, if I seem ungrateful. I’m just surprised that Bai seems to think he can take over my life. He is so bossy, so grown up. He has changed a lot since I saw him last.”

  Wyatt laughed out loud and Wan smiled broadly.

  “Yes, he has changed in the last ten years. Instead of being a precocious kung fu grandmaster at the age of eighteen and one of my most trusted men, he is now second only to me in the Sing Leon hierarchy. I thank God on a daily basis for his leadership. I am confident he thinks you also have changed considerably since he saw you last, although you are still as feisty as that little girl who used to chase him around begging him to carry you on his shoulders.”

  Elena blushed at the memory and tried to decide why she was angry. She hated that Bai saw her shamed, helpless, unable to protect herself. But now he was acting as though she was still a child--telling her what she should eat, what she should wear, and when she should sleep. She didn’t know which was worse--that he saw her naked and vulnerable, or that he thought of her as a helpless child.

  Most troubling was his anger. He blamed her for the attack. She saw it in his eyes. She looked at Wyatt, then at her grandfather. “Bai blames me for what happened. He thinks it was my fault.”

  Wyatt protested. “No, honey, I’m sure he doesn’t think it was your fault. But I know he was upset, as I was, that you disobeyed your grandfather and went riding by yourself.”

  “See, now you are angry with
me, too, just like Bai is.” Elena’s eyes filled with tears, a sob catching in her throat.

  “Elena, don’t cry, darlin’. I’m not angry with you. Neither is your grandfather. We are upset that you were hurt. Honey, you could have been hurt far worse. Right now you need to rest, baby. Rest and get well. But Bai is right. In a couple of days, when you are feeling better, we need to talk about the things you can and can’t do here at the compound. You know that, don’t you, honey?”

  Elena blinked back tears. She sank down in the bed, overwhelmed with fatigue. Groaning, she admitted to herself that Bai was right. It was a good thing she was wearing a nightgown because she was desperate to sleep. Even though she had taken the pain pills he insisted she take, she hurt everywhere.

  ~~

  Chapter 6

  For the next three days, Elena slept more than she was awake, lulled to a restless slumber by the pain medication she took. On Friday, she refused the pills. She woke early, impatient to dress and leave her chambers.

  Elena rang for her maids, smiling when Angel and Francine both came running at the sound of her bell. They looked surprised, then pleased when she asked them to bring her more than toast and tea for breakfast. For the first time in three days, she was hungry and wanted to eat. Her body still hurt in places, but not the excruciating pain she had felt after the attack. Now, for the first time, even without pain pills, her headache was gone.

  After her bath, Elena rummaged through her clothes, trying to decide what to wear. After being in bedclothes for three days, she was eager to tap her extensive wardrobe. Rejecting several options suggested by Francine, she chose a white silk shirt and slim grey ankle-length skirt. She liked the skirt because the slim cut hugged her bottom, emphasizing her lush curves. Casting an approving eye at herself in the mirror, she smiled appreciatively at the outrageous slit up the front of the skirt. In addition to the practical advantage that made it easier to walk, she loved the way it showed off her knee-high lizard skin boots. Her stepmother, Lei, had all of Elena’s clothes made by high fashion European designers. Like Lei, Elena preferred simple clothes that showed off her curvy body. Too bad all those curves have bruises on them, she thought, grimacing at the ugly marks on her chest, that along with the swell of her breasts were visible at the ‘v’ of her blouse.

  Francine clapped her hands in delight when she saw her.

  “You look beautiful again, Miss Elena. You have such big–how do you say it–busties—we call them ‘seins’ in French. Yours are so full and lush compared to your slim hips and legs.”

  Elena and Angel giggled.

  “We call them breasts, Francine. And, thank you. Yes, I’ve always liked my ‘busties.’ I just wish they weren’t all covered with ugly marks.”

  Angel glanced away, afraid to comment on her injuries, given Mr. Bai’s’ instructions. But Francine got up her courage. “Miss Elena, I have a special cream that hides my freckles when they get darker in the summer. Shall I put some on your bruises to see if they are less noticeable?”

  Elena was excited. “By all means, Francine. My goodness, that would be wonderful. Grandfather invited guests for dinner and wants me to join them if I feel up to it. I was trying to decide what I could wear that would cover up the marks without covering up my ‘busties.’”

  All three young women laughed as Francine ran to get her cream. After much fussing, they were surprised to see the marks seemingly disappear with Francine’s cream.

  Elena studied herself in the mirror, turning from side to side. Giving Francine a quick kiss, she said, “Thank you, Francine. You are a lifesaver. Now I can wear that beautiful new dress my grandfather gave me. He will be pleased.”

  Angel brushed Elena’s hair until it was a shining mass of curls.

  “Your hair, Miss, it is like fire. But these curls--I don’t know how to fix them.”

  Elena shook her head impatiently. “Don’t even try. Whatever I do to tame them, they break loose. Just let them go wild. I will put these clips here to try to hold it back, but you watch, in minutes it will be flying free.”

  Wyatt knocked on the door, smiling broadly when he saw her.

  “Thank God, Elena. You look much better. Bai will be surprised. Sleeping most of the last three days seems to have been what you needed,” he said with a wink, a teasing reference to her annoyance that Bai had insisted she needed to sleep.

  Elena was momentarily embarrassed, but brushed it aside in her excitement about the dinner party. “I admit that sleeping helped. I do feel much better. But look, Father, Francine put some special cream on my bruises. See? They almost look like they disappeared. Now I can wear one of my new dresses for the dinner tonight.”

  “They do look like they’re almost gone, sweetheart.” Wyatt’s soft smile couldn’t hide his unease. “Honey, do you think you’re ready to join us for dinner tonight? It may be too soon.”

  Elena saw his concern. She wished she could reassure him that she was going to be all right.

  “I want to go, Father. I have been in my chambers since it happened. I need to get out, to put it behind me. It will be good for me to be with other people.”

  “Then you shall, my darling. I know your grandfather will be pleased and I will be honored to accompany you. But first things first. Bai is back. He and your grandfather are waiting for us in Wan’s office. Are you ready to discuss what happened at the waterfall, how we can prevent anything like it from happening again?”

  Elena’s heart jumped at the thought of seeing Bai. She didn’t know if she was excited or dreaded meeting his eyes. She knew Bai was angry that she’d left the compound without a guard. She was convinced he blamed her for the attack. For all she knew, her grandfather felt the same way, although he said he didn’t. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then shook her head resolutely. Lifting her chin, she said, “Let’s get it over with. I think I know what will be the primary focus of the conversation.”

  Her father gave her a quick smile and kissed her cheek.

  “Remember, darlin’, we love you. You’re my best girl.”

  Elena hugged her father, then turned with her head held high to go to her grandfather’s office.

  ~~~

  Bai was updating Wan on his meeting with Sheriff Thompson. The day after the attack, the Sing Leon took the bodies of the four dead men to the sheriff and asked him to return them to Clint Dunwoody. They included a cryptic note from Wan Chang indicating the corpses were found on his property. Dunwoody responded with an alcohol fueled tirade at the Golden Horseshoe Saloon. He pledged the next time that his men would not only rape Wan Chang’s granddaughter, but they would do double duty and fuck his daughter Lei, the uppity Chink cunt who was also Wyatt McManus’s wife. Dunwoody swore they would teach those fuckin’ Chinks – especially the Frenchman—a lesson they’d never forget.

  As Bai listened to the sheriff as he relayed Dunwoody’s threats, Bai’s eyes narrowed to gleaming golden slits. He responded with a slight bow, “I look forward to the opportunity to discuss this matter with Mr. Dunwoody. Please relay my open invitation. Any time, any place, at his convenience,” He added with a grim smile, “Or, more likely, at mine.”

  Bai was standing with his back to the wall when Wyatt and Elena entered. Wan rushed to her, grasping her hands in his. Then kissing her cheek, he led her to a seat in front of his desk.

  “You look beautiful, my dear child. Almost your old self. It is hard to believe that you look the way you do after what you have been through.”

  Bai was stunned at her beauty. This is how she must have looked before the attack. She was taller than most women he knew, tall and slender. Her casually elegant shirt emphasized the swell of her breasts, her slim skirt hugged her curvy hips and ass. A delightful rosy hue flushed her naturally pale cheeks. Her mouth was even fuller, more sensuous than he remembered, especially her bottom lip. It was swollen, as though she bit it often. Just the thought of delving in that luscious mouth shot a rush of heat to his already alert cock. He caught
himself. Damn, he chided, remember who she is. A spoiled child who singlehandedly turned the entire compound upside down. He ignored his internal urge for caution and allowed himself to appreciate for the first time the color of her eyes. Before he had seen only the terror in them, the fear. He was startled by the deep blue, almost violet color, shaded by lush dark brows and feathery lashes. The only thing unchanged in his mind was her fire red hair, fighting to escape the careless clips she had put in place, reminding him of the traumatized girl he had held in his arms and in his thoughts for the past three days.

  Wan’s question broke his reverie. “Elena, your father tells me that you want to join us for dinner tonight. Do you think you are strong enough? You know you are not obligated, although I would dearly love you to attend.”

  “Yes, Grandfather, I want to come. Francine put some special cream on my bruises – the ones that show. Look, you can hardly see them.” She pointed to the beautiful swell of her breasts where the bruises were barely perceptible.

  Her grandfather smiled and winked at Bai. “You are right, Elena. The marks are not noticeable, are they, Bai,” he said, smiling at Bai’s obvious interest.

  Bai returned Wan’s wink and bowed to Elena with a slight appreciative smile. He said, grinning to himself at the understatement, “No Elena, I barely noticed the bruises.”

  Wan returned to the question of the dinner party. “Does that mean that you can wear the new dress I had made for you, Elena? I hope so. I know it will look lovely on you. When I saw that fabric I knew for the first time someone captured the color of your eyes.”

  Bai saw the way Wyatt and Wan gazed at her. He was struck again how much they loved her. He shuddered to think what would have happened to them both if Elena had been raped or, God forbid, killed. They never would have recovered. Fresh rage tore through him at the men who hurt her, even more so at Elena. Her careless childish disobedience would have destroyed these two men he loved and respected. With renewed fervor, he determined that nothing like it would happen again. Someone needed to put the fear of God in this headstrong, defiant young woman. He didn’t believe for a moment that either Wyatt or Wan would wield the strong hand she required. But he knew he would. Merde, oui! It was why he insisted on this discussion.