by Brenda Novak
Slowly Alexandra’s faculties began to return. She still felt terribly ill-equipped to do anything difficult, like stand or walk, but she could think two coherent thoughts in a row. And she had recognized Caroline.
“Caroline?”
The woman smiled. “Aye, it’s me.”
“What is it I’m supposed to do?”
Caroline turned away and began to ransack the drawers of the bureau. She tossed a burgundy corset on the floor, mumbling to herself, “I’ve never seen a man who could refuse that.”
“What are you talking about?” With no more strength to hold herself up, Alexandra slumped back onto the floor where she’d been lying in a heap. She wouldn’t have gotten back in the bed, even if she could have dragged herself across the room. “It’s still dark yet. Gunther said I could sleep here until morning. Surely any sewing can wait that long.”
Caroline chuckled and turned to face her, hands on her hips. “Sewing! My, you are an innocent. No one sleeps here at night, my precious, or any other time they have a paying customer. And you just got your first.”
Lifting her head off her arms, Alexandra gazed at the sheer lacy corset Caroline shoved toward her. “My first what?”
“Paying customer. Put this on. There’s a gentleman downstairs who’s had too much to drink, and he grows impatient. Believe me, things will go much smoother if you simply hurry and be done with it. The drunk ones can get violent.”
The things Alexandra had heard and seen since coming to Gunther’s house had swirled in her mind like dreams, weaving themselves in and out of her consciousness. She hadn’t known what was real and what imagined, but finally they coalesced into something that made some sense—only, the picture they painted was frightening indeed.
“You expect me to sell myself?” she gasped, shoving herself back into a sitting position. The question was more of an accusation, but instead of getting defensive, Caroline rolled her eyes.
“I don’t expect nothing. I’m just telling you how to survive here. It’s Gunther who does the expecting—and the collecting. Now, unless you want him to give you a few bruises and maybe a split lip to go with the coming sting to your bottom, I suggest you get dressed. I don’t know how to tell you any plainer.”
“You’re saying he’ll beat me if I refuse? But I never agreed to come here in the first place!”
Caroline shrugged. “He doesn’t always ask permission. And you’re here now, aren’t you? Drake’s coming to take you across the channel in the morning. You’ll never escape once that happens. You won’t even want to. For all the rough riding, a brothel is still better than the gutter, which is where you end up if you leave.”
She paused long enough to study Alexandra’s face, and softened, “Maybe if you act eager to earn a few coins on your back, Gunther will let you stay in England. He only sells the ones he nabs. If he can make a good profit off you here, there’ll be no reason to sell you. That’s your only chance of avoiding France, but that’s the best advice I can give.”
“How can you help him do this?” Alexandra felt panic surge through her veins, weakening limbs that were already too weak to perform their usual functions. “You know I’m ill. He drugged me, didn’t he? That has to be what happened. And I was weak already.”
Caroline shrugged again. “It’s a living. Like I said, a woman will do a lot of things before she lets herself be tossed in the gutter. And I’m not young anymore. We all do what we can.”
She swallowed, as though trying to rid herself of her guilt as easily as she did the spittle in her mouth. “Now, I’m going to change your clothes, and you’re going to let me because I don’t want a beating, even if you do.”
Alexandra tried to fight, but she was far too ill to make any impact on the sturdy Caroline. Soon Caroline had Alexandra dressed in the lacy corset she’d taken from the bureau.
The redhead went out, briefly, and came back again with some sheer silk stockings that looked as though they’d seen better days. After sliding them up Alexandra’s legs, Caroline combed Alexandra’s hair until it shone in the lamplight. When she finished, she stood Alexandra in front of the mirror.
“You have to admit, you look a fetching sight,” she breathed, obviously impressed. “There ain’t a man alive who wouldn’t pay a fortune for a girl like you.”
Alexandra stared at herself, now a stranger, as Caroline dabbed perfume below her ears. “This can’t be happening,” she murmured, feeling tears prick the back of her eyes. She could never allow a strange man to grope and fondle her, to…
She turned beseeching eyes on Caroline. “Please. Please let me go. Give me a few moments to sneak out the back. Lead me to the door. Tell them I was gone when you came up. Anything!”
Pity flickered in Caroline’s eyes, but only momentarily. “Nay, I’m sorry, love. I hate to force you into this kind of life, but Gunther’s my bread and butter. For all his wicked ways, it’s my place to do what he tells me.”
“But I have no chance of defending myself!”
Caroline sighed. “It will hurt the first time. If you need something to bite so you don’t cry out, there’s this.” She reached into the top drawer of the bureau and pulled out a foot of rope, knotted at both ends.
My God, what were they going to do to her that she’d need something like that?
Caroline pulled a chair across the floor and positioned it in front of the fire, then motioned Alexandra into it.
Alexandra obeyed because her head was spinning, and she feared she’d fall if she didn’t sit soon.
“You don’t have to worry about smiling or acting like you’re enjoying yourself, at least,” Caroline said, heading to the door. “This gent knows you’re untouched. A virgin is exactly what he’s asked for, so give him his money’s worth, and maybe I can talk Gunther into keeping you.” With that, she left, locking the door behind her.
Alexandra felt faint. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bowed her head and shoved the blackness away. She had to remain lucid. She had to think, since she could never strong-arm her way out of what was coming.
After a moment she lifted her head, determined to view her surroundings with fresh purpose. Was there anything she could use as a weapon?
Her eyes scanned the dilapidated furniture, the rumpled bed, the trinkets on the dresser. She found a hat-pin holder, but no pins, a single boot, cosmetics, a dirty toothbrush. She even got down on her hands and knees to look under the bed, but found nothing more dangerous than dust and cobwebs and dirty pantaloons.
Coughing, she forced herself to her feet, pausing when she swayed and nearly lost her balance. Then she made her way to the dresser and delved into its drawers.
Feather boas, bits of lace, wrinkled gowns, a single glove, and a wadded up sheet. Nothing there, either. She managed to don a thin wrapper to cover the vulgar apparel Caroline had put on her, but soon found herself at the limit of her strength. With sweat beading on her upper lip, her hand closed around the brush Caroline had left on top of the dresser.
It was all Alexandra had. It would never be enough.
Chapter 14
Booted feet sounded in the hall, drawing closer. Whoever her customer was, he sounded large and every bit as drunk as Caroline had said. Gunther was with him. Alexandra heard the whoremaster curse and tell his companion to watch his step. Then the key turned in the lock.
Instinctively Alexandra drew the wrapper tightly closed. Setting the brush on the dresser, she pulled the chair within easy reach of it and sat, trying to conserve her energy. She felt every bit as though a hungry lion paced beyond the door, fangs bared. How would she live through the coming nightmare?
No, how would she stop it? Saying a silent prayer, she forced her arms to remain at her sides instead of hugging herself as she was tempted to do. She had to convince Gunther she was compliant so he would leave. Never could she take on two men. Not in her current condition. One would be difficult enough, but Alexandra had already decided she’d die before she’d be a victim again.
/> The door creaked on its hinges and Gunther appeared, wearing a grin on his swarthy face. The tall bulk of a man moved behind him, but Alexandra refused to look at him. She kept her eyes on the floor, where the reflection of the fire leaped and danced.
“You have company, lassee,” Gunther said. “Now stand up and show this gent what you’ve got for him tonight.”
Alexandra couldn’t stop the tremors that shook her from head to foot. Closing her eyes, she used the chair to stand, then slipped her wrapper off and slowly turned full circle.
Gunther whistled. “What sweet promise. I’ve half a mind to take you for myself, but this man’s determined to have first crack. And if I’m right about the lust in his eye and the bulge in his pants, he’s ready for you. He’ll make a woman of you, all right, and there’ll be plenty left over for me later, eh?”
An animal-like grunt told Alexandra that Gunther’s client admired her as much as Gunther said. The sound left her sick with dread.
“Fair enough?” Gunther said to the man, who hung back in the shadows behind him.
Alexandra sank into her seat while the money changed hands, trying to will herself the strength she lacked. She could hardly stand. What good would her feeble weapon do her? She had no power to strike with the brush. What she needed was a gun.
“Ride her easy, she’s worth a lot to me,” Gunther said, “and just knock when you’re finished. Caroline will let you out.”
The door shut, a key rattled the lock, and Alexandra forced herself to finally look at the man who had come to prey on her flesh. Primed to defend herself against the threat he posed, it took a moment for her to realize that there was something familiar about him. And not until he stepped out of the shadows and doffed his hat did she recognize who he was.
“Nathaniel!”
He came forward and dropped to one knee, taking in the sight of her with one long, hungry perusal. “Aye, it’s me, but don’t give me that look of relief. I’m more than half tempted to take what I’ve paid for.”
Nathaniel’s eyes devoured her, making Alexandra wonder if she’d mind if he did. She had already shared her body with him in her dreams. Just the thought of making those fantasies a reality was enough to warm her as the fire never could. “How much did you pay?” she asked, giving him a temptress’s smile.
“Gunther was a fool to sell you so cheaply. I’d have given him everything I own.”
Alexandra fought the weakness that weighted her limbs and even her smile. “An unnecessary sacrifice, considering I wouldn’t charge you a farthing.”
His mouth descended on hers, claiming it in a passionate kiss that spoke of desire long suppressed. Alexandra wanted to respond, to abandon herself to the joy of seeing him again. She knew he’d make her safe. She wanted him to teach her pleasure. But she was too weak even to clasp her hands around his neck.
“You’re ill,” he said, worry entering his voice as he pressed a hand to her flushed cheeks. “Has this to do with your gunshot wound?”
She shook her head. “Gunther… drugged me, but I can’t seem to recover.” She let her head loll on the back of the chair because it was too much effort to hold it up.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” he said, his voice fading in her ears. “Where are your clothes?”
Alexandra heard the question. Her mind struggled to communicate that Caroline had taken them, but her mouth refused to form the words, and finally she slipped into the void.
* * *
After depositing Alexandra on the bed, Nathaniel crossed to the dresser. He moved it against the door, and then pulled the flimsy garments from its drawers. None of them looked like something he’d want Alexandra to be seen wearing in public, so he settled on the thin wrapper she had used herself. He put it on her over the revealing corset that nearly drove him mad with longing, and strode to the window to try and jimmy it open. He had to get Alexandra out, and he had to do it now. God had granted him the small miracle of finding her; he was going to make the most of the opportunity.
The window gave way after a moment, and he looked out. It was a long drop, but short of breaking down the door and fighting his way through Gunther and who knew who else, it was the only way.
As if to confirm this, voices rose in the hall outside.
“I tell you, a man with one arm came to the Purple Cow asking about you and the girl not more than two hours ago. Ed would not lie.”
“You’d better be right, Gould. I’ll have your hide if you’re not,” Gunther swore.
Nathaniel scowled. He’d visited the seedy tavern called the Purple Cow in his search for Alexandra. The bartender had evidently given him up.
Gunther tried to open the door, and cursed when he could not. “He’s blocked the entrance.”
The sound of something smashing against the panel reverberated as Gunther made several attempts to break the door open. After the third hit, the dresser began to slide away.
Nathaniel crossed to the bed. “Alexandra.” He added a gentle shake to rouse her.
She blinked up at him, but he could tell by her eyes that she was still dazed. “Alexandra, listen to me. I need your help. I need you to keep yourself from getting scratched and bruised on the way down.”
“The way down?” She gripped his hand in her small, cold ones. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Nathaniel raised her fingers to his mouth, giving them a brief kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll follow you.”
She nodded hesitantly and maneuvered her weight so Nathaniel could strip the sheets from the bed. He tied them together and then around her waist, but she could offer him little help as he carried her to the window and lowered her to the street.
Her feet had scarcely touched the ground when Gunther forced his way into the room. Nathaniel threw the sheet-rope down after her, hoping Alexandra had the strength to make it away from the house where someone might help her. But he couldn’t wait to see. Gunther and the man he had called Gould entered the room, and they both had knives.
Nathaniel pulled the stiletto from his boot and turned to defend himself.
“She’s gone,” Gunther shouted. “Caroline, find the girl!”
Movement in the hall outside told Nathaniel Caroline was heading down the stairs. He had to move quickly.
Dodging a jab from the gangly Gould, Nathaniel made Gunther his goal, but the shorter man blocked the thrust of his knife. Nathaniel felt a sharp sting as Gunther cut his chest. Fortunately, it was little more than a scratch, because he was immediately forced to fend off Gould for a second time.
Ignoring the pain, Nathaniel spun back around and slashed at his attackers, trying to keep them both off-balance. At times he came dangerously close to his targets, causing them to rally and circle around him. Though Gunther was slow and ponderous in his movements, he was powerful. Gould, on the other hand, was less skilled, but in Nathaniel’s opinion, more dangerous. It was difficult to anticipate the action of his knife.
They eyed each other, looking for a vulnerable moment, then Nathaniel dodged left and made a lightening jab at Gunther, who was too slow to escape. Plunging his knife deep into the shorter man’s shoulder, Nathaniel pulled it out again, expecting to defend himself against Gould. But the tall man did not advance. He stood, staring in horror, as blood poured from Gunther’s wound.
Gunther collapsed to his knees, covering the hole in his shoulder with his hands. “He’s killed me. The bloody devil’s killed me!”
“He’ll live,” Nathaniel told Gould, “but only if you spend your time fetching a surgeon instead of troubling me further. Otherwise, you’ll soon find yourself similarly afflicted.”
“Get a doctor,” Gunther groaned.
Gould dropped his blade and ran out of the room while Nathaniel retrieved his money from Gunther’s pockets, along with a tidy sum he considered the whoremaster owed Alexandra.
Nathaniel wiped his knife on Gunther’s trousers, and slid it back into his boot before heading through the hall and down the
stairs. Caroline had ahold of Alexandra out front, but she let her go when she realized Gunther had been hurt.
Scooping Alexandra up, Nathaniel placed her on the saddle of his horse and climbed up behind her. She settled against him, stirring a pleasant sensation in his loins, especially when he remembered what little she wore under the wrapper.
What was it about this girl that made her different from all others? he wondered. She was beautiful, but he’d known beautiful women before, none of whom had held his interest for more than a short while. Alexandra was impetuous, stubborn, high-spirited, and so incredibly innocent. Was that what beguiled him? He wasn’t sure. He only knew that he was drawn to her by something he couldn’t identify. He wanted to protect her, caress her, feel her lips beneath his own—and he wanted to possess her body. But what about her heart?
Nothing has changed, he reminded himself firmly. There’s no room in my life for a woman, especially now. Newcastle awaits.
* * *
The room was hot and stuffy. Flushed faces hovered over mugs, talking incessantly, and loud guffaws rang out from a group of men seated in the corner. Normally, Rat would have felt quite at home in the small, cheerful pub. Tonight, nervous tension kept him from enjoying the atmosphere or his ale. He expected the Duke of Greystone at any moment.
Swirling the amber liquid in his cup, Rat tried to concentrate on what he would say when the duke arrived. He decided upon the amount he planned to demand for his information, then quickly tossed it out as too low. He could deliver Dragonslayer on a silver platter. That had to be worth a great deal, and Greystone was as rich as a king.
A fresh gust of air made Rat’s eyes flick toward the narrow portal that separated the cool, soggy outdoors from the smoke and confusion within. It was only a sailor reeling drunkenly into the street. The door jingled shut and the room became as stifling as it had been before.
Checking the pocket watch he had managed to lift from an unwary gentleman as they passed in the street, Rat frowned. The duke was late. Would he show?