Almost a Lady by Heidi Betts

herself another occupation.
    She glanced at Brandt through her peripheral vision. Where would stubborn refusal get her, other than kicked into the street like a cur?
    Robert implored her with a desperate expression. She inhaled deeply, counting to seven before a smile stretched across her tight lips.
    "Fine,” she said in a calm, decisive voice. “If Mr. Donovan will lower his standards and agree to work with me, then I guess I can do the same.” She waited only a heartbeat before adding, “My standards were never all that high to begin with."
    Brandt ignored her. “The Union Pacific will not be happy to hear that you refused to allow me to investigate,” he threatened.
    Her first inclination had been right, Willow thought: brainless Neanderthal. Never threaten Robert was very high on her list of things not to do.
    Robert's jaw clamped shut, all but chipping teeth. “I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Donovan,” he said in a tight, clipped tone. “But then, your presence is not really necessary. A Pinkerton operative was murdered. That it happened on a Union Pacific passenger car is fairly insignificant at this point."
    He stood, resting his closed fists on the desk. “Now, I am giving you the opportunity to investigate, as your company has requested. However, this offer hinges on your agreement to work with Agent Hastings. If you find this arrangement unacceptable, then I bid you adieu .” He held his hand out to Brandt.
    Au revoir . Bon voyage, Willow added silently. Don't let the door hit you in the back on the way out . Things were looking up. Robert would be so impressed by her ladylike behavior through all of this that he would assign her the case even after Brandt Donovan stormed out, refusing to work with a woman. Whoever said, “You can't have your cake and eat it, too,” didn't know a fig about the art of manipulation.
    "If that's your position,” Brandt said to Robert, “then I have only one thing to say."
    Willow stood, holding out her hand to Brandt. He was taking entirely too much time to turn down Robert's offer. “It was nice to see you again, sir.” That lie was the hardest she'd had to swallow in a while.
    "What is it?” Robert asked, continuing the conversation around Willow's rush to see Brandt Donovan on a train bound for Boston.
    Ivory teeth gleamed as Brandt grinned. He took her proffered hand and brought it to his lips for a light kiss.
    Uh-oh.
    "Where do we begin?"

Chapter Eight

    Candles burned all around. The smell of flame and wax permeated the shimmering darkness. The uneven gray stones that made up the walls of this dark dungeon sent a sharp chill through the room.
    A whimper of fright reached his ears. He stared hard at the woman tied and gagged on the altar before him. Her arms were spread out on either side of her body, her legs bound tightly together at the ankles. A feminine replication of the crucifix that hung on the wall above her head, she represented a sacrifice like that of Jesus on the cross.
    She struggled against her bonds, trying to scream past the thick cloth stuffed in her mouth.
    "She is ready,” the man said to his companion, who stood alone in a dark corner. “Bring me my cloak."
    A cloud of black material fell about his shoulders. He reached up with gnarled fingers to fasten the clasp at his neck.
    "For your sins you must pay. To God you must repent.” He circled the altar, swinging the aspergillum back and forth over her naked form, sprinkling her flesh with Holy water. “ Asperges me, Domine , hyssopo , et mundabor : lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor ,” he chanted in the language of the
Old
Church
. “Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, Lord, and I shall be cleansed,” he repeated for her benefit. “Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."
    The petite woman shivered in terror.
    He stopped beside her head, removing the cloth from her mouth. “For your sins you must pay,” he intoned. “To God you must repent. Do you regret your wicked