Jade Star by Catherine Coulter

bright, she’d been, as bright as her flame-colored hair. He remembered her waiting for him several times outside the Seamen’s Hospital on Front Street. If her damned father had known, he would have had a fit, of course, but somehow he’d never learned of those surreptitious visits. No matter how depressed Saint had been, the sight of her had always make him smile.
    Saint came out of the shadows at the sound of an owl. Hoot, he realized, was in place, as were, Saint hoped, the other dozen Sydney Ducks. A villainous lot, the bunch of them, but he’d take them over the bastards inside the Crooked House any day.
    Saint felt a gentle tugging on his arm.
    â€œDoc, they’ve already auctioned off three Chink gals. Wilkes ain’t to be seen, of course. It’s Danvers who’s doing the dealing.”
    Saint adjusted his full beard and his black wig. Because of his height, he could, by standing on a crate, see through a side window. He nodded to Limpin’ Willie, eased up onto the crate, which wobbled a bit under his weight, and peered again into the room.
    There were at least twenty men, all of them masked, seated in chairs facing a small stage. He’d heard about the anonymity, the major rule, and thus the black masks. It prevented blackmail and a certain amount of embarrassment, he supposed. The curtains behind the stage were black velvet, as were the draperies in the room itself. He felt his blood boil when another quite young Chinese girl was forced out from behind the curtain, her long silken black hair covering her small breasts. He heard muted conversation, heard that sharp-voiced bastard Danvers calling out bids. How many more poor unfortunate girls before Jules? he wondered, concerned that the crate would break beneath him.
    Juliana was wrapped in a thick cloak, her hands tied behind her, a gag in her mouth. Jameson Wilkes was seated beside her, his face utterly emotionless. She’d seen around the curtain briefly, seen the masked men seated in the darkened room.
    It was some sort of club, she thought, with men here for the express purpose of buying women. But she wouldn’t give up. Wilkes had to take off this gag sometime; then she would scream. I’ll fight, I’ll yell and . . .
    Wilkes removed her gag suddenly. “Drink this now, Juliana.”
    She stared at the glass of wine for a long moment. “Why?”
    â€œIt will make everything . . . easier for you.”
    â€œYou had me drink wine before.”
    â€œYes, and you will again, now.”
    She looked wildly about her. Two of Jameson Wilkes’s men stood behind her. “No,” she said, thrusting up her chin.
    She felt the rim of the glass pressing against her teeth. She felt the wine seep into her mouth. She collected it, then jerked her head away and spat the wine full into Jameson Wilkes’s face.
    She saw the look of utter fury contort his features and said very softly, “Why don’t you strike me, you bastard? But you won’t, will you? You can’t. You don’t want to bruise your precious merchandise.”
    Jameson got a hold on himself. “You know, my dear, I’m tempted to feel a bit sorry for the man who buys you. But by then you will no longer be my problem.” He looked at the two men. “Hold her head and keep her mouth open.”
    Jules struggled, but it was no use. She was forced to swallow the wine. She felt Jameson’s handkerchief wipe off the drops that fell down her chin.
    He stood back and stroked his chin. “Very nice. Keep breathing heavily. Your lovely breasts become all the more alluring.”
    â€œI hate you,” she whispered. “You drugged the wine, didn’t you? With more this time.”
    â€œOf course, but you knew that. You will be the most biddable creature imaginable by the time you’re on that stage. Now, just sit quietly. I suspect thatyou’ll be as plaint as I wish in another ten