Understand?”
Katie nodded quickly under his hand. His long fingers slipped away from her mouth until they were cupping her face. Katie swallowed and looked up into the heated eyes so close to hers.
“My lord, I don’t want to do… that.” She could hardly recognize the hoarse panic-stricken whisper as her own voice.
Linden caressed her delicate jawline with his thumb. “Then you shouldn’t go to men’s houses, sweeting. God, especially not the houses of men like me.” There was no soft mercy in the sable eyes. But then, surprisingly, his eyes lightened, and Linden rolled onto his back and laughed. “Lord, child, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone refer to it as… ‘that’!”
Free of the steely arms, Katie quickly threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood trembling on the rug. Lord Linden stretched out his hand to stroke Katie’s forearm lightly.
“Katie, my poor child. Don’t make me angry now, you won’t like it, I promise you. Come back to bed.” His voice was soft, friendly, and utterly pitiless.
“But Lord Linden, you see it was Zack…” She felt his fingers encircle her wrist painfully.
“Katie,” said Linden calmly, “I don’t want to hear about your problems with your pimp. If you raise that subject again, I’ll do something to make you wish you hadn’t. Do you want me to be more specific?”
Katie shook her head and played her last card.
“Lord Linden, I’m a virgin.”
Apparently Lord Linden was not among that admirable fraternity who consider the preservation of virginity a laudable aim.
“That, at least, I can do something about,” he snapped. Lord Linden’s temperament, never noted for its sweetness in sobriety, had about as much forbearance as a striking adder’s when he was drunk. He twisted her wrist harshly, and she cried out. He ignored her. “Look. You came here by your own choice. It’s too late for second thoughts. Because you don’t seem to have much experience, then I had better explain that I want you. Now. And if you don’t come back to bed, then I’ll bring you and you’ll be hurt. You don’t want that, do you? No. Neither do I. And if you’re thinking of crying, I had better warn you that nothing makes me lose patience faster.”
Katie stared at him, her face amazingly free of anger, condemnation, or rancor. She merely looked tired, perhaps a little forlorn and frightened, but also oddly trusting. She looked sadly at the ruthless fingers guarding her wrist. Then, trembling very slightly, she lowered herself to the bed.
“No, I won’t cry,” she said, “I never cry.” In a gesture very like her reaction to Nasty Ned when he had raised the blackjack to strike her at the cock pit, Katie closed her eyes and lay her arms at her sides.
Linden studied her curiously, wondering what struggles in her life had schooled her to this final, unresentful fatalism. It was as though a long and overpowering experience with defeat had taught her the futility of resistance after she had recognized failure. Laurel, in a similar situation, would have fought to the end. Lord Linden’s conscience rarely interfered with his pleasures and he was unaccustomed to denying himself, but neither was he cruel enough to bring this shivering child to her knees one more time. He stood up, walked to the door, and removed the key, throwing it onto the bed beside Katie.
“Lock it,” he said, going out and pulling the door firmly shut behind him.
Chapter Four
Katie awoke the next morning by degrees that blended together in an idle, leisurely progression. After Lord Linden’s abrupt departure last night, she had risen obediently to lock the door, loosened the string about her waist that served as a belt, and crawled between the crisp sheets of Linden’s bed. I shall never sleep tonight, Katie thought, and that was the last thing she remembered until the clapping rattle of a wagon’s metal wheels on the street below called her back to consciousness.
Katie nodded quickly under his hand. His long fingers slipped away from her mouth until they were cupping her face. Katie swallowed and looked up into the heated eyes so close to hers.
“My lord, I don’t want to do… that.” She could hardly recognize the hoarse panic-stricken whisper as her own voice.
Linden caressed her delicate jawline with his thumb. “Then you shouldn’t go to men’s houses, sweeting. God, especially not the houses of men like me.” There was no soft mercy in the sable eyes. But then, surprisingly, his eyes lightened, and Linden rolled onto his back and laughed. “Lord, child, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone refer to it as… ‘that’!”
Free of the steely arms, Katie quickly threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood trembling on the rug. Lord Linden stretched out his hand to stroke Katie’s forearm lightly.
“Katie, my poor child. Don’t make me angry now, you won’t like it, I promise you. Come back to bed.” His voice was soft, friendly, and utterly pitiless.
“But Lord Linden, you see it was Zack…” She felt his fingers encircle her wrist painfully.
“Katie,” said Linden calmly, “I don’t want to hear about your problems with your pimp. If you raise that subject again, I’ll do something to make you wish you hadn’t. Do you want me to be more specific?”
Katie shook her head and played her last card.
“Lord Linden, I’m a virgin.”
Apparently Lord Linden was not among that admirable fraternity who consider the preservation of virginity a laudable aim.
“That, at least, I can do something about,” he snapped. Lord Linden’s temperament, never noted for its sweetness in sobriety, had about as much forbearance as a striking adder’s when he was drunk. He twisted her wrist harshly, and she cried out. He ignored her. “Look. You came here by your own choice. It’s too late for second thoughts. Because you don’t seem to have much experience, then I had better explain that I want you. Now. And if you don’t come back to bed, then I’ll bring you and you’ll be hurt. You don’t want that, do you? No. Neither do I. And if you’re thinking of crying, I had better warn you that nothing makes me lose patience faster.”
Katie stared at him, her face amazingly free of anger, condemnation, or rancor. She merely looked tired, perhaps a little forlorn and frightened, but also oddly trusting. She looked sadly at the ruthless fingers guarding her wrist. Then, trembling very slightly, she lowered herself to the bed.
“No, I won’t cry,” she said, “I never cry.” In a gesture very like her reaction to Nasty Ned when he had raised the blackjack to strike her at the cock pit, Katie closed her eyes and lay her arms at her sides.
Linden studied her curiously, wondering what struggles in her life had schooled her to this final, unresentful fatalism. It was as though a long and overpowering experience with defeat had taught her the futility of resistance after she had recognized failure. Laurel, in a similar situation, would have fought to the end. Lord Linden’s conscience rarely interfered with his pleasures and he was unaccustomed to denying himself, but neither was he cruel enough to bring this shivering child to her knees one more time. He stood up, walked to the door, and removed the key, throwing it onto the bed beside Katie.
“Lock it,” he said, going out and pulling the door firmly shut behind him.
Chapter Four
Katie awoke the next morning by degrees that blended together in an idle, leisurely progression. After Lord Linden’s abrupt departure last night, she had risen obediently to lock the door, loosened the string about her waist that served as a belt, and crawled between the crisp sheets of Linden’s bed. I shall never sleep tonight, Katie thought, and that was the last thing she remembered until the clapping rattle of a wagon’s metal wheels on the street below called her back to consciousness.
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