* * *
Nine-thirty according to the clock on the table. Resolving not to panic, despite the fact her doom lay but half an hour away, Christina darted past the lush cream, red and gold decor of her bedroom prison to the door again. She lifted the latch, only to catch sight of the guard’s icy glare.
-116-
The Lady and the Dragon
For a moment, she considered running as fast as her slippered feet would move. But Aunt Mary’s human imitation of a bloodhound was quicker without yards of petticoats to drag him down, and stronger, too. She had the bruises to prove that fact. Besides, how far would she get, clad only in undergarments?
Feeling tears sting the backs of her eyes, she shut the door and closed her eyes. Dear God, what was she going to do, a penniless woman without even a dress? If she didn’t do something soon, she’d be sold off like a brood mare before night’s end.
Whirling, she ran to the window, only to find it locked, as she had every other time she’d sought escape. Blast it all, she had to find a way to flee, to hide. But where? And how? She must think of escape.
A click of the door’s latch was followed by the opening of the portal. Dread clenched her stomach as she watched Aunt Mary drift through, with a glaring red dress and an impersonal smile.
“You look lovely,” she said. “Abebi did a fine job styling your hair. Don’t forget, men love it loose and long like that.”
“Please, Aunt Mary. Put a stop to this.” Her voice trembled. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ve done it well.”
Mary set the dress aside on the bed. “Christina, of course you’re nervous.
You don’t know who your first lover will be, yet you will have one before the night is through. It’s an intimidating thought. But you’re a courageous girl.”
She smiled. “I’ve no doubt you’ll flourish.”
“Let me stay here,” Christina offered desperately. “Let me cook for you.
That’s what I did for the Black Dragon.”
Mary laughed. “You’re a wasted asset in the kitchen, darling. I have a roomful of men downstairs dying to get a glimpse of you. I suspect even the Black Dragon would choose you as his lover, not his cook, if he could see you now.” She sighed breezily. “But time will tell. I’ve invited him tonight.
Somehow, I think he’ll come.”
Christina’s heart leapt both in hope and fear. Would he save her? Or would he come to watch her downfall, witness the sale of her body and soul to another man?
-117-
Shelley Bradley
“Now,” Mary said, a scandalous red dress designed to cover virtually nothing in hand. “Let us put this on you.”
Christina stood stock still, arms crossed over her chest. “I will not wear that!”
Her aunt dragged her gaze over Christina’s body clad only in sheer undergarments, then back to the dress. She tossed the red abomination on the bed. “Perhaps you’re right. What you have on is much more to the point.”
Christina’s eyes widened. Tears slid down her cheeks in a hot drizzle.
Would this nightmare never end? “Give me the dress. I’ll wear it.”
“There’s a good girl,” Mary praised, delivering the garment into Christina’s hands.
Reluctantly, she dragged the tight dress of red silk over her body. It clung like an extension of her own skin about her shoulders and waist. The décolletage dipped dangerously low, exposing the upper swells of her breasts. A slit up both sides of the dress exposed her from ankle to thigh.
Christina felt every inch a whore.
Her aunt fastened the back and smoothed the fabric in place. “You remember everything I told you about mating, don’t you?”
Christina sent her aunt a pained frown, not wanting to revisit the gruesome discussion. She still shuddered at the knowledge her aunt intended her to touch, and even kiss, certain parts of a stranger’s anatomy. Intercourse itself sounded suffocating and painful. She couldn’t fathom that tonight she might be forced to allow an unknown man the same liberties.
No, she wouldn’t allow it. Instead, she would encourage some unsuspecting older gentleman to purchase her, then run from him. Yes, that would be her plan.
Drawing in a deep breath, Christina let the measure of calm her plan created cascade over her distraught nerves. She wouldn’t surrender her body on someone else’s terms.
The clock struck ten. The deep gongs of the clock cracked the façade of Christina’s fragile peace. She sent her aunt a questioning glance.
“Yes, dear heart. It’s time to face your future.”
-118-
The Lady and the Dragon
Chapter Nine
The buzz of conversation died abruptly when Christina entered the large drawing room, led by two of Aunt Mary’s henchmen who each gripped one of her arms. She swallowed hard.
Her darting gaze took in the crowd of nearly fifty men scattered about in the refined dark green and burgundy room. Their lascivious stares made them look like depraved fiends, despite their gentlemanly modes of dress. She did not see the Black Dragon anywhere.
Cigar smoke hung thick and pungent in the air. Christina bit her lip to rein in a cough. She’d never had to endure this sharp smell in England. Smoking was socially prohibited in front of ladies. Clearly, the men in this room no longer considered her worthy enough to observe the social graces.
To them, she was a whore. Tears stung her eyes—and not just from the smoke.
A young man tossed his blond head roguishly as he whistled low and long.
“You’re a fine piece I plan to enjoy.” His gaze scanned her up and down, insultingly thorough. “For a long, long time.”
Christina turned away, feeling the burn of shame. She hated her red dress, hated these men.
God, how had her bid for freedom gone so horribly wrong? From a yearning for independence, she had become a veritable slave.
Fortifying anger surged. She clung to her plan, her gaze scouring the crowd for an old gentleman to encourage, one who couldn’t run quickly enough to catch her. The smoky room made her quest a burning challenge on her eyes, until pointed fingers and whispers of awe drew her attention to the back.
Surprise clutched at her throat. Her heart began to pound in a quick thud.
-119-
Shelley Bradley
She spotted the Black Dragon, leaning against the farthest wall. Hancock stood at his side.
She’d half-expected to see him here, but his presence washed her with a mix of hope, fury and despair. Had he come tonight to save her? Or shake his head at her stupidity? His face gave nothing away. True, he had rescued her from Talbot, but probably because he’d needed to maintain discipline on his ship, not because he wanted her for himself.
Christina’s gaze clung to him. His white shirt contrasted with tight black breeches that encased the length of his hard thighs. She took in the familiar shag of his shoulder-length hair, admitting that he looked massive and dangerous with strong arms crossed over his chest and a gun strapped to his thigh.
If he was worried in the least about the fact that soon she would be forced to bed a stranger, he didn’t show it.
One of Mary’s men ended her stare by pushing her toward a raised dais.
The two workmen lifted her up into a plush chair of white velvet. She sat stiffly, shoulders squared to prevent displaying even more of her cleavage in this sieve of a dress.
She closed her eyes. This could not be happening! Maybe she could run for freedom now. If she could hide until she found a way off the island…
Christina jerked forward in her seat and lifted her skirt, preparing to run.
Aunt Mary’s man grabbed her arm in a vise-grip and discreetly returned her to her chair. A warning glare and a display of the firearm concealed beneath his coat convinced her to remain seated.
Trembling, she raked the crowd with her gaze. On the left half of the sumptuous room, she spotted a thin man whose spectacles, thinning hair and shaking hands gave her hope her plan to ensnare a frail protector would succeed. She sent him a smile she prayed wasn’t nearly as stiff as it felt.