Page 25 of Charlotte's Reckoning
She patted her cheek ungently and crooned, “Ah, but I can. I own you and can do whatever I want. And, with my permission, so can Monsieur Augustine.”
“I’ll fight him. I won’t cooperate.”
“Good!”she exclaimed. “Don’t you understand that’s what he likes? He used to be a military man. At the behest of Napoleon III, the monsieur served as his primary interrogator. He likes to brag that, be it a close-mouthed enemy spy or a misbehaving whore, he’s never failed to get a confession or been unable to break the recipient of his whip— Oops!”Her hand flew to her lips. An artful affectation that would have received applause on any stage. “I’ve given his secret away, one of them at least.”She waved at the guards. “Take her away, boys. The next time I see the little bitch, she’ll be more cooperative; I guaran-damn-tee it.”
When her struggles were ineffectual, she tried pleading with the guards. But beg all she would, they weren’t in the mood to be gracious after what she’d done. And Heloise’s servants were dutiful, if not exactly loyal.
One of them advised as they dragged her down the hall, “Give in, and he’ll soon get bored.”
“Roger’s right,”the other, obviously Nate, agreed. “If you fight, his prick will only get harder. His enjoyment comes not only from causing pain but from conquering resistance.”
“How many before me?”she whispered, her steps lagging as her fear mounted.
“Dozens,”Roger answered. “Madam Heloise caters to customers’ special requests, no matter how unusual or depraved.”
“Men with deep pockets come from as far off as New York City to get their brand of depraved,”Nate said with a snicker.
“Farther than that, you dumb fuck. Augustine’s from France, remember?”
“Living in New York City now. And who are you calling dumb?”he returned in protest. “At least I don’t have to take off my boots to count past ten.”
More insults ensued, leading to pushing. She could only hope it would escalate to a brawl so she could escape, but they arrived at a door midway down the third floor.
Roger reached around her to open it. Staring into the darkness, Rowie’s fear mounted, and she shrank back.
“Please, don’t make me go up there.”
“You faced down the mistress. Given the choice between him and her, I’d take the monsieur. Now move,”Nate ordered, giving her a shove.
Her shin hit with bruising force against the first tread of stairs, and she fell forward. When she stood, rough hands shoved her again. To keep from falling and knocking her teeth out, she climbed, tripping up every other step as they demanded she hurry.
A faint glow became visible as they neared the top.
“Gentlemen, and I use that term extremely loosely, please be careful with my entertainment for the evening. A blank canvas is preferable to begin with.”
Rowie’s head snapped up. At first, he appeared only as a silhouette, but as she drew closer to the brightly lit attic room, his image became more defined. Tall, slender, dressed in a flamboyant lime-green coat, he held a pair of gloves in one hand, slapping them repeatedly against the palm of the other.
“Bring her to the post in the center of the room,s’il vous plaît,”he requested then disappeared into the shadows.
Images of her bound at the wrists and writhing beneath the searing, cracking whip sent her into a panic. She spun, pushing at the two guards. If they fell by her hand, so be it.
“Get out of my way. You can’t make me do this.”
“Afraid we can,”Roger replied impatiently, fending off her flailing hands. “Because we are.”
Nate grunted in exasperation, bent forward, and shoved his shoulder into her belly. He lifted her and carried her, despite her kicking and screaming, the rest of the way.
“Let me go!”
Roger muttered, “Shouldn’t have pissed off the madam,”as he trailed along behind them.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, her word is law in this house,”Nate advised. “Better get that into your head tonight so you don’t have to return for lesson number two.”
“Remove the dress before you bind her,”a voice called from the darkness.
They complied, whisking her barely there gown over her head before they tied her wrists to straps bolted to the top of the post. Once she was bound—the situation well in hand as the madam requested—they departed, closing the door at the foot of the stairs with a solid thud, with an undeniable sense of finality, sealing her fate.
***
