Page 81 of Defending the Duke (The St. Clairs 4)

“Hungry,” Hannah admitted. “But you know about that, don’t you? You’ve lived through all sorts of dreadful things.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice a whisper. “There wasn’t always enough to eat even though all three of us worked long hours. Mama would take turns giving us some of her food, saying she wasn’t hungry. Hudson and I didn’t know any better when we were young and so we would eat whatever she pushed toward us. Later, I understood. Then we all played that game, trying to give one another something and go without ourselves.”

“You told that man to let me go. That you were who he wanted.” Hannah paused. “Who is he, Laurel? Why does he want you?”

She wasn’t sure how much she should tell Hannah, knowing what evils lay in store for them. Her friend was so innocent—but wouldn’t be for long.

“His name is Julius Farmon,” she began. “He is a man that many are afraid of. He owns several businesses and has bought up many more in this neighborhood, including the chandlery where I worked. He also owned the tenement where I lived with Hudson and Mama.”

When she didn’t speak for several minutes, Hannah prompted, “Tell me. I would rather know and prepare myself than be left in the dark.”

“Farmon is a very evil man, Hannah. He wanted me to become his mistress. He made that the condition of keeping my job at the chandlery once he bought it. I... couldn’t.” Her voice broke and she waited again, afraid she would start sobbing and totally lose control. Hannah was already frightened enough. She didn’t need to witness Laurel falling apart.

“I refused him. He is not a man anyone refuses.”

“You think he still wants to make you his mistress?”

She thought Farmon wanted much more than that. He wanted to break her. “I do.”

Laurel couldn’t continue. Her aching face was nothing compared to her aching heart, knowing she would never see Anthony again. Never know his arms about her or share in his kiss. They’d never create the family they both longed for. Then fear struck her.

What if she already carried their child? What would Farmon to do her—and the baby?

“Laurel, I’m frightened,” Hannah said, her voice small.

Laurel moved her hands to where her numbed fingers rested against her friend’s.

“I am, too.”

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