Innocence Enslaved (17 page)

The rest of the austerely furnished room left her to wonder what business Corbet had with such a man. The small table with only one chair suggested that he lived alone. On the other hand, the small room was neat and clean, and in the hearth above the fire was a black cooking pot sitting atop raised iron grates. The mouth-watering aroma emanating from it made her think of a rich meaty stew. Either the man was self-sufficient or he had a woman. Abruptly, she frowned, thinking perhaps he owned a slave.

Her belly rumbled loudly, bringing her back to the wonderful smell and her empty stomach, both making her wish she had eaten more at breakfast. She remembered Corbet saying he would be eating with Drake. She wondered if slaves ate with their masters in public. Probably not, since he had not discussed it with her on the way.

Emilia lowered her head quickly when she heard Corbet’s voice growing near. When they walked into the room a moment later, he was thanking the man and telling him he would visit again the following week. From the corner of her eye, she saw them glance her way, finding her in the same position as when they left. Corbet smiled faintly, nodding with approval.

“You’re sure I can’t get a better peek at her? You have my word I will keep my hands to myself.”

“Perhaps in time, old friend. You know I am rather possessive in that regard,” he answered.

“Then there is hope,” the man chuckled.

“You may get up now, pet.” Corbet said as he strode to where she knelt by the door.

Emilia obeyed, being careful to make her movements as graceful as possible while resisting the temptation to peep up at the man’s face. She had presumed the man in the painting was the same man, but was curious to know for sure.

“Be well, friend.”

“And you,” Corbet replied. He opened the door and light flooded into the entryway, which was her cue to focus on his heels as they left.

At the lodge, she was once more instructed to kneel, this time without benefit of a cushion on the hard floor next to Corbet’s chair while he visited with Drake, the spice merchant, who would send word to her mother. Their table sat in the back near what she assumed to be the rear exit. As she knelt, she caught a quick glimpse of the other man; similar in size to Corbet, with clean, glossy black hair that he wore pulled back from his face. He was handsome, classically so, with dark brows, a straight nose, and a thin mustache. He was almost pretty with his perfect features, unlike Corbet, who was striking in a rugged sense, which she preferred. His white shirt buttoned up to his neck, covered by a dark gray overcoat with white cuffs. Refined, she thought, probably not from around here.

“Quite a prize you have there. It is rare to find a dove at auction and one so beautiful,” Drake remarked, as she shifted uncomfortably, trying to settle herself.

“I was fortunate, indeed.”

She smiled inwardly at Corbet’s prideful tone. A moment later, his hand settled on the top of her head and he began softly stroking her hair. Many times today he had called her pet and a few times slave. She was starting to feel exactly that way, like an obedient pet, following at his heels, keeping her eyes on him alone, and minding his every command. It really wasn’t so bad, especially if it meant she could go home soon. She reminded herself it was to her benefit that he’d been at that auction at all. If not for him…

A brief shudder ran through her every time she pictured the ogre-like Glom. If given the choice, yes, she would gladly be Corbet’s pet.

Drake leaned over the table, speaking in an undertone that Emilia couldn’t understand with all the noise in the crowded room, mostly from men having a hearty time with their ale. She picked out the high tenor of a woman’s voice, but it was more distant. She cocked her head slightly in the direction it was coming from. It was difficult to place until it repeated, this time more clearly. The woman was moaning. Angling her head a bit more, she peeked down the short hallway at the thick wooden door that led outside. It was wide open, giving her a perfect view of what was going on behind the lodge.

Her pulse quickened at the sight. A woman stood bent over a horse railing with her legs and bare bottom on display, the rest of her covered by the wispy layers of her dress. A burly man stood behind her, mostly covered by his dark cloak as he thrust into her with vigorous enthusiasm. He’d done no more than open his pants, yet she could clearly see his rod pumping into her over and over. She knew she should look away, but couldn’t, transfixed as she was by the carnal scene.

His arm reached forward and his long fingers speared into the woman’s long raven locks. He pulled her head back, eliciting a long throaty moan from her lips. It was then that he paused, pulled out, and adjusted his angle higher. He slowly pushed into her, making the woman squeal. It took a moment for Emilia to realize that he was pumping into her bottom hole instead of her woman’s channel. Although faint, she could hear the man’s grunts as he began thrusting into her with careless abandon. The woman’s cries became louder as he jerked her back harshly before clamping a hand over her mouth, his hips thrusting determinedly. Strangely, she found the rough way in which he was taking her very exciting.

His hand slipped around her throat as he pulled her up until her back lay against his chest. He clamped both hands onto her bouncing breasts, bared above the lowered edge of her bodice. A few more hard thrusts later, he stiffened, burying his head in her hair as their cries of pleasure filled the air and rolled through the open door, rising faintly above the din of the tavern.

Emilia’s heart was pounding; she felt shamefully aroused by what she had seen. She was on the verge of looking away when the woman moved, dropping to her knees, and to her utter amazement, took his cock into her mouth. A shocked rush of air left her before she could stop it. Immediately, she shifted her focus to her lap, hoping Corbet hadn’t noticed. If he had, he didn’t let on.

A few moments later, food and drink arrived for the men. It smelled wonderful and her belly instantly growled, her hunger now twofold. Burning with curiosity, she wanted to peer out the back door and see if the woman was still there, on her knees, her mouth filled with the cock that had only moments before been deep inside her—but she refrained. Having gotten away with peeking once, twice would get her caught for sure. Lancore was surely wicked. She’d never heard of a woman sucking a man like that or taking his rod up her—

“Look at me, pet.”

She lifted her head, noticing the small piece of meat Corbet held between his fingers.

“Open,” he bade her when their eyes met.

Emilia obeyed, thankful for the morsel he placed on her tongue. The men were quiet while they ate and every few bites, he would give her something from his plate. Sometimes more meat, other times small bits of vegetables or bread. His hand came to her lips, this time with a small cup of red wine. She sipped from it slowly, not wanting any to dribble down her chin. She thought her hand-fed meal was over until he offered another piece of meat. This time when she took it, she closed her lips around his fingers, licking the tips before he could pull them from her mouth.

A grunt came from him and his brown eyes flashed with… something. She wasn’t sure what, but that definitely ended the meal because he didn’t offer another bite or drink after that.

She’d upset him, yet again, with her inappropriate actions and in public. Surely she would hear about it on their way back.

When the meal was done, Corbet’s voice seemed to have a tightness that wasn’t there before as he talked with Drake. They didn’t stay long after the meal before saying goodbye. She hoped it wasn’t because of what she had done.

Judging by the shadows the buildings cast as they crossed the road, Emilia thought it must be late afternoon and wondered where they were going next. Out of nowhere a commotion erupted up ahead accompanied by shouts of alarm and the high-pitched squeals of panicked horses. As she glanced up, a team and an unattended cart piled high with wooden crates was bearing down on her full speed. The cart swayed with the unbalanced load and before she knew it crates were toppling toward her. Corbet reached for her hand at the same time she whirled to run; unfortunately it was in the opposite direction, and they became separated. Everyone around them scattered in fear, dodging the panicked horses and flying crates.

As soon as she was out of danger, she searched frantically for Corbet but couldn’t find him. The upheaval had everyone flooding from the nearby shops and homes to see what had happened. She remembered what he told her about unattached slaves. Fear struck in her belly, as panic rose in her chest. Anyone was allowed to apprehend her and often expected a considerable reward for returning a misplaced slave. Some, he had warned, cared not for respect or reward and would see fit to castigate the wayward slave themselves before they were brought back to their master. He had stressed many times to stay close, not willing to take the smallest chance that she would become separated from him.

Filled with dread, she worked her way through the mass of people and darted down an alleyway in search of a place to hide until the commotion died down. Then maybe she could make her way back to the main road and search for Corbet. Thankful for the slippers that had come with the dress, Emilia scurried across the rough stone riddled roadway to an alley between two shops where she found a place to crouch down, hiding behind a cart full of apples.

She could hear the clamor of chaos in the streets, mostly in the exchanges of the people, several shouting angrily, and a few insensitive sorts, making jests over what had happened. Unexpectedly, a large, forceful hand clamped over her mouth as her body was jerked backward into a hard, burly chest. She struggled, kicking, trying to scream for help behind the big hand, but it was no use, being no match for his superior size and strength.

“Em, hush.”

She stilled upon instant recognition.

Chapter Eleven

“Don’t be frightened, Em. I’m here to rescue you.”

“Lomb?” With his hand still covering her mouth, his name came out muffled.

“Sorry, sweet,” he murmured as he released her. “Can’t have you drawing unwanted attention.”

“It is you?” Emilia exclaimed as she whirled about and peered up at him. His familiar face had never looked better. Hooded by a dark cloak over his rough linen shirt and woolen pants, he was dressed like one of the local peddlers, instead of a knight from Melbourne. It certainly wasn’t how she was used to seeing this good friend of her father’s. She squinted up at him once more, to be sure.

“Shh,” he warned, putting a thick finger to his lips. It was Lomb alright. With his face in shadows, she could still make out his bright green eyes and thick beard, which were distinctive. He took hold of her wrist and pulled her along to a tall sorrel horse, tied to a nearby post. Taking a better look around, Emilia realized where they were. It was the same rail where the woman had been taken only an hour ago, and the open door confirmed she was behind the lodge where she had watched the man in the cloak—

“Lomb!” she spouted in alarm, pulling from his grasp. “It was you!”

“Be quiet,” he urged her gruffly while taking her wrist back hastily and leading her toward the horse.

She decided it wasn’t her place to accuse her family friend of pumping into a strange woman from behind like a wild beast. Still, it felt odd knowing something about him that she’d rather not. Lomb slowed, shooting a questioning glance over his shoulder.

“What was me?”

Swirling images that were most inappropriate made her snap her mouth shut. She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze.

“We don’t have time for foolishness now, girl.” He moved faster, urging her forward until they stood beside his horse. “We need to get out of town before the excitement dies down.” Reaching into his saddle bags, he pulled out one of her plain brown dresses. “Put this on,” he whispered roughly, pushing the material into her hands.

“Here?” she asked, glancing around worriedly.

“I’m big enough to shield you. Do it. Now,” he commanded, crossing his bulky arms.

“You have to help me.” She turned to show him how the dress tied up in the back.

“Damn, I don’t have the time or patience to play lady’s maid.” He started to pull some of his gear down from the large beast. “Change of plans. You’re small enough to lie across Tilly’s rump like a sack of potatoes. I’ll pack my gear around you and no one will be the wiser.” He took hold of her waist and tipped her face down over the animal’s wide rump. “You must lie still or you’ll give us away. Once we are far enough out of town, I’ll let you up and you can ride behind me.”

The thick wool blanket he covered her with made what was left of the daylight disappear. It became hot and stuffy almost instantly, to the point that sweat began to trickle down her neck and back. The gear he piled on top next made her immobile and she became trapped by its heavy weight as it concealed her.

The horse shifted and the saddle creaked as Lomb mounted the horse. Soon they were moving. Not knowing how long she could tolerate the inescapable heat and the awful smell of the beast, she prayed there would be no delays.

* * *

She didn’t know how far they rode, or for how long, but Emilia thought she might suffocate before Lomb finally stopped and peeled away the layers covering her. The light had faded and the sky was a deep midnight blue. Damp with sweat, the cool air chilled her as he helped her down from the horse.

“You alright?” he asked, pushing some stray hair from her forehead. “Your dress is damp, you should change. I’ll help you untie those things now.”

“I don’t want to,” she said. “I would welcome your cloak, instead.” Her teeth began to chatter as she spoke.

“I don’t understand.” He gave her a puzzled look as he pulled the garment from his shoulders, then wrapped her in it.

She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the immediate warmth that engulfed her. “Which way did you go out of town?”