Kay Springsteen (55 page)
Authors: Something Like a Lady
Prologue
Samuel wrapped his arm around the slim waist of his latest conquest. He licked his lips in anticipation of what was to come next, when he took her to the nearest bed. He was so foxed her name escaped him. Carlotta? Celina? He shrugged as he leaned in to nuzzle her soft neck. No matter. His memory faded soon after he tired of each woman he bedded, but there was always another waiting in line. Oftentimes, he brought them here, to one of his favorite inns.
The woman giggled when Samuel closed his eyes, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth. Pulling her closer still, he took possession of her ripe lips, not caring who stood nearby to watch them.
He'd done this before. Many, many times.
As quickly as Samuel placed his lips on the woman's, she was gone, leaving him to pucker up only to the stale air. His eyes popped open. "What the…?"
Another man, dressed in expensive breeches and coat, now had his arms around Samuel's woman. Samuel gritted his teeth, the very teeth that had only moments ago been clasped on soft feminine skin. Now, they bit down hard. On his tongue.
Cursing loudly, Samuel lunged at the other man, pushing the woman aside in the process. "Get your filthy hands off of her. She's mine!"
The man narrowed his eyes, knocking Samuel's hands away from his person. "You are of no consequence to me." He glanced at the woman, his eyes roving over every voluptuous inch. "I like what I see. She is now mine."
Samuel's blood boiled. Heat flooded his face. Vision now blurred from anger and ale, he lowered his head and raced forward, intent upon knocking the other man senseless.
Strong hands once again pushed Samuel away, hard. Staring up at the dirty ceiling, Samuel shook his head, trying to force the room to stop spinning.
Clump. Clump. Clump.
Footsteps…
that last quite close to his ear. Turning his head, Samuel gasped. How easy it would be for the other man to kick him in the face! He forced himself to a sitting position. Perhaps his swirling vision would cal
m. Surely he could stand. He must. There was no way he was letting his woman walk away with someone else. And away from him. Yes, there had always been another waiting for his favor, but suddenly it was important he possess this woman, on this night. It was a matter of pride that he not let her be taken away.
Samuel braced his hands on the floor until he had steadied enough to get his feet under him. Silence in the room had replaced the bawdy laughter of but a few moments ago. Of course, that would be the case. The patrons loved nothing better than to bet on a fight.
The sound of coins being exchanged all about him couldn't peel his eyes from the man standing in front of him. It was now or never. Any show of fear on his part might diminish future chances with other women if word got out that he'd acted the coward. A quick glance to his right showed the woman smiling, eyes gleaming, excited to be the object of such a feud.
Bone smashed bone as a fist knocked his head back, once again setting the room to a twirl. Samuel shook his head, blood now pouring from his nose. More blood ran down his throat. He coughed and spat. Red now colored the dirty floor.
Clenching his fists, Samuel attacked the other man, pounding him again and again about the face and chest. Now they'd find who would win the woman. No way he would give up. It was do…
or die.
The man cursed, wiping blood from his chin. Enraged, he grabbed Samuel's shirtfront, propelling them both toward a grouping of rickety wooden tables. Samuel broke their fall, his back smacking onto the nearest tabletop. Pain lanced through his spine, jarring every bone and muscle. A firm grip lifted him from the table and threw him on the floor in a dusty, bloody heap.
Samuel turned his head. A black boot pulled away from his head, then propelled forward, smashing into his temple.
His world faded to black.
Chapter One
Outside Hammersmith, 1807
Pain. Pain lanced through her entire body. Her ankle throbbed as if her heart pulsed in that exact spot. And cold, so cold, as if sh
e lay upon damp, raw ground. Sasha Douglas clenched her hands into fists. Her stomach roiled with nausea.
Where am I?
Were her eyes open? In the near darkness, it was impossible to say. She squinted against the headache pounding behind her eyes and glanced
up.
And up
. A tiny shaft of sunlight fell across the opening of wherever she was. Dots of fluffy white clouds hung lazily in the blue sky.
She sat up, despite the pain in her head and leg, and tugged her cloak tighter against the chill. Water trickled alo
ng from somewhere beside her. A few inches of water splashed around her boot and seeped into her dress.
What happened? Think, Sasha!
A sharp cry echoed from way above the opening. Sasha dug her nails into her palms. Was it the red-footed falcon she'd watched earlier? Why did the bird's call cause panic in her heart? It had never bothered her before. She closed her eyes and slumped forward with her head and arms over her knees. Her ankle throbbed again. Perhaps if she rubbed it…
no, it didn't help.
Wait
. Whe
re was her left boot? She checked her other foot. Leather and lacings, just as it should be. Her left foot was cold. And wet. The pain throbbed again, from her knee to her ankle and toes. Her stomach knotted in response and she shivered.
Her fingers caught on a large tear in her old walking dress. When she pulled back her hand, something sticky seeped through her gloves. Blood? She must have scraped her leg when she fell into this cold, black hole.
Her teeth chattered in the chilly dampness.
Breathe, Sasha, just breathe.
Memories of earlier in the day flashed across her mind. She'd been walking along a valley as the green expanse of grass swayed in the breeze. Crickets had hummed their peculiar tune. The air was crisp and cool even though the sun shone. The red-footed falcon had cried overhead. She'd not been paying attention to where she was going as she watched the falcon dip and sway in the wind, its feathers gleaming in the sun's reflected rays. Then she'd stepped forward into empty air, and she gasped again as her stomach lurched from the memory.
Fear had flashed through her like icy water. She'd grabbed for support…
at nothing. She'd screamed, and it had echoed as she'd hurtled down the shaft. Had she bounced from the stone surface before she'd crashed a
gainst the cold, wet ground? Sasha remembered nothing else. Nothing at all until the first, pain-wracked moment when she'd woken.
What have I fallen in to?
The hole hadn't been visible from a distance in the tall grass. She hadn't noticed what must have be
en a fairly large opening for her to go through, as she'd watched the hawk. How would she get out? What if she
couldn't
get out?
Will I die down here in this dark, damp place? Please, no. No!
Surely someone would be along to find her, wouldn't they?
Please let
someone find me
. "Help! Someone! Please help me!"
Silence answered.
Sasha glanced up again at the small patch of sky.
I need to get out of
here!
But the distance was too great, and there wouldn't be anything to grasp onto, since the cobblestones along
the wall were slick. Unless someone found her, she would die here, hurt and alone. Thoughts of starving or freezing to death caused new chills to wrack her body.
Someone someday might find her bones. A shepherd seeking a lost sheep? A mason sent to fill in the old well? Would they bury her? She shuddered again.
Circumstances as they were now could not be any worse. Her life would be forever changed. Sorrow gripped her heart at the thought of Samuel. Why? Why did he have to die? Since their parents' deaths, it had been just her and her brother.
Now it was just her.
Since she no longer had a family, there would be no one to even remember who she'd been. Or that she'd even crossed the earth. She had no one, absolutely alone in the world.
Samuel.
The physical h
urt collided with the anguish and anger of her loss.
Why had he gotten into the fight in the inn? He had always been in some kind of trouble and always had promised her each time would be the last. But he'd never kept his word to her. Couldn't he have just
walked away and ignored the taunts of the other man? Then she wouldn't be here. Alone. He'd only been gone a few days, but…
Samuel, I need you.
She slumped against the cold cobblestones, shivering but too miserable to move. Tears dripped down her cheeks and plopped onto her dress. She grieved heavily for her last remaining family member. Nevertheless, she should have been more aware of her surroundings. Look where it had gotten her! Alone and lost. And possibly soon to die below the ground.
No one would have to dig her grave because she was already in it.
Thud. Thud
.
Thud. Thud.
Sasha swallowed hard.
What was that?
She sat up straighter.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Vibrations through the dirt became stronger and more pronounced as the seconds ticked by. The ground trembled. Small stones, from somewhere in the wall above, pelted her arms and head, but any discomfort was dwarfed by the pain in her ankle.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Sasha peered upward.
Someone's coming!
Was it a horse pounding its hooves on the ground
? Did the horse have a rider? She shivered, torn between excitement and fear. "Hello! I'm down here!" No one answered. Were they too far away to hear?
Thud. Thud
.
Thud. Thud.
Her heartbeat pulsed in her ears, competing with the noise above. She needed to still her mind and heart. Holding her breath, however, wasn't successful, only serving to make her suck in mouthfuls of cold, damp air.
Sasha took a deep breath, letting it out a little at a time, and she calmed. She clenched her filthy fingers together. If the horse had a rider, she'd yell for all she was worth. It might be her one chance for life!
But her energy drained away, weakness cr
eeping through her body and mind. Dizziness swirled her vision and thoughts. How much blood had she lost?
Someone please help me.
Astraea Press
Pure. Fiction.
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