Microsoft Word - Jenny dreamed (7 page)

The woman had been right, of course. She would not give them reason to abuse her. Jenny had started to drink the liquid, rebelling as she realized what it was, and at a signal from the maid, Sanders had stepped forward to hold her head while she was forced to down it, Sparing herself additional trouble, the woman waited patiently until the drug had taken effect on Jenny before dressing her in a sheer negligee.

The maid seemed to have less compassion than Beau had displayed, brusquely pulling off her layers of clothing in full sight of the guard. To Jenny's drugged mind, it seemed that his leering stare intensified, but she soon found that she didn't care any more. She only wanted to be left alone.

That had all happened last night and now, without the benefit of a clock or even a window to tell her the time of day, Jenny had no idea how many hours had passed. Had she slept the entire next day? Could it be night again? The lack of anything to occupy the passing minutes only intensified her total isolation.

From beyond her door, she occasionally heard feminine giggles and-a deeper rumble of a man's laughter as a couple came down the hall to use one of the rooms. This must be a saloon-one of those disreputable establishments whose dance girls were also available to share a few hours of private entertainment for an additional price.

When she'd been awake for almost an hour, the maid returned, efficiently carrying pail after pail of steaming water to fill the deep brass tub that sat in the corner of the room, half-hidden by a wood and parchment screen.

Jenny broke the silence to ask what had become of her own maid, Isabella. "At least tell me if she's all right," she pleaded anxiously. The request was ignored. "I don't even know who's behind this or why anyone would ..." Her voice trailed off, the statement directed more to herself than the unresponsive maid.

Mavis bustled about, following the orders she'd been given. She knew well enough what this girl's fate would be. The same thing had happened to other girls during I her three years of service to Lil Conti. The others had been whores, girls who were troublesome to Lil, or just too greedy for their own good. This one was different, though, with the clothes and manners of a fine lady. She wondered briefly what the dark-haired beauty had done to deserve such treatment. . Well, it was none of her business, was it? She followed orders and kept her nose out of what went on at. The Black Lily. She wasn't getting any younger, and here, at least, she was fed and clothed and no longer subject to the whims of those grubby, woman-starved miners who'd forgetten that a woman, even a whore, wasn't meant to be maltreated.

If they were planning to addict this girl to opium, why should Lil bother to see she was kept fed and clean? Mavis could only suppose that Lil had some strong, personal grudge in this case and wanted the girl to remain healthy until she was totally dependent on her for a supply of the drug. Again, as she worked the knot of rope from the girl's wrist and found the skin reddened and sore, she reminded herself that it was none of her business.

"You'd best get somethin' down your belly," she advised, wondering why she'd even bothered to suggest it.

The covered plate of food she'd brought the night before was untouched, and she replaced it with the tray she'd just brought. Another tall glass containing the drug sat next to the food.

Mavis had orders to see the girl took it before she left the room.

"I don't want anything," Jenny snapped crossly. "Just tell me who's behind all this!" Her apprehension and fear had multiplied during the long hours of isolation. It seemed that every nerve in her body jangled, and though she wanted to resist, Jenny already craved the tranquility and soothing relief the drug would bring.

The girl's voice had an edge of hysteria Mavis recognized. It would be better if she had the drink now. She would be easier to handle, and, the maid thought in fleeting sympathy, feel less threatened. "You drink this down, honey," she ordered, holding the glass to Jenny's mouth. "I got my orders, and it'll make y'feel lots better. Believe me, there ain't no use fightin' it ... they got other ways, y'know?"

Jenny briefly considered shoving the drug away, spilling it, but the maid was right. There was always more where this had come from. Her body trembled with nervous exhaustion, and the will to resist what seemed inevitable was no longer so strong. Even as she swallowed, draining the glass of the laudanum, she realized that she was succumbing to the distant machinations of the warped mind that had conceived this slow, addicting torture.

The laudanum was soon at work, easing the tension of her limbs and leaving her almost puzzled as to why she had been so upset. No one had hurt her, she was supplied her meals, and the bath looked so inviting that she went along with passive contentment when the maid helped her to disrobe and climb into the warm, scented water.

The colors of the room, shades of dark, mellow red, seemed to surround her as though she were looking at her small world through a glass of port wine. All her senses seemed heightened. Colors were brighter, the perfumed cake of soap brought forth a vivid image of rosebuds, and even the texture of the sponge slipping sensually over her skin felt like the caress of fine satin.

By the time she had washed her hair and finished the bath, the drug had taken full effect.

Jenny found herself almost reluctant to leave the soothing water, but she was as docile as a trusting child now and stood obediently still while Mavis wrapped her in a bath sheet, fluff-dried her hair until it curled damply across her shoulders, and finally, helped her to slip on a fresh gown.

The new negligee was black silk, its bodice lacy and revealing. The silk was gathered beneath her breasts, tied with a single ribbon, and clung to every curve of her slender figure. Jenny's eyes were wide, the blue of her irises almost obscured by their dilated pupils. She held up one arm, touching the black silk that draped it and turningto smile at Mavis. "Oh ... it's so pretty," she whispered softly. With the simple pleasure of a little girl, she added, "I like this much better than the pink, don't you?"

Mavis experienced a twinge of guilt as she led the girl back to bed and helped her beneath the dark velvet bedspread. The drug had made her fears disappear, and her former state of agitation seemed to have dissolved. Anxious to complete her unpleasant duties, Mavis retied the captive's wrist and reached into the deep pocket of her apron for another length of rope.

Lil had emphasized that she wanted both wrists tied, though in her present state, the poor thing was hardly a threat to anyone.

Jenny curiously studied the bonds that restricted her freedom to move about the confined space of her room. She felt no sense of alarm, for she really had no place to go, did she?

With infinite care, her dazed mind slowly turned over the question of why she would be bound so securely but abandoned the effort soon enough when she found it too strenuous an activity.

Mavis finished her work, emptying the bath water and returning the previous day's tray to the small kitchen that serviced the saloon's live-in staff. When she was about to leave, she glanced back with a troubled expression. Jenny smiled, as if to say there was nothing to worry over, and Mavis made a hasty retreat, locking the door after herself before she surrendered to her impulse to disobey Lil's orders and leave the girl unbound.

Jenny slept again, aware that time had passed when she woke only by the gathering shadows at the edges of her room. The single lamp, placed on the nightstand to her left, had burned a quantity of oil and gave off a dim, flickering glow that caused the shadows to shift and dance in a constantly changing pattern.

Once more she drifted into a deep sleep, unaware that Mavis had entered to replenish the lamp's oil supply. The opium-induced rest was also uninterrupted when, several hours later, the door was unlocked once more, and Beau Stanner quietly entered, locking it once more from within.

Beau walked to the side of the bed, his steps muffled against the worn carpeting. The ropes that bound Jennifer Bryant to brass rungs of the headboard came as no great shock as he recalled the wild struggle he'd had getting her into the room without arousing anyone's suspicions.

She was a hellcat, all right! Beneath that ladylike air of good breeding, she was as spirited as any woman he'd met. It had been a long time, as far back as the pre-War South, since he'd chanced on someone like her, and the desire that had flamed within him on the long ride to Helena had stirred him to arraction that surprised even himself.

He'd gone to Lil, offering to give up his share of the stolen gold to spend one night with the girl. He wanted the chance to possess the abducted girl before LiI returned her for the ransom she'd demanded from the bank agent in Langdon who handled her father's account.

Lil's first reaction had been surprise at his offer, but she'd recovered quickly enough to laugh and call him a fool. He could have had all her girls combined for such a cost. "Keep your whores," he'd snapped in reply. He'd had his fill of the cheap, painted bitches who worked for Lil. All he wanted was the girl he'd captured, with her very proper English accent and fresh, untouched beauty.

Now he stared down at her, mesmerized by the enticing swell of white breasts straining gently against the black lace that confined them, and he knew he would have paid twice as much for the pleasure he anticipated. Desire tightened into a knot that twisted deep in his belly, and the physical evidence of his arousal surged to swollen hardness so swiftly he took a deep, gulping breath to calm himself.

Beau was stunned by his feelings. Here he was, an inveterate womanizer, a hardened man who had made his living as a thief, a loner who allowed his bitterness over the South's defeat to ride as his constant companion. And now his hands shook with the nervousness of a boy about to lose his virginity. His fingers fumbled at his shirt and belt, and he swore a sharp oath as he struggled to pull off his boots.

Finally he was free of encumbering clothing and, with an impatient kick, shoved the pile against the wall. Even more than her physical beauty, it was the fact that the Bryant woman was a lady that had lured him to give up so much. He was tired of the painted hussies who feigned loud displays of ecstasy in exchange for a few dollars of his money. They could be had by anyone who paid the price.

Beau knew she would put up a fight, but the victory would be well worth the few scratches it might cost him. She had sharp teeth and knew how to use them-his hand still bore the impressions of her bite.

He eased onto the bed carefully, wanting to study her figure at his leisure, before his lips against her skin wakened her. It surprised him that she slept so soundly, with her arms stretched so uncomfortably above her head, yet he attributed it to the exhaustion of her ordeal and the long, tiring flight from the stage.

With a great deal of care, he slowly edged the cover downward until it lay at the foot of the bed. Undoubtedly the black nightgown had come from Lil's stock of gowns for her girls. It was meant to reveal the figure, fastening as it did just beneath her breasts, and to Beau's delight, the fit was too snug for the young woman who now wore it.

The black lace clung to every rounded curve, outlining the captive bounty of smooth, white flesh that swelled together to form a darkened valley between. Beneath the ribboned tie, the gown was split to the hem, only partially draping the flatness of her belly and allowing him a tempting view of the dark curls nestled between her thighs as well as the firm, tapering length of her legs.

Leaning closer, Beau pulled at the ends of the bow, rewarded as the tautly stretched material parted and revealed more of her breasts with each successive breath. They were even more firm and full than he'd imagined when his arm had banded her close during their ride. A fresh, flowery scent rose from her skin, skin that even in the lamp's glow seemed as finely textured as the silk draping her body.

His fingers played lightly down that valley, brushing each breast and stopping only when she moved restlessly for a moment. She turned her head the opposite way, still unaware he lay next to her, lost in admiration for her uncovered charms. Beau was determined to draw out his pleasure, yet he could no longer restrain the overpowering urges the sight of her had roused. No longer as cautious, he tugged at the black lace and her breasts were bared completely.

He held his breath for a moment as he gazed at the pale pink nipples that seemed to beckon his attention. His head lowered to encircle first one, then the other until the teasing sweep of his tongue had brought them to taut, rose points. A moment later he slid his hand down to the warm, downy softness beneath her belly.

For minutes Beau continued to toy with her, enjoying the sweet taste of her flesh until she began to move restlessly under the spell of his ministrations. A sigh escaped her parted lips and Beau's mouth quickly sought them, reluctantly leaving the hardened points of her nipples to draw on the honeyed taste of her mouth.

Her eyes fluttered open as the length of his bare body came in contact with hers, the crisp, wiry curls covering his chest teasing her already infiamed nipples.

Beau dragged himself away from her mouth, one hand still caressing her belly and thighs while the other, now that she was awake, swept beneath her shoulders to cradle and support her head.

There was no outcry of horror or recoil of shock at finding herself so intimately involved, and for moments Beau felt cheated, believing her refined demeanor had been a ruse, that she was as free and easy as the whores he no longer cared to bed.

Jenny's eyes were heavy-lidded with pleasure, her face flushed with sensuality, and Beau suddenly realized that she didn't recognize him as her abductor. Her response was to some remembered lover and Beau found himself wondering if she could be a widow, even as young as she was. Her lovely eyes were bright and lively no longer, and though he might have suspected that she'd been given some wine to calm her, Beau knew immediately that her mental confusion had nothing to do with alcohol. He drew away from her so that he could think more clearly, swearing an oath as he realized she'd been drugged. It was typical of that hard-hearted bitch, Lil, to pull something like this! There had been times in the past when he'd returned to find one of her regular girls missing and it was rumored that Lil had got them hooked on taking laudanum. and then sold their services to a pimp in Denver.