Much Ado About Madams (19 page)

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Authors: Jacquie Rogers

BOOK: Much Ado About Madams
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Lucinda sat in her room alone, elbow on the desk and chin resting on her fist, listening to the disgusting moans and grunts emanating from the other rooms. Every night for the past several weeks she’d confined herself to her room, working on lesson plans and re-reading Shakespeare in a futile attempt to block out the disturbing animal sounds and smells of the customers.

Reese had made little sounds like that when he’d slept beside her. Ashamed, she had to admit that unwanted warm tinglies discomforted her at this very moment. If they were confined to neutral areas, like her nose and elbows, it wouldn’t be so bad. Instead, they invaded her most private of areas, making it difficult—no, impossible—to sit still. Or stand still. Or lie...

She had to think of something productive to keep herself busy. She got up, stared at the trunk holding what meager school supplies remained, and smiled. Mr. Reese McAdams was in for a big surprise when he received the bill for her supplies order.

Oh, fiddlesticks! She’d done her best to get that miscreant out of her mind, but his image popped into her head at the most inopportune moments. Not that there were any moments particularly convenient. But she simply refused to acknowledge those unwanted thoughts, like his strong arms holding her safe, or his eyes—so tender yet so brave in the night.

When he held her, intimate relations between a man and a woman didn’t seem as offensive as the men who paid for services, yet he owned a brothel. His crime against all of womanhood surpassed that of any callous customer who walked through the Comfort Palace’s door. After all, those men only used one woman at a time. A brothel owner used them all for his own ill-gotten gain.

She took a dainty rose-scented hankie from her sleeve and dabbed it to her nose, to no avail. The odor of sex, cigars, and whiskey overpowered any respite the handkerchief could offer. She sighed, then moved her neatly stacked books to the corner of the desk and aligned them precisely one-quarter of an inch from the edge. Precisely. She stood tall and stretched, first to the right, then to the left, then touching the floor with her palms—no one would see such undignified behavior. Besides, sometimes just feeling good justified such actions, at least in private.

Glancing over to the mirror, an unhappy and bored woman looked back at her. Trapped, too. And lonesome. She walked to the dresser and checked to see if her hairpins were all pointing the same direction. They were, and lined up as well. Nothing to do there.

At least the Comfort Palace women weren’t isolated from humanity from five in the evening until morning like she was. She sighed again and picked up her hairbrush. A man groaned in loud ecstasy and Petunia giggled. Sadly, Lucinda didn’t think a single one of the ladies knew what it was like to have a man treat her with tenderness like Reese had shown her.

She heard the clink of coins tossed on the dresser, then a door opened and closed, knowing that Petunia would be straightening up herself and the bed for the next customer.

Love for a dollar. But then, Lucinda had no love at all.

Shouts and a loud crash shattered her thoughts. The floor shuddered beneath her feet. She heard thuds and swearing. The piano music stopped.

Before she could think better of it, she ran out the door, peering over the stairway railing at the melee below. Men punched each other—others sailed over tables, only to pull themselves up and jump into the fight again. They brawled with no thought to messing up the place.

She flinched as one of the twins pulled a man off Holly and punched him in the midsection, then whapped him right in the jaw. He lifted her off the floor and gave her a hug as he pushed her into the storeroom. How sweet.

The big Swede waded back into the fray, and grabbed a lanky cowboy who was about to bash his brother on the back of his head with a beer mug. Much to her dismay, Lucinda realized she’d gone halfway down the stairs. Just as she turned to run back up, someone caught her from behind, dragging her down right in the middle of the fight.

She tripped on her skirts and fell to her hands and knees, heart racing. Something clunked her on the back of the head and fell to the floor beside her. She shook the stars out of her brain and grabbed the offending object—a broken chair leg. She had to get out of there! She came up swinging, trying to make her way to the storeroom to join Holly in relative safety.

Men fell like flies, some knocking her this way and that, some apologizing, all jumping into the fray again. Midas and Titus fought like animals, each taking on two men at a time. Fannie sat on the bar flailing a table leg at any noggin within reach. Felicia crouched at the end of the bar, kicking the feet from under all men who came near.

Lucinda had just made it to the storeroom when Reese burst through the front door, hollering for everyone to calm down, then jumping into the fracas himself. He picked out the biggest, meanest looking man in the room and punched him right in the nose. The bald, muscle-bound brute shook his head, then charged Reese.

He’ll kill Reese!
Lucinda grabbed the rope coiled on the whiskey barrels. She’d seen cowhands rope steers, and the man Reese was fighting was a whole lot bigger.

She wound the end of the rope around her wrist a few times, then twirled the loop in circles over her head just like the cattlemen did. But the bar was in the way.

Reese grunted as he took a hard jab to his stomach and another to the chin. She had to do something! She hitched up her skirt, jumped onto a box, then onto the bar.


What the hell are you doing here?” shouted Fannie.


I’m going to rope that awful man!”


Get to it, then, girl!” Fannie cracked another brawler who made the unfortunate mistake of falling within the reach of her flailing table leg.

Lucinda twirled the lasso over her head again, and again, waiting to get a clear shot.

Reese connected with another punch and dodged the hulk’s roundhouse right.


Christ, woman, throw the damned rope!” Fannie demanded. “He ain’t gonna last long against that bull!”

She threw the rope for all she was worth. But it went up instead of out—falling onto the floor. With as much haste as she could muster, she re-coiled the rope and searched for a better vantage point. The stairs!

She jumped off the bar, ran up the stairs, and threw the loop.

Just then, Reese punched the burly monster in his jaw and both men fell to the floor.

The rope sailed through the air, hooked over the chandelier and fell to the floor again. Reese stepped into the loop and tripped.


On, no!” She ran down the stairs to untangle him, but the rope tightened around her wrist and jerked her up in midair. The other end of the loop that had captured Reese’s foot jerked him upside-down, swinging next to her.

Chapter 10

 


What the hell are you doing?” Reese bellowed as he dangled from the chandelier by Lucinda’s rope looped around his boot. His head swayed a few feet above the floor, just high enough that he couldn’t touch the floor with his fingers.

Lucinda gritted her teeth as the pressure on her shoulder grew by the moment. She thought it would surely separate as the pain intensified.

Then she spied the bloodied hulking beast attempting to stand. The man Reese had bested had come to! Despite her agony, she pumped her legs, swung over and kicked him in the chin. He fell back to the floor with a thunk.


Yahoo!” came a chorus of voices, accompanied by applause.

Lucinda looked around for the first time since the horrid brawl began. All the ladies of the Comfort Palace, Midas and Titus, and the customers still able to stand were cheering her.
Yes, suffragists can meet any challenge
! She wished she could quit swinging, though, because every movement brought stabs of fire to her wrist and shoulder.

She bumped into Reese on the rebound.


God-almighty-thunderation!” Reese yelled.


Please don’t swear,” she said automatically. At least he’d stopped her from swinging. She searched in vain for a way to loosen the rope from her aching arm. But even if she could release her wrist, it would send Reese’s head to the hard floor in a hurry. He probably wouldn’t appreciate that, any more than he appreciated her saving him in the first place. Men were like that. Ungrateful.


Get me
down
and clear out this damned place.
Now!

Reese’s patience was clearly running low, but for the life of her, Lucinda couldn’t think of any way to lower safely. Her wrist ached and her hand numbed. She couldn’t wiggle her fingers anymore, not that she wanted to. She
had
to get down before bodily damage was done.

She heard the ominous creak of straining wood and looked up. Little cracks in the ceiling spread around the chandelier base like a spiderweb. The chandelier was coming loose!


All right men, quit your gawking!” ordered Fannie as she hopped off the bar. She pointed her trusty table leg at the twins. “Midas and Titus, pick up Reese. Felicia, help me hold up Miss Sharpe. If we lift both of ‘em up at the same time, we oughtta be able to get the loop loose from his ankle. Then we can untie her.”


I can help,” Gus said as he sauntered through the kitchen door.

Fannie planted her fists on her hips and glared at him. “And just where the hell have you been?”


Fishing.”


Hmph. Get over there, then, and hoist up Miss Sharpe. On the count of three, everyone lift. One...two...three!”

Lucinda felt Gus lift her and the rope slacken. With her free hand, she unwrapped the rope from her cramped wrist. “I’m loose. You can put me down now.” The sharp pains in her aching shoulder only allowed her to lower her arm slowly. Everything from her neck to her fingertips felt like it had been slashed open with a dull knife.

Gently, Gus lowered her until she stood on the solid floor. It was a welcome feeling, too. She didn’t plan to swing by her wrist again for a very long time.


My God, look at your hand!”

Lucinda studied her purple and swollen appendage as if it were someone else’s, not able to sense her hand at all. Nauseated, she sank to the last riser of the stairs. She couldn’t move her fingers. Her wrist stung and her shoulder burned.

The twins had lowered Reese to the floor and released his boot from the loop. The second he was freed, he jumped up and stomped over to her, red-faced and eyes flashing.


What the blooming hell were you thinking?”

She cringed at his bark and bit her lip to hold back her tears, then called upon all her inner strength to retain some semblance of composure. “I only wanted to help . . .”


Well, you did a piss-poor . . .” He grabbed her numb, swollen hand and started rubbing it furiously.

The stinging made her gasp. “Ow! You’re hurting me!”

Reese continued rubbing hard. “We’ve got to get the blood circulating.”

Where she’d felt nothing before, his rubbing brought fire shooting all the way up her arm. She pulled back but he held fast, stroking her hand with both of his.


Don’t resist unless you want gangrene,” he growled.

Lucinda gritted her teeth. What he said made sense, considering the pain, and she certainly couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her hand so she bore the pain even though his vigorous massage was excruciating. Suffragists are strong, she reminded herself. But a tear escaped down her cheek despite her best efforts.


I’m sorry, darlin’,” he said quietly. “I have to do this.”

She gazed into his eyes and nodded. He truly did sound apologetic.


Aw, hell.” He swept her up into his arms and carried her upstairs to her room. He kicked the door open and laid her gently onto the bed. He sat beside her and continued massaging her hand and wrist.

His presence sent tingles where they shouldn’t have been and she couldn’t resist watching him watch her. He brushed her hand with his lips ever so gently, then kissed her wrist. The pain lessened—a truly amazing thing.


I think it’s better now,” she whispered.

He kissed her forearm and worked his way up past her elbow, then slowly kissed his way to her shoulder. “Yes, it’s much better now,” he murmured.

Yes, it is.

His breath brushed her nape and suddenly she didn’t want him to stop. Her skin prickled with anticipation everywhere his lips touched. She forgot the pain in her arm altogether.

When his lips found the sensitive skin just above the rounded neckline of her dress, she knew she’d lost every bit of sense she ever had. She also knew she couldn’t stop him—not this time. She had to have whatever it was that he could give her.

Suddenly he jumped to his feet, leaving her cold and bereft.


Do me a favor,” he growled. “Don’t ever try to save me again.”

She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him charge out of the room, then let her head flop back to the pillow, hoping her body would forget his touch and that her brain would regain some sense. The pain in her shoulder and wrist returned with a vengeance.

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