"The velvet was just..." A guilty flush spread over her face. "It was just a little rough, Amina. I think the oil can wait 'till we stop to bathe. Today or tomorrow; it won't matter much."
Amina frowned at the obvious lie. She couldn't remember Glee ever lying to her before. Her red-haired friend had come back from her "errand" wearing only her underclothes, her lips were kiss-bruised, and her breasts had been... Something had gone on and Amina determined to find out what. She knew the signs of lovemaking, having been married once and after having three lovers as well.
Falling for the wrong kind of man had cost Amina her tongue, her home, and the respect of her people. Glee meant more to her than anyone else in the world, and Amina was not about to let her innocent friend walk into trouble.
She dropped Glee's chemisette over the girl's head and then began her stern lecture.
"I know something has happened. It was not the velvet that scraped you. Although it hurts me, I will respect your wish to keep this dangerous secret." She frowned harder and pinned Glee with a fierce look. "I am only glad that we are leaving today and that Captain will not press himself further on you."
Glee's eyes widened, but she didn’t comment.
"Yes," Amina gestured, feeling smug. "I have an idea of what has occurred. He kissed you, didn't he?"
Glee bit her swollen lower lip and then nodded. Guiltily, Amina thought.
"And then he managed to convince you to take off your gown, too. Why did you not put it back on when he was through with you, Glee? Did it get torn, stained...?"
"I-I gave it away," she answered, turning away.
Amina followed and faced her again. "Gave it away? To whom? Why? And your petticoats and hoops as well?" Glee did not answer and Amina snapped her fingers in irritation. "Fine. Do not let me help you. I love you like a sister and you treat me like you cannot trust me. My heart is heavy, Glee."
"I do trust you, Amina," Glee said, her voice shaky. "But you, also, must trust me. I am an adult. Is it too much for me to wish to feel a man's caresses? I'll never marry. I don't want to be owned. But why can't I still experience the fulfillment of my physical body?"
"You know why," Amina returned sharply. "Here in America, proper ladies do not take lovers."
"Stuff!" Glee pulled a steel-gray dress trimmed with black braid over her head. "I'm hardly a proper lady, now am I?" She reached out and took Amina's hands, effectively silencing any reply. "Oh Lord, Amina! I can't help but remember what I saw and heard in the harem. The women talked about making love like it was the fulfillment of a dream. And the books! Erdogan has two of the teaching books among his things. Do proper ladies read books about sensual matters? No! But I have. Nilüfer was trying to teach me to read Turkish and those were the books she used."
Amina snatched her hands away. "That woman was a poor influence. I suspect that she only wanted you to join the seviciler. Thank God you did not!"
Glee did not deny Amina's accusations. How could she? Amina had been present during the long hours Glee and Nilüfer had worked at Glee's Turkish. She had seen the supposedly innocent touches Nilüfer had bestowed on her unsuspecting friend. She'd seen Nilüfer introducing Glee to the other seviciler, the women-who-love-women. It was only lucky that they had left the harem when they had, for it was a wicked, decadent place. And no place for a lonely girl like Glee Montrose.
But it was beginning to seem as if they had gone from the frying pan into the fire. Would things now be as they had been when Amina had first come to live with Glee? Even though Glee had been just thirteen, young men had been attracted to her like lions to a baby antelope. Amina remembered very clearly the constant irritation and ensuing arguments between Glee and her father over the unending stream of love-struck boys and, later, men who interrupted their work so often. When Eric Montrose had caught his fifteen-year-old daughter kissing a young French swain, he had finally threatened to send Glee back to Boston. Amina had been relieved, but that feeling had been short-lived. Instead of a return to a more normal, safe environment, Glee had come up with her disguise. A disguise that she had worn without fail until coming to the harem, where, presumably, it was unnecessary.
Amina did not approve. Lies and deceits were evil. Hiding her mistress' great beauty under ugly clothes and head-veils was only providing her with a false defense. Once the dowdy trappings were discarded, Glee would be helpless again, never having learned to play the game of flirtation. A circus acrobat walking the tight-rope for the first time with no net beneath. The proof of this could be seen clearly on Glee today.
After snapping her fingers and shaking her head a few times, Amina let Glee stew. It would do the girl good to think about her inexperience in an objective fashion for a time. And Glee would be away from the source of her current problem, Captain Havington, anyway.
* * * *
Glee spent rather a great deal of time over the next ten days considering her inexperience. But not in the way Amina might have preferred. The autumn rains had returned by the second day west of Fort Kearny, and the route that they followed along the Platte River was sometimes awash if the downpour was particularly hard.
Perhaps because Fletcher had caroused himself into a near-stupor, or perhaps because she was simply a worthy advocate, Glee had convinced the bounty hunter that Alex would die from his injuries if he was not given time to heal and recuperate. Consequently, Alex was allowed to lie on a soft pallet on the bed of the wagon while his ribs recovered. Erdogan, Amina and Glee were often squeezed like new cheese around his big frame when the rain prevented one or two of them from sitting with Hakki on the wagon's bench. Days later, when they were required to get out into the drizzle and onto the ferry crossing from the Platte to the North Fork of the Platte, the close quarters and forced inactivity had brought all tempers to boil.
"No! I insist!" Glee turned away in disgust as Alex hefted her heavy trunk of books onto his shoulder. "Hakki, tell him to stop being so pig-headed and let someone else carry the books. He'll injure himself again, and I, for one, don't care to nurse him anymore!"
Hakki looked from Glee to Alex and shrugged. "Do not carry this trunk, Alex. My mistress says so," he said without conviction.
Alex laughed and moved away with his burden, the chain strung between him and Hakki clanking with every step.
"Oh, thanks!" Glee spouted, throwing her arms in the air. "Erdogan!" she called. The damp little eunuch ran forward with a smaller trunk and a few bundles balanced on top. "Where's Fletcher?"
Erdogan gestured toward the waiting ferry, really no more than a log barge and two pole-men. "He said that he would wait for us on the boat, mistress."
She looked toward Fletcher's ragged form and noticed the droop of his shoulders. "Is he drunk yet?"
Erdogan tried to shrug and a parcel fell into the mud. "I do not know, mistress. He has a bottle though."
Glee retrieved the bundle and patted Erdogan's shoulder. "Only dirty clothes, Erdogan, don't worry. Go on now and get on the ferry." She sighed. Fletcher had taken to drinking ever since their stay at Fort Kearny. He seemed to have an endless supply of putrid-smelling whisky and no hesitation about drinking it no matter the time of day or tasks which awaited him. The job of guarding Alex had been given over to Hakki, who had somehow managed to gain Fletcher's trust. That was fine with Glee. It allowed them to treat him humanely which was more than could be said for Fletcher. The drunker the repulsive bounty hunter got, the meaner he became, and Glee was grateful when he finally fell into his little tent in a whisky-soaked heap at the end of each day.
It was another ten days journey to Fort Laramie, and Glee was tired of rough travel already. This trans-continental adventure was longer and more arduous than any other trip she had ever taken, and it wore on her. Still, she would not have changed her mind and done things differently, for then she would never have met Alejandro Pacheco. And now that he was healed, she thought she might like to try out a few of the things she had only read about in books. There was little harm in it
, as long as she didn't let things go too far. It would be an intellectual exercise. After all, how could she write about such things in the books she planned to write in California, even in innuendo, if she didn't have some in-depth knowledge of them.
She watched the tall, broad man set the trunk of books down on the barge as though it were a crate of feathers, and admired the flow of muscles in his long thighs, his strong back, and powerful arms. His clothing was plastered to him like colorful skin, wet with rain. What must he look like without those garments, wet from sweat rather than rain, or thoroughly oiled with one of Erdogan's spicy lotions?
Glee caught herself and felt the heat of a blush crawl over her face. Knowledge of Alejandro Pacheco's physique would have to wait for an appropriate time. But Lord, make it soon, she thought. She pushed her hat down further on her head and picked up the last of the bundles from the wagon's interior.
With a wave at the hired driver, who would expertly lead the oxen and wagon across the ford of the river, she started toward the barge where her people waited.
* * * *
Circumstances conspired to keep Glee from following though on her plan to experience something more than kisses. The first night after crossing the Platte she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep as Erdogan was massaging her, and no one bothered to awaken her. The second and third nights, she was kept busy comforting Erdogan. Something her cherubic eunuch had done had set off Jake Fletcher's liquor-inflamed temper and the bounty hunter had threatened to "shoot off what was left of yer prick and shove it down yer throat." Of course, Erdogan was terrified and ran to Glee for protection. He wouldn't even sleep in the wagon anymore and spent the nights curled in a ball next to Glee.
By the fourth night, spent in view of Court House Rock, a trailside landmark of sorts, Fletcher had simmered to glowers and muttered comments and Erdogan ceased behaving like a chick clinging to his mother-hen.
Sharing her tent with both Erdogan and Amina left Glee with little privacy, so she knew that she'd have to seek out Alex rather than have Hakki bring him to her. It had been more than two weeks since he'd been so beaten, and he was very well recovered. Glee caught his tawny eyes on her frequently as they read together, sharing the wagon with Erdogan and Amina on wet days. Sometimes that golden gaze held questions, sometimes desire, but always there was unabashed interest. Hopefully, she wasn't misreading the signals. It would be dreadfully humiliating if she was.
Alex slept within the wagon, another more humane policy instituted after Fort Kearny. So, Glee waited until the moon had risen over Court House Rock and the camp was quiet before she made her way out of her tent. She nearly tripped over Hakki, whose long form lay before the flap of the tent. He roused and looked at her strangely, but Glee just smiled and pretended it was normal for her to wander around in the middle of the night wearing her sheerest nightdress and her hair unbound.
"I forgot something in the wagon," she whispered.
He nodded. "Your wish is my command, mistress. What do you desire?"
She frowned. "You really want to know, Hakki?"
His expression was so serious it was grave. "I await only your bidding."
"I wish you would go back to sleep and forget you ever saw me leave this tent." She leaned over and looked deeply into his dark eyes. "Is that clear, Hakki?"
A tiny smile lifted his long moustaches and creased the edges of his eyes, but he answered her unemotionally. "I understand, mistress. Prince Akmed will be very disappointed."
She stood and hugged herself against the cold. "Prince Akmed was doomed to disappointment a long time ago, Hakki. Good-night."
Hakki lay back down and covered his face with his hat, an odd mannerism he'd picked up from Jake Fletcher.
Glee nervously approached the wagon and opened the rear flap. One of the horses nickered in the distance and she jumped.
"Come inside, querida. It is cold."
Glee looked into the dark interior of the wagon and saw something shifting within. The bright flash of a belt buckle as Alex threw back the blankets held her attention until two large, manacled hands grasped her upper arms and urged her inside.
She climbed over the wagon tail and into Alex's nest of blankets and parcels. The canvas flap dropped and they were shrouded in darkness, much as they had been at Fort Kearny's jail. Alex's chains clanked and rang as he pulled her toward him and wrapped a blanket over her shoulders. His fingers brushed her hair, then paused to stroke the length of the silky mane and lift a handful to his face.
"H-How did you know it was me?" Glee asked, growing uncomfortable now that she had gotten this far.
He laughed, a warm sound in the darkness, and Glee felt his hands and then his breath on her face. "Your perfume. Sometimes summer roses, sometimes heady spices." He paused. "Tonight it is something new, hm? Something sweet like honey, and also heavy like musk, and perhaps a little sharp like..." His hands withdrew. "Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?"
She shook her head, but of course he couldn't see. Realizing that he was waiting for her response, Glee reached toward him and found his firm chest, bare except for a mat of fine curls. She almost withdrew her hand, but found she could not; Alex was holding her wrist.
"You come to me in the darkness, Glee. I think still you hide. Still you do not wish to acknowledge this part of you which longs for a man's touch." He began to move her hand around his chest, guiding her across the planes and curves of his upper body until her fingers encountered the cold point of a masculine nipple. Glee felt her own nipples peak in response to her discovery. She explored this part of him with the tips of her fingers, then the flat of her palm, not really noticing when he released her wrist and left her to do as she liked.
"Men and women are very different," he said softly, his words echoing Glee's own thoughts. "And yet in many ways the same. It gave you pleasure when I touched you that way, querida, and you pleasure me also with your fingers. I do not have the pretty breasts of a woman but I can still be aroused by the right touch on my flat ones."
Glee's other hand was guided to the other side of his broad chest and then released. She moved to kneel between Alex's knees and he rested his restricted hands on his thighs, kneeling upright. Something he said made her remember the women in the harem, the seviciler, and how she'd seen them embrace so intimately. Without thinking, Glee pressed her lips to a hard male breast and sought its nipple with her teeth.
Alex drew in a sharp breath and his hands went to her waist, gently easing her away from him. His breathing sounded harsh to Glee and she worried that she had done something wrong.
"I'm sorry, Alejandro," she said. "Have I hurt you?"
A hoarse laugh and then, "No, amor, never that." His hands found her thighs and caressed them absently, his breathing slowing to a more normal pace. "You only surprised me. I did not know I had a tiger in my bed."
Glee felt her face go crimson and was, for once, glad of the darkness. "I suppose it's obvious that I don't know what-"
Warm fingers covered her mouth gently. "What can be obvious in this darkness? Nothing, Glee. All things are unknown, new, and more exciting for being so."
She felt the top of her nightdress come loose and the cool night air against her collarbones. He traced the shallow opening at her throat and then cupped her face, his thumbs smoothing her delicate cheekbones.
"Will you take it off, pequeña tigresa, little tiger? I want to touch you. I have waited for a very long time."
Glee had been waiting a long time too, but was shy in the face of his intent. She fumbled with the ruffled hem of the gown until he helped her pull it up and, finally, off. It lay whitely in the otherwise black space and Glee waited for what seemed like an eternity before she felt Alex's hands on her shoulders.
"You are cold, Glee," he murmured. "Come close to me and I will warm you." She snuggled up against his chest and he guided them down onto his pallet, rolling her beneath him so that he rested his weight on his elbows and forearms on each side of her shoulders. The long
chain of his manacles clanked and thudded against the wagon tail outside, but the length between his wrists came to a rest in the pool of her hair. "Next time, tell me your plans and I will arrange with Hakki to have these manacles exchanged for leg irons through the night. I want to hold you, and I cannot."
Glee squirmed. Her breasts were tingling as they brushed his chest, and her right thigh felt strange with the hard steel rod of his arousal pressed against it. What was she supposed to do now?
"Are you warmer now, mi amor, my love?"
She murmured her agreement.
"Bueno. Then I can begin to pet this pretty tiger in my bed."
A thrill shot from her breasts to her groin at Alex's words. He says the most arousing things, she thought just before his lips found hers and began their long campaign to subdue her mouth.
By the time his lips and tongue had begun a moist path from her throat down toward her right breast, Glee was breathless and throbbing with need. The first flick of his tongue against her nipple was enough to make her arch her back and push her breast against his mouth with a breathy moan. He chuckled. "Ah, my little cat growls. Does she want more, or less?" Again his tongue sent fire shooting through her. Then he paused, waiting for her to answer.
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