Alana

by Barrie, Monica

  No one took notice when they acriiedRafe’s limp body along one dock; it didn’t pay to look at things too closely on the waterfront. And even those sets of eyes that marked the progress of the unconscious form knew better than to interfere.

  At the edge of the dock, a stout, uniformed man waited. When the two men who carried Rafe reached him, he silently motioned to two other men behind him. They took Rafe from the others and carried him across the planks that led to the deck of the four-mast Venture. A moment later, the closing of a hatch followed the sound of a body thumping onto a wood floor.

  “You may tell Mr. Ledoque that his ‘cargo’ is in the hold,” Captain Clarke said in an uncaring voice. Turning, he crossed the boarding ramp to his ship. When he stepped onto the deck, he ordered the ramp removed.

  When that was done, the captain issued further instructions to the first mate and then went to his cabin to get some sleep, for this merchantman-class ship of the Allison Shipping Company would be leaving on the morning tide, not four hours from that moment.

  ~~~~~

  Alana stood before the mirror in the large wallpapered bedroom, staring at everything, seeing nothing. She wore the same dress she had been in when Ledoque had captured her, which was now a mass of wrinkled fabric no longer outlining her smoothly curved body. Her mind was a maze of worry and concern for Rafe and not just a little fear for herself.

  The sun had just gone down. A full day had passed since they’d attacked the carriage and Rafe taken from her.

  When Ledoque had taken her into the townhouse, his hand had held her arm in a painful viselike grip. He had not spoken until they’d reached the third floor and he’d put her in this room. "There’s no way out of this house. The doors are barred. Don’t even think of trying to escape. Remember, I can still have Montgomery killed.”

  Then he had left. The clicking of the door’s lock had told her just how much a prisoner she really was.

  Alana had made herself inspect her prison. She’d gone to each window to look for a means of escape; she had found nothing. The windows weren’t sealed, but the ground was three stories below. There was only a straight drop between this building and its neighbor, twenty feet away.

  Then she’d gone to the door and tried the knob. As she’d expected, the door had not budged. She’d crossed the room and opened the door on the far side. It opened into a large necessary room with no windows. But there was another door on the far side. When she’d tried the door, she’d found it too was locked.

  Afraid to use the bed lest Ledoque return and find her in it, Alana had spent a long, sleepless night sitting in the single chair in the bedroom, trying vainly to make herself believe that Rafe was all right and that she would find a way to escape.

  Whenever her fear of the unknown rose to taunt her, she fought it back, thinking of Rafe’s strength and her own. She thought of Crystal, and what her friend had done to survive, and she realized that she could do no less. There was too much at stake. Too many lives depended on her ability to beat Ledoque.

  She’d thought of Rafe’s last words to her, and realized if Ledoque had not done this horrible thing, she and Rafe would have been married by now.

  Anger had flared with the thought. Dark rage had suffused her mind, adding to the strength of purpose that was still growing within her.

  The puzzle of Ledoque’s surprising presence in New York and his kidnapping of her had worried at her mind for most of the night. To help keep her wits about her, she’d tried to figure out why he had done this. Had he been following her in his efforts to ruin herself and Crystal? Could Ledoque be one of the people Rafe was after? Was that really possible, or was she stretching credulity and coincidence to help make herself less fearful? These and other unanswerable questions had paraded through her mind during the long night.

  Morning had found her still in the chair, thinking. The only thing she had been able to decide was that she would do whatever was necessary to please Ledoque. First, she must learn Rafe’s whereabouts; then she would find a means of escape.

  Shortly after reaching this decision, she’d heard the lock on the door click. One of the men who had been with Ledoque the previous night had entered. He’d brought in a serving tray and had set it on the dressing table. Without a word, he’d left, locking the door behind him.

  Although Alana hadn’t been hungry, she’d known she must eat in order to keep up her strength. When she’d finished the meal, she’d finally lain down on the bed and, as her eyes had grown heavy, fallen asleep.

  When she’d awakened, the sun was setting. Sorrowfully, Alana had gone to the window to watch the sun depart from the sky.

  “I will find you, Rafe. As God is my witness, I will find you!”

  After the sun had set, Alana had left the window.

  How will I do it? she’d asked herself, shivering at the thought of Ledoque’s hands on her body. Pushing that fear aside, she’d gone to the mirror to stare at her image in the darkened, blue-papered room.

  Now Alana remembered the talks she and Crystal had been so fond of and the admission Crystal had made about her lack of desire.

  “I make my mind a blank. I do what is necessary to please my customer. He never suspects my feelings, for I never allow them to show. When it is over, I control myself and I control the man.”

  I must not think of anything when he touches me, Alana told herself. While she tried to build her determination to see this through, she once again found herself waiting as the night grew darker and the world more silent.

  She was afraid that she had once again lost Rafe and might never find him again. No, she commanded herself. Don’t think of that. But, she could not help her thoughts, any more than she could slow the frantic beating of her heart as the fear of the known–and the unknown–attacked her.

  “Damn you, Ledoque, get it over with,” she whispered. As if in response to her words, she heard the lock click for the first time since the man had brought her the morning tray.

  Whirling at the sound, Alana’s breath caught. The door opened slowly; Alana saw nothing. Then a young woman wearing the uniform of a maid entered, pulling a tub on wheels filled with steaming water.

  Once inside, and closing the door on the man whom Alana had seen that morning stand guard, the maid lit the gas lamps, then handed Alana a lace and silk nightgown.

  “After your bath,” the maid said, “you are to put this on.” With that, the woman left and the man relocked the door.

  Alana stared at the hot water for several seconds before her trembling fingers went to the bodice of her dress.

  Alana looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying not to see the way every inch of her body showed beneath the sheer material of the silk nightgown. The dark circles of her nipples were clearly visible, as was the darker triangular shading above the joining of her thighs.

  The nightgown’s bodice was low cut, exposing more than an ample amount of her breasts. Beneath the sheer fabric, the rest of their rounded fullness was only slightly less visible. From her breasts, the material hung smooth and straight to the floor. There was no need for the dress to hug her contours, not the way it showed her body beneath it.

  Her cheeks flamed scarlet the longer she stared into the mirror. Reaching behind her, she parted her long hair and brought two evenly divided sections forward, covering her breasts. At least, she thought, I shall have some modesty.

  A moment later, the door opened and the maid entered. “Come with me,” she said in a monotone without looking at Alana.

  Alana did not reply as her heart sped up. Instead, she took a deep breath and followed the woman. They went directly to the stairs, and as they did, Alana looked around, impressing every detail in her mind for later use.

  They reached the second floor, and the maid led her to a set of double doors at the far end of the hallway. There, she opened one and stepped back, motioning Alana forward at the same time.

  Alana walked into the large room and, when the door closed behind her, stop
ped. The rich fabrics decorating the walls of this magnificent room were accented by the high sheen of brass lamps damped to a soft glow. A large painting of a man embracing a woman hung on one wall. Across from it was a huge four-poster bed. A chill crawled up her spine as she looked at the bed.

  Her eyes flicked to the right where a small table had been set for two. On it were two tall candles shimmering in silver holders. Next to the table was a silver serving cart. Beside the cart a bottle rested in a polished bucket.

  Then a noise caught her attention. She turned just as Ledoque entered from another doorway. Time froze as she stared at him. His hair was brushed away from his face; his lips were formed in a half smile. He wore a waist-length silk smoking jacket, his legs encased in thin silk pants.

  Alana repressed a shudder at the sight.

  “Good evening, my dear,” Ledoque said. He walked toward her, his eyes raking her avariciously from her head to her toes. When he stopped, inches from her, he smiled openly. “You must be hungry.”

  Taking her elbow, he led her to the table, where Ledoque lifted a silver bell and rang it. Not three seconds later, a serving woman entered the room. Without instructions, she served Ledoque first, then Alana, and then departed as the aroma of lamb rose to Alana’s nostrils.

  As if reading her mind, Ledoque said, “Madame Lynche, who just served us dinner, has been in my employ for eighteen years. She and her daughter, who brought you here after your bath, are totally loyal to me, for reasons you would not understand. No, my dear, they will not help you.”

  Then Ledoque lifted the bottle of wine and filled both glasses. He raised his glass into the air in a silent gesture to Alana, his eyes sparkling. After one swallow, he spoke.

  “I chose that particular negligee so that I could see all that I want. Your modesty is unwarranted,” he stated pointedly, his eyes narrowing in warning.

  Knowing that she must do whatever was necessary to please him until she learned about Rafe, Alana lifted the hair that covered her breasts and pushed it behind her.

  “Much better,” Ledoque commented as his eyes feasted on the dark circles of her nipples. “Eat.”

  Alana looked down at her plate and was nauseated. “I–I’m not hungry.”

  Ledoque shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  She watched him devour his food and drink three more glasses of wine before he tossed his napkin onto the plate. Alana had but a half glass of wine herself.

  Once again, Ledoque rang his silver bell. When the serving woman reappeared, she cleaned the table silently and pushed the serving cart from the room. While she was gone, Ledoque consumed another glass of wine.

  A few minutes later the woman returned. This time, the cart held a silver teapot and a decanter of brandy. She left the cart at the side of the table and left.

  “Pour me some brandy,” Ledoque ordered.

  Alana stood, did as he instructed, and handed him the glass. He took it, but at the same time his other hand caught her waist. He stared up at her, and then slowly lifted his hand until he was cupping her left breast. Alana closed her eyes and made herself stand perfectly still.

  “You will learn to enjoy my touch,” he stated. Then he took his hand away and sat back.

  Alana returned to her seat in a dark haze. When she looked at him again, she saw his eyes were glazed; his face was somewhat flushed. From drink? she wondered.

  “Do you not want some brandy?” he asked.

  Alana shook her head.

  “A shame, you know. This is the finest brandy in the world. It is the most expensive liquor man has ever made. It comes from the Montpelier vineyards,” he added.

  Alana froze at the mention of the name.

  “Yes, among the many other things that the Montpelier Company exports is this magnificent drink.”

  “You bastard,” Alana spat, unable to hold back her anger as he threw in her face his thievery and deceit.

  “Careful,” Ledoque whispered, his face suddenly tight.

  Within her mind, she heard Crystal’s words of advice about dealing with men. She willed her anger away and made her expression change.

  “Much better,” he said.

  “How do I know that after–after you have had me, you won’t have Rafe killed?” she asked suddenly.

  “You don’t,” Ledoque stated. “Except that I have given you my word. But Alana,” he said, his voice thickening from a combination of drink and lust, “if you don’t please me, I will see to it he dies.”

  Taking a cigar from the serving cart, Ledoque clipped its end and lit it with a candle. He completed the ceremony by drawing deeply on the cigar. When he exhaled, there was a low but persistent tap on the door.

  “Enter,” Ledoque called.

  The man who had been guarding Alana’s door walked to the table. He did not look at Alana, only at Ledoque. Bending, he whispered into Ledoque’s ear.

  Ledoque stood. “A small matter, my dear, I shall be back shortly.” With that, both men left the room, the lock clicking behind them.

  Alana breathed a sigh of relief at her reprieve, but she knew it would end all too soon. Standing quickly, she went to the window. The moon was full, the sky clear.

  She listened for any sounds from behind her, and when she was sure that no one was coming into the room, she opened the window and leaned out. Looking down, she saw a straight drop to the ground two floors below. She wondered if she could survive the jump.

  “If I have to,” she whispered.

  Leaning farther out, she saw that a vine-covered trellis reached the bottom of the window. She smiled for the first time since her horror had begun.

  Then she pulled her head quickly inside, for she saw a dark, furtive shadow emerge into the alleyway. Closing the window, Alana returned to her seat and took a sip of wine to calm her jangling nerves.

  I must learn about Rafe first, she reminded herself. No more outbursts.

  After what seemed to be half an hour, Ledoque returned to the bedroom. As he walked toward her, she saw that his legs were somewhat unsteady.

  “A minor matter,” he told her unnecessarily. Then he stopped, his eyes raking across her breasts. “But now there is something very important to be done.”

  Alana’s heart almost stopped. Her stomach churned.

  “Stand,” he commanded.

  Alana stood.

  “Undress!”

  Fear surged, but she fought it down as she moved away from the table and toward the bed. She knew the only way to learn what he had done with Rafe was to do this disgusting thing.

  At the side of the bed, Alana bent her arms and pulled the nightgown from her shoulders. She grasped the material of the dress and slid it down her arms. When her breasts sprang free, she heard Ledoque’s breathing deepen. Pushing the silken gown from her hips, she stood still as it gathered about her ankles.

  “I have waited a long time for this,” Ledoque said victoriously as he started toward Alana, his hands already working on the belt of his smoking jacket.

  21

  Alana remembered nothing of what had happened between them, concscience of only the soreness between her thighs. But when she smelled his fetid breath and opened her eyes, she found Ledoque next to her, his too-pale body touching hers.

  Alana lay absolutely still while she tried to determine if he was asleep. The way his breath washed across her cheeks made her think he was.

  Moving carefully, Alana slid away from him. When his skin no longer touched hers, she put her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. But when she tried to stand, her arm was imprisoned by his hand.

  “Where are you going?” he asked. “I am not yet finished with you.”

  “To cleanse myself,” she stated.

  “Don’t take too long.”

  Alana left the bed and went to the necessary room, where she found a pitcher of water, a ceramic bowl, and two linen towels. While she made her ablutions, she tried to think of a way to get the information from Ledoque. When she finished, she returned
to the bedroom and to the bed.

  Sitting down, she steeled herself to keep up her determination, and she took a deep breath before she spoke.

  Ledoque spoke first as his hand went to her breast and stroked it knowingly. “I told you that I would have you one day,” he boasted.

  Alana’s skin crawled when his fingers wandered on her breast. Her self-control snapped, and a red sheet of hate fueled her words. “My body perhaps. Nothing else!” Pulling back from his hand, Alana left the bed.

  Ledoque was at her side in an instant, his face twisted with anger. “Everything about you will be mine!” Gripping her upper arms, he shook her violently.

  Alana refused to speak. She only stared at him.

  He released her, shoving her backward as he glared at her. “Are you so vapid that you really think your shipping commission was good luck? Did you really believe that having a whore for a partner would bring you success against me?”

  His words pierced, arrow swift, into her mind. They confirmed things she had not thought possible, and an icy chill ran through her veins.

  “What are you talking about?” Alana asked, absently rubbing the places that he had grasped so cruelly moments before. Her fear of him was gone, replaced now by an even greater sense of foreboding.

  “I planned it all!” he half-shouted as he advanced toward her. “It was my company that offered Landow the commission. Your company will not survive another month. Your ship will never reach Africa. When you fail to fulfill your contract, you will lose everything you possess.”

  “That’s impossible! You’re lying!” Alana cried, but she did not feel the certainty of her own defiant words.

  “No, my dear, it is very possible,” Ledoque stated confidently, his voice now under control. He stopped speaking until he reached Alana, and then, as he started to speak, he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand.

  When Alana tried to pull away, his fingers clamped painfully on each side of her jaw, holding her prisoner and forcing her to face him.