London!

by Terri Pray

  Celeste took a slow breath and hoped that between the corset and her stays that the healing welts would be hidden from the woman's view. With her focus on keeping her fingers from shaking she reached for the small buttons and slowly undid the top of her dress.

  “You're a little nervous right now. Is there something wrong?”

  “No, nothing wrong. I'm just still a little tired from the journey.”

  “Perhaps you should sit down for a minute?” Diana reached for the buttons, opening Celeste's dress for her and slipped it off from Celeste's shoulders. “It can take a lot out of a woman. The travel I mean— oh dear lord. What happened to your back? You've been whipped. What brute did this to you?”

  “I don't think I should discuss this.” Heat burned in twin points in her cheeks.

  Diana looked back at the closed curtains. “Did Lord Davien... ”

  Celeste turned and quickly pressed her fingers against Diana's lips. “Please, I don't need to discuss this right now. There's no point.”

  Emotions flashed across the older woman's face. Her mouth narrowed, lips pressed into a tight thin line, then she shuddered and looked back towards the curtain again. Fear flickered across her eyes, then a brief understanding. “If you change your mind and need help... ”

  “I'll know where to come.”

  Would she use it as a chance to escape? No, there was no point, she had already decided that much. “The dress?”

  “Yes, of course the dress.” Diana blushed then turned away and uncovered the mannequin. “It's time we saw to that side of things isn't it instead of standing here gossiping? I don't know what Lord Davien would think of me, and losing his custom would be a terrible blow for me.”

  Black silk with silver threads through the material. It clung to the dress maker's dummy even though the seams had been left open ready for the final adjustments. The bodice had been cut low, daring even for the fashion of the season and the corset she had would lift her breasts up fully into the view of anyone who saw her. “It's beautiful but don't you think it will show just a little too much skin?”

  “It's fashionable right now and you have the figure to be able to pull it off. You'll have every man out there paying attention to you, ready to court you should you give them the slightest chance to do so.” Diana tried to smile but she kept glancing towards Celeste's marked back with a shudder. “Perhaps you will be able to find one who will treat you a little better?”

  “It is best that we avoid that topic don't you think? There are other more interesting matters to discuss. I've no idea how things work in London and I do believe the season could confuse me quite easily.” Celeste reached for the dress and with Diana's aid managed to slip it into place. If she could turn the woman's attention to the matters of fashion and events then so much the better, though she did still have one small concern that she needed to address. “How low cut is it from the back?”

  “It isn't. It covers to your shoulders nicely, high enough up that the marks will be covered. Or I hope they will be. We'll know more with the final adjustments. I just don't like seeing— never mind, you're right. Better we think of other things. Now you say that you've no experience with the season?”

  Celeste tugged the dress into place carefully and turned to look into the mirror. Even with the open seams and the hem a little too long the affect was not lost on her. Sheer black, her skin almost alabaster and the slender slivers of silver that had been worked into the material all combined to turn the woman in the mirror into a stranger.

  “None at all.”

  “A lamb to the slaughter, or you will be if you don't learn how to handle the women you'll meet there. And the men, they'll eat you alive given half the chance. And not just because of your appearance. You're associated with one of the most wealthy and powerful men who choose not to live in London. So his visit will cause quite a stir. No doubt the husband seekers are on the hunt even now.”

  Celeste tried not to laugh but the soft silvery sound broke free regardless. “I can't imagine any of them being a fit wife for him.”

  “On that we do agree.” Diana chuckled softly. “He is a stubborn and headstrong man if ever I have met one. I doubt he will settle down this side of hell and he's quite content with that fact. Most men have an urge to find someone to continue the family line, Davien seems willing to let his line die out. Or so the gossip goes.”

  That she could well imagine. She could never picture Davien either married or as a father. Especially with the way he preferred to live his life. Hiding that from children with the way that they could get into everything, no it wouldn't work for him. So how did he plan on continuing his family?

  “How long will it take to finish the dress?”

  “A day or so at the most. The seams will need closing and the hem taking up, but that won't take too long. I just need to put the final markers in place. You really do have a figure to die for.”

  To die for? She wouldn't have put it that way but the woman in the mirror was one that she barely recognized.

  “Between your figure and that sweet little accent of yours you'll be the talk of the season. They'll all be wondering where you and Davien met, or what brought you together.” Diana faltered. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry... ”

  “It's all right, I imagine I'll be dealing with a lot of questions like that, either front on or sideways.” Celeste shifted the dress a little and winced. With the healing welts her back remained sensitive but at least she had healed enough that she could sit down without a hiss of pain or looking for a large cushion to put behind her back.

  “Yes, you will indeed and as long as you remember that then everything will work out just fine for you, Celeste.”

  So why did a cold finger now work its way down her spine?

  * * * *

  “The dress will be ready in time?” Davien inquired as they settled back into the carriage.

  “Yes, master. By the end of the week. For tonight I have other dresses I can wear.”

  “Indeed you do. I would prefer to keep that new one for a time better suited for it. Perhaps at young Winter's coming out ball?”

  A coming out ball? She had only heard of such things before. They didn't take place back home, not that she was aware of. No, wait there were such things in Dublin if the chatter of the drovers had been anything to go by. “That might work best, master.”

  Davien smiled and leaned back against the bench. “We will be taking a slightly different route, my slave. Through the park. I have arranged to meet someone.”

  “Might I ask who, master?”

  “Just someone I met during my travels in Ireland. Nothing for you to be overly concerned about and I wouldn't take it as a hint either. He won't help you escape. Believe me, he's not the type to take pity on a woman in distress.”

  That shouldn't have surprised her. The type of men and women he surrounded himself with were not the gentle sort and she had no illusions that they would be interested in crossing Davien Blood just to help a farmer's daughter out. Still her heart had missed a beat at the mention of him being from Ireland.

  “Come here, slave.”

  His voice had dropped into the ice claimed tone that chilled her soul.

  “Yes master.” Without a word of protest she eased across the coach into his lap, and flinched at the strength of his grip as he wrapped his arms tightly about her waist. “How may I serve you, master?”

  Davien didn't speak, he slid one hand up along her back, keeping the other tight about her waist. His fingers combed into her hair until he could grasp the silver blonde tresses firmly. Celeste fought the urge to struggle. Here in the coach it would have been so very easy to call for help to those they passed in the street, a single scream and no doubt at least one man would have tried to find out what was going on. Yet she kept silent.

  He growled and pulled back on her hair, baring her throat.

  “Master?”

  He didn't speak, not a word as he lowered his lips to her exposed skin.
A soft, almost sensual kiss, despite the way he held her in his arms. She couldn't move, her head hurt, burned in places from the grasp in her hair, yet the touch to her throat spoke of a lover's caress.

  Her sex clenched, her thighs pressed tightly together as she squirmed on his lap. Her nipples crinkled and pressed against the edge of her corset as she struggled not to let the fire build up within her core. They weren't home, they were in a carriage, anyone could push the curtain back and see what was going on. What was he doing? If they were caught— no, he was rich. In this time, in this place, a little gold in the right hands and it would all be forgotten. Over looked.

  The rich always had other ways out.

  “Never forget you belong to me. You're mine. I can do whatever I want to you, whenever and wherever. In the carriage, the middle of the street, a party, or behind a tree. You're my slut. My whore. I can rent you out to the entire British army if I desire and I will do so if it pleases me, even if that choice is based on nothing more than a whim. Do you understand me my slut?”

  “Yes, master.” She knew, she understood her very ability to live and breathe rested in his hands.

  “Good. Now no matter what happens you will remain silent during this meeting unless I give you leave to speak. Is that clear?” He pulled back hard on her hair, forcing her to bend further. The edge of her corset bit into her back, she clenched her hands in her lap and tried not to cry out in pain as he forced her into a deep arch.

  “Yes master. I understand.”

  “Good. Disobey me and I will whip the skin from your back— before I send you out as a whore.” It wouldn't have taken much to break her back like this. Fear surged through her body. Gone was the arousal, the need to beg for his touch, instead fear alone ruled. He was no gentle lover. No husband to be. She would never be anything more than a thing to him, a slave, a piece of property to use and find some measure of amusement in.

  The coach drew to a halt.

  “M'lord, we're here.”

  “Thank you.” He called out and released his grip on the trembling young woman. “Now, follow me and remember my words.”

  CHAPTER IX

  The small heels of her boots sank into the damp earth, her fingers caught the edge of her dress, lifting the hem upwards as she followed Davien through the park and away from the wide carriage path that wandered through it. He hadn't said a word to her since they had exited the coach and now as she tried to look back towards the road she couldn't see it very well with the trees and brush in the way.

  If he hadn't already ordered her to silence she would have asked him just how far they were going because each step away from the path only took them deeper into the under brush. This was more like a forest than a park and the last thing she had expected to find in the middle of London. Not that she knew exactly where about she was in the city either.

  A soft sound caught her attention, the step of a foot on a branch or twig from up ahead. She tensed then relaxed as Davien rested one hand on her shoulder and moved her to stand beside a tree. A trunk from another tree rested close by and for a moment she wasn't sure if she would be told to sit down or not, but he just nodded for her to remain in place then took several steps away from her into a clearing.

  A dozen memories flashed through her mind.

  The hunt.

  The way he had touched her amongst the trees.

  The death she had witnessed.

  “You didn't come alone this time I see.” The Irish brogue caught her attention at once as she looked up to search for the source of the rich, male voice.

  “She will not interfere.”

  “I've no doubt of that, a bright bonnie lass you have there, Davien.” The newcomer stepped into the clearing. Dark boots a full great coat and a tri-corn hat that was tipped low over his brow all combined to hide his features within shadows and clothing combined. “You wished to talk?”

  “I want you to remember where the boundaries of my lands are?”

  “Ah lad, I'm well aware just where they are.”

  “So remind me again just why you have been crossing them on your little hunts?”

  A smile glimmered through the darkness. “Some pigeons are worth that little bit of extra effort as I'm sure you're aware of. After all didn't you snatch the lass from my hunting grounds?”

  His hunting grounds?

  Celeste frowned and peered at the man. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her breath caught in the back of her throat as she stared at the man.

  A black cloth covered his mouth, the brim hid most of his eyes but she knew him. Oh god in heaven she knew him.

  “I had my reasons.”

  “And I suppose you heard the Raven had been keeping an eye on the wench and her farm?”

  Davien smiled. “Such things might have been mentioned to me.”

  Revenge. She'd been nothing more than a source of revenge for him. To attack the Raven?

  “So you snagged her just to get to me, well if so ye did a foolish thing. I'm not one to be taking you to war over a wench. There are others out there just as attractive and I'll find my sport elsewhere.”

  Her dreams crumbled beneath his words. Her savior, the one who had watched over her in her dreams was nothing more than a man who would have bedded her and left. Just like any of the local lads she had struggled to keep at arms length. How could she have been so foolish?

  “Then you're a fool, Raven. She's a very interesting young woman to keep around. Celeste, come here my slave.”

  “Ah so ye have broken the wench into one of your play things? Why would that be of interest to me?” He smiled, lifting his head as Celeste walked over to her master. Dark eyes fixed on her form, taking in her every move.

  Could he see the pain in her face? Or the way she now felt as though her heart had been ripped out from her chest? No, why would he notice it? She was just a woman he'd shared a single kiss with. One he might have tumbled if she had given him the chance. God, what a fool she had been to try and turn him into some sort of avenging angel who would swoop in and save her from Davien.

  “Undo your dress my pet and show him your back. I think he will enjoy this. Perhaps you will as well.”

  She glanced at Davien, wanting to plead with him, but locked in silence as she was she had no way of doing so. Slowly she turned her back to the two men and took a deep breath, clamping down on the tears that threatened to run down her cheeks. She was ice, made of ice. Nothing could affect her, least of all a man like the Raven. A thief who had stolen a kiss and would have taken so much more.

  Better that she now belonged to Davien. At least she knew where she stood with him. There had been no false promises, no hopes that he would change. He was simply Davien Blood, her lord and master. Her fingers shook as she undid the small buttons on her dress as she listened to the two men.

  What made it worse was the fact Davien was right. In some warped and twisted way she was enjoying stripping before them both.

  “You have her well trained, and your point is?”

  “Just watch, Raven. You won't be disappointed.”

  “Well I'm not one to turn down the idea of watching a woman strip. She did have more than her fair share of appeal that day. Did she tell ye about the kiss?”

  “Yes, she did. I think she's enjoyed thinking about you. Perhaps she's even fantasized about meeting you again.”

  She pushed her dress down to her waist. Even with the corset the top of the welts could be seen.

  “Never can tell with women.” She could hear the shrug in the Raven's voice without looking at him. “They tend to change their minds at the drop of a hat and... ” His voice trailed off into a low hiss.

  “She marks well?”

  “Lord have mercy.”

  “Perhaps you'd like to see more of them?”

  “She hasn't run from you? Or cried for help?”

  “Why would she? She enjoys it. Oh she protested that at first, fought me on it every step of the way but now she accepts it and
has learned to enjoy it.” Davien moved behind her, resting one hand on her waist. “She squirms well under the whip, the pain heats her well and she has become a willing little slut to the pain.”

  “Interesting, she had the reputation of an ice maiden, and yet now you claim she's a hot little slut?”

  “Hotter than you would find in any whore house, she still retains that flush of innocence and outrage. Besides I am able to command her in any way I desire.”

  She flinched, a second hand, one gloved in leather and not belonging to Davien, now touched her upper back. One finger traced the line of a welt until it disappeared beneath her corset and stays. “The rest of her back?”

  “Is well marked, healing though. I won't add to the welts until she is fully healed. However that doesn't stop her from being marked elsewhere. She responds well to a firm spanking.”

  What did they think she was? An animal to be discussed, measured by what she could take? Heat flamed in her cheeks, her hands clenched into tight fists as she struggled to remain in control of her emotions.

  “Show me.”

  “Strip the corset off.”

  She nodded, biting into her bottom lip. Protesting, fighting, it wouldn't help and at best she'd be punished in front of the Raven. Not something she wanted to face. No, better that she keep her emotions in check. Celeste stripped the dress off and set it to one side on the downed trunk. Standing in her boots and under garments she began to unlace the corset carefully.

  “She hasn't tried to run from you at all?”

  “No, and she took part in the hunt not so long ago.”

  “Ah yes, your hunts. Maybe one day I will join you for such a thing.” The gloved hand moved across her shoulders then back down to the edge of her corset.

  Celeste hesitated then slipped the boned device down her stomach, sliding it over her thighs before she set it on the log. A soft tremble ran through her body when she stood back up and lowered her stays at the back, baring the welts fully to the view of both men.

  “Well well, that is a pretty sight indeed.”