Devil's Daughter (14 page)

Adam turned at the sound of booted steps outside the drawing room. The other men rose, setting down their drinks and their playing cards. The door suddenly burst open and the Comte de la Valle entered, a cloaked figure held tightly in his arms.

“Good evening,
mes diables,
” Gervaise said. The cloaked girl was struggling against him, but he did not appear to notice.

“Marchese,” he said, “your surprise.”

He dropped the girl to her feet and pulled back the hood of her cloak.

Adam’s glass shattered on the hearth. Rayna Lyndhurst stood before him, her eyes wide with terror, her hands bound and her mouth gagged with a silk handkerchief.

T
he comte dropped Rayna to her feet in view of at least eight men, all staring at her in stunned silence. She recognized many of them from the court. Her gaze caught the marchese when the glass slipped from his hand. She wanted to run to him, but the comte held her firmly by her wrist. She kept her eyes on the marchese’s face.

“Well, marchese,” the Comte de la Valle said, “does my surprise please you? The little slut struck you just as she did me. Will not revenge be sweet?”

Celestino, regaining his wits, yelled, “Are you mad, Gervaise? She is no peasant girl. Her father is Lord Delford.”

“Shut up, Tino,” Gervaise said pleasantly. “She is a gift for the marchese, not for any of you louts. Well, Pietro?”

Adam drew a deep steadying breath and forced his eyes away from Rayna’s terrified face. He said quietly, “Tino is right, Gervaise. The girl did rebuff the both of us, but we cannot use her for our pleasure. It would be madness.”

“Afraid, marchese?”

Adam smiled at the comte’s taunt. “It is true that I
have no wish to have my life cut short because of this insipid little virgin. It was you, after all, who explained the queen’s secret police to me. I doubt such an act would go unavenged. You are rather a fool for letting her see all of us.”

“Come, Pietro, I am no fool, and you, I trust, are not a coward. To take her, after all, would prove a great deal about you to us, would it not?”

“A test, Gervaise?” Adam said quietly, his brow arching upward.

“You are too harsh,
mon ami.
Let us say that you have not yet done anything that would tie you to us. Come, I know you want the girl, I’ve watched you look at her. And of course I want her too. But since she is your surprise, we will save her precious virginity for you.” His eyes roved to Rayna’s pale face, and he touched his fingertips to her cheek. She whipped her head back, a muffled cry sounding through her gag. He tightened his grip about her shoulders. “I will be interested to see what color her
aristo’
s blood is,” he said, enjoying the fear in her eyes.

You must think, dammit.
“How did you get her, Gervaise?” Adam hoped that he sounded bored and aloof, the role he had played with the comte since their first meeting.

“Yes, Gervaise,” Ugo said, “can we expect her outraged father at any minute?”

“Actually,” Gervaise said, grinning widely, “it was so easy that I wonder if the little fool is still a virgin. She was wandering about, quite alone and in her nightclothes in the garden. As if she were waiting for her lover. Is that true, little dove?” He caressed the
palm of his hand over her breast. “She trembles at the touch of a man. We will soon know.”

Adam felt such rage that for a moment he could not breathe. He smoothed his fisted hands and strolled over to the sideboard to pour himself another snifter of brandy. He turned slowly, took a sip of the rich amber liquid, and stifled a yawn.

“Be that as it may, comte,” he said, aware they were all watching him, “as I said, I have no wish to visit the hangman’s noose. She is a tidy morsel”—this said with a brief bored look at Rayna—“but she is not worth cutting my life short. I doubt any man here would disagree with me.”

Niccolo Canova said thoughtfully, “The fact that she is a lady and was wandering about in her father’s garden thus garbed leads to an interesting question.”

“Ah,” Gervaise said, “our sophist speaks.”

“You appear to have forgotten, marchese,” Niccolo continued, his eyes on Adam, “that the young lady has reason to keep her tongue behind her teeth. Indeed, I wonder if she would even tell her father. But think of the scandal. She would be utterly ruined. Do not doubt that such an
affaire
would follow her back to England.”

“Do not forget,” Gervaise said, “that we are not common
canailles,
but men of high rank, and not without influence of our own.”

“It is not the scandal I am thinking of, but what her father would do to us,” Tino exclaimed, dashing his handkerchief across his forehead. “We could doubtless deny all, even, if you wish, claim that she came willingly. But what would you do, Niccolo, if you were her father?”

“Such theatrics, Tino,” Gervaise said. “Niccolo is
quite right. She would be a fool to tell her father. And if she did”—his voice trailed off as he looked at her. You understand me well, little dove, do you not?”

“Her father is, after all, an Englishman,” Niccolo said, “with limited resources in Naples. What could he do if she told him? Send assassins? Hardly. He might even leave Naples in a rage, which would weaken England’s ties to us.”

“You astound me with your flawless logic, Niccolo,” Gervaise said. “Allow me also to point out, my friends, that despite all arguments, the deed is done. She is here. We can always discuss what to do with her later.”

There was no hope for it. Adam tossed down the rest of his brandy and threw the empty glass to Tino. “Very well, Gervaise. She is mine, you say?”

“You are the new member, my randy Sicilian.”

Adam bowed formally to all of them. “You may be certain that when I am through with her, she will say nothing to anyone. I will leave you now. I take my women in private and not in front of a lot of gaping fools.” He took a step toward the comte.

“You wish to deprive your friends of their evening entertainment? Oh no, marchese. The table will do just fine for the little
arista.
”

“I do not play stud for anyone’s entertainment.” Adam gazed about him, trying to judge the mood. He lowered his eyes and brushed an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. “She is for me, is she not, Gervaise?”

“Yes,” the comte said after a moment. “But I would be certain that the deed is, in fact, done.”

Adam shrugged. “Take her yourself, then. I am not interested.”

The comte frowned. His gift of the young English girl was not only a test, it was also his payment to the marchese for saving his life. “Very well, Pietro,” he said slowly. “You will not rut in front of us. But you will remain here.” He jerked his head toward the ceiling. “Take her upstairs.”

Adam felt a surge of relief.

“But first”—Gervaise jerked the cloak from her, closed his fingers over the laced neck of her nightgown, and ripped it apart.

Rayna yelled through the gag, struggling with all her strength. The comte held her painfully tight.

“Lovely,” he said, staring down at her breasts.

Adam could almost smell the lust in the other men as they stared at Rayna. He must act quickly. “Give her to me,” he said.

The comte swept Rayna into his arms and tossed her like a sack of potatoes to Adam. “She is yours.” Gervaise laughed. “Enjoy your sport.”

“We have always shared before,” Tino said.

Adam didn’t wait for Gervaise to change his mind. He pulled Rayna possessively against him and strode toward the stairs.

“The chit is in for a rutting.”

“She will know a man, not any of you clucking roosters,” Adam said over his shoulder. He was pleased at the shouts of laughter that followed in his wake.

Rayna began struggling against him. Adam bowed his head close to hers and whispered, “Stop it, for God’s sake. Hold still. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Instantly she quieted.

Adam took the stairs two at a time. The second floor
of the house was shadowy and dim, lit with but one branch of candles set on an old table in the hall. He remembered Celestino telling him that they occasionally brought women here for trysts. He saw a door partially open and strode toward it. He stepped into a small room that held but a wide bed and a commode with a basin on it. He kicked the door closed behind him and searched in vain for a lock.

Adam eased Rayna to her feet and quickly unfastened the gag over her mouth. She swallowed convulsively, her tongue swollen and dry in her mouth. He was staring down at her, his face taut and pale in the candlelight.

“What is this place? What are you doing here?”

“I cannot tell you,” he said as he untied her wrists. “But you must trust me, Rayna.”

“Trust you.” For a moment, her anger overcame her fear. “I was waiting for you, marchese, in the garden. Did you guess I would be there? Did you send the comte to get me?”

“Don’t be a fool.”

“He laughed at me, taunted me. He touched me.” She clutched her hands over her gaping nightgown.

Adam wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and comfort her, but there wasn’t time.

He clamped his hand over her mouth. “Listen to me, Rayna, for we haven’t much time. Remember you once told me that you trusted me?”

She looked at him, her eyes nearly black with fear.

“You must do exactly what I tell you. Do you understand?” He lifted his hand from her mouth.

“What are you going to do to me? Rape me?”

“We are going to pretend that I raped you. Dammit, Rayna, you must trust me.”

“I am so afraid,” she whispered.

“So am I. Will you do what I tell you?” As he spoke, he chafed her wrists.

“Pietro, why did the comte do this? What is he to you?”

He drew her against him and kissed her temple. “No one is going to touch you,
cara,
I promise.”

He prayed that his promise would not be his last, and pushed her away from him. “Now, you must do exactly what I tell you.” He nodded toward the bed. His nostrils flared at the smell of sex and old sweat. “Take off your clothes and get under the blanket.”

Rayna stared at him. “You want me to take off my clothes?”

He took her shoulders in his hands. “Listen, Rayna, you are here to be raped, by me. We must make them think that is what is happening. Now, do as I tell you.”

It was a nightmare, she thought as her fingers fumbled at her torn nightgown. She looked from the corner of her eye toward Pietro as he stripped off his clothes. She saw urgency in his movements, and quickly jerked off her gown.

Adam paid no attention to her. He heard the bed creak and the rustling of the bedclothes. He turned quickly, sat down on the edge of the bed, and pulled off his boots. He paused only a moment before standing to unbutton his breeches.

Rayna pulled the cover to her chin. For a moment she thought she was somehow outside of herself, watching a trembling girl and the man who soon would be as naked as she.

Her eyes met his for a moment, then fell to his naked chest. “No,” she whispered. “Please, Pietro.”

He paused, his fingers on the buttons of his breeches. “I am sorry, Rayna. I have no wish to shock you, but there is no choice.” He quickly turned his back to her and shrugged out of his breeches.

She stared at his body, lean and olive-tinted, so different from her own. His back and thighs were banded with muscle, his waist narrow, his buttocks smooth and sculptured as if by an artist’s hand.

“Stop enjoying the view,” he said.

She saw him draw a dagger. “What are you doing?”

Adam did not reply. He lifted his leg and sliced the dagger tip along the inside of his thigh. Blood welled up.

“What have you done?”

He still kept his back to her, not wanting to embarrass her. “Rayna,” he said over his shoulder, “virgins bleed. Since you will remain a virgin, I must bleed for you. Now, pull down the cover.”

She only stared at him, and he walked abruptly near to her and whisked the cover away from her. “Open your legs, quickly.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from her, and watched her thighs slowly part. He sat down beside her, wiped the blood from his thigh onto his finger, and smeared it over her. She jumped at the touch of his fingers.

“Hush,” he said. He daubed a bit of blood on the sheet beneath her hips. He turned his back to her and touched more blood to his swollen manhood. Rutting bastard, he thought, staring down at himself for a
moment. His head jerked up at the nearing sound of laughter and the clomping of boots.

“Rayna, scream, now.”

He uncoiled his body and lay beside her, taking her into his arms.

“Scream, dammit.”

She let out a high, wailing cry that reverberated off the walls of the small room.

“Again. Louder.”

She yelled so loud he thought his eardrums would shatter.

He heard Gervaise in the corridor and knew he would burst in at any moment. He heaved his body on top of her, clutched her face between his hands, and kissed her, brutally.

She began to struggle against him, pounding her fists against his back. Not an act now. That was what the comte saw when he jerked open the door and strode into the room.

Tino laughed behind him.

“Well, Pietro, was the little slut a virgin?”

Adam rolled off Rayna, rose slowly, and gave the men a victorious bow.

“
Dio,
he’s still hard for her.”

“I want to see for myself,” Gervaise said.

Adam tore back the cover, and pulled her legs apart.

“Ah, she bleeds red.”

Rayna was sobbing, her eyes closed tightly against the men who stared at her.

“Did you tear her?”