For Love or Loyalty: The MacGregor Legacy | Book 1 (23 page)

“I do not know much about all that. All I know is ’tis less painful if you do what they want.” She shoved the tray toward Lauren. “Now eat. Three days is a long time to go without anything. I know . . . because they once put me through it.”

“But ye canna be more than fourteen.” Lauren’s stomach churned at the thought of what must have happened to her.

“To be exact, I am thirteen. I will not be fourteen for five more months.” She picked up a piece of bacon and held it out to Lauren. “What is your name?”

“Lauren Campbell, but Adelle said I shall be called Cinnamon.” She accepted the bacon and bit into the crisp meat. Lauren closed her eyes, savoring the taste. For now she would replenish her body and worry about their intentions later.

“My name is now Violet. What it was before no longer matters. I have tried to forget my former life, so I can better survive.”

“What has happened to ye is not right, nor what is now happening to me.” Lauren grabbed the fork and speared the eggs. “What about the clothes. Please? May I have some?”

“I shall see what I can do.” The girl bowed her head and stood to her feet. She reminded Lauren of Blair. A pang of longing pierced her heart.

Once the girl left the room, Lauren came to her senses and rushed to the door. She peered outside and recognized one of her brutal tormentors from the other day. He turned to stare at her, an evil grin upon his thin lips. Lauren slammed the door closed. There was no way past him, especially unclothed.

Lauren shuffled back to the bed and downed the glass of water Violet brought. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Picking up a piece of toast, she took a bite and closed her eyes. Never before had food tasted so good.

Lord, I canna believe it is Yer will for them to make a sinning prostitute of me. What would Ye have me do? Please, if I must die, let it be swift. I pray I am not tortured or starved to death.

Tears spilled onto her cheeks. Over the last three days she had cried often and prayed until her voice failed her from dehydration. Scriptures came to mind that she had forgotten. She hoped it meant God’s word was buried so deep inside her it had become part of her. Wouldn’t that be the only way for her not to give in to their demands, even at her weakest moment? She feared she wouldn’t be strong enough.

“God, give me strength,” she whispered into the empty room. “And
wisdom.”

Lauren couldn’t finish all the food on her plate, but she ate what she could. It seemed as if her stomach had shrunk. Even though she drank all the water, her throat still felt dry.

The door opened again. Violet returned carrying a beautiful satin gown of blue with lace trimming. “Madame said she noticed the blue in your eyes and thought this gown might do well for you until we can have you fitted for new garments of your own.”

She laid the dress out on the bed as well as the accompanying undergarments. “I hope it fits. Madame has an eye for detail so I am certain it will.”

Eager to cover herself, Lauren moved to her feet with renewed energy after eating. “Please, help me.”

The gown was cut much lower than Lauren would have preferred, but after three days of nothing, she could hardly complain. No doubt that was their intention. Once the new gown covered her, Lauren felt so much better. Their tactics were inhumane. Lauren turned to face Violet and sat on the bed. “Now what?”

“I am not sure.” She shrugged. “All I know is that like you, I am to be auctioned as a virgin to one of the highest bidders.”

“How long have ye been here?” Lauren asked, shocked by the child’s candid attitude toward everything.

“Almost a year. Madame Adelle likes to make sure us younger women have started our monthly courses and have been trained and prepared for what is to come.”

“Does that mean I have a year?” Hope soared inside Lauren but deflated as Violet shook her head.

“I do not think so. I heard Madame tell one of the bodyguards in the hallway that she wants you ready within the month.”

Lauren cringed. That didn’t give her much time to plan her escape. She would have to pretend to go along with their scam, to make them loosen her privileges. Once she earned their trust, she would make her move.

“Why did Adelle allow ye to bring food and a gown?” Lauren asked as Violet buttoned her up in the back.

“Sometimes the other girls can get jealous of each other and fight over the men who come here. I suppose she thought I would be less of a threat than the others.” She patted Lauren’s shoulder and stepped around to face her. Only a couple of inches shorter than Lauren, Violet was a beautiful girl but still so much a child. Lauren’s throat constricted. How could she leave Violet here when she made her escape? Although she didn’t realize it, Violet needed to be rescued as well.

“When will I be allowed out of this chamber?” Lauren asked.

“Madame Adelle will come in after I leave, and she shall begin your training. If she suspects any resistance in you, your confinement will last longer.” Violet grabbed Lauren’s hands. “Please . . . do not do anything to make them hurt you. I hope she will let you out. I like you and know we can be great friends. You are not like the others.”

Lauren gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hands in return. “Do not worry. I shall do my best.”

Lord, help me get through this without dishonoring You.

Each night Malcolm and Logan visited a new tavern and made inquiries about Lauren. Their efforts were in vain, and Malcolm had no more knowledge of where she had disappeared than the day he started looking. Desperation made him turn to prayer. He needed hope. Often, he remembered something Lauren had said or a scripture that gave him encouragement.

“Tomorrow we will start at the taverns on Chalmers Street,” Logan said as they walked down Meeting Street. “From what I understand many are beneath the bordellos located on the upper floors above them. ’Tis definitely not a part of town I would take my sister.”

The moon provided enough silvery light to walk by while sparkling stars scattered across the dark heavens. Fewer people were out this late at night. Those who did venture out were men who frequented the taverns.

Malcolm massaged the back of his aching neck. “I did not want to have to consider it, but it looks more like we shall have to check the less reputable places around Charles Towne. She could not have vanished like this without a trace.”

“Aye.” Logan shook his head and clucked his tongue. “There is somethin’ underhanded with the whole thing. The Mallard family must be involved somehow.”

“Ye think they could have sent her to a convent?” Malcolm asked.

“My friend, ye canna afford to be in denial any longer.” Logan touched his arm. “Why would they do that? They could not make any money off her, and the convent would expose them since she would have been dumped there against her will.” He shook his head. “Nay, I think a bordello is more likely. That way they could get payment for her, an’ no one would talk. They all have somethin’ to hide.”

“Ye’re right.” Malcolm fisted his hands at his sides. “I canna imagine Lauren in a place like that. She is a godly woman and does not belong there.”

“I doubt she had much of a choice.” Logan’s tone turned to one of disgust. He cleared his throat. “Will it change the way ye think ’bout ’er?”

“Of course not!” Malcolm snapped in irritation. His stomach churned, and he had to swallow several times to keep from casting up his counts.

“All right.” Logan raised up his palms and stepped over, allowing a wider gap between them. “I just wanted to ask because ye need to know where ye stand if we find her in such a place.”

Malcolm’s eyes burned and his ears rang. He could feel a headache coming upon him. “I will not abandon her, ever.” The conviction in his words helped strengthen his resolve. “Do ye have any other suggestions?”

“Nay, not unless they took her away from Charles Towne, but we canna begin to consider that if we have not checked every place here in town.”

“True.” Malcolm wrapped his arms around his unsettled stomach. “I never thought losing her would feel like this. I mean . . . I knew she might go back home to her father, but this . . . ”

Tears stung his eyes. He blinked, trying not to let his mind imagine what might be happening to her right now. His throat constricted, and the pain inside him stung and clawed at his insides. He had to keep it together. Could a bullet through his stomach feel any worse?

“I need to find Pastor Brad. Do ye know where he might have gone?” Malcolm asked. “To talk to him. He was so close to Lauren.”

“He is a pastor at a Presbyterian church north of Charles Towne. ’Tis too far to walk. Ye’ll need a horse.” Logan stopped walking. “Here is where I need to turn. Promise me ye will not do anything stupid.”

“It depends on what ye think is stupid.” Malcolm shrugged. “I will not be at work tomorrow. I canna sleep tonight. I have got to find her. I will not rest ’til I do.”

“Are ye going to Pastor Brad’s tonight?” Logan asked.

“I think I need a voice of reason right now. I am not thinking too clear, and I do not feel well. I want to break somethin’.” He slammed a fist into his palm.

“I have seen ye fight.” Logan stepped back. “The last thing ye need is to end up in jail. Ye will not be able to look for Lauren if that happens.” He sighed. “Mayhap Pastor Brad can help ye. I wish I knew what to say.” He lifted his empty hands. “I am sorry, my friend.”

“I appreciate all yer help,” Malcolm said.

“I canna afford to give up my job, but I will be happy to help ye again tomorrow night.”

“That sounds reasonable. I will be startin’ the search again in the morn. I canna wait ’til the evening. I hope ye understand.”

“I do.” Logan gulped and rubbed the back of his head. “If ’twas Deidra, I do not know what I would do.”

“Just be glad it is not. I feel like I am about to lose my mind.” Malcolm reached over and patted his friend’s shoulder. “See ye tomorrow.”

“Wait, I have one more thing to tell ye.” Logan gave him directions to Pastor Brad’s church. A few weeks ago, he had taken Kathleen and Deidra for a visit.

Malcolm couldn’t go home and face his mother in his brooding mood. She had been crying for the past three days, feeling guilty over Lauren’s disappearance. In her mind, none of this would have happened if Lauren hadn’t taken her place at Mallard Plantation. He walked to the livery and saddled his horse and set out north.

He traveled for half an hour before the image of a steeple matching Logan’s description came into view in the moonlight. He dismounted and banged on the door.

No one came. Malcolm would not give up. He continued knocking.
“Pastor Brad! Please, answer the door. ’Tis Malcolm MacGregor!”

Feet shuffled on the other side. Finally, the door swung open to reveal Pastor Brad in a white nightgown and cap. “Malcolm? Come in an’ tell me what is eatin’ at ye.”

“Lauren has been kidnapped an’ I need ye to give me a good reason not to do what I am tempted to do.”

Chapter 13

13

L
auren received permission to mingle with the other girls, but none of the visiting men were allowed to touch her. All they could do was admire her across the room and enjoy her piano playing. This arrangement suited Lauren quite well as she pretended to go along, learned their schedules and habits, and tried to figure out a way to escape.

Madame Adelle had her fitted for a couple of new gowns, specifically for the event where she would be auctioned. Lauren spent most of her time in training on how to please various men, to recognize mood swings and personality types and to divert anger in an attempt to prevent a beating.

To Lauren’s increasing despair, the opportunity to escape never presented itself. None of them had single rooms, and she was never alone. The second floor was one huge room where they all slept and did things that Lauren wished she had never witnessed. Why hadn’t God answered her prayers? Had He forgotten her? She feared her virginity would be forcibly taken before God delivered her to safety. If so, what would that mean for the rest of her life? To Malcolm?

Violet was forbidden to men as much as she. The one thing that unsettled Lauren was the fact the young lass had started flirting with young men, mimicking the actions of the older prostitutes around her. Lauren prayed for her and was mocked by the others for praying, but she didn’t care.

God was her only voice of reason in a place mad with the love for sin. She longed to be free but feared she could be tainted, never able to fully return to the life she once knew.

“Cinnamon!” a woman called across the tavern. “Play us a happy ditty.”

Lauren glanced at the only door of escape. One of the bodyguards stood nearby, with his legs spread and his arms crossed over his chest. She had already experienced the brunt of his fists in her stomach and sides enough to last her a lifetime. Her ribs weren’t healed, but it helped that Adelle now allowed her ribs to be bound tightly so she could at least walk and sit, providing she moved slowly.

Lauren turned and placed her hands on the keys as she tried to remember a familiar tune lively enough to please them. An arm draped across her shoulders, startling her. A man in his midtwenties leaned in her face. His breath smelled of strong whiskey. She turned away so he wouldn’t see her disgust.

“Ye are new, are ye not? What is yer name, gel?” With slurred words, he leaned too far to the right and swayed back.

“Lauren Campbell.”

“I thought they just called you Cinnamon?” He coughed and leaned closer.

“ ’Tis my new nickname.” Lauren hoped the explanation would satisfy her captors enough to prevent another beating.

“She is off limits.” The bodyguard slung the man’s arm away from her with so much force that he staggered into a nearby table. “Anyone interested in Cinnamon will need to be at the auction in a couple of weeks. Madame Adelle will post the details.”

Mumbled conversations followed as all eyes turned upon Lauren, ruining her hope of not being noticed. With burning cheeks, Lauren turned back to the piano and did her best to ignore the discussions about her.

Tuning out everyone else, Lauren pretended to be at home in Scotland and let her fingers fly across the keys. A new tune bellowed in the air, and soon, other things distracted them. It was how she preferred it. Otherwise, how was she to make her escape while in the midst of their attention?

The tavern was on the first floor as one large room with long trestle tables where patrons ate and drank well into the night. A few couples retired to the second level where she loathed to go. She wondered where she would find a place to sleep tonight. Most of them slept during the day, which proved to be the only time she could find a few hours of solace after surviving the late night parties.

Lauren glanced up at the ceiling as she played the piano. Mayhap God couldn’t hear her prayers in a place so full of sin. She once feared laboring in the fields under the sun, but this was much worse.

At first, she hoped Malcolm would find and rescue her. Now she felt too ashamed to be discovered here. If she couldn’t make her escape before the auction, she hoped her loved ones would forget about finding her and remember her as she was. Lauren didn’t want to become one of the dead in spirit, but if she lost her hope and faith, she would be nothing.

After a while, her sore ribs throbbed even more. She needed to move to another position. Ending her final song, Lauren stood and strode to Madame Adelle and bent herself to a humbling position. “Madame, my ribs hurt. May I go rest on the third floor?”

“I would have thought you spent enough time alone in that chamber.” She raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Indeed, which is why I asked to be let out. I enjoy being around people and playing the piano, but my ribs are paining me. I hope to rest them to be in my best shape before the auction.”

“I see.” She touched Lauren’s cheek. “Very well, you may retire for the evening.” She glanced up and snapped her fingers at the bodyguard to follow Lauren.

Stepping inside the chamber and shutting the door, Lauren breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes as she leaned against the door. Once her ribs healed, she could wait until early morning when they were all asleep and try to climb out the window using the bed sheets. She hoped they would be long enough from the upper floors. What other option did she have with a bodyguard stationed outside her door?

After his sister’s miscarriage, Rob convinced his father to allow him to return home alone. His mother refused to leave, and his father felt he belonged at their side. To help his cause, his father didn’t want the plantation to be without direction for too long.

Once he was certain that his sister would recover, Rob purchased a horse and departed. Riding horseback helped him make better time. He stayed at various inns along the way. When he finally arrived home, Rob was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. He dismounted as the stable lad came to meet him.

“I am sorry, Mastah. I did not know yous be returnin’ today.” Henry hurried to take the reins.

“No one knew.” Rob gripped his thin shoulder. “Take care of my weary horse. He deserves some extra oats for the length of road he carried me.”

“Yes, sir.” Henry nodded and led Rob’s horse away.

Rob strode across the yard as he glanced up at the overcast sky. It was early afternoon, but he had missed the midday meal. Birds chirped nearby as he crossed the threshold at the side door. His heels made a steady rhythm against the wood floor with each stride.

“Mastah Rob, is it you?” George, the butler, walked down the hall.

“Indeed, just returned and starving. Would you have the cook bring a meal to the dining room?” He stretched his arms and yawned.

“I shall tell her right away,” George said. “Glad to have you back home, sir.”

Rob gave him a brief nod as he continued to the dining room. It was quiet, barren, and dark. Very little light passed through the two long windows. Rob lit a couple of candles, which made the room better but still barren. With the exception of servants walking across the floor in other parts of the house, it was too quiet. A grandfather clock ticked in the foyer. Rob disliked being alone. Where was Lauren? He always enjoyed her company and conversation, and his disapproving parents weren’t here to interrupt them.

George returned. “Mastah, a warm meal will be served directly.”

“Thank you, George. Would you ask Lauren to attend me?”

Silence greeted him. George stared at the floor and coughed in obvious discomfort. “I am sorry, Mastah, but she is gone.”

“Gone?” Rob tensed. “What do you mean?”

“After you all left, Mr. Fairbanks took her away an’ none o’ us seen her since.”

“How long ago was this?” Rob demanded, standing to his feet. The chair scraped back against the floor.

“ ’Tis been a couple o’ weeks now.” George linked his hands in front of him but stood in place.

“Where is Fairbanks? In the house or out in the fields?”

“He is out, but I do not know at which field.”

“Have Henry saddle a fresh horse for me. My meal will have to wait.”

“I shall tell the cook after I speak to Henry.” George turned and disappeared into the hall.

Anger burst inside Rob as he tried to make sense of what he just learned. He always knew that Stanley Fairbanks took advantage of his position, but this went beyond the boundaries. Since when did he have a right to remove people from the estate? It was grounds for dismissal, and if Stan didn’t have a reasonable excuse, he would see to firing the man. Unlike his father, Rob had always thought the estate would benefit from a better overseer.

He rubbed his temples, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming confrontation. Rob took a deep breath and stomped from the dining room. He stormed down the hall and out the side door toward the stables. Henry met him with a fresh horse.

Without a word, Rob mounted and took off toward the small house where the Fairbanks family lived. Slaves and field servants stopped to greet him as he rode past. He nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t slow his pace.

Stan sat on the front porch, rocking in a wooden rocker. The sliding motion beat a smooth rhythm against the wood floor. A jug of whiskey sat at his feet. He smiled. “You back already? Are your parents back as well?”

Rob didn’t respond as he dismounted. The cocky grin on Stan’s unshaven jaw and the mischievous glint in his eyes infuriated Rob. How dare he act as if all was well? He secured his horse to a nearby tree, strode up the porch steps, reared back, and slammed his fist in Stan’s nose. His head snapped back against the rocker, and blood spattered down to his chin and dripped, soiling his white shirt. “That is for having the nerve to dismiss someone from this estate without permission. You had better tell me where you took Lauren or you will not like the consequences.”

“I do not have to tell you a thing.” Stan held his head back as he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand. “I was told to do it.”

“By whom?” Rob leaned forward, bracing his hand on the rocker’s arm. “ ’Tis in your best interest to tell me everything.” Rob lowered his tone as he glared at the man who had enjoyed carrying out so many beatings of others.

“Ask your father!” Stan pointed in the direction of the main house.

“He is not here. Right now I am in charge.” A cold sweat broke out on Rob’s back. He gulped at the betrayal. Pain pushed deep into his soul. Even though he had never agreed with the way his father ran the plantation, Rob himself had never known his cruelty. “Are you saying he is aware of what you did?”

“Of course. I do not take orders from anyone else.” Stan leaned to the side away from Rob. “I will not tell you where she is. I cannot risk your father’s ire.”

“He is not here, and you cannot afford to risk mine.” Rob grabbed his shirt and hauled Stan out of the rocker. “Now tell me where she is, or you can leave the plantation right now. Think about it. Do you want to be responsible for your family’s homelessness?”

“I only did what your father told me to do. He said to wait three days and get rid of her.” Stan stumbled back against the porch post. “He will not like what you are doing to us.”

“Tell me where she is, and you can keep your job.” Rob clenched his fists at his sides. Rage surged through him in waves. He took several steadying breaths. “What will it be?”

“If I do what your father wanted, then I have a chance at being rehired when he comes back.” He shook his head while holding his bloody nose. “You have been wanting to get rid of me.”

Rob shoved his fist into Stan’s stomach. Air gushed from him as he hunched over. “You have one hour to get out of here. Ten of my best field hands will escort you off the estate. After the way they have suffered under your cruelty, I am certain they will enjoy the privilege.” Rob shoved him toward the house. “Get packing. I shall find Lauren without your help.” Rob bounced down the steps and mounted his horse and rode away.

He selected ten men as promised, gave them instructions, and rode into Charles Towne. Rob pulled in front of the courthouse. Inside, he strode to the counter and cleared his throat. The clerk looked up from his recordings, pausing with a quill in his hand.