“I’d rather hear the bone snap,” Tristan said. Something deadly blazed in his eyes.
“Please,” Felicity whispered. She couldn’t bear the tension and fear that swallowed her. The heaviness of violence now surrounded them. Her heart drummed so hard it might stop.
“I’ll have your job, Chase.”
“Thisismy job, Trent.”
Murmurs filled the room. “Her dog has teeth,” someone said.
Bile rose in her throat, and Felicity swallowed. Tristan’s gaze moved from his prey to her, the darkness softening. The edge of violence in the air lessened.
“Lady Luck is a special guest of Mrs. Dove-Lyon,” Tristan said to the room at large. “She is not employed here. You’ll treat her with the utmost respect because she is not here to please your appetites. She’s here to judge your worthiness. Most of you will be found wanting.” He let go of the blond man, and he fell to his knees, glaring up at Tristan.
“I’ll escort you back to the ladies’ area, if you wish,” Sir Elliot offered.
“I already have an escort. Thank you, Sir Elliot.” Felicity said. Tristan offered his hand, and she took it. The steely strength that infused his body steadied her as she stepped around Trent, whoever he was, and Tristan set her hand on his arm.
“Goodnight, gentlemen,” she said as they reached the stairs.
A chorus of goodnights followed her as the floor resumed its activity. The gentleman who accosted her received a fair bit of taunting.
“Are you all right?” Tristan said quietly as they climbed the stairs.
Felicity blushed in embarrassment.
“No.”
He nodded.
She wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, but suddenly they were in a dark hall, the noise snuffed out by the walls. She leaned back against the wall, and he did the same across her.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is the hall that leads to the kitchens from the servants’ quarters. It’s usually quiet this time of night while everyone is busy at work.
Felicity sucked in a relieved breath. “What must they be thinking of me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can it not matter? He assumed he could buy the use of my body,” she whispered.
“He is mistaken.”
Felicity wiped at the scalding tears on her cheeks. “Is he?”
In the shadows, she couldn’t read his face.
“You are not a courtesan, Flick, I know it, whatever your past has been. I also know you come from a small village, and you are hiding from something and someone who hurt you. But that is all I know. Mrs. Dove-Lyon revealed nothing else. I might be able to help you more if you could tell me why you’re in hiding.”
Felicity shook her head. “I can’t.”
“I would never judge you.”
“Ijudge me. Just thinking about—” Felicity covered her face as shame, which she knew logically she shouldn’t feel, overcame her. If this had happened to another girl, despite what her religious upbringing led her to believe, she would never treat a woman the way her parents had treated her or how society would treat her if they ever knew. No woman would encourage or desire the things Chadwick had done to her. She wished she had been stronger and fought harder. Had she given him some sort of signal without knowing? She questioned herself, her own mind, her thoughts, and her actions so much she didn’t know what to believe.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“I understand,” Tristan said. They were quiet for a moment. Distantly she could hear the clamor of the gaming floor, but for right now they were far away, and she could finally draw a full breath.
