Page 69 of Only a Mistress Will Do

“We didn’t meet, true. But I never forget a face. Especially not a looker like you.” He licked his lips, sending a sudden chill down her back.

“But if we didn’t meet—”

“I saw you. With Trevor. At the House of Pleasure.”

All the spirit ran out of her, leaving a great hollow shell in which her racing heart echoed. But they’d seen no one there save Madame Vestry. She saw again the small dim office, the darkened foyer where…Damn. Tris had spoken to three masqueraders. She recalled Zeus and the scantily clad shepherd with the jeweled ring that had caught the candlelight.

“So you see, Miss Carlton, I hold you in thrall. If you so much as breathe a word of our encounter here I will make it known you were Trevor’s mistress, a common strumpet from a brothel. My father will be livid when he finds his future son-in-law has brought his lady-bird with him in the guise of a governess. He might even break the betrothal.” Harper sneered as he stalked around the table toward her.

Dear God, what must she do? Every instinct cried flee the brute and beg someone, Tris, Dora, even Lady Downing to save her from him. Her pulse beat a staccato rhythm in her ears and she tensed for flight as he closed on her, shaking his wounded hand.

If she sought help, however, Harper would expose her. Her reputation would be in ruins, never again able to pass for a decent woman. No one would ever receive her again—not even Tris’s considerable influence could mend that.

The vile fiend reached her, but she stood still. Submit and she might retain her position here and the pretense of respectability. Defy him and she could cost Tris his marriage to Dora and find herself fit only for Madame Vestry.

Violet raised her gaze to the smirking face as he grabbed her arms and pulled her to him. Steeling herself, she yielded to him when he crushed his lips against hers, bruising her mouth and cutting her lip on his teeth. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth once more.

He fisted one hand in her hair then thrust his tongue into her so far she almost gagged. His other hand fumbled at her bodice until finally he shoved it under the fabric and pulled her breast free. With brutal fingers he pinched her nipple, pulling and rolling it until tears started from her eyes.

She braced against the pain, but refused to cry out.

Harper dug her other breast out, squeezing that nipple so sharply she couldn’t stifle a moan. He chuckled. “I knew you’d like this. All sluts do.” He lowered his head and latched onto her left nipple, sucking on it hard while he squeezed the other one unmercifully.

Violet bit her lip to keep from crying out. The ache in her breasts soared, yet she must stand it and silently. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

Suddenly the pressure of his mouth decreased as he set his teeth against her tender nipple.

She gasped and clenched her jaw, dread of worse pain to come hurtling through her. In desperation, she grabbed his shoulders, digging her fingers into his wool coat as her breasts swelled against his harsh treatment.

“Miss Carlton! Miss Carlton!” Cries from Anna’s room pierced Violet’s numbed mind, snapping her back to sanity.

Harper raised his head, turning toward the sudden noise, freeing her breast.

With a great shove, she pushed him away, gasping in a breath that dispelled the cobwebby feeling of powerlessness. Stumbling back, she automatically pushed her breasts back into her bodice. Avoiding Harper’s red, leering face, she raced into the nursery to Anna’s bedside.

“There, there, now.” Calming her own fears, Violet eased onto the bed where the little girl sat up, shaking in terror. “Was it a bad dream? You’re awake now, lovey.” A fervent glance at the open door, but the fiend did not appear.

“Oh, Miss Carlton.” Anna threw her arms around her governess, her slight body trembling as she nodded.

“Well, you are safe now, my dear.” Trembling, Violet pulled the distraught child to her, taking as much as giving comfort. “What was the matter in your dream?”

“I was being chased by a big dog.” A stranglehold on her, Anna buried her head in Violet’s bosom.

“A very big dog?”

A nod, though she still hid her face.

“As big as Sadie?”

The child sat up, her petite brows fixed in a comical frown. “Sadie is a Yorkshire terrier. She is not big enough to frighten a flea.”

“Well, then, was it as big as Johnny?”

“Much bigger than him.” Anna leaned back on the pillows. “Of course, Johnny is a basset hound and old. He wouldn’t scare anyone.”

“Well, then, it must be as big as Duke.” Sensing an unwelcome presence outside the door, Violet rose.

“Oh, yes, indeed. It was just as big as Duke.”