Blossom of the Brothel Ch. 02

Emmeline closed her eyes tightly as they rode, her thoughts drifting back to her hasty farewell from the Golden Mane.

Mr. Tucker seemed genuinely surprised that the man had grown quiet so fond of her in such a short time. His slightest suspicion, however, was easily redeemed by the weight of the pouch of gold she had earned him. That little thing obviously knew more about manipulating men already than she had led him to believe. He could have made a fair amount of money of her services, he was sure, but he could easily find less rebellious ones that would be more than willing to accommodate his needs without the convincing of the cane. Breaking them in could be quite satisfying but too much of a bother on the long run he decided, shaking the girl's new master's hand to seal their deal.

"She is a devil, Sir, I tell ye. I have known it all along. Beware of the witch that hides behind the innocence of her youth," the widow Carmichael's words of goodbye still gave her chills.

No one shed a tear for the servant girl leaving the brothel in bloom behind, yet Emmeline's heart still ached with a sense of loss. She mourned for the memories of her childhood she was leaving behind, the vegetable garden that would surely go to waste without her care, the smells of the kitchen that never failed to bring back the image of her mother, standing by the fire, stirring a pot and smiling at her with that gentle, special smile of hers.

She remembered the pain in Valentine's eyes as she lay in bed, weakened by fever, her lips pale a shivering with her every breath. The sadness in her gaze was overwhelming, the reflection of an unhappy and troublesome life. Emmeline knew her mother had never found true happiness in this world, no matter how focused her hopes and love had been on her little girl. She understood that she had always done what she considered to be in her daughter's best interest, fighting and hoping for Emmeline to lead a life she was not granted to have. Would she have approved of her choice, she wondered once again.

Lord Remington's heir. She still couldn't quite believe that a man of such standing had taken interest in her. Was he truly who he claimed to be?

Rumors she had picked up about the lonesome inhabitant of the mansion atop the hills came rushing back to her. Sneaking a glance at his profile she couldn't help but wonder. Was this the man who drank the blood of the living? The master of forbidden desires and sinful indulgence? Could he be befallen by an illness of the mind as the women used to whisper during washing at the riverside?

Some of his words and reactions were certainly strange enough, Emmeline pondered thoughtfully. From what she had seen of him thus far, he certainly seemed a passionate man, headstrong and demanding. Yet he had shown her gentleness and even kindness. Would he be capable of such if he had truly sold his soul to the devil as the old crow Carmichael claimed to know?

Shaking the questions and memories from her head and she snuggled closer to her master, letting go of the doubts for a little while. Whatever the future and Sir Duncan had in store for her, it could hardly be worse than the life of humiliating degradation she was leaving behind.

***

Sleep wouldn't come to Mrs. Hinsdale that night, her mind still wary with the angry shouts of Lord Remington's visit. Since the young Lord had been banned from the court she barely found peace at night and got used to the routine of closing her eyes for a little wink whenever the opportunity presented, yet sleep was reluctant to come to her that night.

Duncan had a habit of riding out at in the darkness, when prying eyes couldn't see and report him to his father for breaking the rules of his house arrest. She ought not worry, she told herself, but still ... it had been a long time since Mrs. Hinsdale had seen him so furious.

His father visited Remington Hall rarely these days, always busy with the affairs of the country, his heart wary with the disappointment his son had become. The young Lord rarely seemed affected anymore buy his father's speeches of responsibility and duty and even Lord Remington seemed to have given up mostly on reforming the astray mind of his son. They had never been particularly close of course but the distance between the two proud men only seemed to grow as the years passed by.

Mrs. Hinsdale was torn from her brooding by her master's arrival with a frightened young woman in tow. A quick glance at her faded gown and unruly hair confirmed the housekeeper's worst suspicions, her heart going out to the girl who would soon have to endure the fury of Duncan's heart stirred by the old Lord's visit.

Emmeline barely dared to glance at the elderly woman, her dress neat and clean, she didn't carry herself like a lowly servant but rather with the grace of a valued confidant. She waited at the entrance of the hall as she had been told, marveling at the rich burgundy coating the walls, the heavy dark drapes casting mysterious shadows upon the life-sized portrays. Aware of the spell of history around her, she cast her eyes down in mute respect, never hearing the instruction quietly whispered by the master to the lady at the far end of the hall.

"But My Lord! That would be ... a scandal unheard of!" the old woman's surprised shriek caught her attention.

His smile reminded the housekeeper of the mischievous little boy he once had been, so many years ago. His eyes, however, bore the unyielding determination of a master who wouldn't be denied.

There had been so many pranks, so many games of manipulation and carnal pleasures ... would the boy never be sated?

She bowed her head in surrender to his wishes and soon disappeared to carry out her master's orders. Part of her doubted if he indeed knew what he was doing but on the other hand, she had already experienced scandals beyond what she thought previously possible during her many years in the service of Lord Remington and his family.

***

Shame clung to her cheeks as her master lifted her chin.

"The arrangements will not take long now, you will be mine before sunrise" he promised, smiling at her with obvious satisfaction. "All you have to remember is that I am your master now, there is no going back, Emmeline. Just do as you are told and everything will be fine."

She was surprised by the gentle kiss upon her forehead, his lips lingering for a long moment.

After the ride, after having had her body molded against his back, invitingly soft and warm, he had to make it a point to avoid touching her. The urge to take her, right against the wall of the stable, had been overwhelming as he lifted her carefully off his horse, his fingers tightening around her slim waist and sliding down to her flaring hips. What it was about her that had him so intoxicated with lust, he didn't know. Perhaps it had been too long ... the struggles of a whirling body under his own he knew only to well, yet the feel of a surrendering lover, the gentle touch of affection he had been deprived of for a long time.

The old lady cleared her throat embarrassed to get her master's attention upon entering the hall again, her knowing eyes catching the hint of annoyance even in his carefully schooled features.

"Everything is ready, My Lord," she reported with a dutiful courtesy.

"Well then, lets not keep Father O'Leary waiting," he declared placing Emmeline's hand upon his arm.

***

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