Page 4 of His Wicked Embrace
It was all too familiar. He realized he wasn’t recognizing the woman, but the feelings surrounding this travesty. The fear, the panic, his own impotence to do anything to stop it. He’d been too young then, too young and too late to save a woman who had needed someone’s help. Anyone’s help.Hishelp.
I won’t let it happenagain.
He stared at the woman on the stage, taking in her pale, stoic face as she listened to the sounds of men who would claim her. Her hands, clutching her skirts, shook ever so slightly. She had to be terrified yet was hiding it well. He couldn’t help but admire her. In that moment he made adecision.
I can’t leave her to these wolves.I won’t let the past repeatitself.
He had to act. His brother’s warnings to only watch and observe be damned. Lawrence glanced at the woman, forcing himself to hide his anxiety and become the relaxed scandalous rogue the rest of the world knew. He had to play the part convincingly, or else he risked losing her to anotherman.
Hold on, darling. I’ll saveyou.
Chapter Two
Lawrence didn’t want to participate in this dreadful slave auction. But if the lady went home with one of these men, they would force her to do things she didn’t want, and he couldn’t stand the thought ofthat.
When he’d been only seventeen, not yet truly a man, he’d ventured into a brothel much like this. He’d thought himself a virile and entitled lad, eager to see himself pleasured for as much as his coin purse would allow. His head had been filled with images of eager maids feeding him berries on a lounge, willingly submitting to his overtures, and everyone partaking in a night none would soonforget.
Instead, he’d watched women selling themselves to survive. It wasn’t hard to see the desperation in the performances of those who didn’t want to be there, or the emptiness of those who had given up and knew no other life. What was worse were the men who treated them no better thancattle.
That night he’d watched a woman, boldly announced by the haggard proprietor as working her very first night, dragged away by some brute who’d paid to be the first to have her. She’d begged him not to, saying that she was there against her will, but he’d struck her across the face before they’d even left the room. He’d heard the men around him laughing at her misfortune. He’d been frozen, unable to intervene, too young and afraid. It had haunted him every moment sincethen.
He’d run from that place, sickened by everything it stood for and he’d never told a soul about his secret shame. It wasn’t until he learned of the Midnight Garden and its courtesans that he discovered better establishments existed, but nonetheless the experience had soured his taste for paid companionshipforever.
“Two thousand pounds!” a man close to the stage called out. The bold offer shook Lawrence back to reality. He moved closer to better see the fellow. With dark hair, olive skin, and a deep accent, he was surely no native to England. The man stared at the woman with a hungry fixation, and Lawrence shuddered. The hint of cruelty that hung about his cold smile made Lawrence’s blood run cold, taking him back to that night in the brothel long ago. He could not let this man have her. He wouldnot.
Lawrence stepped forward and managed a chuckle. “Two thousand? Heavens, this beauty is worth more than that! Seventhousand!”
He pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against and walked over to stand closer to the stage, forcing several others out of his way. Lawrence had to make a statement to the rest of the room or else face a bidding war he might notwin.
A hush fell upon the crowd, but Lawrence focused only on the woman sitting on the stage. He had to be the one to take her home and set herfree.
“No one brave enough to bid higher, eh?” he said, as confidently as he could possibly present himself. Not one of them responded, not even a murmur. He could have dropped a feather and the sound would have reverberated around the room like cannonfire.
“Any other bids?” the auctioneer asked the room. “Seven thousand going once…” Lawrence hands curled into fists. “Goingtwice…”
The woman on the stage wasn’t breathing, her face etched in stone. She must be terrified.Hold on, darling. Just a few secondsmore.
The auctioneer’s face lit with greed as he pointed to Lawrence. “Soldto the gentleman bidder for seven thousand pounds. Once you have paid for your lady, you may take her withyou.”
The woman looked up, seeking him out, and Lawrence stepped closer, wishing she could see his face and not be afraid. The auctioneer grabbed her arm and dragged her off the stage. Lawrence saw her stumble, a flash of fear in those stunning eyes, and he reactedinstantly.
“Stop that!” he bellowed and gripped the woman’s other arm gently. He glowered at the auctioneer. “You harm her again and I will cut you down, you understand? I don’t want my propertydamaged.”
“Of course.” The auctioneer’s face turned ashen, and rightly so. Lawrence’s blood was boiling withfury.
He turned his attention to the woman to let his temper cool. “Are you all right, mydear?”
She squinted up at him, and he realized the bright lights hanging over the stage had likely made it hard for her tosee.
“Yes… I…” Her voice was silken, yet each word vibrated withfear.
“Good. Wait for me. I won’t be long. I promise not to let anyone hurtyou.”
He reluctantly let go of her arm and strode to the back of the room, where another door led to the madam’s office. A plump woman was seated at a desk, writing names and numbers in a ledger. She barely glanced at him when he entered. “I’ve come to pay for my”—he choked on the next word—“merchandise.”
“Oh?” The woman finally glanced up. Her dark eyes fixed on him, taking in his fine clothes as though assessing his ability topay.
“Yes, here’s a banknote.” He set out a hefty sum, knowing he was good for it. As the second son of a marquess, he had learned early on about the importance of investing. He had no desire to beg his older brother, Lucien, for money. Lucien would give him anything he asked for, but Lawrence had hispride.
