Page 51 of Madcap with a Marquess
“Where you runnin’ too, darlin’?” the man growled out, not even fazed in the least that she had run full bore into him.
Franny’s eyes flew wide. The dealer. Footsteps beat against the ground behind her, and her eyes slid shut.
Trapped.
Her heart went awry, scrabbling against her ribcage, attempting the escape she had been denied.
“Good call on covering the exit, Arnie,” one of the men behind her said.
She hurried to rise, but a hand fisted in her hair, jerking her head back, and she grunted. She stared into the eyes of Lionel, the color of his eyes and his features indistinguishable in the dark. His teeth flashed in the moonlight, mirroring the glint of his pale blond hair.
“Since she’s already on her knees, gents, I say we take advantage.”
“Oh, I like that idea, Lionel.” The sound of hands rubbing together came from behind her. “Can I go first?” Bert asked eagerly.
The hand in her hair tightened.Oh, dear Lord. Oh, dear Lord.Acid burned down her throat, filling her insides.
“Considerin’ I am the one who took a knee to the groin, I thinkIwill be the one goin’ first.” He tilted her head back farther, leaning closer to her. “Think my prick deserves some special treatment, consolation.”
“I never get to go first,” Bert grumbled, stepping up to her side.
Her eyes darted wildly between the three men, her pulse thundering just as wildly. How did she get out of this? How did she escape?
“You secure her arms, Arnie, and you hold her tight by her hair, Bert.”
She thrashed, she struggled, but it was fruitless. In a matter of seconds, the men took hold of her, rendering her immobile.
Trapped.
“Let me go. Please,” she begged. “You don’t understand who I am. I can…I can pay you! Any amount you wish. If you just let me go.”
Bert snorted. “Wasn’ she just sayin’ inside the tavern she couldn’t even afford a shilling?”
“Right’o, Bert,” Lionel said as he stepped in front of Franny. “Think it’s time for me to take that lying mouth o’ hers to task.”
The men chuckled, and Lionel started unbuttoning the placket of his breeches.
Oh my God.Her heart was doing a hell of a job trying to beat right out of her chest. Her breaths came short and choppy as panic seized her lungs and refused to let her take a full breath.Oh, please God, let me escape this. I promise I will never do another rash thing in my life. I’ll…I’ll talk things out! Talk first, act second. I will be the most biddable of wives to Rupert.Mostly biddable. As biddable as I can muster, I swear.
Dear Lord—Rupert. Did he even know she’d left? Would he even care? Tears streamed down her face. Which infuriated her. Her panic morphed into a rabid rage. Rupert would probably think she was about to get what she deserved. It was what one expected from someone who behaved as she did.
She bared her teeth and growled low in her throat. If they thought she’d sit here pliantly and not fight back, they were in for a surprise. She growled again.
Lionel laughed, the sound grating, making her ears itchy. “This one has some spirit, she does. I like a wench with spirit.”
The man’s placket hung open, and he reached inside. Then exposed himself before her. She went rigid, her insides sloshing violently. She had never been more grateful for the darkness of night.
Franny pressed her lips firmly together, her teeth clenched so tight her jaw ached. She just wouldn’t open her mouth. And if somehow that didn’t work. Well. She would bite him. She glared hard up at the man in front of her, which only made him grin wider, nothing more than a shadowed face with gleaming teeth, stroking himself lewdly in front of her.
“Now darlin’, are you goin’ to be a good wench for me? I don’t have to worry ‘bout you using them teeth of yours, now do I? Perhaps we need a little assurance. To be safe. Bert, I think a knife to her back would be wise.”
A knife wouldn’t stop her, though. The thing about having no hope left? Nowhere left to turn? One didn’t care about the consequences. She’d bite off the man’s cock, even if it meant a knife in her back.
“I would advise you to reconsider whether that is a wise decision,” a man cautioned, low, unyielding. Ominous.
Her blood crystallized in her veins at the threat in that voice, could feel the blade of it trail over her skin. Slowly, eyes sliding first, head following, Franny turned until her gaze settled on the obscure figure masked by the night.
Tall, towering, treacherous.
