Page 5 of In a Rake's Embrace
Would the gambling den owner truly have her father killed? Surely ... surely, such a world of ruthlessness did not exist?
“One night,” Agatha gasped, recalling the man’s words from earlier. “He said I could earn it in one night. He said, given my beauty, it was possible.”
Madam Rebecca considered her for a long moment before responding. “Wait here. I’ll see what can be done.”
Agatha sank back into the chaise, her fingers gripping the fabric so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She fought to keep the panic at bay, closing her eyes and picturing the seaside from her childhood—the sound of the waves, the feel of the cool breeze—anything to take her mind away from this nightmare.
The door creaked open, and she stood quickly.
“You’re in luck,” Madam Rebecca said with a slight smile. “One of our more discerning and distinguished clients is here tonight. He’s tired and seeking something new. If you please him, you’ll see only him this evening.”
Relief flooded Agatha’s chest. One man. It was still abhorrent but far easier to endure than being passed from one to another.
The madam handed her a simple white gown made of fine silk that felt rich against her skin. Thankfully, it wasn’t overly revealing. Agatha quickly removed her worn boots and clothes, folding them neatly to the side. Madam Rebecca gathered them up and tossed them out the door without saying what she did with her clothes.
“Come with me,” the madam instructed.
Agatha took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and followed. She had no choice now but to step forward into this terrifying world, her heart heavy with hopelessness.
One year later…
Agatha satat the worn kitchen table, her head bowed as she stared at the small ledger. The numbers swam before her eyes, and a tight knot of worry coiled in her stomach. The money she had carefully budgeted over the past year was dwindling, and with the unexpected rent increase, the future looked bleak.
“How bad is it?” Gloria asked from across the table, her voice quiet but filled with concern. “I have never seen you look so down, Aga.”
She took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her tired eyes before responding. “With the rent increase ... we’ll only have a few coins left for food to last for a month, perhaps six weeks if we practice strict economy. There is not enough for firewood or new bedding for the winter. Sarah also needs new boots.”
The summer was already cold in the nights, and she could not imagine how they would fear for the upcoming winter.
“The larder is almost empty. We can buy a sack of potatoes, flour, and rice. Mrs. Pottinger says we can take more orangesand apples from her grove. There are not enough coins for meat, and we cannot risk taking quail from the squire’s land again. The risk of being charged for poaching is too great.”
Gloria sighed, her hands resting in her lap as she stared at the empty fireplace. “That’s ... not good, is it?”
“No,” Agatha said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart kicked painfully against her ribs.
It is terrifying.
A sudden shriek of laughter broke the tense silence. Agatha glanced out the small window, her gaze softening as she watched her younger siblings playing outside. Sarah and Maggie were running through the field, chasing after a kite, with little Carson trailing behind them, his face glowing with joy.
A small smile tugged at her lips. Despite their laughter, the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her shoulders.
They’re happy now, but how long can I keep this up?
The past year had been a difficult one. They had arrived in Devonshire with little more than hope due to the monies she had saved. Agatha had worked tirelessly to provide for her siblings. She had taken up sewing work as she had done back in their small seaside town, repairing and making garments for the local villagers. Gloria and Maggie helped, too, but it was never enough with six mouths to feed and rent to pay. Carson suffered a recent bout of illness, and the physician’s fee had been exorbitant.
Agatha had been careful, budgeting every penny, ensuring they had enough to survive. But with winter approaching, their situation was becoming more precarious. They had moved to a small cottage on the outskirts of the village, nestled against the moors. It was humble, but it had been their sanctuary for the past year. The idea of losing it, of being forced to uproot her family once again, filled her with dread.
Gloria reached across the table, gently covering Agatha’s hand with hers. “We’ll manage, somehow. We always do.”
Agatha nodded, though doubt gnawed at her. She had vowed to protect her siblings; to keep them safe from the horrors their father had nearly subjected them to, but now she wasn’t sure if she could continue to provide for them. While her sewing and perfumed sachets brought in some income, it was never enough to cover the growing costs.
I can’t fail them. I won’t.
Her thoughts drifted to the night she was taken toAphrodite.The gentleman Madam Rebecca had taken her to that fateful night was a duke. Agatha only learned of his identity when the coachman, at his command, escorted her back home. The duke had paid the madam in full, settling the debt her father owed, but in a surprising twist, he’d informed Agatha that he did not need her services.
Relief had washed over her so powerfully that tears had slipped down her cheeks. She had expected the worst that night, steeling herself for what she thought would be a soul-crushing experience, only to find unexpected kindness in a man who owed her nothing. The tears of relief had continued to fall during the long journey back home. She hadn’t seen the duke since that night and did not expect ever to encounter him again. Sometimes, when she lay awake at night, she thought of him. Why had he helped her leave? Why had he paid her father’s debt and sent her away without asking for anything in return? Why had he given her banknotes?
She didn’t even know his name. But she owed him more than she could ever repay.
