Mail Order Bride for Two [Badlands 1] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (10 page)

Logan’s sudden laugher rang out down the street and put a smile on her face. “Now what were we talking about before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“You were trying to convince me to buy something frivolous.”

“Was I? Have I bent you to my will yet?”

“Perhaps.”

Logan opened the door and a bell sounded above her head. He held the door for her to enter and promptly followed her closely as they went inside. The scents of seemingly a hundred different things vied for attention as she inhaled her first breath inside. Stores like this were plentiful in New York, but she’d never had the funds to buy anything. Window shopping was all she’d ever been able to afford.

She wandered slowly past a table filled with bolts of various colorful cloths that had caught her initial attention. The wall on her right was filled with shelves upon shelves of teapots, glasses, china cups and a variety of other things to make hearth and home more comfortable. To the left were tools, and ready made clothing, some wooden painted toys for small children and large oak barrels filled with hidden treasures.

“Can I help you, folks?”

Clarissa looked up in surprise at the proprietor of the shop she’d not initially seen upon entering. She took a half-step backwards as if he might read her mind and suspect she hadn’t a single coin on her person with which to buy even a penny-a-bag treat.

A man stood behind a waist high wooden counter sporting several glass jars filled with licorice, lemon and assorted other candies. He was younger than she would have suspected for being the owner of a shop such as this. A ready smile lit up his features and put her at ease. His light brown hair was burnished with blond strands as if he spent a good time outdoors and not shut away in this store from dawn until dusk.

“Hi, Joe,” Logan called out. He lifted his hand in greeting and soon pointed to her. “This is my wife, Clarissa.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Clarissa, this is Joe Stanton, an old friend and part owner of this store along with his brother Frank.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Granger. Logan and I go way back. He’s ornery on occasion, but you won’t find a better horse trainer this side of the Mississippi.”

Clarissa had never needed a horse trainer, but smiled and nodded and tucked away the new information on her husband for later. “Thank you, Mr. Stanton. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Call me, Joe. Everyone does.” He stepped from behind the counter and approached. “Derek is in back loading up your wagon. He asked me to send you out as soon as you arrived.”

“Thanks, Joe. Do me a favor and keep an eye on my wife, will you? And if you can talk her into buying something just put it on our tab.”

“Sure thing.”

Behind them the bell above the door jingled again and a couple came inside. Joe approached them and the three spoke in low tones about feed or something.

Logan leaned in and kissed her mouth. “Will you be okay in here? Should only take us half an hour to load up everything.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

The light cheery bell to the door sounded again and three ladies entered, heading straight for the table with the bolts of cloth. Clarissa drifted to the back of the suddenly very lively store, passing not one but three tables piled with different types of cloth.

The busy little bell above the door pealed once again as she studied the rest of the store’s contents, searching for flower seeds. To her left and behind a tall shelf hiding the front of the store, she found a row of shelves housing some books and stationery, pens and ink for writing and other items found in desks.

Clarissa picked up a dime novel western and scanned the first page. Books were another luxury she’s never been able to afford. Her mother had taught her to read at a very young age, but the only books she’d ever been around were the ones in the library where she’d worked as a maid’s helper.

Upon reflection, spending time alone in the library like a new born hungry pup ready to read any book had led to her ruin.
 
Choosing the library versus the parlor to clean one dreary day had gotten her fired when, Bernard Pearson, the eldest son of the family she worked for came home unexpectedly on holiday from college and promptly ruined her life in a single afternoon.

Suck my cock until I come and swallow every drop, you whore…

Chapter 11

The ugly phrase she’d almost forgotten traipsed across her mind with vivid clarity. The scene from only a few months ago, which changed her life forever played out in her head as she stared unseeing at the book in her hand. And in truth it could have been worse. Amy, the maid she trained with for over a year, had suffered far worse a fate when the two young men came strolling into the room that fateful day.

Spring was only a promising hint in the chilly air when, Bernard, arrived home with his equally rich and spoiled friend, Andrew, in tow.

Loud bragging all the way down the family home’s central hallway heralded their arrival into the library. Amy apparently, understood what might happen and thrust Clarissa out of sight in a closet with a view. She peeked out of the keyhole in time to see Andrew unzip his pants and demand she “suck his cock” and “swallow what he gave her.”

Amy had resisted at first, but then Bernard had shoved her to her knees to aid his reprehensible friend. Still in the closet, Clarissa witnessed oral sex for the first time.

Poor Amy hadn’t spent long on her knees long before Andrew grabbed her hair and pulled her off his still stiff cock. Without saying anything, he dragged her up to her feet and promptly pushed Amy over the back of the library’s leather sofa. He flipped her skirts up and pushed himself against her over and over.

From the closet, Clarissa witnessed her first ever demonstration of the sex act. When Bernard had opened his trousers and his pink stiff rod protruded from the front of him, Clarissa had gotten her first look at the male sexual organ first hand.

When he’d thrust his cock toward Amy’s mouth from the opposite side of the sofa, Clarissa had fallen against the door in shock and it popped open, revealing her hiding place.

“What are you doing there? Spying on us?”

Hard cock bobbing in his open pants all the way across the room, Bernard grabbed her from the floor and dragged her to the sofa.

“On your knees, whore!” The brandy from his breath would set the room on fire if a single match were lit. Waves of stench poured off of him as if he’d been on a three day drunk and only had arrived to cause trouble.

Amy spoke up quickly as if there weren’t a man pounding his cock into her pussy against a sofa. “No. Wait. She’s an innocent. Please, Mr. Bernard. Come over here and I’ll see to you.”

Clarissa was thrust to her knees already by a drunken, angry Bernard. Her words either didn’t register or he ignored Amy’s plea.

“Suck my cock until I come and swallow every drop, you whore, or so help me god, I’ll make you sorry.”

He grabbed his cock and thrust it at her face. Before Clarissa had been forced to take his dick into her mouth, the double doors to the library had burst open with a forceful bang.

And that was how Bernard’s very prim and prudish mother found the four of them so engaged seconds later when she ushered her three society friends into the library for tea.

Clarissa remembered the rush of relief that had washed down her shaking limbs at being saved from violation by the lady of the house at the last possible moment.

Margaret Pearson was a force to be reckoned with in the upper crust of New York’s stalwart society. No slander had ever been attached to her name, at least not until this unfortunate incident.

If witnesses hadn’t been present in the form of the committee members of the ladies league and rule number one of their by-laws had stated members must be imbued with the most sacrosanct of pious behavior, Mrs. Pearson might have been saved the humiliation.

Unfortunately, she was not saved.

Amy was dismissed before she lifted from the sofa or got her knickers back in place. Andrew fastened his trousers and exited without a word, leaving Bernard to face his furious mother alone.

Clarissa had stood on wobbly legs, turned to face Mrs. Pearson with heartfelt gratitude ready to spill from her lips. Before she could utter a word, Mrs. Pearson lifted her arm pointed one bony finger in accusation and said, “Get out of my house this instant!”

“But I didn’t do anything, ma’am. Honestly, I didn’t.”

Her eyes widened as if further incensed that Clarissa would dare speak. Her back snapped straighter before she repeated her command. “You lured my son with your promiscuous slatternly ways. Now get out of my house. And don’t expect any references. If I have anything to say, you’ll not work in the state of New York for the rest of your days.”

Clarissa had run for her very life out of the house she’d been a part of for five years—four as the cook’s scullery maid and one as the maid’s helper. All her hard work for so many years and all for naught.

And the persecution hadn’t ended there. Mrs. Pearson’s threat to see she never worked again was proven in the form of Clarissa being shunned from any and every lowly house job she applied for in the area.

A week later, she ate the last of her food stores in the form of a bruised mushy apple. She then left her room early to avoid the landlady looking for tomorrow’s rent early.

Consoling herself with the fact that her purpose in leaving her room was two-fold, she ducked out the back door without being seen. A note had come the day before in the form of a request to meet from Amy. They met at a quiet café where Amy’s sister worked to discuss what had happened.

Clarissa complained, “I can’t find a position anywhere, Amy. Can you help me?”

“You must get out of the city, Clarissa,” she’d warned. “The elder Mr. Pearson was in a fierce rage over what happened in the parlor and cut off Bernard without a cent.”

“But Mrs. Pearson let us go and didn’t punish him for what he did.”

Amy shook her head sadly. “He didn’t get punished for what he did, Clarissa. He got punished for getting caught by the friends of his society mother. They are all ruined in society’s eyes. I don’t feel a single bit sorry for them and their imagined plight, but that’s the way things work in this world. The important thing is that Bernard blames
you
for his harsh discipline.”

“Well, it was his own fault. Not mine.”

“Be that as it may, you won’t win this battle. You need to leave town.”

“How? I haven’t a coin to my name. My rent is due tomorrow and with no prospects for work, I can’t pay so I’ll be out of my room. Where can I go?”

“Have you ever thought of being a mail order bride?” She handed Clarissa a notice with an address and her best wishes.

Later that day she’d met Mr. Coggon and become Clyde’s mail order bride. He’d given her a train ticket and a modest amount of money for necessities on the trip.

If Bernard found out the name of her intended, it wouldn’t do him any good. Her connection and long travel to the end of the earth yielded her the perfect life hidden away from anyone in New York.

Once she left this town, and moved to Logan and Derek’s ranch, she might finally feel safe enough from whatever reach Bernard Pearson might have. She was almost free.

A customer came round the corner where Clarissa stood alone thinking thoughts better left in the past. Shaken from her frightful reverie, Clarissa caught sight of the book she held and pushed out a breath of relief.

If not a jewelry box, perhaps Logan wouldn’t mind her buying a book to read. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the customer was closing in on her.

“You ungrateful bitch!”

Clarissa froze and turned to the hateful female stranger now cornering her in the small space. She had hair black as coal and a cold sneer plastered on her red rouged homely face.