Redeeming Love (56 page)

Full of pity, she smiled at the young girl. “What’s your name?”

“Cherry,” the girl said, dumping Angel’s gingham dress and underthings beside the door.

“I’d like to have those things back once they’re washed.”

“Duke said to throw them away.”

“And one must always obey Duke.” She didn’t want to get the girl in trouble. “Did he bring you to California with him?”

“Me and three other girls,” she said as she tested the water. “It’s not too hot. You can bathe now.”

Angel removed her worn underclothing. Lowering herself into the warm water, she sighed. Whatever happened, she would be clean when it came.

On the outside, at least. “How long have you been here?”

“Eight months,” the girl answered.

Angel frowned. She had been living within blocks of Duke all this time 392

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and never knew it. Maybe it was fate that she be with him.

“You’re very beautiful,” Cherry said.

Angel looked at the girl bleakly. “So are you.” Such a pale, pretty girl with frightened blue eyes. She was filled with compassion.

“Would you like me to wash your hair for you?” Cherry said.

“What I would like is to find a way out of here.” Cherry froze in surprise, and Angel smiled in self-mockery. “But then, that’s impossible, isn’t it?” She took the sponge and bar of lavender-scented soap from the girl and said nothing more.

Duke came in without knocking. Cherry jumped, her face paling. Angel put her hand on the girl’s and felt how cold she was. Several satin gowns were draped over Duke’s arm, and he laid them with great ceremony on the end of the bed. “Leave us, Cherry.” The girl scurried out of the room.

Angry, Angel steeled all her defenses and continued with her bath as though he weren’t there. He was staring at her. Uncomfortable beneath that dark scrutiny, she rose and wrapped a large towel around herself. He handed her another smaller one for her hair. She wrapped it about her head like a turban. He held a blue satin dressing gown open for her.

Donning it, she tied it snugly. He put his hand on her shoulder, turning her toward him.

“You’re no longer my little Angel, are you?”

“I couldn’t stay a child forever,” she said, chilled by his touch.

“A pity.” He held a chair out for her. Breathing slowly, she forced herself to remain calm as she sat.

“You must be famished,” he said and pulled the bell cord. The Chinese servant entered with a tray. As soon as it was placed on the table before her, Duke waved him out. Removing the silver covers himself, he smiled. “All your favorites, my dear.”

It was a feast: a thick rare beefsteak, creamed potatoes, and mixed vegetables dripping with butter. There was even a thick slice of chocolate cake.

She hadn’t eaten a meal like this since leaving the New York brothel. Her mouth watered, and her stomach tightened.

Duke lifted a silver pitcher, filled a crystal glass with milk, and handed it to her. “You always did prefer it to champagne, didn’t you?”

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She took the glass from him. “Fattening the calf before you slaughter it, Duke?”

“The
golden
calf? Now, wouldn’t I be a fool to do so?”

She hadn’t eaten since before the fire, stubbornly refusing the charity offered by that priest. Eat his soup, and he would expect her to confess her soul before he told her it was beyond redemption. So she was starving now.

“I’ll join you later,” Duke said, surprising her again. She had expected him to stay. As soon as he was out the door, she tucked into the sumptuous meal. She hadn’t tasted food this good in three years. Duke had always set a good table. She poured herself a second glass of milk.

Only when her stomach was full did she realize what she had done and shame filled her.

Oh, Michael, I’m weak. I’m so weak! I was right to leave you. Look at me!

Stuffing myself on Duke’s food. I’m selling my soul for a steak and a slice of chocolate cake when I swore I’d starve before I went back to my old ways. I don’t know
how to be good! I could only manage it when I was with you.

“You look distraught, my dear. What is it? Something you ate?” Duke’s voice startled her. She hadn’t even heard him come back into the room. “Or are you worried what my punishment will be?”

She pushed the empty plate away, her face flaming with humiliation, sick at what she had done. “I don’t care what you do,” she said in a flat voice. She got up and turned her back on him. Pushing the lace curtains back from the window, she looked down at the busy city street.
What’s happened to all the fine
moral strength I possessed while I was with you, Michael? It’s gone again. I’m right
back to being Angel. All in the space of a few short hours and one tray of supper!

She closed her eyes.
God, if you are there, strike me dead. Kill me so I won’t
give in completely. I haven’t the strength to fight this devil. I haven’t any strength at
all.

“I worried about you,” Duke said in a cajoling tone. She felt his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs kneading her tight muscles. “I’ve only your best interest at heart.”

“Just as always,” she said dryly.

“Did you ever have to deal with the lower classes, my dear? You only had the best. How many sixteen-year-old girls have had a senator and supreme 394

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court justice visiting them on a regular basis? Or a shipping magnate?

Charles was quite devastated when you disappeared. He hired his own con-tacts to search for you. It was he who told me you were on a ship to California.”

“Good old Charles,” she said, remembering the spoiled young man.

Shrugging Duke’s hands off of her, she faced him. “What if I’d told you I wanted out?”

His mouth lifted slightly. “Tell me about this man Hosea.”

Her muscles tensed. “Why do you want to know about him?”

“Just curious, my dear.”

Maybe talking of Michael would give her the strength to resist whatever came. “He’s a farmer.”

“A farmer?” Duke said, surprised and amused again. “And did you learn to plow, Angel? Can you milk a cow and sew a fine seam? Did you enjoy having dirt under your fingernails?” He took her hand, turning it palm up.

She remained passive. “Calluses,” he said in disgust and let her go.

“Yes, calluses,” she said proudly. “Even covered with dirt and sweat, I was cleaner with him than I’ve ever been with you.”

He slapped her, and she reeled back. Straightening, she saw something in his face that made her less afraid. She wasn’t sure what it was, but he didn’t look so in command of himself or the situation.

“Tell me all, my dear.”

She did.

“Did you love him?”

“I still love him. I’ll always love him. He’s the only good thing that’s ever happened to me in my life, and I’ll cling to that until I die.”

His face darkened. “Are you in a hurry for that to happen?”

“Do what you will, Duke. Do what you please. Haven’t you always?” She turned away from him again, half-expecting him to swing her around and hit her, but he didn’t. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him curiously.

“So where is this paragon of virtue and manhood now?” Duke asked.

“On his farm.” Perhaps he had turned to Miriam by now.

“You left him.”

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“Yes. I left him.”

He smiled, satisfied. “Bored?”

“No. One of Michael’s dreams was to have children, and as we both know, I can’t have them.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice, nor did she try.

“So you haven’t forgiven me for that yet?”

“I told Michael I couldn’t have children and why. He said it made no difference to him.”

“No?”

“No, but it made a difference to me. I wanted him to have all he deserved and wanted.”

Duke’s face hardened more with each word she spoke. She ignored the warning. She was thinking only of Michael. “It wasn’t the first time I left him. I married him when I couldn’t do anything else, and I left the first chance I got. I wanted no part of him. I wanted to go back and get the money that was owed me. By the time I got there, the brothel was gone. It had burned down, and the madam was gone. So I ended up working for a saloon keeper. I got a good taste there of all those lower classes you talk about with such disparagement. You know what Michael did when he found out where I was? He came and got me out. He
fought
our way out.

And he took me home again. He
forgave
me.”

She laughed bleakly. “But I kept running away. He made me feel things, amazing things. It was as though he was turning my whole life inside out.

Loving me, always loving me no matter what he learned about my past. No matter what I did. No matter how much I hurt him. He wouldn’t give up on me.”

Duke gripped her chin. “Just as I haven’t.” His eyes burned like coals.

“Or have you forgotten you ran away from me, too, several times, and I always brought you home and forgave you.”

She jerked her chin away and glared up at him. “Forgave me? You
owned
me. You see me as a possession. Something to be sold to the highest bidder.

Something to be used. Michael
loved
me. You always thought you owned my soul. Michael showed me no one does.”

“No?” He gently touched the cheek he had struck. “Don’t you feel right at 396

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home here, Angel? Haven’t you missed the good food, the beautiful clothes, the lavish setting, the
attention?”

She shifted uneasily and saw him smile. “I know you,” he said. “For all you protest, you love the feel of silk against your skin. You enjoy having a personal maid to attend you.” He picked up the empty pitcher from the table. “You love
milk.”
He laughed at her.

Angel’s face was aflame. His expression was filled with malicious delight as he pressed her. “I used to watch the way you played the men who came to you. Clay in your hands. They were besotted with you.”

“And that gave you power over them.”

“Yes, it did,” he readily admitted. “Great power.” He tipped her face up roughly. “I have missed you. I have missed the power you gave me because the men I brought to you fell under your spell, and when they did, they belonged to me.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“No one could ever touch you.”

“Michael did.” She saw the flash of rage in his dark eyes. Oddly, she wasn’t afraid. There was a stillness inside her. Just thinking about Michael gave her courage, but she knew it wasn’t a courage that would last. Not once Duke got started. He wasn’t like Magowan. He wouldn’t lose control, and he would never kill her.

Duke rose. “I’ll leave you for now, my dear. Rest. I’ll be back to talk with you again. We have business to discuss. After all, you must earn your keep.”

When he leaned down to kiss her, she turned her face away. His hard fingers clamped on her cheeks like a vice, forcing her head up. He kissed her hard. She felt no passion in him, nor did she see it when he drew back.

He had tired of her in that way when she was a little older than Cherry.

Duke paused at the door. “By the way, Angel, if your Michael comes for you, I will kill him the same way I killed Johnny.” He smiled slightly. “And I’m going to make you watch.” Her courage withered. He saw and smiled again.

Angel heard the key turn in the lock and sank down onto the bed.

Duke didn’t come back the next day or the day after that. Cherry brought her food, and a guard made sure the door was locked when the girl left.

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Angel knew what Duke was doing, but knowing didn’t help.

Her nightmares returned.

She was running, night closing around her. Heavy footsteps echoed in the alley behind her. Before her were the docks, ships’ masts filling the horizon. She ran from one to another, pleading that they would let her come aboard. “Sorry, ma’am. All filled up,” the sailors said, one after another.

She ran down the last pier and saw below her a garbage scow. The ropes were being untied. Looking back, she saw Duke. He was calling to her, his dark voice pulling at her.

Rats crawled over the refuse in the scow below her, feasting on rotting meat and vegetables. The foul smell assaulted her senses, but she jumped anyway and landed hard. Her hands sank into an oozing mass as rats squealed and scurried in all directions. She almost fainted from the foul stench but clung tightly as the scow began to move. It pulled away from the dock just as Duke reached the end.

“You can’t get away. You can’t get away, Angel.”

Then he was gone, and she was in the middle of a storm-tossed sea.

Waves crashed around her, splashing over the sides of the scow. She tried to climb to a safer haven, but there was none. She pulled herself higher to get away from the cold spray. When she reached the top, she saw Rab lying on his back. The black cord was still around his neck, and rats were tearing away his dead flesh. Crying out in fear, she slid down the heap again, huddling in the farthest corner of the scow away from him.