Evening Star (Star Quartet 1)

“Two hundred and fifty pounds,” someone yelled, to more applause and laughter.

“Do you wish to assure yourself that the lovely Claudia is a virgin, signore?” Signora Lamponni asked.

“Why not?” the man cried out amid the applause. He heaved himself onto the dais.

Now Giana understood why there was a sofa. Claudia walked to it, her hips swaying provocatively, and lay down on her back. The man waved his hand in the air and drew a curtain between him and the audience.

Giana turned away, clutching at her stomach. Nauseating bile rose in her throat.

“Dio,” the man shouted, pushing the curtain aside, “she’s ready for me and a virgin.”

The man paid Signora Lamponni while Claudia’s clothing was gathered up by a servant. They left together through a small door behind the dais.

“Number two,” Signora Lamponni called out. The girl next to Giana giggled and winked, and walked onto the dais.

Giana turned away and sank into a chair. She lowered her head and stared down at the tips of her white leather slippers. It seemed but a few moments had passed when she noticed the two remaining girls were staring at her. “Who is number four? It is you,” the girl said to Giana. “Quickly, the gentlemen are growing restless.”

“Number four,” Signora Lamponni called out again, her voice more

strident.

Giana felt someone take her arm and pull her up from the chair. She felt a hand in the small of her back, shoving her toward the dais. She walked forward in a daze, her eyes fastened to the floor in front of her.

“Ah, there is the little wildcat.”

“Watch out for this one, she’s a hellion.”

“This is Helen,” Signora Lamponni said. “She is French, a delightful addition to this season’s offerings.”

“So delightful that she’ll scratch your eyes out,” Santelo shouted out, enjoying himself.

“I’ll take her,” Signore Cippolo called out. “One thousand lire.”

“Take her with what, a whip?”

Giana stood frozen as the man laughed, her eyes still on the floor. She heard Signora Lamponni hiss, “Take off your glove, you stupid girl.”

Giana raised her eyes and met Daniele’s impassive gaze. Slowly she drew off her right glove.

Alex watched her, frowning. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she was frightened out of her wits. She looked like a puppet, all stiff and wooden, her movements awkward and graceless.

Lazily he called out, “Three hundred dollars.”

“The American is used to taming savages,” someone shouted.

Signore Cippolo eyed the American from beneath his heavily hooded eyes. “Four hundred.”

Giana heard Signora Lamponni cursing under her breath. “The other glove, you witless child.”

Giana sent an agonized glance toward Daniele as the other glove fell to the floor in front of her.

“Five hundred.”

“The little wench is shy.”

“It is a good act.”

“Take off your gown,” Signora Lamponni growled. Dio, the little fool could ruin her reputation.