Jade Star (Star Quartet 4)
Page 41
“Well, if it isn’t my innocent little sister,” Sarah said, closing her parasol with an abrupt snap. “Were you speaking to Kuhio? You needn’t worry, Juliana, Father has given him money to recompense him for you killing his wife.”
We’re leaving tomorrow, Saint said over and over to himself. Jules won’t have to put up with this anymore. His hands clenched, but he couldn’t very well hit Jules’s sister, though in his mind, she deserved it.
Jules simply stared at her sister, her eyes bewildered and pleading.
Saint said now, his voice bland, “How well you’re looking, Sarah. I do hope that you and John Bleecher marry before your belly swells.”
Sarah gasped, then gave her sister a look of utter hatred. “You had to malign me too, didn’t you? You evil, wicked girl!”
“Of course,” Saint continued, smiling, “after you marry John, I imagine you’ll have to keep a keen eye on him. I do hope he doesn’t give you syphilis, Sarah.”
“You filthy creature! You deserve each other!”
“And I think, my dear, that you and John Bleecher will make the perfect couple. He can make love to you in the dark, then go find himself a helpless girl to force. Do send your sister a letter announcing the birth of your first child.”
“John will kill you for that!”
For the first time, Saint felt his rage get the better of him. “I would like to get my hands on that worthless little bastard,” he said, his voice evilly pleasant. “Again. Is he hiding his black-and-blue face?”
“Please, please, stop,” Jules whispered, grabbing her husband’s hand. “Sarah, you can’t mean all those things you said—”
“Shut up, Jules! No apologizing to this jealous bitch! Good day, Miss DuPres.”
Saint pulled her away with him, ignoring the startled, curious glances cast their way. Let them all gossip, he thought, it wouldn’t matter. Tomorrow they’d be gone.
They’d walked into Lahaina, and now they began their walk back
to Makila Point. Jules didn’t say a word.
Neither did Saint. What could he say?
Saint jerked awake, jumped to his feet, and ran into the small house. Jules was screaming, sobbing as if her heart were breaking.
“Jules,” he nearly shouted at her as he sat down beside her on the narrow bed. She was writhing, her body twisted in the single sheet that covered her. She cried out again, whispering, “No, oh God, no!”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Jules, wake up! Come on, sweetheart, wake up.”
Jules felt his hands on her, heard his man’s voice, and struggled wildly. “No, don’t touch me!”
He didn’t want to slap her as he’d done before, but he didn’t see much choice. He drew back his hand, then paused. He saw her eyes slowly open in the dim light, saw her blink. “Michael?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Yes, Jules. It’s all right now. You’re safe, with me.” Had he repeated the same words to her before?
She drew a shuddering breath, but she couldn’t seem to stem the sobs erupting from her throat. She couldn’t seem to break away from the awful dream.
“Jules, tell me. Tell me what you were dreaming.” He felt only a moment of guilt, using her vulnerability against her. But it was for the best, dammit. “Tell me.”
She gulped down the tears, and buried her face against his bare chest. “He tied me down on his bed, my arms and legs apart. He took all my clothes. He touched me and told me how lovely I was. He told me that he would keep me naked so I would get used to being looked at. He told me that the man who bought me would want me like this. Oh, God!”
“It’s all right,” Saint repeated, stroking her hair. “It’s all right now.”
It seemed as though the dam had burst, he thought, listening to her gasping little breaths, seeing through her eyes what had happened to her.
“He threatened me. He told me if I didn’t behave for him, he would bring in some of his men and let them play with me. He made me walk about in front of him naked. Then that night he drugged me, and put his hands on my breasts, and kissed them, and I felt so strange, and so frightened. He kept touching me . . . he never let me wear any clothes until that awful red gown. He told me he wanted to take me, but I was worth too much money to him as a virgin.” She suddenly reared back in his arms, her eyes wild. “I laughed at him and told him he was an ugly old man!”
“Good for you,” Saint said. “Well done, Jules.”
“I did it only once,” she said, more calmly now. “I was too frightened of him to put up much of a fight after that.” She buried her face against his chest again. “He even made me relieve myself in front of him, and bathe. I felt like a cheap, worthless . . . nothing. He wouldn’t stop fondling me! God, I hated his hands, and how he looked at me when he was touching me.”