Harvest Moon (Borrowed Brides 2)

Unlike Arnie Mason. So unlike the sour metallic scent surrounding Arnie Mason. Tessa turned her gaze back to his face. He blinked. Arnie hadn’t blinked. His blue eyes had stared sightlessly while the dark blood ran in rivulets from his throat onto her dingy white sheets and her dress. Her blue dress.

Tessa glanced down. “Sweet Mary!” His blood stained her dress. Shocked anew, she bolted up from her seat. David’s sheepskin jacket slid to the floor.

He stepped forward.

“Look at me.” She tugged at the fastening of her costume. “Sweet Mary, look at me.” Her gaze darted from her dress to David’s face. “No, don’t! Turn your back!”

Standing there, facing her, David refused to obey. He watched as she reached behind her and began to yank at the opening of her gown.

Tessa Roarke unbuttoned as far as she could reach, then turned and presented her back to him. “Please, help me. I can’t stand to—”

“Bring a blanket,” David shouted to Deputy Harris.

“Only one bla—”

“Forget the damned rules, Harris. Just bring another blanket!” David barked out the words before turning his attention to the small cloth buttons on Tessa’s dress. He moved a couple of steps closer.

She moved with him, the top of her head bumping his chin. David backed away.

“The deputy is bringing another blanket.” He raised his voice loud enough for the words to carry back to the deputy. “A clean one. And some warm water.”

Tessa nodded.

David stared at the locks of heavy red hair that had escaped her bun and hung down her back. His fingers itched to touch it.

He forced himself to return to the task at hand.

David moved aside the thick mass of hair to undo the tiny satin-covered buttons on her gaudy costume. It was a first for David. He’d never undressed a client before. But he’d never represented a woman before, or rushed to a jail to save one. He had her dress half unbuttoned before he realized she wasn’t wearing a corset. The dress was cut too low and too close to her body to accommodate one. He felt the chill of her skin as he opened her dress, smelled the cheap flowery perfume used by the women at the Satin Slipper. But it didn’t smell cheap on Tessa. It was light, floral, intoxicating. David shook his head as if to clear it as Deputy Harris arrived with a fresh blanket. He could feel himself going through the motions, knew he was awake, yet everything still seemed unreal. Like a dream.

He finished unbuttoning her gown, then handed her the blanket as she slipped it off, along with her stockings. “Comfortable?” David asked.

“Not very.” She sat huddled on the cot, the blanket wrapped around her. Beneath it her underclothes clung to her skin, but Tessa kept them on. Removing her dress with him there had probably been bad enough; removing her undergarments would surely be unthinkable. She hoped the night wouldn’t hold too many more humiliations. “But I’d rather wear this”— she lifted a corner of the blanket—“than those.” She nodded toward the blue dress and the black net stockings.

David shoved the discarded clothes through the bars, and Deputy Harris quickly removed them. Minutes later the deputy brought two mugs of steaming hot coffee along with the water without being asked a second time. He even threw a few more scuttles of coal into the stove, but the heat barely penetrated the cold of the hallway and the cell.

David grinned as he watched Tessa Roarke sipping her coffee. It was remarkable how quickly rules, even city council rules, could be broken, to soothe a distraught woman. He studied her as he sat across from her in a straight-backed wooden chair. She appeared calm.

David cradled his own cup of coffee in an effort to warm his hands. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Tessa fixed her gaze on him. “I could.”

“Well?” David waited.

She answered him with a question of her own. “What about Coalie?”

“What about him?” David took a sip of coffee.

“Is he all right? Was he hurt?”

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Now it’s your turn,” David reminded her. “I answered your question. You’re supposed to answer mine.”

“Who are you?” she asked. “Why are you here?”

“That’s two more questions.” David shifted his weight on the uncomfortable chair, then stood up. “My name is David Alexander. I’m an attorney. I’ve come to offer my services.”