Their Kidnapped Bride (Bridgewater Ménage 1)

I cringed at the thought of how he ensured her silence. Mary was a meek woman and I was coming to discover why. Mary had no grounds to protest or complain about a husband's peccadillo. A wife was completely at the mercy of her husband.

"Surely you're worried that Allen or Clara would tell tales as well." I wasn't the only one who could reveal his extramarital tendencies.

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Please, Clara was easily dispensable and Allen knows his place. He's just as driven as I am to be in Washington."

I could only imagine how he'd dispensed of Clara if turning me over to Mrs. Pratt was how he dealt with a member of his own family. I began to wring my hands. Thomas seemed as serious about this as everything else, removing any problem or impediment from his way with ruthless precision. It appeared he was taking care of me in just such a fashion.

I did not have to stay here and listen to him. I walked toward the door to leave, but he held up a hand. "You have no money, no connections. Only the clothes upon your back."

I shook my head in doubt. "This is insanity, Thomas!" I waved my hands in the air, frustrated. "I have friends, a sister-in-law, neighbors! I have Father's money! I can just walk out that door and see someone on the street I know and they will help me."

"Besides your lack of money, we're not in Helena."

My arms fell to my side. My stomach plummeted. "What? You can't. I'm of age."

"True, but your father's will stated I maintained control until you reach the age of twenty-five or upon your marriage. Since you have yet to wed, I can do what I wish with the money."

"You've turned all my suitors away!" I cried out, realizing right then and there his master plan. "You've planned this all."

He smiled, albeit coldly. "We are in Simms, in Mrs. Pratt's establishment. If you walk out that door, you will be on the streets of a strange town with no one to vouch for you, with no alternative but to return to her to survive. Besides, I doubt she would let you leave. Isn't that right, Mrs. Pratt?" He didn't wait for the woman to answer. "She has paid me a tidy sum for you and I have no doub

t you will need to earn your keep on your back." He sniffed. "The way you seemed to enjoy Clara's sexual awakening, I trust this will be a perfect fit for you." He eyed me from head to toe, then turned his attention to Mrs. Pratt. "Thank you for your business."

"Mr. James," she replied with a small head nod, holding the door open for him. She was going to let him go?

Thomas left, his void as big as the emptiness of my emotions. I'd been sold to a brothel! The very idea was ludicrous, unimaginable, yet here I was. Tears filled my eyes.

"It's not all that bad, Miss James. You're no longer under that odious man's thumb." She pursed her lips as she shut the door behind him. It was as if life as I'd known it had ended, the door closed on it, a new one beginning. That was what was most fearful. What did my new life entail? Would I have to service men like Clara had Allen, or would I have to suffer beneath the cruel hands of a man such as Thomas? This was insanity!

I wiped frantically at my wet cheeks. "Little consolation," I replied, looking down at the decadent Oriental rug. "The alternative, the way Thomas painted it, is not appealing either."

"That man, your step-brother, sold you to me." She pointed toward the closed door. "He is not a man worthy of our attentions. I say good riddance." Her soft voice held a note of iron as she waved her hand through the air with finality.

"Then why did you accept his business? Why did you buy me?"

Her skirts swished as she crossed the room. "To make money, of course. Yet I have a soft spot for women whose lives have become endangered. Trust me, you are better off here with me than to linger another night beneath that man's roof."

I tilted up my chin, not as confident in my situation as she. "I suspect it is dependent on what you wish to do with me."

"You are a virgin," she stated.

I blushed furiously, my cheeks hot.

"Yes, I can see by your reaction to that word alone that you are," she replied, going over to her desk, sitting down at the chair beside it. Her back was straight and she adjusted her full skirts. She might be a Madame, but she had the mannerisms of a lady.

I looked down at the pale blue morning dress I'd donned just this morning. I thought back, realizing Thomas must have laced my coffee with the laudanum. I took it black, so the bitter taste would have been well masked. The last I remember was eating a piece of toast with marmalade in the dining room.

"I suppose virginity is quite a commodity in your line of work. You are a Madame, are you not?" I countered, wanting to confirm her profession. I doubted she arranged for governesses.

She nodded once. "I am. Unlike your Mr. James, I offer you two choices."

I arched a brow as I waited to hear them. My options, which I doubted were going to be to my liking, might be better heard sitting down, so I returned to sit at the end of the velvet covered chaise on which I awoke.

"You may work here to pay off your debt. As you are innocent, you will be quite popular, I assure you. You are also quite lovely, which will make your long-term appeal guaranteed. This is the finest brothel between Kansas City and San Francisco and we cater to more unusual requests. The other girls will teach you all that you need to know above and beyond basic fucking with regards to meeting the men's needs."

My mouth fell open at her base language, but I supposed it was relevant to her profession and part of her everyday conversation.

I glanced down at my hands in my lap trying to collect my thoughts. A dull throb filled my head, the lingering after effects of Thomas's deviousness, it made clear thinking difficult. "And...the other choice?"