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Authors: Brenda Novak
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he tore into strips.
“What will it be?” he asked as he advanced on her.
Abigail couldn’t take her eyes away from his hands. “Ex-excuse me?”
“Do we do this the easy way or the hard way?”
There didn’t seem to be an easy way, at least for Abigail. She couldn’t imagine him forcing her skirts up under any circumstances, but being tied while he abused her was especially terrifying.
Her throat dry as parchment, she swallowed. She had to think, had to use her head. “Listen, m-maybe we could make a deal.”
Her words elicited an expression of surprise on his rakish face. “What kind of deal?” he asked, halting in front of her.
“My father would pay for my safety. He is not a rich man, but . . . but you could earn several pounds by returning me. We could leave now, make the college in an hour’s time and—”
“And get a hangman’s noose as my reward? If you think your father wouldn’t send a constable after me, you’re a lunatic. Besides, I don’t need your money.”
“You seemed to need it badly enough when you stole the college’s purse!”
“Such temper, Miss Hale.” He tut-tutted softly. “I did only what I had to.”
He wasn’t making any sense. Abigail had no idea how to reach him, how to bend him to her appeal. But there had to be a way. Every man had his weakness . . . “What then?” she asked. “You must have a price. Maybe I have s-something else you want.”
Even in the dark, Abigail could see his eyes slide appraisingly over her body. “That sounds like you would be willing to grant me certain liberties.”
He was going to take them anyway. If she allowed him free access to her body, perhaps he would help her, or at least keep her from Jack and the others. The thought of Jack’s sweaty body poised above her own was enough to make Abigail ill. In the face of certain compromise, wasn’t it smarter to give herself to one man to avoid the degradation and humiliation of being used by many? “Indeed. So . . . so long as you won’t tie me up.”
“What has you so convinced I would be willing to make this trade? Are you not the same woman who recently called me a lout? A deceitful pig? A louse? And, if I am all the things you say, why would I bargain for something I can simply take? Are you claiming to have such vast experience in these matters that it would be worth my while to enlist your cooperation?”
Abigail took quick stock of what she might use to sweeten her offer. “I haven’t had firsthand experience, no,” she admitted, “but I have read about human intercourse many times, in . . . in my father’s medical journals.”
Her father had kept such books on the top shelf of his bookcase. He assumed putting them out of reach would be enough to keep his daughter from spoiling her mind. But his reluctance to share the volumes, and his claims that they were not for a lady’s delicate sensibilities, only piqued Abigail’s interest. She had poured through them all by the time she was seventeen, many a second time in the four years since. “I may be a virgin, but I am not an uneducated one.”
Max paused at this announcement, the makeshift bonds he planned to use dangling from his hands. “A virgin, Miss Hale? How old are you?”
“One and twenty.”
“Isn’t that a bit old to be so innocent?”
Abigail felt her face grow warm. It wasn’t as if she had never had a man show interest. Sometimes the students at the college made overtures, but she was so immersed in her duties . . . “I have been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Working, of course. And . . . and studying. I plan to become an anatomist like my father.”
She waited for the snort of derision this announcement normally produced, but Maximillian Wilder merely looked interested. “You have been admitted to the college, then?”
“Well, no. Not yet. But . . . I do work at the college. I am in charge of the household accounts. I see that everything runs smoothly, orchestrate events
“What will it be?” he asked as he advanced on her.
Abigail couldn’t take her eyes away from his hands. “Ex-excuse me?”
“Do we do this the easy way or the hard way?”
There didn’t seem to be an easy way, at least for Abigail. She couldn’t imagine him forcing her skirts up under any circumstances, but being tied while he abused her was especially terrifying.
Her throat dry as parchment, she swallowed. She had to think, had to use her head. “Listen, m-maybe we could make a deal.”
Her words elicited an expression of surprise on his rakish face. “What kind of deal?” he asked, halting in front of her.
“My father would pay for my safety. He is not a rich man, but . . . but you could earn several pounds by returning me. We could leave now, make the college in an hour’s time and—”
“And get a hangman’s noose as my reward? If you think your father wouldn’t send a constable after me, you’re a lunatic. Besides, I don’t need your money.”
“You seemed to need it badly enough when you stole the college’s purse!”
“Such temper, Miss Hale.” He tut-tutted softly. “I did only what I had to.”
He wasn’t making any sense. Abigail had no idea how to reach him, how to bend him to her appeal. But there had to be a way. Every man had his weakness . . . “What then?” she asked. “You must have a price. Maybe I have s-something else you want.”
Even in the dark, Abigail could see his eyes slide appraisingly over her body. “That sounds like you would be willing to grant me certain liberties.”
He was going to take them anyway. If she allowed him free access to her body, perhaps he would help her, or at least keep her from Jack and the others. The thought of Jack’s sweaty body poised above her own was enough to make Abigail ill. In the face of certain compromise, wasn’t it smarter to give herself to one man to avoid the degradation and humiliation of being used by many? “Indeed. So . . . so long as you won’t tie me up.”
“What has you so convinced I would be willing to make this trade? Are you not the same woman who recently called me a lout? A deceitful pig? A louse? And, if I am all the things you say, why would I bargain for something I can simply take? Are you claiming to have such vast experience in these matters that it would be worth my while to enlist your cooperation?”
Abigail took quick stock of what she might use to sweeten her offer. “I haven’t had firsthand experience, no,” she admitted, “but I have read about human intercourse many times, in . . . in my father’s medical journals.”
Her father had kept such books on the top shelf of his bookcase. He assumed putting them out of reach would be enough to keep his daughter from spoiling her mind. But his reluctance to share the volumes, and his claims that they were not for a lady’s delicate sensibilities, only piqued Abigail’s interest. She had poured through them all by the time she was seventeen, many a second time in the four years since. “I may be a virgin, but I am not an uneducated one.”
Max paused at this announcement, the makeshift bonds he planned to use dangling from his hands. “A virgin, Miss Hale? How old are you?”
“One and twenty.”
“Isn’t that a bit old to be so innocent?”
Abigail felt her face grow warm. It wasn’t as if she had never had a man show interest. Sometimes the students at the college made overtures, but she was so immersed in her duties . . . “I have been busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Working, of course. And . . . and studying. I plan to become an anatomist like my father.”
She waited for the snort of derision this announcement normally produced, but Maximillian Wilder merely looked interested. “You have been admitted to the college, then?”
“Well, no. Not yet. But . . . I do work at the college. I am in charge of the household accounts. I see that everything runs smoothly, orchestrate events
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