sooner or later we’d have to have a talk.” He caught hold of her. Sobering, she struggled, but he lifted her and dumped her into the icy water. Gasping, she tried to get out, but he grabbed her head and forced her under. Terrified by the iron weight of his huge hand, she fought. When her lungs burned for air and she was losing consciousness, he dragged her up. “Enough?” he said.
“Enough,” she rasped, dragging in air.
He shoved her down again. She bucked and kicked, clawing for escape.
When he pulled her up again, she choked and vomited. He laughed, and she knew he was enjoying it. He stood in front of her, feet planted apart, and reached for her head again. An irrational fury rose, and she swung her fist straight and sure. When he dropped to his knees, groaning, she scrambled out of his reach.
When he came after her again, she screamed. He caught hold of her. She kicked and scratched, gasping with effort. He had a hand at her throat when the door burst open and the Duchess sailed in. She slammed the door behind her and shouted at them both to stop it.
Magowan did as she commanded, but he gave Angel a malevolent look.
“I’m going to kill you. I swear it.”
“Enough!” the Duchess said, furious. “I heard her scream from the stair-way. If the men heard, what do you think would happen?”
“They’d hang him,” Angel said, crossing her legs and laughing at him.
The Duchess slapped her. Angel fell back in shock. “Not another word, 58
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Angel,” the Duchess warned. Straightening, she looked at Magowan again. “I said sober her up, Bret, and have a talk with her. That’s all I want you to do to her. Do you understand?” She yanked on the bell cord.
The three waited in pulsating silence. The slap had silenced Angel. She knew Duchess had barely reined in her devil. She also knew after one look at him that another foolish outburst on her part might snap his leash.
When someone knocked discreetly, Duchess opened the door enough to order hot coffee and bread. When she closed the door, she crossed the room and sat down on the straight-backed chair. “I sent you to do something very simple, Bret. You do just what I tell you and nothing more,” she said.
“Angel’s right. They’d hang you.”
“She needs a good lesson,” Magowan said, eyes black on Angel. All her bravado had evaporated. She’d seen clearly enough that something dark and evil shone in Magowan’s eyes. She recognized that look. She had seen it on another man’s face from time to time. She had never taken Bret seriously before, but he was serious, indeed. She knew also that fear was the very last thing she could show. It would feed his blood lust until even the Duchess couldn’t stop him. So she was calm and still, like a mouse in its hole.
The Duchess looked at her for a long moment. “You’re going to behave now, aren’t you, Angel?”
Angel sat up slowly and looked back at her with grave, sardonic eyes.
“Yes, ma’am.” She shivered with cold.
“Give her a sheet before she catches a chill.”
Magowan snatched one from the bed and flung it at her. She wrapped the satin around herself like a royal robe and didn’t dare look at him.
Helpless rage and fear feasted on her.
“Come here, Angel,” the Duchess said.
Angel raised her head and looked at her. When she didn’t move quickly enough, Magowan grabbed a handful of blonde hair and yanked her up. She gritted her teeth, refusing him the satisfaction of crying out. “When she tells you to do something, you do it,” he snarled as he shoved her.
Angel fell to her knees before Duchess.
The woman stroked her hair, and the calculated gentleness after Magowan’s brutality destroyed Angel’s defiance. “When the tray arrives, 59
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Angel, eat the bread and drink every last drop of the coffee. Bret will stay to see