Free Forced Offer by Gloria Gay Page B

started, expecting Lord Berrington to open the door wide and burst into the room. Her body was tense with anticipation and fear, and she wished she had died like her sister, rather than live a life that promised to be nothing more than a basket of thorns.

    * * * * *

    "Milor'—ahem—sir. Beg pardon, your lordship," said the innkeeper of the Blue Teal,
    "Will you be wanting anything else?"
    It was past midnight, Lord Berrington realized as he looked at the clock in the corner of the private dining room where he sat alone at a table, an empty glass and wine bottle before him.
    "Oh—yes," answered Berrington. "Uncork a bottle for me, will you? And bring me another wine glass."
    "Yes, milord, right away."
    The man left and came back shortly where Berrington was getting ready to leave.
    "Here it is, your lordship. Would you like a lad to take it up for you?" he asked.
    "No," said Lord Berrington, "I'll take it up myself, thank you." He took the wineglasses by their stems and the wine bottle with one hand and with the other grabbed his coat, which he flipped over his shoulder. He then left the dining room and went up the stairs to his bedroom.
    Belinda, who had been unable to close her eyes, had during the last few minutes, started to doze off. She now froze as the door opened and Lord Berrington walked into the bedroom.
    The room shrank in size with his presence, a presence that overwhelmed Belinda with its maleness and authority.
    In the dim candlelight she followed his progress as he tossed his coat over a chair and placing a bottle of wine and two wineglasses he had brought with him on a table proceeded to fill both glasses with wine. Then without a word he came over to where Belinda lay, her body as straight and tense as a board, sat on a chair by the bed and handed her one of the wineglasses. She was unable to stop herself from trembling from head to toe.
    "Drink this," Berrington ordered. "It will ease the tension in you. I don’t know what you’ve been told about this night, but it’s obvious you were terrorized by their words. Forget what you’ve been told. This business is very much like learning to swim. The best thing to do is to plunge right into it. It won’t be as bad as you imagine, I assure you. Drink all your wine, now."
    Belinda straightened up in the bed to a sitting position and with a shaking hand took the large heavy goblet. Then with trembling lips sipped it once and stopped, but without looking up at him.
    "All of it," he ordered. "To the last drop."
    She did as she was told and immediately felt the wine stealing warmly through her. She had never in her life drunk more than light negus or punch.
    Lord Berrington took the wineglass from her and refilled it again.
    "Drink this one now, but slower," he now said as he too began to sip his wine. And as he spoke Belinda's head had become so light that a feeling of well being invaded her body and her head so that she felt lightly floating.
    Lord Berrington's face was right before her but his features in the dim light and the effect of the wine on her brain made them seem softly blurred. He wasn't looking at her, though. He was staring fixedly at his wineglass.
    Belinda took more sips of her wine as they drank the wine in silence and the grip on her goblet lessened so that it tilted. Lord Berrington grabbed it and straightened it up for her. She took another sip and another, and then finished the rest of it.
    "May I have some more?" she asked, faintly conscious that she was not in complete command of the words she was uttering.
    "Not for a while," said Lord Berrington standing up, and added, "Lie back now."
    He then went to the other side of the room and removed his clothes. Belinda, however, did not see this, for he was out of her range of vision as she looked fixedly before her, feeling better than she had ever felt in her life and wondering if that was the reason people drank, for it eased despair in a most instantaneous way. But then she would have to