Free Maggie MacKeever by Quin Page B

chamber, and that door was firmly closed. The windows, behind their elegant damask hangings, were barred.
    At least the pistol was no longer pressed against her ribs, although staring into its muzzle was little more reassuring. “This is a lovely room, Miss— Ah. We have not been properly introduced. What do you prefer I call you?” Kate inquired.
    The woman gazed at her mockingly. “How polite we are. Shall I offer you refreshment? Is sherry to your taste?” Kate inclined her head. The woman reached for a decanter and poured, maintaining her grip on the pistol all the while. “In answer to your question, I’m known here as Mam.”
    Gingerly, Kate took the glass. “Where is ‘here’?”
    Mam laughed, revealing an unexpectedly fine set of teeth. “You’re in a house of civil reception. A nunnery. Where anyone sufficiently flush in the pocket can make the beast with two backs.”
    First a gambling hell, and now a bordello. Kate’s experience of the world was advancing at a startling pace.
    Judging from those teeth, which Mam was displaying in a most unnerving manner, the woman was younger than she first appeared. Kate took a deep swallow, felt the sherry course through her, warming her throat and belly. “And so you are—”
    “Laced mutton?” suggested Mam. “Haymarket ware? I am the abbess of this fine establishment as well.”
    Wonderful. Kate was being held prisoner by a bawd. She hoped Quin would soon rescue her.
    But why should he think to search for her here?
    And why was she here?
    Kate took another swallow, trying not to think what might be going on in other parts of the house. “What do you mean to do with me?”
    Mam looked her over, critically. “Sell you, of course. Maybe at auction: I haven’t yet decided. There’s some as like a cripple. To each his own, I say.”
    Kate might have said several things, all of them unwise, had not a sudden horrendous suspicion caused her to clench her teeth.
    Was Quin familiar with this place?
    “Are you ill?” Mam inquired, with mock solicitude.
    Kate had been too nervous to eat dinner. She had nothing in her belly but champagne, sherry, and butterflies.
    The sherry packed a particularly potent punch. “You’ve drugged me!” Kate gasped.
    “Naturally I drugged you, ninnyhammer. What did you think, I snatched you up so we could have a comfy coze?”
    Came a tapping on the door. Eyes fixed on Kate, Mam called out, “Who’s there?”
    Liliane strolled into the room. Her eyes narrowed at sight of Kate. “Moxley’s closed early due to a spot of trouble. What’s she doing here?”
    Mam aimed her pistol, briefly, at the doorway. “She’s the cheese in my trap. You should have told me the minute she showed up at Moxley House.”
    “Why should I have done?” Liliane came closer. “What’s this one have to do with the price of peas? And how did you know she was at Moxley House? If there was others about your business, you should have said, so we wouldn’t trip all over each other and ourselves. Or mayhap you’re forgetting it was you as told me too many cooks spoil the broth.”
     “I had no one else at Moxley’s.” Mam gestured toward Kate’s gown.
    “Mme Dubois?” Liliane frowned. “Beau Loversall bought those clothes.”
    “Beau Loversall is a notorious nipfarthing,” Mam said impatiently. “Quin paid the reckoning. And now he’s going to pay another that is long past due.”
    Liliane looked blank. “She means to sell me,” Kate croaked.
    “Sell you?” Liliane echoed. “But you are quite old!”
    “Keep a civil tongue in your head,” snapped Mam. “She’s no older than I am. The Black Baron’s partiality for her will compensate for any shortcomings she may have.”
    “What partiality? Quin holds me in no fondness.” Difficult to converse rationally, Kate discovered, when one’s tongue didn’t fit properly in the confines of one’s mouth. She tried to lift her hand, discovered she could not, and gurgled a protest.
    “It