Chapter 3
Kathleena gazed from the window as the train bumped along the track. The scenery in this foreign land of Pennsylvania was exquisite. Tall sugar maples and white oaks rose high above expansive rolling hills, their autumn foliage every imaginable shade of red, orange and yellow. The repetitive gentle movement of the passenger car began to lull the young woman into a calm stupor and suddenly tired, her mind drifted to the morning after the grotto.
Feeling an intense panic rise in her breast, Kathleena shut her expressive eyes as her father gently placed a roughened hand under her chin. Why has she changed so? He wondered. Had her sudden illness taken its toll? Jacques Tell studied his daughters upturned face, noting the absolute paleness to her skin and the deep shadows under her closed lids.
"Cherie, look at me!"
Pulling away she strode to his desk, a deep frown of despair clouding her beautiful features. Experiencing his anger at what must seem to him her sudden show of 'defiance', she shook her head. Why is this happening to me? Dear Lord, why? Her sire could only watch on as she scribed in the writing tablet she'd been holding since she'd entered the room; a tablet...now her sole form of communication.
He read her words.
'I must leave. Today.'
"Kathleena Christina Tell," he growled. "I am your father. I demand to know this very instant what has happened to cause you to behave in this manner!"
As she sat in a high backed wing chair, Madeline stiffened at the severe tone in her husband's voice. It held an edge of danger she'd never heard before. Had Jacques' words been directed at her, she knew she would have told him anything he wished to know. His daughter, however, was not so inclined. Only one voice could cause her to tremble. A voice that spoke in hushed tones, laced with threats and promises of excruciating agony. As Kathleena tipped the pen to the ink pot, Jacques noticed a tremor run through her slight body.
'Nothing has happened, Father,' she lied. 'I only sense that I am in great danger here, especially if ...' Her hand paused and she shook anew, remembering. '...this Duncan Fasette is as dangerous as you've intimated.' As her father paced his study, she watched his fine high polished shoes cross the floor.
"But it is too soon. Rien n'a été arrange. (Nothing has been arranged.) There has been no time to contact Miss Benjamin or her fiancé."
Rising to her feet, Madeline placed a gentle hand on her husband's sleeve. "Darling, if Kathleena feels she is in such a great danger then there is no need to wait. I shall write a letter of introduction explaining to my niece the situation."
Gazing up at her step mother, the teenager bestowed a smile of such gratitude that her father actually snarled aloud. This is madness! Why the devil would she look upon Madeline and not him? Mon Dieu, did his daughter hate him? Hate him for keeping secret the danger she was facing? Did she think him a coward? Unable to help himself, Jacques again grasped her chin in his large hand and frowned as she focused on anything but him. "J'ai enfin compris. (I finally understand.) You blame me so deeply for not protecting you from Marie, you cannot bear to look at your own father."
Hot tears sprang to her eyes and Kathleena shook her head, gently now for her throat was beginning to throb painfully. (Oh Father, how I wish I could tell you.) He released her chin, throwing his hands in the air, exasperated. Desperately, she tried to will him not to be furious with her. Dear Lord how she longed to see his face again. Duncan's ultimatum was much too difficult to adhere to. And then her thoughts returned to his shocking proclamation at the grotto. Who worked for him here at the chateau? Who could possibly hate her so deeply? She'd been gone for so long. Or was it as Duncan intimated? Was he merely lying to prove his mastery over her? (Damn him to hell!) She could not find it within herself to put his dictum to the ultimate test. Having lost no much, Kathleena would not gamble with her sight.
Jacques turned at the sound of a pen scratching against paper. This was insane! Why had she so stubbornly refused to be seen by a doctor? As she held out a paper before her, he was obliged to take it.
'Father, please know that never will I blame you for this horrendous situation. You were unaware of the evil that poisoned my mother's heart. I will forever love you...' Unable to read any more, he tossed the paper to his desk and tightly enfolded his daughter, kissing the top of her head, inhaling the sweet scent of roses.
"Kathleena..."
A tear slid down her cheek as she savored what little comfort she was able to accept. Duncan had not taken this from her. But he would, of that she had no doubt. Reluctantly, Jacqes released her and went to his safe. "You will take this," he said, placing a large amount of American currency into an envelope. "I will also instruct my solicitors in the States to set up an account. Oh yes... you will also need to select a woman to aid you while you travel."
As she placed a hand on his fine suit coat, Kathleena shook her head. Madeline saw the terror in downcast eyes while she listened to their heated, albeit one-sided, exchange. "Daughter, you are mad if you believe I am going to allow you to traipse alone to another country, particularly if your silence remains permanent!" Tears slid down her cheeks as she shook her head in vigorous protest, feeling the stitches tighten painfully against her ravaged flesh. She must make him understand... she could take no one. She could trust no one.
Unable to remain quiet any longer, Madeline gently pulled him aside. "Husband, allow her this one decision. If she feels the need, I am certain Kathleena will have sense enough to employ a servant." At his puckered brow, she continued, pulling him towards the entryway. "Jacques, your daughter is clearly overwhelmed and frightened. After all, she will be an outsider in a foreign land, calling upon people she doesn't know to help her."
"Duncan cannot have her," he whispered into his wife's ear. "He can't!"
She gazed up at her beloved seeing for the first time the deep lines etched into his handsome face. "Mon Cher, look at her. Take a long, hard look." Turning, Jacques gazed at his little girl standing near the harpsichord as she sadly fingered the keys. No... Kathleena was a little girl no longer. "Do you know what I see?" Madeline asked. "I see a strong young woman full of courage, perseverance and intelligence." With a groan, he realized everything she said was true and slowly nodded in agreement. "Très bon," (very good) she said firmly, ushering her husband into the hallway. "Now, be a dear and leave us," Concern clearly evident in her voice she added, "I wish to write the letter to my niece and your daughter and I have much to discuss." Closing the doors a little too quickly to be deemed polite, Madeline rushed to her.
"Who has done this to you?"
Although her heart skidded to a stop, outwardly the teenager remained calm. She stared with a deep look of confusion pasted on her beautiful features. Shaking her head with a frown, the older woman explained, "As you were speaking to your father, your covering slipped. He did not see, but I had. You must tell me everything." Placing a hand to her throat, she turned away. Undeterred, the elegant matron held out the writing tablet and ink. Gawking at it as if it were a snake about to strike Kathleena sighed and hastily scrawled a simple sentence.
'I cannot! It is too dangerous.'
"But..."
'No, please. I can write no more.'
Cautiously Madeline reached up and surprisingly, the girl made no move to stop her, choosing instead to close her eyes as the woman lowered the neckerchief, baring the repulsive wound. Kathleena heard the deep breath as her new mother fought to control the strong urge to vomit. "Mon Dieu!"
Placing a finger to her lips, Kathleena begged for silence.
"Yesterday, when I came to your room, he was there?" Shaking her head, Kathleena winced in pain. She must cease this interrogation. Anyone could be listening. Again placing a finger against her lips, she tapped firmly, expressive eyes pleading with her to stop. With a reluctant nod, Madeline desisted. "I shall write the letter to Tierra. She will accept you if I wish it."
Suddenly Charles and Charlotte burst into the room, their governess quickly on their heels. "Pardon, Madame, we are interrupting?"
"Well, actually-"
Placing a hand on Madeline's shoulder to hush her, it was in that instant Kathleena realized she could trust the woman with her very life if need be. Regardless, she swore no harm would come to anyone. She could not live with the guilt. Certain her injury was completely shielded, the young woman slid to her knees and opened her arms to the children. Still a bit shy, they walked to her and Kathleena tenderly embraced them both, truly wishing she was able to know them better before she left. Turning to Madeline, she implored the woman for help.
Their mother nodded. "Poppets, your sister will be leaving us. She is going on a grand adventure! To America and…
"No!" Charlotte cried, clutching her new sister's waist tightly. "Vous ne pouvez pas partir!" (You can't leave!) With the passing of her father and brother still fresh in her child mind, she would now be losing another, no matter how briefly known. Kathleena knew her misery, could feel it within herself. With firm resolve, she turned to the desk and jotted a quick note which she handed to the little girl with a brilliant smile. The child bounced up and down excitedly. She showed it Charles and then to her mother.
"Maman, maman, what does it say?!"
Quickly scanning the words, Madeline looked up from the paper stunned. "Are you certain?" Kathleena nodded with a sad smile. She would gladly face any repercussions if she could somehow ease the child's torment. "It says, cherie, that your sister will delay her trip. She wants to help you pick out your first pony."
Jolted from her reverie by a bump on the tracks, Kathleena could still hear little screams of delight, still feel tight hugs and kisses, still see the smile of happiness as Charlotte chose a striking Andalusian filly.
"Merci Kathleena! Merci. Je t'aime!"
She was so very glad she'd stayed to witness the child's pleasure. Smiling with remembrance at her little sister's words of love, the Frenchwoman suddenly tensed as a man's hand fell firmly on her shoulder. (Duncan!) Kathleena shook herself. No, no of course not. Staring straight ahead, she pulled a writing slate and chalk pencil out from under her cloak.
'Yes?'
The conductor frowned as he looked upon her with deep pity. Such a lovely young woman - how awful it must be to live with such a terrible burden. Kathleena's blue eyes snapped in fury.
"I'm sorry to startle you, miss, but I was wondering if you would like something from the meal basket since I'd noticed you hadn't gone into the dining car this evening."
She quickly scrawled the words 'coffee and apple,' wishing for the odious man to leave as soon as possible. Before moving on to other passengers he paused at the sound of her fingers tapping against the slate, his attention drawn to new words she had scribed there. 'How long until we arrive at the station?'
Pulling the timepiece from his pocket he replied, "Barring any delays, we should arrive a little after dusk." Kathleena nodded curtly in thanks.
As the man tipped his cap and moved on down the aisle, he felt a sudden urge to gaze upon her. The moment the young woman boarded, she was a complete mystery to him. Not only was she forever silent, she never looked up when he or others addressed her. He wondered at the color of her eyes. Were they a soft blue? A deep green perhaps? Quickly turning about, he immediately frowned in deep disappointment. Her head was lowered as she began to read a book placed in her lap. As she daintily munched her apple, Kathleena watched the conductor through a curtain of thick hair. Breathing in relief, she relaxed as he turned away with a shrug, going on with his duties.
She was, of course, aware of his intentions the moment he touched her. Always on her guard, for if she was to look upon a man, any man, Duncan was surely certain to make that mistake the last one she would ever see. Kathleena shuddered at the horrifying thought.
Several hours later, the shrill sound of the train whistle blasted and the powerful engine slowly chugged to a stop with a deafening hiss of steam. Kathleena stared out at the sign illuminated by the gas lights placed on either side.
Welcome to Pennsylvania. The village of Lancaster.
Rising slowly, her stiff muscles screamed in protest. After spending nearly three months aboard the prestigious ship, Acadia and another riding the rails from the village of Bangor, Maine to her final destination, the journey from France had been a long one and Kathleena was truly pleased it was finally over.
With a deep cleansing breath, the young woman debarked and stepped into the chilly night air. Gathering her warm cloak more tightly about her, she spotted a cozy inn and smiled. It looked welcoming enough. Deciding that it would be better to wait until morning to pay a visit on her possible benefactors, she strode across the street and entered the lobby, heading directly to the registration clerk. Looking upon no man, she was completely ignorant to several pairs of eyes devouring her petite form.
Rapping the desk with her knuckles, the man stared at Kathleena. "May I help you, Miss?"
At her gesture to write, he handed her a sheaf of paper and an inkwell, looking on curiously as she scratched some words. 'I need a room for the night. I needs also board my horse and fetch my luggage. Both are at the station.'
Nodding, he rang for the bellhop. "Front!"
A young man quickly appeared beside her and Kathleena shook her head. Were there no women here to serve her? Damning her own stubbornness, she wondered if she'd made a mistake having not hired help. Quickly, she realized that was impossible…'
Remember, with enough money, even your closest friend will betray you.'
With a silent growl of exasperation, Kathleena knew she must forge on alone. (No, I can trust no one. Damn you, Duncan!)
"Derek, you'll find this young lady's horse at the station. Deliver the animal to the livery and then retrieve her belongings."
The teenager smirked as he blatantly ogled her. "I'll need your papers, Miss." Handing him the necessary documents, Kathleena's hand accidentally brushed his. Inhaling deeply in outrage, her eyes narrowed ferociously.
(How dare you!)
A beautiful woman travelling alone with no servant to assist her, the young man presumed she was nothing more than an uncommonly beautiful streetwalker. Affronted, she turned away. Derek shrugged and strode off to begin his duties. The clerk cleared his throat, gesturing her toward a ledger. As she signed, Kathleena was unaware of the striking gentleman sitting in the corner, staring at her over the edge of his turned down newspaper, with a gaze, intense, dark and haunted. A gaze that had trailed her from the moment she'd entered.
Why? he wondered as a slight frown touched his gaunt and chiseled features.
Reading the name the clerk exchanged a furtive glance with a burly man standing by the fire. So, she was the one. "I shall send the boy up with your luggage when he returns, Miss Tell."
Taking the key from his outstretched hand, Kathleena closed her eyes and trembled in sudden fear. (Mon Dieu, already?) With abject misery, she realized Duncan was correct. No matter where she went or how far she traveled, there truly was no escape. With a silent cry, the Frenchwoman slowly ascended the stairs. Closing the door, she rested against its smooth surface, a tear sliding down her cheek. How many of his men would she encounter? How many?
Exhausted and dejected, she shed her wrap. Finding the room stuffy, Kathleena flung open the doors that led out onto the balcony despite the chill of the night. Immediately she collapsed across the bed and closed her eyes completely unaware of the dark, penetrating gaze now fixated on her.
The gaunt gentleman from the lobby stood on the veranda just outside her room. Leaning on his wolf's head cane, he watched her as she dozed restlessly. Something was to happen to her this night. What, he wasn't certain, but something. He'd felt it the moment he saw her. Scowling darkly, he asked himself why he was here. Why he cared? She wasn't his concern. Perhaps, he was merely discontented; having arrived several days before his pressing business venture or, perhaps, his gallant nature would not allow him to simply walk away. He stared at her closely, at the neckerchief shielding her throat from his intense scrutiny.
He could feel it well deep inside.
Hungry…Hungry... As he was about to step forward, a loud knock sounded on the door. Growling low, he retreated into the dark shadows of night. Watching...waiting...
"Miss Tell? Miss Tell, it's me, Derek. I've brought your luggage."
Stirred from sleep with his constant drumming, Kathleena frowned. (Leave them and be off you fool!)
The man on the balcony smiled, baring gleaming white teeth.
"Miss Tell, please. I'm unsure I've collected the correct bags."
Smacking her hand against her forehead, Kathleena silently snarled. (How incompetent! You sir, are not a fool but an ass!) Suddenly she froze as a soft chuckle, warm and deep sounded from the direction of the windows. Smothering a yawn, the Frenchwoman shook her head assuming her state of exhaustion was playing tricks on her mind. Certain no sleep would be had until she faced the rude man, she turned the key in the lock and the door immediately burst open.
"Good job, Derek," a dark voice growled from behind the bellhop. "Now get outta here!"
From the balcony, he tensed like a cobra, ready to strike. The frightened woman raised her hands to ward off the big man as he marched inside and bolted the door, his hot gaze raking over her nastily. "Ya know why I'm here, don't ya?" he said, with a leering grin.
Nodding, Kathleena was certain she did. As she turned her head away, the man in the shadows could see her beautiful blue eyes, eyes filled with terror. (But I've done nothing wrong! Nothing to deserve punishment…I have followed every order!) This man was here to harm her and she hadn't the power to plead for her life. (Mon Dieu) she prayed. (Allow me to speak…Just once…)
Turning toward the writing desk now digging painfully into her hip, Kathleena hastily scribed a note and handed it to the threatening man, mistakenly closing the space between them. Her heart sank as he hooted and wadded her unread words tossing them into the fire.
"That ain't gonna work with me, sister, I cain't read." She paled, knowing she had to elude him, had to reach the door. He caught her easily as she ran past. "Nuh-uh, honey, yer stayin' right here." As she struggled against him trying to free herself, he guffawed. "Ya sure are a feisty one, ain't ya?" Clutching her waist in his huge hands; he tossed her onto the bed so hard she bounced, knocking the air from her lungs. "Good. I love me a challenge." Closing her eyes tightly, Kathleena shook as intense images flashed before her. This man planned to rape her viciously and there was naught she could do!
The gaunt man in the shadows clenched his teeth, feeling them lengthen along with his fury. He could take no more… Just wait… he cautioned himself. Wait...
Dropping heavily on top of her, the man's brutal mouth struggled to assault hers, his hands savagely tearing at her bodice. Tears poured from beneath closed lashes. (No Dear God! Noooo!)
Suddenly the frantic rape-minded cretin stilled above her. Stunned, blue eyes flew open, their gaze trained upon the pale hand wrapped tightly about her attacker's throat; a black stoned ring glittered brightly from the forefinger. The ruffian was easily torn from her and Kathleena, finally free leapt from the bed. She watched on in horror as the big brute was heaved over the balustrade with inhuman force. Seconds later a loud pop broke the silence, the man's neck snapping as he landed on the cobble stone street below.
Desparation and shock finally consumed her as Kathleena staggered toward the bed and sank to the floor. Wrapping her arms about herself she shivered at the thought of what would assuredly have happened if...
"He can no longer harm you."
Kathleena started at the sound of a heavily English accented voice. A voice that seemed so gentle, so full of concern. Suddenly she froze with a startling realization. She actually yearned to look up at him, to thank him for saving her virtue. Completely aware the vile consequences such an action would bring she gasped airly. (Mon Dieu! What am I thinking?!)
Without another word, her mysterious savior walked away and for reasons she herself did not understand, Kathleena frowned at his abrupt departure. Completely unaware of the tall slim silhouette standing in the shadows of her terrace; large fingers wrapped firmly around the handle of his walking stick.
Inexplicably, wolves began to bay in the distance and glancing sadly over his shoulder he shook his head. No matter the place, no matter the time they knew, always knew when his craving was pressing heavily upon him. Swiftly, a gaze darkened with need returned to the woman as she slowly pulled herself from the floor.
Hearing the howls herself, Kathleena knew that the only thing she had to look forward to was another sleepless night. She placed a trembling hand to her temple. (Perfect!)
Retreating further into the safety of the darkness, he watched as the young woman began to pace, pausing only after she caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked absolutely horrendous. Shedding her mutilated gown, Kathleena stepped closer to her reflection, unknowingly giving the man an unobstructed view of her delicate body clad in nothing but a flimsy shift and stockings tied about slim thighs with simple bows.
Inhaling sharply in surprise, he began to feel long crushed sensations stir within him. Although he frowned at his dark thoughts of disloyalty, he found he could not force himself to turn from the vision of loveliness so blatantly offered.
Perversely, Kathleena pulled away the material from her throat and glared at her image. These many weeks of travel had healed her hurts, only to leave a gruesome scar as a reminder of her anguish. Mon dieu. Duncan was right... She was a freak! As tears of pain and defeat slid down her face, she ran to the mantle, clutched a heavy candlestick and flung it angrily into her reflection. The smashing of glass sounded like a gunshot in the otherwise silent room. (imbécile!) Bending down to pick up the damage she'd caused, Kathleena gasped and quickly pulled her hand away, having jabbed herself on a pointed shard of mirror.
Perceptively, dark eyes narrowed, pupils dilate as his gaze obsessed on the large red drop that welled on her flesh. Left unstaunched, he followed the trail of blood down to her wrist. Large fingers tightly seized the wolf head handle of his cane and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply the sweet scent of her essence. Unconsciously, an icy tongue ran over cold lips in anticipation. She would taste exquisite. Stepping forward pure shock crossed his thin features. He found he could not take her!
What the hell? His hunger was more important than anything else. Nothing mattered more! Why should he care what she'd been through tonight? She meant absolutely nothing to him. As the wolves' distant howls now turned ferocious, he growled, reluctantly hurrying off in search of what he craved, what he desperately needed. Below, a crowd began to gather around the dead man lying in the street.
Standing in the shadows across from the saloon desire and need heightened his senses. A penetrating gaze fixated on the lone patron; a curvaceous blonde scantily dressed. Concentrating on her every move, he watched intently as she staggered up to the counter. Raising his brows, his dark eyes glittered brightly in the moonlight. Yes... yes…she'll do… She must! he thought, stepping back into the blackness of the alley.
"C'mon Sadie," the bartender complained as he wiped out the last of the glasses. "Closing time."
Placing a hand on the man's arm she leaned into him, her eyes rheumy with the booze she had swilled. "Aw, just one more Clancy, huh?"
He shook his head. "Nothing doing. You're stewed. Besides, you know the rules. Closing time is closing time. Go sleep it off. I'll see you tomorrow."
Snatching her bag angrily from the bar, the whore clutched it to her massive breasts and tottered out into the dark street. Sighing, she realized it had been an altogether disappointing night. Doing more drinking than she'd intended, Sadie knew she would have nothing more to show for it but a terrible headache in the morning. As she stumbled between two brick buildings toward her room over the restaurant the fog quickly rolled in, thick and cold.
Drawing her wrap tightly about her curves, she saw him under the gas street lamp. Her wavering eyes narrowed. T'was a gentleman, to be sure. Tall and gaunt; a smart looking inverness cape draped over his shoulders. If she were back in jolly ole England, she'd swear she was looking at a bloomin' member of the royal family. Greedily, her gaze fell to the ring drawing her closer like a beacon in the light. Ahh, the bloke was loaded. "Looks like yer luck's about ta change, Sadie ole gal," she whispered.
Watching her saunter up to him trying to seduce, his fists clenched and unclenched with each step she took. He groaned, nearly wild with need. Noticing that hunger, that unmistakable lust in his gaze, the woman smiled. This was going to be easier than she'd hoped. Lifting a hand to the hollow pocket of his cheek, she licked her painted lips. "Would ye be lookin' for some company ta'night, luv?" she said huskily, her voice dripping with false desire. Pressing herself deeply into him, Sadie was certain he could feel her nipples hardened from the cold night air. "I 'ave a place ready an' waitin'."
Growling quietly, his piercing gaze narrowed as he watched the pulse pound madly in her throat. A sexual tryst was not what he was after. No, not at all! As quick as a viper, large icy fingers clutched her wrist dragging her with him into the seclusion of the darkened alleyway. She was forced to run to keep pace with his giant desperate strides. His all consuming need taking complete control, he spun her around slamming her face first against the coldness of the brick wall.
"Easy luv," she whined. "I know some of ye like it rough but 'tis a new dress." Ignored, she felt him press himself firmly against her back and now, with his hips against her, Sadie frowned. He wasn't in the least bit randy for her. Her blonde brow furrowed as he quickly brushed the hair away from the nape of her neck. Kissing her warm skin with his icy lips, he felt uncontrollable shivers course through her body. Unable to deny the urge a moment longer, a firm hand covered her mouth and the woman lurched up as a sharp pain engulfed her soft flesh. Feeling her spiral, a strong arm wound tightly about her waist and together they slid to the ground.
Eyes closed, he drank deeply and steadily; his loud swallows the only sound in the empty night. Suddenly, unwanted thoughts invaded his mind. Thoughts of a beautiful woman with stunning blue eyes. Instinctively he knew this whore wouldn't remotely compare to her delicious taste. Forcing the image away he focused again on his need. When sated, he removed his mark from the streetwalker's flesh and, as was his habit, fingers fell to the woman's pulse. Fast and steady. She would live... they always did. He was certain never to take more than was necessary to survive.
After the feed, as always, his guilt was ferocious. "Damn you Angelique, you bitch!" he growled, as thoughts turned to the sorceress who, using a jealous fueled spell, compelled him to commit this unspeakable act. He spotted the woman's pocketbook lying on the ground and, opening the clip, tossed something inside. Retreating to the shadows he watched, waiting until she slowly regained her wits.
"Are you all right, Miss?"
Startled, Sadie looked up and found herself immediately drawn to the handsome stranger's deep stare. Placing her fingertips to her head, she trembled. "Aye. Thank ye, luv. 'Tis very odd…I don't know what coulda 'appened."
"Perhaps you should see a doctor," he suggested knowing that had she followed his advice, the man would be just as mystified. The blonde shook her head and accepted the gentleman's proffered hand, grateful for his assistance. Her head still spinning, a fine drizzle began to fall and the cobblestones were now as slick as ice.
"No, please. I'll be a'right. Yer very kind ta worry. Most blokes wouldn't give a passin' glance to someone like me, unless-" Letting her voice trail off she leaned against his chest with a genuine smile. They walked in silence to the end of the dark passageway. Looking up at the brick edifice, she paused. "Ahh, 'ome sweet 'ome." Grabbing the key from under the mat, she unlocked the door. "Would ye care ta come in, luv? I promise ta make it worth yer while."
At his curious silence the whore turned, immediately drawn into the glowing depths of burning eyes. "You will remember nothing of this," he whispered, his voice deeply hypnotic, "You were at the tavern and now you are home. We've never met. Do you understand?"
With a slow nod she answered, trancelike, "Aye gov, I understand."
As he strolled away Sadie jolted, astonished to find herself standing alone in the cold mist. Unable to recollect leaving the saloon, she shook her head. I must be more sloshed then I thought. With a sigh, she reached into her bag; her brow creasing in confusion as a hand brushed against something unfamiliar. Slowly, she pulled out a roll of bills. Holding more money than she'd ever seen in her life, her shrill scream of delight brought a ghost of a sad smile to his blood tinged lips.