Regency Rogues Omnibus (37 page)

The wooden doors to the dungeon screeched on rusted hinges as they opened, turning his gaze. It had been an hour or more since they had been forced down into the bowels of Valcourt, into this dungeon and these cells, and now, Alexei had arrived. Next to Alexei was a small Asian man and behind them were two of Alexei’s Russian guards.

“It is me you want, Alexei!” Wyndham shouted. “Then take me! I will not fight you any longer.”

“No!” Orelan cried from her cell, but Wyndham could not see her, as she cowered against the sidewall of her cell.

“Silence!” Alexei shouted. “I will not have your sickening displays of love!” Wyndham watched Alexei turn to him at the same moment he waved the guards to Orelan’s cell, while he said, “It is not time, Khrisinan, for you to surrender to me yet.”

Wyndham’s jaw tightened, Alexei appeared disheveled and distraught. He looked edgy, as though he were cornered with no escape. Yet, that made no sense and Wyndham had a hard time believing Alexei’s behavior was strictly over jealousy.

“I will consider it,” Alexei continued, turning to watch Orelan, who was being forced naked from her cell between the guards. “But my revenge first! I will have my revenge!”

“No!” Wyndham shouted, even as the guards lifted Orelan, who struggled against their strength, up onto a wooden circular slab raised in the center of the room. She never cried out as she fought them, but she did fight them, with terrified whimpers when the guards began to tie her spread eagle onto her back.

“I will come to you willingly!” Wyndham shouted with desperation. “If you do this to her, I will
fight
you to my last breath!” Wyndham watched Alexei turn his fevered gaze to him as Orelan screamed a muffled sound of denial through the gag that the guards had put over her mouth.

“We will see what you might do when I am finished,” Alexei said, eerily calm. “The final game has just begun,” he finished.

Alexei was not making any sense,
Wyndham thought, trying to quell his rising panic as he watched the small Asian man move to stand at Orelan’s feet.

“Shave the slut, Quay,” Alexei ordered in a sickeningly soft voice as Orelan whimpered. Wyndham sucked in a tight breath as Alexei turned his gaze to him, and he hissed, “One half a marker for this, Khrisinan.”

Wyndham could not help the hatred unmasked from his gaze as he glared at Alexei, and he spat. “I will
never
forgive you for this!”

“We will see,” Alexei whispered, then in a sharper voice he said, “You have lied to me about this slut, Khrisinan, yet I am still being fair. Two and one half markers, you still owe me.”

Wyndham clenched the bars as he watched the Asian, named Quay, unrolling a leather pouch of instruments between Orelan’s feet. Wyndham squinted his eyes to see, as Quay chose a straight razor, lifting it from the pouch. It was then Wyndham realized that the rest of the instruments he saw were for skin tattooing.
Christ,
he nearly fell to his knees in relief, but he clutched the bars holding himself upright. Alexei was going to brand Orelan, but he was
not
going to kill her.

Orelan looked fearfully at the small Asian man Alexei had called Quay, as Quay brought forward a bowl of water, a sponge, and a cake of soap to set beside her hip. Quay, lathered the sponge with the soap as he looked down at her exposed sex, and it was then, she finally realized what he meant to do, at Alexei’s command. She struggled then, against the ropes holding her ankles and wrists splayed wide across the wooden slab, as Quay lifted the wetly lathered sponge toward her pubic curls.

“Lay still,” Wyndham ordered her from his cell, and she heard Alexei laugh harshly as Wyndham continued to say, “He will cut you, if you do not lay still.”

Orelan sucked in a terrified breath as Quay touched her sex with the wet sponge. The position she was tied in was debased and she squirmed in humiliation as Quay scrubbed her sex with the soapy sponge.

“Look her nipples are hard,” Alexei quipped, and the guards laughed.

Orelan moaned in shame, and then she heard Wyndham shout, “I love you, Orelan! Do you hear me? I love you!”

“Silence!” Alexei shouted as Orelan closed her eyes to the sound of Wyndham’s words. Love was their strength and power, she realized. She must be brave for Wyndham. She had to be brave for their love, and she was able to stop her struggling then as she opened her eyes and saw Quay bringing the straight razor forward. Quay touched her as only one man had ever done as he began to shave her pubic hair away, while tears she could not stop leaked from her eyes. But she did not struggle again she only trembled and prayed for it to be over.

“Bravo!” Alexei exclaimed when the shaving was finished, and then, Orelan saw Alexei clamping his hand onto Quay’s shoulder as he said, “Now tattoo her the way I told you.”

The word tattoo raced through Orelan’s mind like a fiery blaze.
No, madre dios, no!
She tried desperately to turn her head to see Wyndham, but she could not from where she was tied.

“You are a sick bastard!” Wyndham shouted.

“Oh, Khrisinan, you do not approve of my method of revenge for your slut?” Alexei asked snidely. “I thought it was inspirational. Just wait to see what Quay is going to brand on your bitch, Lord Hawkenge.”

Orelan felt Quay’s fingers touching the slit of her sex and she gasped, jerking her body. Then she screamed silently at herself to lay still. She had to lay still! Quay’s finger lifted one lip as she quivered, trying to lie still, but then a sharp striking pain came in the tenderest place on her body. She screamed. She could not lay still! The pain struck again, and she gasped another involuntary scream beneath the gag. But the gag was cloying and she could not get enough air into her lungs as the pain of the tattooing relentlessly continued.

“It is done!” Alexei exclaimed and Orelan jerked.
She must have passed out?
“Another half a marker,” Alexei continued, “And that makes one marker, Khrisinan. So now you only owe me two!”

Orelan moaned as she felt her ankles being untied. Her sex throbbed unbearably, then the gag was pulled from her mouth and more hands were at her wrists untying those also.

Wyndham watched Alexei turn toward him, Alexei’s light blue eyes had a feverish quality, but there was an unexpected sadness in them. “I will give her to the guards for the last two markers,” Alexei said.

“No!” Wyndham shouted. “No, Alexei, my God, I am begging you!”

Alexei hissed a sharp intake of breath. “You see, Khrisinan, I knew you would come to me willingly in the end!”

“Yes!” Wyndham exclaimed tightly, at the same moment Orelan cried out her denial

“No, Wyndham! No, you must not do this. No, I will not let you!”

“Take her away from here!” Alexei shouted angrily. “Take her-,” Alexei turned to Wyndham.

“To the Royal Hotel,” Wyndham expelled. “To Lord Sutherlin.”

“No! No!” Orelan cried as the guards dragged her from the room.

“You see, Khrisinan,” Alexei whispered. “I always knew that you had an escape plan. Ever the consummate spy, my handsome man.”

Chapter Thirteen

It was a macabre position,
Wyndham thought, he could not be absolutely certain that Alexei had freed Orelan. Yet, in some twisted fashion Alexei was honorable in his own way. For that, and the gut feeling he had that Alexei was done with Orelan, he believed him. Now, he wondered, how noble he should remain. The two guards still held him as a prisoner with their rifles, forcing him to follow Alexei, in the direction of Alexei’s suite.

At least Alexei had ordered the guards to give him a pair of pants. It was so unexpectedly chivalrous of Alexei, Wyndham thought, with his head bowed and his jaw clenched into square hardness. He was seething as he walked between the guards and it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to grapple with the guards, in an attempt to gain an opening to fall upon Alexei with his bare hands. He might never have realized how wholly possessive he was, he thought, if not for what had been perpetrated on Orelan.

Suddenly, half a dozen sharp explosions sounded in the distance. Wyndham’s head lifted as he recognized the sound of gunfire, while his gaze found Alexei’s back, just as Alexei was opening the door to his suite. Alexei never turned at the sound of the gunfire, his head cocked to the side, but he continued into the suite. “Bring him inside!” Alexei ordered.

“What is happening?” Wyndham asked, as the guards roughly shoved him into the suite.

More gunfire sounded, this time closer, as Alexei ignored his question and ordered, “Guards, leave him here, and take up your posts outside the doors!”

Wyndham was surprised to be released alone into Alexei’s company, as both guards, appearing suddenly nervous and furtive, fairly bolted to the doors. The doors slammed shut and the distinct sound of booted feet running away could be heard.

“It is impossible to bribe truly loyal help these days,” Alexei snapped, as he continued to walk further into the suite.

Wyndham looked at the door hearing more gunfire, closer still, perhaps only one floor down from where he stood, then he turned his gaze to Alexei’s retreating back. His mind was working quickly as he gauged all the possibilities of what could be happening, of whether he should just walk out, away from Alexei without the guards’ presence, when Alexei spoke.

“Two markers, Khrisinan. You begged me, Wyndham, remember this? How noble are you?”

Wyndham’s tightly held anger exploded then, and all constructive thought about his situation dissolved. “Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, Tropov, you sick bastard?” he challenged senselessly.

“Yes,”
Alexei hissed, turning toward him. “You owe me two markers and your woman’s life!”

Alexei appeared nearly wild-eyed as Wyndham clenched his fists at his side and he spat. “Fuck your markers, Tropov!” He turned toward the door. “And fuck you!” he finished crassly.

“No!” Alexei wailed behind him. “You owe me, Wyndham! You owe me!”

Wyndham’s hand closed around the doorknob, but before he could open it, the door was shoved open forcefully, toppling him backward. His bad knee could not hold to this and it collapsed, taking him bodily to the floor onto his side.

“Alexei Tropov!” a voice heavily accented in Russian, shouted above Wyndham’s head. “You are under arrest for treasonous acts! To be beheaded by the Czar’s court! Take him!”

Beheaded?
Wyndham lifted his gaze to Alexei’s, who was being circled by the Russian soldiers. “Who is this man?” the leader asked sharply, pointing to Wyndham.

“He is just my lover!” Alexei exclaimed.

The leader of the Russian soldiers looked down on Wyndham with disgust, then abruptly spit on his leg, pronouncing, “Cunt!” Then he ordered, “Leave this one and bring the prisoner, Tropov!”

Chapter Fourteen

Orelan cried out as one of Alexei’s burly guards shoved her out of the carriage. She landed on the brick street on her hands and knees, because the carriage had not completely stopped, and was even now racing away from the scene. Yet, she did not care about the rough treatment. She was more relieved to have at least a cloak to hide her complete nakedness. The blood on her palms from scraping the rough bricks was nothing compared to the last thirty minutes she had spent traveling inside the carriage, while she wondered if the guards would rape her. The entire time, she agonized over whether the guards would follow Alexei’s orders or perhaps ease their burden by just killing her.

But much more than that, in each harrowing half second of time, she suffered agony about what Wyndham had done. What he must be doing at the moment for her release. On one barely coherent level of her mind, she realized that insanity rested in those thoughts. It was nearly too much to bear, yet she kept hearing Wyndham’s voice whispering to her. “Be brave, spitfire. Be as brave as I know you can be.”

“Yes,” she gasped, lifting her head from where she knelt on the dirty bricks of the street, to see the Royal Hotel across the street. Wyndham’s friend was there. She knew him, Lord Sutherlin. He was also a spy. Orelan wobbled to stand upright on her bare feet, and then she grasped the cloak tightly around her body, leaving blood on the woolen material. The footmen outside the grand hotel would never let her inside appearing as she did. She lifted her chin. But they would take a message inside for her.

The footman was reluctant, yet he relented when he realized that she would only leave her stance by force, thereby creating a scene. She realized how horrible she must appear with her long hair matted in tangles and her face ravaged by too many tears. Her embarrassment was acute, as finely dressed patrons of the hotel whisked up the entryway’s red carpet, trying not to let their dignified gazes settle on her. She stood bravely, shivering on her bare feet, yet it was too much when one gentleman arriving alone did not avert his gaze distastefully, but made a point to leer at her. That blatant lecherous speculation sent her fleeing to the side of the ponderous building, to hold her breath against the possibility of the gentleman following her. He did not, and she collapsed against the side of the building, shaking. Her bare feet were so cold and she was still so afraid.