Sinful Seduction by Kate Benedict

back to reality shame washed over her like a hot tide. She groaned again, this time with humiliation instead of pleasure. Oh, what had she done? Lord Edward was right; she was nothing but a cheap little whore.
    And as if to confirm it he was leering down at her again, his flaccid cock dangling, wet and glistening from his gaping flies. She averted her eyes in sick disgust. Untying her bound wrists he stepped back and watched in contempt as she stumbled to her feet and attempted to make herself decent again.
    â€˜I knew you were a trollop,’ he said triumphantly. ‘And one who enjoys her work into the bargain!’ He reached into his pocket, pulled out a guinea and flung it at her feet. ‘Here,’ he said disdainfully. ‘For services rendered, and worth every penny.’
    Maggie bent and picked it up, determined to fling it back in his face, but his threatening expression stopped her. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he said dangerously. ‘I’ve punished you once. Cross me again and next time it’ll be worse.’ So, suppressing her abhorrence for the man, she tucked the coin into her apron pocket and scurried towards the door.
    â€˜Oh, just one more thing before you go, my dear,’ he said, his voice stopping her on the threshold.
    â€˜Yes, sir?’ she said dully.
    â€˜Have cook send up another pot of tea,’ he ordered. ‘This one seems to have gone cold,’ and his mocking laughter echoed in her ears as she fled.
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    â€˜Where on earth have you been till this time? I thought you’d got lost.’ Mrs McAlister, looking up from whipping a bowl of cream, caught sight of Maggie’s red eyes and white face and almost dropped it. ‘In the name of God, lassie, what’s wrong with you? You look awful.’
    â€˜Just a headache,’ said Maggie. ‘I had to go to the privy and be sick, that’s what took me so long.’ She smiled wanly. ‘I’ll be fine.’
    â€˜You’ll be nothing of the sort,’ said Mrs McAlister firmly. ‘Just you get up those stairs for a wee lie down. We can manage without you for an hour or so.’ She snorted. ‘And if you’re not better by the time her ladyship comes back, then I’m sure young Mary can undo her stays just as well as you can, for once.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Now off you go and no arguing.’
    Too heartsick to argue, Maggie did as she was told. Wearily she crept upstairs to her attic room and closed the door behind her. Collapsing on the bed she buried her head in the thin pillow and wept for her lost innocence - the golden guinea in her pocket a symbol of her shame. Her last thought before she fell into an exhausted sleep was a disturbing one; what had Sir Edward meant by ‘next time’?

Chapter 7
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    â€˜I don’t know what’s wrong with you, lassie,’ scolded Mrs McAlister. ‘I’ve told you three times that her ladyship’s bell’s been ringing and you’ve not taken a blind bit of notice.’ She tutted. ‘You’ve been trailing around in a dwam for I don’t know how long. Now get up those stairs before she takes a fit.’
    Wearily Maggie did as she was told. Mrs McAlister was right; she’d spent the last three weeks on tenterhooks, jumping every time she was spoken to, terrified that Lord Edward would catch her alone and force himself upon her again.
    Even her afternoon off had failed to cheer her. She’d found herself wandering round the same places that she and Jeremy had gone to, miserably remembering how happy they’d been. She shuddered. What would he think of her if he ever found out she’d been enjoyed by his own father? She was soiled goods now, little better than the painted women who plied their trade on Piccadilly. No decent man would have her now.
    Not that he’d be likely to find out, she thought bitterly. After that first letter,