A Precious Jewel Read Online Free PDF Page B

again on the bed.
    “Who did this to you?” he asked, touching her jaw with a light knuckle.
    She drew back her head. “It was an accident, sir,” she said, smiling at him. “An unfortunate collision of heads.”
    “Who did it?” he asked.
    She licked her lips nervously. “I am not allowed to discuss any client with another, sir,” she said.
    “He struck you?” he said, and waited for her answer though it was a long time coming.
    “Yes,” she said at last.
    “Why?” he asked, raising her chin with one hand and looking more closely at her bruised and swollen jaw.
    “I displeased him,” she said.
    “You, Priss?” he said. “You displeased someone? Impossible. Why did he do it?”
    “What he wanted was against the rules,” she said. “He hit me when I refused.”
    “And then?” She watched his jaw tighten as he clamped his teeth together.
    “I did what he wanted,” she said in a whisper.
    He turned and strode from her room, banging the door behind him.
    Priscilla lowered her head into her hands and fought the tears that wanted desperately to come.
    Tomorrow she would use the power of her mind to bring herself around again. She had been one of Miss Blythe’s girls, a whore, for almost four months, and really it had not been a nightmare of a life, if she discounted that very first time and this night, first with Mr. Farrow and then with Sir Gerald.
    All the other days and nights had been at least bearable. She had made a workable life for herself. And it would be bearable again in the future. Mr. Farrow would never be allowed near her or any of the other girls again, and she would get used to the idea that she would not see Sir Gerald again. Indeed, it was as well that he had gone. He had gone while it was still possible to pull herself free from a foolish infatuation. Inanother few weeks or months perhaps it would not have been possible at all.
    Except, she thought, giving in to momentary and uncharacteristic depression, that it did not seem at all possible even now.
    She got wearily to her feet and removed her dressing gown again. She had the ritual of cleansing to go through even though Sir Gerald had not released his seed in her.
    He had been her last client for the day, she thought with weary gratitude. It was tempting to forgo the ritual or to shorten it so that she could climb back into the rumpled bed and lose herself in sleep. But she patiently and methodically washed and douched all traces of Sir Gerald Stapleton from her body.
    S IR G ERALD TAPPED on Miss Blythe’s sitting room door since there was no servant in sight to do so for him. He entered at her bidding. She was sitting in her usual place, her spectacles perched on the end of her nose as she peered over them at him, a book open on her lap.
    “Ah, Sir Gerald,” she said. “What a pleasant surprise. Do come in. You have been calling on Prissy?”
    “I want to know who was with her last,” he said grimly.
    Miss Blythe took her spectacles off. “I am afraid that is privileged information, sir,” she said.
    “Then perhaps you should go upstairs and examine the bruise and swelling on her face,” he said, “and the bruise on her thigh.”
    The book slid to the floor as Miss Blythe got to her feet. “Priscilla has been abused?” she said. “She has not complained to me, sir.”
    “Probably because she has been too busy with her duties,” he said. “I did not even notice at first. I was too concerned with my own pleasure, I suppose. I want your assurance, ma’am, that she will never be touched by that man again.”
    “You have it, sir,” she said. “I do not allow my girls to be abused. You should know that. Least of all Prissy.”
    Sir Gerald’s hands clenched at his sides. “The very thought of his laying a hand on her is enough to make me want to commit murder,” he said.
    “It will not happen again, Sir Gerald, I do assure you,” she said firmly. “The matter will be looked to immediately.”
    “She does not have