A Wild Yearning Read Online Free PDF Page A

against her neck.
    "God Almighty, Priscilla, shut up. Do you want to wake all of Boston? Who in hell are you?"
    It took Delia a moment to realize this last was addressed to her. When she didn't answer right away, he pressed the blade of the knife closer to her throat, nicking the skin.
    "Who are you?" he said again, in a voice so cold and hard it rose the hairs on the back of Delia's neck.
    "Please... don't kill me," she said, fear pitching her normally husky voice even lower.
    The woman had gone blessedly silent, but now she let out a hysterical laugh. "Why, Ty, it's only a boy."
    "I'm no boy!" Delia protested. Realizing the knife was no longer poised to slit her throat, she sat up, huffing with indignation. But when she started to get off the bed, a strong hand held her in place, pressing down on her shoulder.
    "You stay right where you are.... Pris, fetch the lamp in here." The woman hesitated until the man said sternly, "Priscilla..." Then she glided from the room in a swish of skirts.
    The man moved away from the bed, turning his back to pull up his breeches and button the front flap. Delia thought how she had sat crouched in silence, watching, watching that woman touching him, that intimate part of him, so boldly... She almost groaned aloud from the shame.
    It suddenly seemed very quiet in the room, so quiet Delia could hear a clock ticking somewhere. She thought she should probably say something, perhaps introduce herself, but "How d' ye do, Dr. Savitch" didn't seem appropriate given the circumstances. She wondered what a real lady would do in this situation, but then, she thought despairingly, a real lady would hardly have gotten herself into this mess.
    The woman returned, carrying the betty lamp. She, too, had taken the time to straighten her clothing. It was expensive clothing. A moss-green satin petticoat fell over a small farthingale, and on top of it was a silver-brocade overskirt looped up on each side to draw attention to her hips. Pearly breasts rose from the low, lace-edged neckline of a richly embroidered bodice frosted with rows of gathered lace. The elegant ensemble was topped by a lofty headdress of a spangled turban mounted with ostrich feathers.
    Gold hair and blue eyes, and fair, fair skin, with a single tiny, heart-shaped silk patch at one corner of her full mouth— oh, she was undeniably beautiful. But she was older than Delia had expected. Why, Delia thought with shock, she had to be close to thirty.
    She was also unlike any whore Delia had ever seen before, certainly unlike the harlots who plied their trade at the Frisky Lyon and other such grog shops on the waterfront.
    The woman set the lamp on a nearby chest. Delia, sprawled on the bed while they both stood looking down at her, felt at a decided disadvantage. She lifted her head and stared defiantly back at them, although inside she was wishing herself in a deep, deep hole somewhere on the other side of the world.
    The woman wrinkled her dainty nose. "Really, Ty, I thought you had better taste."
    "I assure you, Pris, I've never seen the wench before in my life."
    Delia stared at his face. His darkly handsome features were finely cast, with a thin, straight nose, square jaw, and sharp cheekbones. Though his buff breeches and ruffled lawn shirt bespoke the gentleman, he was not wearing a wig. His thick hair was a rich, dark brown, and he wore it tied back with a simple riband. His black eyes glittered at Delia from beneath slightly flaring brows. She felt ensnared by those dark eyes though, strangely, she was not afraid...
    Priscilla's strident voice broke the spell. "Perhaps I should leave."
    "Yes. I think you should," he said.
    This obviously was not what Priscilla wanted to hear. "Well, then... Stevens can certainly see me safely home in the shay," she said stiffly. "Don't bother showing me to the door."
    Yet she stood still for a moment longer, looking at her man look at Delia, then she turned on her heel and marched from the room.
    "You stay