Mammon Read Online Free PDF Page B

the boss’s stateroom? Thanks.’
    She released the button and staggered forward. ‘May I lay the shirts down, sir?’
    â€˜And let them get rumpled and dirty? Absolutely not. Stay where you are.’
    A light tapping and a tall, slender boy entered the room. The maid gave him a sympathetic smile. Poor lad. First time to sea and he was about to get a kicking.
    Halphas eyed the boy. ‘Where is the ivory silk shirt that was brought aboard?’
    William bit his lip. ‘I don’t know.’
    â€˜You brought the clothing yourself. I remember showing it to you, telling you it was one of Master’s favourites, urging you to take care with it. Master wants to wear it tonight. So, I repeat, where is the shirt?’
    â€˜What brand was it? Maybe I can remember . . .’ the boy stammered.
    Halphas sneered. ‘It was no brand – Master’s clothes are all tailored! Now, I ask you for the last time – where is the shirt?’
    â€˜I don’t think we have it.’
    â€˜What do you mean by that?’
    â€˜I mean . . .’ William cast a nervous look at the maid. ‘I think it’s ruined.’
    â€˜What?’ Halphas wore a look of horror. ‘Where is it?’
    â€˜I’ll show you, sir.’
    They made their way downstairs to the bowels of the yacht and the cramped service areas. The smell of pine filled the air as they passed a kitchen hand squeezing out a mop. Then they entered the oppressive moisture of the laundry, where a row of neatly dressed women folded tablecloths and napkins. No heads were raised on Halphas’s entry. He shoved William through the door; the boy tripped and caught his balance on a benchtop.
    â€˜Show me,’ Halphas hissed.
    With a forlorn limp, William moved across to a row of wastepaper bins. Silently, he reached in and fished out a crumpled piece of fabric.
    Halphas snatched the garment and held it up. Patched across the fine fabric in the centre was an iron stain. Several small holes punctured the fabric. He turned and gave the boy a long, piercing stare. ‘You don’t iron this, you idiot!’ With the destroyed shirt in one hand, he grabbed William and shoved him towards the door. ‘You’re going to account for this yourself, with Master.’
    Mammon was waiting in his dressing room when Halphas pushed the boy through the door.
    â€˜Why aren’t my clothes laid out, Halphas?’ Mammon stood in front of a full-length mirror. The carpet was soaked; he’d folded a towel around his waist and now stood, dripping, gazing at his reflection. He’d chosen well this time. A worthy vessel. Dark hair played across his forehead in a gentle wave. Skin that glowed with an olive warmth meant that he never looked tired or ill. A panther-like sensuality, a sexual confidence that simultaneously frightened and aroused those around him. Of course, it was his Shadow, his glorious essence that gave the body such alluring energy.
    His eyes drifted to the old man, watching him in the mirror with a tense expression. To the boy, to the ruined shirt. ‘What’s this?’
    Halphas shoved William forward. ‘This boy burned your shirt, Master. The fool tried to iron it.’
    â€˜Did he?’ Mammon drew a deep breath. ‘And do I have another like it?’ He took a handful of pomade and smoothed back his hair.
    Halphas nudged the boy. ‘Answer him.’
    â€˜No, sir,’ William stammered.
    â€˜Mmm. That’s disappointing!’ Mammon walked over and patted the boy’s shoulder. ‘You need to learn how to do your job better, son.’
    William held his breath; his heart pounded. He let Mammon walk him out onto the deck. ‘I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.’
    Halphas waited, his eyes glinting with the anticipation.
    â€˜Mmm.’ Mammon drew back and regarded the boy. ‘Well, would you be careful in future?’
    William breathed out. ‘Yes,