Mystic Mountains

her arms above her head with one hand he ripped her apron off then tore the fronts of her bodice apart. Dribble from his lax mouth splashed onto her bared skin as her breasts fell free, exposed to his greedy eyes.
    "Oh gawd, what a sight for a poor sod's eyes!" His scrawny Adam's apple bobbed rapidly as he swallowed.
    "They 've taken him off. They're gonna have sport with him afore they kill 'im, Malloy. Don't you care if them sods use your boy." The woman sounded indifferent.
    Isabella saw the indecision drift over his eyes as he mouthed a string of vile curses. "Saints preserve us. The silly sod deserves all he gets. Why? Why, does this have to happen to me?"
    With a new burst of energy Isabella brought her knee up again. "Scum," she yelled, as she caught his swollen cock.
    He flinched, swea ring viciously. Isabella saw his fist coming at her in a mighty swipe.
    As it connected with the side of her face she saw bright lights, then slid down a dark tunnel into merciful blackness.

 
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Isabella tasted blood as she moved her tongue over tinder-dry lips. Groaning, she shifted as far as she could before she came up against her bonds.
    Dear God! Her arms were tied above her head to the rail at the top of the bed. Worse, her legs were spread, one ankle tied to each corner at its base.
    With a moan of pain she wiggled her hips a bout. Her tattered petticoat lay in a corner where Malloy had thrown it, and her skirt was still bunched about her waist. Vainly she tried to cover her exposed body by arching her middle, straining to toss the cloth over herself.
    Had he raped her before he left? She didn 't feel sore down there, so sent up a prayer as tears slid down her cheeks. Malloy must have decided his son was more important than abusing her. For the moment. But he would be back to finish what he'd started. Sobbing, she craned her neck towards the tiny window where cobwebs dangled like tattered curtains.
    It was still daylight, but she had no idea of the time. The street outside was alive with the raucous sounds, but from what she 'd heard since arriving in the colony this area was renowned for its never-ending round of sinful happenings.
    What was she going to do? She struggle d with her bindings, but only succeeded in ripping more skin off her wrists and ankles. Any minute Malloy would return to carry on where he'd left off.
    "Help," she shouted, again and again until her voice rasped. Who would hear her in the endles s din going on outside? Even if they heard her she doubted anyone would take any notice. Malloy was right; hers was just another cry drifting through the filthy window.
    But she couldn 't just lie and await her fate. She yelled until her throat hurt.
    S he jumped awake from an exhausted doze to hear heavy footsteps along the passage, then someone shouted on the other side of the door, thumping on the wood at the same time. The voice was deep and so familiar she began to sob.
    "In here." Her cry came out as a croak. Pitiful. Wetting her arid lips Isabella tried again.
    A hammering, then a splintering of wood accompanied a string of muffled curses. The door fell inwards, hanging askew on its rusted hinges and Tiger Carstairs barged in. His fists flailed as he let out a string of curses Isabella had never thought to hear from a gentleman.
    But then he wasn 't gentry, was he? Just a convict, same as her.
    Relief rushed over her and a silly giggle burst from her lips, followed by a hiccup as he bent over her. Words of thanks tumbled out in a rambling stream as tears gushed from her eyes.
    "Good God, girl, what's that devil done to you?" he roared. Pulling her skirt down he took out a knife from the top of his boot and sliced through her bindings. "I'll see the swine sent to prison for this." Scooping her into his arms, he held her close to his chest while her soft giggles turned to sobs.
    She couldn 't stop shaking; her teeth chattering. "He was going to ... to ... but then his son ... Oh Tiger, I was so frightened." His familiar scent was all around her, comforting. She clung to him as shudders racked her body.
    "Hush. Just tell me, did he finish the job?" The question was growled into her ear, his mouth warm, as he rocked her back and forth like a small child needing comforting after a nightmare.
    "I . . . No."
    He pulled back to stare into her face, his eyes narrowing on her jaw. Cursing again he ran a gentle finger over her chin. "You have a nasty bruise there," he said softly. When