Mystic Mountains

misses who sneer at me are locked in cages of their own making. How would you like to be your own woman, Bella? Have your own home, your own space, be answerable to no man?"
    "It certainly sounds as if you' re getting the best of a bargain, Selena. But how can you?" Isabella cleared her throat. "I mean . . . don't you have to . . .?" 
    "Let 's not be coy, Bella. I entertain men callers. Let's face it, most of the other women in the colony sleep with men. The difference is that I get paid handsomely for my favors. I have all this." She spread her arms to encompass the comfortable room.
    "Other women are used by their men, suffer all sorts of indignities, and then own nothing. If they're dissatisfied with their lot in life they cannot walk away from it. They would be thrown out without a penny or a scrap of clothing to call their own. It's a sad fact that most men, once married, treat their wives no better than chattels, while they are off playing with the other men in their clubs, or with their mistresses. And the mistresses get paid handsomely while the wives have to lie back and think of other things." She chuckled. "'Tis the way of the world."
    "But . . ." Isabella didn't know quite how to put it.
    "Come, you can speak plainly with me." Selena smiled encouragingly.
    Isabella clea red her throat again. "Isn't it horrible having to lie with different men? Men you most likely despise?" She thought of the lecher who'd raped her. Just imagining being compliant with the likes of him made her feel sick.
    "Men like Tiger, you mean?" Selena studied her long tinted nails. "Let 's face it, Bella, every woman over fifteen in the colony would lie with him given half a chance, no matter how they might deny it indignantly. Now I have Gareth, the sweetest lover a woman could hope for. No, Bella, I'm not a whore or a doxie who plies her wares at the wharf. I'm a woman with brains who sells what most women give for nothing. I'm a woman of quality." She shrugged eloquently. "Tell me honestly, wouldn't you rather be a rich man's mistress than a poor man's drudge?"
    Isabella would sooner be a certain farmer 's wife, but that possibility was out of her grasp. She had to agree with this beautiful woman who seemed to have her life well in hand.
    "It 's late, Bella. You can stay here until you make up your mind." Selena got up. Staring down at Isabella, she said, "Think about it. I can teach you how to become the most sought-after paramour in the colony. Or you can end up with the dregs, the doxies, the women of the gutter. It's up to you. Sleep on it. But let me tell you, there's not a lot of choice in the colony for a woman like you. Why do you think they bring so many females over here for such petty crimes? I don't know what offence you committed, and don't really care. We were all brought here to service men in one capacity or another. Why not take the easy way out?
    "Now I 'll get you a quilt, and if you decide to stay, tomorrow my maid will make up a bed for you alongside hers." As she spoke Selena had snuffed out the candles. Leaving one burning she went to a door at the back of the parlor. After handing Isabella a blanket she said, "Goodnight, Bella."
    "Goodnight. And thank you for letting me stay, Selena." 
    Isabella was still wide awake when dawn crept in.
     
    * * *
     
    "What do you mean, she's gone?" Tiger stared at Thelma, his heart sinking. "She's gone out for a walk? Gone into town?" He didn't know why he was asking, for he sensed Bella had not gone on some message, not gone off to be alone.
    But gone for good.
    The chit had sneaked off in the night, for God 's sake. Why hadn't he foreseen it? A tightness in his chest made him shiver.
    "She wasn 't in her bed when I went into her room this morning, Tiger." Thelma twisted her apron between her thin fingers. Tiger had never seen her so agitated. Even when Gillie was sick a couple of years back her face hadn't looked so haggard. Her eyes looked sunken.
    He 'd kill the wench for doing this to Thelma. If he ever saw her again. With a groan he contemplated that eventuality. Somehow Isabella had inched her way into a part of him he'd always managed, until now, to keep inviolate.
    "I thought she might be out in the orchard or off with her chickens." Thelma handed him a sheet of writing paper. "But I found this." She folded her arms across her chest and let out a shuddering sigh. "So I went into her room. She 's taken her brush and comb and a change of clothes. Bless me but she