Chapter 21 #2
“Say something!” The man boomed, drawing the attention of a few others.
Deborah’s knees began to tremble as her breath came in shorter bursts.
This is it. I have failed again. For the last time. They are going to catch me. They are going to catch me, and then they are going to-
“Apologies for my friend.” Cedric’s deep voice sounded through the malaise.
Deborah’s breath punched out of her with nearly a groan as she heard his voice and felt his hand wrap once more around her wrist; both grounded her at once.
“He is a mute,” Cedric explained, stepping in between her and the man. “Can’t do much but moan and groan, I am afraid. Hence, we are here. Needs a woman he does not have to communicate with, you know what I mean?”
The man appeared startled for a moment as he looked from Cedric’s red mask to Deborah’s; then, with a huff, he released her arm.
“Make him wear a sign from now on or something,” the man remarked, “Many would take his silence for lack of respect.”
“Excellent idea,” Cedric replied, then flipped the man a coin. “For your spilled drink and my friend’s clumsiness.”
The man caught the coin in his meaty fist, nodded, and turned away.
Cedric pulled her away, keeping his hand tight around her waist as they pressed through the sea of bodies.
When they made it to the bar area next to the stage, where it was a little less crowded, Deborah opened her mouth.
Before she could get a word out, though, Cedric whirled on her; his red devil mask startling her.
She had forgotten for a moment that he was wearing it.
“Do. Not. Speak,” he warned, his deep voice low and feral as it came through the mask.
She closed her mouth and nodded, thankful for the reminder, and in turn, Cedric let out an annoyed sigh as he looked toward the bar.
“There is Nigel,” he said, nodding toward the man. “I am going to speak to him and then we are going to go. The crowd is feral tonight; no one wants to converse. They’re too touch-starved for the women behind the curtain.”
Annoyance seeped into Deborah’s bloodstream. They were at the best place possible for answers, yet they were only going to talk to one man? She turned her head back to the crowd they’d just come through, ready to tear from his grip and find answers- and that was when she realized Cedric was right.
There was a rumble among the crowd, but they were not voices of conversations, but curses of lust and desire.
She watched as several men smoothed their palms over their crotch, or wrapped their hands around their own throats, or some even reached toward the men they were standing beside.
Her eyes widened behind her mask at the sight.
She had worked as the auction’s barmaid, yes, but she’d been too busy pouring drinks and keeping an eye out for Sylvester to notice how the crowd behaved.
Now, though, with neither to focus on, she saw just how desperate the men who came there were for erotic attention.
A quiver of disgust moved through her body at all she saw, and as Cedric pulled her toward the bar, she made no attempt to stop him.
“Nigel, sir! How are you?” Cedric said boisterously as they approached the bar.
The man Deborah had gotten to know as the auction’s handler turned in his stool and stared curiously at Cedric as he fisted his pint of ale. He spared a glance at Deborah, at how Cedric held her wrist, then looked back at Cedric.
“Mute and deaf,” Cedric answered, pointing to Deborah before Nigel could ask, “Poor fellow. Thought bringing him here would guarantee a good mistress.”
Nigel chortled and, for a moment, looked as if he were about to relax.
“Well, you have come to the right place then, Lord,” Nigel replied. “I thought that red mask looked familiar. You bought that red bird from us about a month ago, yes?”
Behind her mask, Deborah sneered with disgust, hating that she was being talked about as if she were nothing more than a pet for Cedric’s amusement.
“I did indeed,” Cedric answered cockily, leaning his elbow casually on the bar.
Nigel grunted, then turned to look at Deborah again. This time, though, his gaze lingered- a bit too long.
“And how did she work out for you?” Nigel asked, his eyes still roaming over Deborah.
“Fierce and supple. Precisely how I like them,” Cedric replied.
Nigel huffed out a laugh, then slowly drew his gaze back to Cedric.
“She seemed the sort,” Nigel said. “Lots of angry customers that night. All disappointed that you outbid them all.”
“I am keen on taking what everyone else wants,” Cedric replied in a dry, arrogant tone.
“Well, if your friend here is looking to acquire the type of rare bird you did, he is out of luck tonight. We got no sorts even close to her,” Nigel answered, then turned to Deborah.
She nearly startled when he then shouted, “Not that you should not bid! Still got some pretty things that will be happy to tickle your fancy!”
“He is deaf, not hard of hearing,” Cedric said testily as Nigel leaned a little closer to Deborah’s mask, as if trying to peer beyond it. “Neither yelling nor whispering will get through to him.”
Nigel grunted. “Right,” he muttered, still staring far too closely at Deborah’s mask.
He knows. The thought sent a tremor of worry up Deborah’s spine.
“Let us say my friend does not see something he likes,” Cedric pushed on, “After all he may not talk or hear, but my man can see perfectly well. What if he is not pleased with the assortment?”
Nigel’s stare lingered on Deborah for another moment, then he turned to Cedric.
“Come back another night then,” Nigel said as he lifted his pint to his mouth, “Selection varies.”
“And what if we are…looking for something different?” Cedric asked, his tone dropping low.
Nigel swallowed his ale and set down his empty glass.
“Different how?” He asked.
Cedric rapped his knuckles twice on the bar, signaling the barmaid to refill Nigel’s glass.
“They beauties for the most part come here willingly,” Cedric explained, “What if we wanted a place where they were a little more…inhibited.”
Deborah watched as Nigel’s expression and body language immediately became more guarded.
“Don’t know what you mean,” he gruffly replied, turning his shoulder toward Cedric.
“Oh, I think you do,” Cedric replied and tossed a few coins onto the bar. More than enough to pay for Nigel’s next few drinks.
Nigel immediately picked up the coins and his ale and left his stool.
“Don’t think so,” Nigel grunted, throwing one last glaring look toward Deborah before he stomped away.
“Better get settled,” he called over his shoulder, “Auction’s about to start.”
“Let us go,” Cedric murmured, pulling at Deborah’s wrist as the emcee took to the stage, “This place becomes nearly impossible to get out of once the auction starts.”
Discouraged and frustrated, Deborah looked toward the stage as Cedric all but pulled her through the crowd.
There were no answers. No new clues. Just an assault of memories she thought was behind her.
Her head bowed and her spirit dampened, Deborah finally looked away from the stage and followed Cedric back outside.