I finally plead with them to tell me what is going on. Finally, the smaller girl whispers "you are the Monarch's special guest tonight at His ball. ...e received you as a gift from the man who purchased you." I am blown away by her words. I begin thinking, well as bad as this has been so far maybe it won't be a complete disaster. At least I am with someone rich, powerful and that seems to want me looking my best when at His side. So, my mood does pick up just a little though I am still. She hates him for that: for not refusing. That dark-eyed guy with a pressing erection and strong, broad hands. His fault. He shouldn’t have smiled at her. He shouldn’t have stood so close when she brushed past him each night in the hall. He shouldn’t have embraced such a fucking cliché – screwing the au pair while his wife was out. Everyone knows that ends badly, as it inevitably did. A flurry of clothes and accusations and a scream that shattered into a sob as the wife (Jenny, her name was. More

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