In Harm's Reach

part III

If I had known yesterday that I'd be up at four in the morning, getting my alter ego so easily unveiled, while being at East India company, standing one fourth of as rigid as Mr. Ambrose, I would have thought that you'd been drinking the dark green waters of the Thames like a daily doctor's prescription. And also that you were wrong. Looks like the silence gave birth, and oh, look, it's a wonderful healthy death. Congratulations. SHUT UP.

'Well, know that we've all been established as acquaintances, why don't we converse? Mr. Ambrose, what is in the letter?'

And as customarily, Mr. Ambrose was silent. But with the oh so familiar glacier cold presence that he never forgot to bring with him at all times.

'Hm. It seems that Mr. Ambrose is simply much too shy to start a conversation.' And as the words left his mouth, he was unto me, as fast as a conquistador headed for new land.

'Let her go!' Mr. Ambrose tersely growled, as the icey presence he commanded at will grew ten times larger than I had ever seen it.

Dalgleish, however, didn't seem to notice, or perhaps didn't simply care. He tightened his already circulation cutting grip on my wrist and said quite audibly 'why don't we help him get over his tragic shyness?' With those final words directed at me, two guards appeared from the inside of the room, and two more who I had already familiarized with came from the entry way, looking as shocked as the passerbys when I decided to mount a bicycle. Quite surprised.

But they were not here for me, as I was already held in place by Dalgleish, they all not so gentlemanly decided on an unfair fight with Mr. Ambrose. It was four against one, four pistols against one sword welding cane.

Mr. Ambrose did not seem fazed from the amount of men directed toward him. In fact , he held his own quite well. Until more of them showed up, and exhaustion took place. In the end, it took fourteen men to subdue Mr. Ambrose. And all I could do was watch. As I was held captive by an annoying iron like grip. Until it was my turn to be unconscious. Dalgleish made sure to put extra care in the punch he gifted the back of my head with, and with that, I was unconscious.

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I don't know how long I was out, due to me being in a cold, damp room with only candles adorning the spot above me, and the other one above a bruised and quite angry looking Mr. Ambrose, who's glare was directly aimed at me.

And then I realized why the floor felt especially cold.

Most of my garments had been stripped, leaving only a few over my torso and legs.

Shortly after my grave realization, Dalgleish entered.

'Well, finally awake, sleepy birds?'

He was making his way towards me, with Mr. Ambrose's eyes following like a hunting hound, who had spotted a wild boar.

Stopping right beside me, he forcefully held my chin up, until we were eye to eye. ' You look much better like this.' Then he turned his gaze on Mr. Ambrose, 'Don't you agree?'

He broke his stare with Mr. Ambrose, then headed towards his cart, picking up a stick with a long strand of leather hanging from it, then marched back to me with it in hand.

'What is in the letter.' He voiced to Mr. Ambrose. But he was silent. And without two seconds passing of silence, Dalgleish was right next to me, ' If you do not answer me, I will be forced to do something only me and Miss Linton will enjoy, you, however, will not.'

Mr. Ambrose lurched forward the moment the words were out of Dalgleish's lips.

I'd gone through torture, more than once, though unscathed, I had experienced it none the less, so I was not going to be faint of heart this time 'I can take it.'

Mr. Ambrose looked at me with surprise, and guilt flashing through his eyes, but this time instead of disappearing as they came, they lingered.

'I'll ask again. What is in the letter.'

A deadly silence filled the room, Mr. Ambrose and me had yet to break our stares, when Dalgleish forcefully parted my thighs, rendering all of me in the view of Mr. Ambrose.

'What is in the letter?'

Nothing was heard, but the echo of Dalgleish's words in the room. Then, I felt a hand slowly slither up my inner thigh, making its way to my core stopping only inches away.

'I will ask one last time. What is in the letter.'

Mr. Ambrose looked at me one more time, seeming to ask me my wellbeing without words, only with the Moody, dark, pools of his beautiful eyes. And I responded with mine as well. Giving him a reassuring look, trying to convey all of my feminist will and fire in it, hoping I wouldn't give away the tiniest bit of helplessness and vulnerability I felt. But somehow, I could never hide these emotions from him, because somehow I felt that he knew, and wished he didn't at the same time.
And that last sparing glance, Dalgleish stood, and with the object he had picked up earlier,  walked in front of me, and let it fall on me with all his force. He had drawn out a painful moan that echoed in the dark solemn room. And all the while Mr. Ambrose never took his eyes off of me. It was utter humiliation, if I ever survived this, I don't know if I could ever look Mr. Ambrose in the eye again.

Before Dalgleish could hit me one more time, a crash was heard outside the door. Dalgleish paid no mind to it, seeming to enjoy my current situation more than I was.

Then the door started rattling. And like an angel descending from the heavens, in all his grace Karim burst through the door...