Jules breathed a sigh of relief, then called out frantically, ‘I have no clothes! Please . . . ‘ ‘No, of course you do not. And you won’t.’ ‘But why?’
Jameson paused by the cabin door. ‘There are two reasons, Juliana. First of all, a gown would make you feel less vulnerable, less malleable, give you a confidence that would be illusory at best. Second., I want you to become used to being naked. You will be spending the majority of your time during the next months in your natural state, I would imagine.’
‘You are evil.’
He quirked an amused brow at her. ‘Didn’t you hear your minister father rant enough about the evil of men?’
‘I didn’t really believe him.’
‘Oh, incidentally, Juliana, the trunk containing my clothes is locked. I beg you not to try to pry it open. It is possible that such an act would displease me mightily.’
He left her then, sitting on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the bath towel, her wet hair streaming over her shoulders. The pain in his belly sharpened a bit and he rubbed his stomach.
John Bleecher was walking beside her, and Jules knew he wanted to hold her hand. He was a nice boy – no, not a boy, she amended to herself, not any longer. He wanted to marry her. Her father wanted her to marry John. But Sarah -didn’t, nor did Jules. She would have paired John with Sarah in an instant, but people never seemed to behave as they should. Sarah would worship him, attend to his every word with flattering and sincere attention. Suddenly John turned, grabbed her upper arms, and planted a very wet kiss on her mouth.
Jules gasped, and began to struggle. But John didn’t stop. His teeth ground against her lips, and she cried out. But it was no use, he was too strong.
‘John, stop it, you idiot! How dare you . Jules came suddenly awake, jerking upright in bed. The cabin was utterly dark. Her breathing was jerky, her head still filled with the image of John attacking her. But of course John Bleecher wasn’t there. She was alone. John had kissed her once, most inexpertly, she guessed, and when she’d frowned at him, he’d let her be. And her mind had turned him into a monster. Like Jameson Wilkes. Like those sailors who had hurt Kanola. No, she thought, I must face facts. They’d raped her, like animals. And that was what was in store for her. She wasn’t certain what that entailed, exactly, and she didn’t want to know. She suddenly saw that ugly rod sticking out from the sailor’s abdomen, and shuddered. She wouldn’t think about it.
She lay back down, pulling the sheet to her chin. What am I going to do? Certainly there was no way to escape from this ship. But when they arrived in San Francisco
43
… Surely she couldn’t be kept a prisoner all the time. Surely when Jameson Wilkes tried to sell her, she could scream and fight and demand justice.
How many girls had he kidnapped? How many girls had he sold? What had happened to them? Were there more girls aboard his ship right now?
There were no answers, of course.
Jules fell asleep close to dawn. She woke slowly, feeling smooth fingers gliding up and down her bare arm. Her eyes flew open. Jameson Wilkes was sitting beside her, a bemused expression on his face.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she whispered, easing as far away from him as she could.
‘That’s something else,’ he said calmly. I will touch you, often. You must get used to it. You must learn not to flinch or act terrified. Of course, the man who buys you will want a certain amount of innocence and timidity, but he won’t want to have spent his money on a frightened, shrinking little virgin.
He reached for her again. Jules, without conscious decision, flew at him, her nails raking down his face before he could stop her. She pounded at him, her attack more effective because it was so unexpected. He finally grabbed her wrists and bent her arms behind her until she was biting her lower lip in silent pain.