Belle - Lesley Pearse [202]
‘And?’ Etienne asked.
Philippe chuckled. ‘That shook him. But I’m not sure whether it was because I knew she was missing, or because he couldn’t imagine any man treating a whore like a lady. Maybe it occurred to him that he could easily find himself cut out as the middle man if men took the girls home.’
‘What then?’
‘Well, whatever was on his mind, he blustered a bit, said, “You know how these girls are, probably met someone who has taken her away with him.” I pointed out it was odd she’d taken nothing with her, and that I was considering alerting the gendarmes in case of foul play. Well, that did it – his voice rose, his eyes flashed and he said that would look bad for me. I pointed out it would look bad for him too as I’d have to tell the gendarmes how I met her.’
He stopped talking to pour both himself and Etienne a glass of claret, swirling his in the glass and sniffing it appreciatively before taking a sip. ‘With that I turned and walked away. I thought it best to leave him to stew, not knowing what I was going to do.’
Etienne wished then that he hadn’t left his post by Pascal’s house. If the man had been panicked by Philippe, he might very well be rushing off now to tell whoever was in this with him that trouble was brewing for them.
Chapter Thirty-three
Belle could think of nothing but how thirsty she was. Each time she closed her eyes she saw water running from a tap and imagined cupping her hands and leaning forward to drink it. She tried to distract herself by thinking of Mog, but when she did Mog was holding the teapot, pouring tea into a cup.
A noise downstairs startled her out of it. She sat up to listen, sure she’d imagined the sound. But she hadn’t – someone was definitely down there. She was off the bed and over to the door in a second, her thirst forgotten, and she yelled and hammered on the door with her fists.
She paused to listen, and she could hear footsteps coming up the stairs and noticed there was a beam of light around the door which meant the electricity had been restored.
‘Help me!’ she yelled. ‘I’m in here!’
‘I know you are in there,’ Pascal’s all too familiar voice rang out. ‘Now, stand away from the door as I’m coming in with some food and drink.’
Relief washed over her and she spontaneously moved back, holding the remains of her torn bodice over her breasts. She heard the key turn in the lock, then, as the door opened slowly, much longed for light flooded into the room, making her blink. Pascal had a jug in his hand, and a bag hung over that arm, but in his other hand he held a knife.
‘Don’t be alarmed by the knife,’ he said, using it to switch on the room light. ‘I’ll only use it if you try anything.’
Belle’s eyes were on the jug, for now her thirst was greater than fear of a knife. ‘Where have you been?’ she gasped out. ‘Why did you leave me so long?’
He handed her the jug, then quickly locked the door behind him. Belle lifted the jug to her lips and drank deeply. Water had never tasted so good.
‘I hope by now you have decided you are going to be nice to me,’ he said.
Her thirst quenched, Belle put the jug down on the washstand. ‘I’ll do anything you say, but don’t leave me locked up in here any longer,’ she said.
‘Sit down and eat this,’ he said, holding out the bag.
Belle snatched it. Inside was a chunk of bread with some cheese. The bread was stale, the small piece of cheese very hard, but that didn’t matter, she tore at it with her teeth, gulping it down so fast she couldn’t even taste it.
Pascal stood watching her. She glanced up at him a couple of times and he was smirking.
‘Thank you,’ she said, once the last crumb was gone. ‘I thought you were never coming back.’
‘I had to teach you to have some respect for me,’ he said with a hint of menace. ‘But I’m sure now you know what I can do to you, everything will be different.’
With her thirst gone and hunger partially sated, Belle’s wits came back to her. ‘What do you want of me?’
‘I want your love,’ he said.