Chapter 8

There was a loud, almost desperate sounding knock on the door. 'Come in,' Ellington said, making no effort to hide the irritation he felt at being interrupted. When his office door was shut, he did not have to tell his staff that he would not tolerate any disruption, everyone just knew. It had been a busy day, and he was in the middle of writing an important letter to his business partner, Lord Melrose.

Europe, once more, was on the brink of war. Since Napoleon had made his daring escape from exile on Elba, the political situation on the continent, that had been precarious for the last year, had deteriorated further. As Napoleon marched victoriously through France, he gathered together his scattered army that had been disbanded by the allies at the end of the war. As soon as Louis XVIII, the French king, who had been given power by the British, heard the news of Napoleon's escape, he moved his court across the Belgium border to Ghent; a town controlled by the allies.

The allies, who had been overseeing the fragile peace agreement, were taken by surprise by Napoleon's audacious escape and the willingness of the French people to change their allegiance, from their out-of-touch king to their beloved emperor. Now the allies had to prepare themselves for a war that none of them had expected to fight.

Ellington, who had transferred most of his business interests to Europe six months ago, was concerned at how the coming war would impact him financially. He had to tread carefully, to keep both sides happy. He knew, that whatever the political outcome or the ramifications the war would have on the economic situation in Europe, his business interests must come first.

He had been in the process of writing a detailed letter to Melrose when the door of the office was flung open, and an angry woman stormed into the room. She stood in the middle of the room and bellowed at him. 'How dare you?' She then took a few more steps towards the desk and said again, through gritted teeth, 'how dare you?'

'How dare I... what, exactly?' he said, looking at her superciliously.

'My brother,' she said, her eyes wide and flashing with anger.

He put down his pen and placed the paper, that he had been writing on, carefully to one side. He then folded his arms and looked at her, his hauteur had been replaced by anger. 'If you must come in and shout at me,' he said, his eyes narrowing, 'please shut the door behind you. Do you want everyone in the building overhearing our conversation?'

Cassie turned around, walked back to the door and slammed it shut. The loud bang that the door made, reverberated around the office, making the pictures that were hanging on the wall closest to it shake violently. She then returned to stand in the middle of the room and began to glower at him with her bright blue eyes. There were chairs by the desk, but everyone, who entered the room, knew that you did not take a seat until you were invited.

'Now that you have slammed the door, please tell me what I have done to incur your wrath?' he said, leaning back in his chair.

'You...You,' she said, through gritted teeth, 'are turning my brother into a libertine.'

'Is that all!' he replied, shrugging his shoulders, 'I thought, from the impertinence of your interruption, that what you had to say was of vital importance. However, I was wrong.'

'What do you mean, of no importance,' she said, putting one hand on her hip and waving the other at him, 'have you seen Reggie recently?' She continued, not bothering to wait for his reply. 'He is gambling away what little money he has, at your card tables; he has made friends if I can call them friends, with some very unsavoury characters; and he spends nearly every night here fraternising with every cheap slut that works for you.'

'So?' he said, with a shrug of the shoulders,' he's a young man, and he's just doing what young men do.'

'He is fifteen years old,' she said, leaning over and pointing at him angrily with her forefinger, 'fifteen! He should be at school, not publicly debauching himself like the loose screws that hang around your gaming tables. He will lose everything, or worse, pick up some pox from one of the foreign whores that you insist on having here.'

'Now, now, my dear,' he said standing up. There was an unmistakably steely tone to his voice, 'put your claws away.' He watched as she slowly lowered her arm. 'That's better,' he added, leaning forward and placing both hands on his desk. 'Now you can calm down and stop glaring at me.'

He could sense that the rage that had initially initiated the confrontation had started to wane and she was beginning to look a little nervous. 'Yes, Major Ellington,' he heard her whisper as she looked down at the floor.

'You are shaking,' he said offhandedly, 'and you look a mess. Have you had any laudanum today?' Of course, he knew that she had not had any. It was him, after all, that carefully controlled the amount she was allowed on any given day. It was still early evening, and he had deliberately withheld her daily portion. He had wanted to remind her who was in control of its distribution, and who she needed to obey in order to get more.

'No,' she said, shaking her head, 'I do not have any left. I used the last of it yesterday.' He could see that she stood in the centre of the room, with her eyes still fixed on the floor. He smiled and thought to himself that all the bravado that she must have felt coming into his study to confront him, had vanished, and he recognised in her weak sounding voice, the fear she had of him.

Ellington opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a small familiar looking brown glass bottle. He placed it in the middle of the desktop so that her attention would be drawn to it. He knew that the contents of that bottle would temporarily relieve her suffering and give her the peace that she so desperately wanted. 'Let me get you a drink,' he then said, as he stood up and walked over to a bureau behind him. Once he had poured a large glass of brandy, he brought it back to the desk and placed it deliberately next to the bottle. Her stare was now fixed on the small glass bottle, and he could see in her eyes that she would do anything for just one drop. 'Now,' he said, leaning back in his chair, 'calmly and politely tell me, why you have seen fit to interrupt me?'

'My brother,' she said, as she edged her way towards his desk, 'is fraternising with some very unsavoury characters. They are encouraging him to play deep, and he owes them a lot of money.' After she had spoken, she then glanced over at the bottle, and he saw the look of longing in her eyes.

'I am aware of your brother's situation,' he said coolly, 'Mr Reynolds, who has been keeping a watchful eye on him, keeps me informed of the young lad's movements. He is not worried about his gambling, and, quite frankly, neither am I.'

'But,' she said earnestly, 'he's too young. He should be at school...'

He put up his hand to interrupt her. 'I will not discuss this with you,' he said firmly. 'Your brother has learnt more, in the last two weeks, than he would have done wasting his time at school. He is learning to be a gentleman, and how to negotiate all the pitfalls, a young man of his class, may encounter along the way. I see no reason why the lad should not sow some wild oats. And what better way to learn about the ways of the world, than under the watchful eye of his guardian.'

'But,' she said, trying to hide the desperation in her voice, 'the men he has befriended have... no morals.'

He looked at her with surprise and began to laugh. 'No morals,' he said with his eyes wide open in mock horror, 'that's a bit rich coming from you.'

She looked at him, with a hurt look in her eye. 'That is not fair,' she said quietly, 'not fair at all.'

'Those men,' he said, ignoring her last comment, 'who you are quick to disparage, are respectable gentlemen. Not only are they distinguished officers, who have been commended for their bravery on the field of battle, but they are the very type of gentlemen I want my young ward to emulate.'

'But, their behaviour in front of him,' she said quietly, but with feeling, 'it is... degenerate and... depraved. I do not expect my brother, a gentleman, to behave publicly in such a manner.'

'What have they done to incur your wrath?' he said, 'Reynolds has told me that their behaviour is no worse than the other officers that regularly come here.'

'They want my brother to pay them back,' she said, as she glanced at the bottle once more. She was still standing in front of his desk, and he could see that her hands continued to shake uncontrollably. 'But he cannot,' she said, trying not to look at the bottle.

Ellington, knowing full well that she craved after the drug, caressed the sides of the bottle, bringing it, once more, to her attention. 'I know,' he said lightly, 'the young scamp runs through his allowance far too quickly.'

'But, he wants me to pay them,' she said, now looking at him directly, 'me!'

Ellington smiled, leaned back in his chair and said, almost to himself. 'So, the young scamp wants his older sister to pay his debts. He's not as green as I thought he was.'

'You know I have no money,' she then said tempestuously, ignoring his comment, 'and, you also know that I own nothing of any value.' She then looked at the floor and twisted her fingers nervously together. 'Do you know how he wants me to repay them?' she said in a whisper.

'He probably wants you to do what La Rosa d'Oro is famed for doing,' he said nonchalantly, 'you are a whore after all.'

He felt no sympathy for her as he saw a tear fall down her cheek. 'That is unfair,' she said softly, as she put out her hand on the back of a chair to steady herself, 'very unfair.'

'But true,' he said, without any compassion. 'You better sit down before you fall down,' he said, with an impatient sigh. As the tears continued to fall down her cheeks, she carefully lowered herself into the chair. 'Has your brother talked to the gentlemen in question about this particular method of repayment?'

'Yes,' she whispered, looking at her hands that were resting in her lap, 'and they have agreed.'

'Then,' he said indifferently, 'what is the problem? I think it is an excellent solution to your brother's financial problems.'

She looked up at him, shocked at his response. 'But, they are common soldiers. I...'

He put up his hand to interrupt her. 'They are not common soldiers, they are officers and gentlemen. And, I will not have you, of all people, demeaning their reputation.' He looked at her, with a cold look in his eyes. 'Do you think that you are in any way superior to them?'

She shook her head and said defensively. 'No, of course not. I would never... But, they are vicious and heartless. They treat the other girls cruelly,' she said quietly. 'When they are drunk, they are savage and sadistic, and they do not care who they hurt. I have seen first-hand the damage they can do.'

'I grant you, they can be a bit boisterous, but they are not as bad as you are implying. It's just high spirits, that's all,' he said casually. 'They have been fighting the French for so long, that they cannot be denied a little pleasure.'

In the silence that followed, he began to touch the bottle with his fingertips, thus, once more, drawing her attention to it. 'You are still shaking, are you not?'

She nodded and tried to look away, but he knew that the thought of the relief, from her physical torment, was far too strong for her to ignore. He saw her bite her bottom lip and look at the bottle with a yearning desire.

As she continued to look at the bottle with longing, he carefully and deliberately transferred a portion of the laudanum into the brandy. 'How desperate are you for this?' he asked as he swirled the glass and put it on the table, just out of her reach.

She pursed her lips and shut her eyes. 'I need it badly,' she said in a whisper, 'I need it to stop the shaking and make the terrible pain go away.'

He pushed the glass a little closer towards her. She stretched out her hand to take it, but before she could reach it, he withdrew it back a little bit and said in a low voice, 'remember, my dear Cass, I still own you.'

'Please do not call me that,' she said, as she pulled back her hand, 'she does not exist anymore. She died when you took her away from her sister and brought her to London.'

He shook his head. 'No, my dear,' he said slowly, as he stood up and walked over to stand by the back of her chair. He gently placed both his hands on her shoulders and began to tenderly caress them. 'My dear, dear Cass is very much alive and well,' he said as he kissed her neck.

'Cass,' he then added, whispering in her ear, 'you still love me, don't you?'

She turned around and looked up at him with uncertainty. 'I do not know anymore.' Her hands that were still on her lap were tightly clasped together, 'I used to love you, but I ...'

'I think, you still love me,' he said, as he continued to massage the back of her neck.

She shook her head and said vehemently, 'no, no I do not. I do not love you anymore.'

'I do not believe you,' he said quietly, but firmly.

He could see the inner conflict that was waging inside her as she looked intently at her hands that were still trembling in her lap. 'I do not know,' she eventually said weakly. He could see that she looked with longing at the glass that had been placed prominently on the table in front of her.

'You know what you have to do, my dear. Just say those three simple words to me. Then you can have.'

'I love you,' she eventually said, with a quivering and uncertain voice.

'That was not so hard,' he said, as he stretched across her and placed the glass within her reach. 'Take it,' he ordered. He watched with satisfaction as she gingerly took the glass and drained its contents in one go. 'Good girl,' he said, as he took the glass from her and placed it back on the desk. 'Just because I have shown you kindness in the past,' he said, as his fingers began to dig painfully in her shoulders, 'does not mean I will be kind to you in the future. Remember, my dear, if you defy me in any way, I will not be so generous in the future with my little gifts,' he said as he grasped the base of her neck. As his fingers dug painfully into her flesh, he could feel every muscle in her body tense, and he knew that she was under his control. 'Remember, my dear, that I control your brother's affairs, and, I could withdraw my invaluable support from him at any time. Do you understand?' he whispered harshly into her ear.

Cassie nodded but said nothing.

'Since you have been under my protection,' he said, 'you and your brother have lacked for nothing. I would even go as far as to say, I have been exceptionally generous to the pair of you.' As his grip became tighter, she gasped in pain. In response to her cry, he said, 'you are aware, that I have treated you differently from the other girls. I have selected your clients with care, and I have never withheld your little treats from you. But remember, my dear, that, in the blink of an eye, all that could change. I would not want to see you have to sell yourself on street corners, like a common whore.'

'You are hurting me,' she said, pain in her voice, 'please stop.'

'Just remember where your loyalty lies,' he said, squeezing the base of her neck a little harder.

'Please let go,' she pleaded, 'I will do anything you want.'

In response to her plea, he loosened his grip and began to gently caress her shoulders. 'I am glad we have come to an understanding,' he said, as he gently stroked her neck. She then began to feel the familiar wave of ecstasy, that only the laudanum could evoke, wash over her. He bent down and whispered softly in her ear. 'Now, my dear, I want you to be a good girl and do exactly what your brother, and his friends, tell you to do. And, in return, I will make sure that the little brown bottle, on your dressing table, is never empty.'

'Yes,' she said, her voice becoming slurred as her body relaxed, 'I will do whatever they ask.'

'Good girl,' he said, as he helped her to her feet, 'I knew you would see sense. Remember, if you do as you are told, I will look after you.'