Being this close to the docks, the land mightbe useful. He could build another whorehouse. The wealthy gentlemanwouldn’t have to waste time venturing into the city to have their urges satisfied. Thatis, if they didn’t mind thesurrounding company. Shacks surrounding this plot of land eachsmall lot not much better than quarters at a big plantation. A foulodor mixed with the stench of ash in the air. Former slaves. Hecould smell them a mile away. The war didn’t erase their filth onlybroke their bonds. If the stench remained, he wouldn’t be able toconduct business here. He never understood how Mr. Grier couldstand living in the colored community. Of course, he couldn’tafford any better.
Two deputies sifted through the rubble,looking for clues to how the fire started. One lawman held up legirons and looked over at him. “Do you know anything aboutthis?”
His pulse slowed. Allison. He openedhis mouth and paused a beat before saying, “No, sir.”
The deputy ran the chain through his hand.“Strange.”
“He was a recluse,” the other constable said.“Who would want him dead?”
Coswell shifted his weight. One woman inparticular. He gave the lawmen an exaggerated shrug. “Don’t look atme. It isn’t like he had anything worth inheriting.”
Except Allison.
The older deputy let out a deep belly laugh.
“Truth is I’ve only seen Mr. Grier a coupletimes since the war.” Neither pleasant, but he kept that tohimself. “I never expected,” he made a sweeping motion with hisarm, “any of this.”
The younger constable nodded. “Looks like itwill remain a puzzle.”
The lawmen didn’t know about Allison. He’dlet them continue to think Grier lived alone.
Allison’s corpse wasn’t in the house. She wasstill alive.
Would he ever see her again? Mr. Grier hadkept a tight rein on that woman. Without his protection, he finallyhad hope of making her one of hisgirls.
Would she be running scared? With a decentset of clothes, it would be easy for Allison to blend in anddisappear. People paid little attention to colored folk, especiallywenches. Coswell grinned for a second before clamping his mouthshut and resuming a solemn expression. He didn’t want to looksuspicious with the lawmen still poking around.
He’d hunt her down. He had a long reach. Shewouldn’t be able to hide for long– not from him. Men paid little attention to the coloredgals unless they were after the same thing he was. Perhaps it wasthe fact he couldn’t have her that he wanted Allison so much.Logically he realized she wasn’t anything special. While pretty shewas far from fancy. Yet, he desired her all the same, longed tohold her in his arms, dominate her, make her moan.
Fulfilling men’s urges had become a lucrativebusiness, one which thrived even during wartime. He didn’t complainwhen men traded food or hawked silver to pay for time between the sheets. Now it was time to takecare of his own.
He rolled his tongue around his parchedmouth. The saliva helped ease his dry throat, but did nothing tosettle his nausea. As soon as the constables gave him permission toleave, he’d head straight for the tavern.
His cock reminded him he hadn’t sated that thirst in several nights. Withdrawalsfrom his nightly exercise were never pleasant. He pitied the poorwoman he’d rut with tonight. Shewouldn’t be able to walk straight in the morning.
He’d imagine she was Allison, make theintense experience even more thrilling.
God, he needed that woman like he needed abottle of whiskey. It didn’t take much to make him happy.
Really the prospect of searching for Allisonwas daunting. He didn’t know where to look first. She could behiding in one of these shacks with a colored family or she couldalready be out of town.
After he got all his business straightenedout he could devote the time necessary looking for her. He had toattend to his currents girls before he went off searching foranother one—even if she was one who he wanted to share his bed.
He’d find her if it was the last thing hedid.
Chapter 8
ALLISON STARED OUT the sitting room window.Despite being clean with homey touches like checkered curtains, shecouldn’t fully relax in Mrs. Brown’s house. Memories of Grier andthe fire blurred with her thoughts of George. It was hard to sortit all out, make sense of everything. She hadn’t slept well lastnight which added to her confusion. She rubbed the back of her neckand yawned. The coffee was supposed to help, but she had yet totake a sip.
“Would you prefer something else to drink?Tea perhaps?”
“Oh, no thank you.” Allison shifted herattention back to Mrs. Brown. She shouldn’t be rude to her host.She took a drink. The warm liquid slid down her throat, calming hergrowing anxiety.
They’d grown closer over the past week. IfAllison let her imagination toroam then Mrs. Brown could be her caring mama instead of a midwife.Allison barely remembered her mama, being sold to Grier at a youngage. It was nice having an older woman she could turn to, confidein.
Except what she had to ask wouldn’t bepleasant.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Mrs. Brown asked.
“I just—I would just like to talk to youabout something.”
“Ah. I’m a good listener.”
Allison rubbed her forehead. “It isdifficult.”
Mrs. Brown moved from the chair across fromher to the chair beside her. She put her hand on top of hers. Themotherly gesture brought a small smile to Allison’s face. “It isokay, honey,” she said in a gentle whisper. “You can’t tell meanything I haven’t heard before.”
Allison drew in a deep breath and exhaledslowly. “My master, Mr. Grier, he forced himself on me manytimes.”
Mrs. Brown bobbed her head, her browcreasing.
“And now…” Allison’s voice trailed off. Hercheeks heated and she hadn’t even said the words yet.
“And now what?” Mrs. Brown squeezed Allison’shand. “I’m here to help. But I need to know how to help.”
“And now…” she started again, “…I have thesefeelings for George. Is that wrong?”
Mrs. Brown shook her head. “There ain’t athing wrong with that, honey. It is natural for a woman to havefeelings for a man.”
The heat in Allison’s cheeks faded. “Butafter what I’ve been through…”
“It doesn’t
