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S he was hungry.

Nay, it was more than that. She was bloody well starving because she had not eaten since the night before.

She had awoken sometime after dawn to an empty bed because Magnus had departed silently at some point, but she didn’t feel abandoned.

For the first time in her life, she felt connected to someone—in a way she never knew possible.

Magnus was a man of honor, and she knew he would never abandon her, not after he proposed marriage and swore to change her life.

She had believed every word.

Therefore, it was just a matter of when he would be returning.

Delaina rose from the bed that smelled of Magnus and proceeded to get dressed for the day.

There was some cold water still in the bathtub that had yet to be removed because the serving wench never did return to bring her a pot of water she could heat over the hearth, so once again she bathed in the old bathwater. But this time it was different.

Very different.

She could smell Magnus on her body. His scent was on her hands, her arms. Everywhere he touched, she could smell him, and there was enough to make her heart flutter.

Delaina had been touched by other men in the past; that had never been a secret.

But, as she had told Magnus, she’d never experienced any pleasure from it.

In fact, she knew that she and Magnus were going to have several difficult conversations ahead of them when he wanted to know just how much she had been schooled in the art of sexual encounters.

Her heart sank when she thought of those conversations that she simply didn’t want to have. He knew that she had been trained at a brothel, and that meant she had endured several humiliating sessions as the proprietress herself trained her on how to pleasure a man.

She thought back to the very first time she had been brought into a room with a paying customer, a man who had been willing to allow an inexperienced woman to touch him.

Margit had treated the situation very casually, because this was her business.

There was no emotion involved, only revenue, and she had stood back and instructed Delaina to touch the man’s private parts, and then proceeded to tell her what to do to him.

That had only been the beginning. Delaina thought that had been the worst possible thing to happen, until another lesson that had a man bed her so that Margit could instruct her on how to use the muscles inside her woman’s center to pleasure a man as he made love to her.

Tighten up, girl! She could hear Margit hiss at her as she straddled a man who had permission to touch her.

She could still see herself riding the man as one would ride a horse, astride, while Margit instructed her on how she should do things.

How it should feel. It had been cold, impersonal, and businesslike.

God, she’d wanted to die.

Those were humiliating moments in her life that she had hoped to forget.

Humiliating moments that had assured her she would never have a decent husband.

What man wanted a wife who had been instructed by a prostitute how to use her body to pleasure a man and even manipulate him?

If Magnus truly wanted to marry her, how would he ever get past the things she’d done?

Delaina spent the morning debating that very question.

She wondered if Magnus would rescind his offer once he’d had time to think about it.

Men often said things in the heat of passion that they didn’t mean, so Delaina was half expecting Magnus to return to her and tell her that he hadn’t meant any of it.

That he had spoken before he thought about it.

She was fully prepared for that disappointment, the latest in a long line of them.

Even so, she still hoped he would help her find a new life.

She tried not to expect too much.

The morning deepened, and Delaina’s hunger grew. There weren’t any crumbs left because she had already eaten them yesterday, so she had no food and no wine, and even the fire in the hearth was starting to die down. There was no more fuel in the wood box.

As the day pushed toward noon, her hunger had the better of her, and although she had promised Magnus she would not leave the room, she felt that she had no choice unless she wanted to starve to death.

She made the decision to seek out a serving wench and order a meal.

Throwing the bolt to the chamber door and opening it was something of a harrowing experience.

As soon as she stood in the open doorway, she realized that the room itself insulated her from much of the sound from the common room below.

It was much louder in the corridor, with men laughing and shouting at one another.

Smoke from a malfunctioning hearth seemed to fill the common room and drift up the stairwell, creating a haze in the upstairs corridor.

Delaina stood there a moment, listening to the noise down below and wondering if this was such a good idea.

She was hoping to see a servant on this level, but she didn’t see anyone at all.

In fact, she seemed very much alone on the floor.

But the room down below was anything but empty; tiptoeing over to the top of the stairwell, she peered down into the room and could see that it was crowded with people. It wasn’t just men, but women as well.

And they were all having a marvelous time.

That was good news, because it meant they were all occupied. Delaina began to think that perhaps no one would notice her if she went down. There were so many people that she could easily be overlooked. At least, that was the hope.

With a deep breath for courage, she headed down the stairs.

Watching the chaos and the common room from the stairwell was one thing.

But being in the center of it was another.

The smoke was much heavier down here, but no one seemed to notice.

They were too busy drinking and laughing and throwing the occasional punch.

Delaina coughed into her hand, overcome by the smoke, but she pushed onward and tried not to sputter.

When she first came to the tavern, she had been whisked in so quickly that she hadn’t had the opportunity to look around, but now that she had the chance, she could see just what a terrible place it really was.

It brought filth to an entirely new level.

As she’d hoped, no one seemed to notice her.

They were all too busy with their food or drink or games.

There seemed to be several games going on, in fact, most of them games of chance, but other games seemed simply odd.

There was one man at a table who sat there with a spoon balanced on his nose while men laughed at him and tried to force him to drop the spoon.

She peered at that table curiously as she headed toward the rear of the tavern in search of someone who could bring her food.

But it wasn’t an easy trip.

Even if no one was really noticing her, that didn’t mean they weren’t pushing her around or stepping on her feet.

Every time she walked past a table or a group of men, somehow, it seemed that someone bumped into her or stepped on her.

She wasn’t a big woman by any means, but she felt positively invisible at the moment, which, in hindsight, was an excellent thing.

She was eager to request her food and then run back to her chamber and bolt the door.

Given the noise and bedlam that she’d heard from the common room for the past couple of days, she knew what this group was capable of, and she wanted to get out while she could.

No wonder all of the doors on the upper floor were reinforced.

It was a wild bunch that shouted and laughed as she finally found a serving wench who agreed to bring her some food and hot water.

She also requested that someone come and retrieve the tub of cold water that was still in her chamber, and the servant agreed to send someone up to get it.

Lastly, she asked for fuel for her fire and was told it would be brought forthwith.

Satisfied that her requests were going to be honored, Delaina turned back for the stairwell, hoping to make it to the stairs before another clumsy fool bashed into her or stepped on her toes.

She was just nearing the stairwell, and safety, when someone grabbed her from behind.

Startled, Delaina gasped as she realized two men had her by the arms. They were moving swiftly for the entry to the tavern, and she opened her mouth to scream, but someone slapped a dirty, gloved hand over her lips.

Unfortunately, no one in the tavern was paying any attention, something she’d been thankful for when she came down from her chamber but now something she was sorely regretting.

No one to notice her, no one to help, and, even if they had noticed her being manhandled, no one made a move to question it.

As quickly as she was grabbed, Delaina was out the door, into the daylight beyond.

There were other men out here, in a group, and two other frightened-looking women.

Delaina had no idea why she’d been brought outside, but she didn’t care; panicked, she tried to run, but one of the men still had her by the arm.

She began to kick and fight, biting the hand that held her.

The man howled, and as she tried to break away, something heavy hit her across the back of the head.

Everything went black.