Miranda's Dilemma by Natasha Blackthorne

us! She said she would take us but only one by one. We drew lots, and Harris won the first go. So they went off a ways away. Then she kicked him in the stones and ran.”
    “Bloody spiteful little b—”
    “What have you done?!” Adrian roared. He tightened his grip on  the pistol. “Tell me, or I’ll shoot your precious bollocks off!” They froze and gaped at him with ever-widening eyes.
    He leveled the weapon at the tallest man. Prickles chased over his scalp.
    For Christ’s sake, it was just a house party. Where the devil had such a situation come from? There were plenty of available women present. None of these young men had needed to resort to chasing an unwilling girl around the grounds.
    How the devil had these boys even gained entrance to the estate? He remembered Miss Caster’s complain about too many young men at the party. He did not make a practice of inviting such puppies to these types of events.
    “Peters,” he said to the young man he’d singled out. “Tell me what the hell is going on here.”
    “Sh…she…that is we only…” The younger man frowned, then ran a hand over his wayward brown forelock that waved wildly in the morning breeze. “Good God, Danvers, she’s a courtesan!”
    “What have you done?” Adrian demanded.
    “It was a potion.”
    Adrian whirled to stare at a short, pudgy boy with carrot-hued hair. “A potion?”
    “Yes, just some harmless herbs and crushed beetles and other things. It, it…well, the old woman assured us it would make any woman more agreeable.”
    “Agreeable?” Adrian scowled.
    The boy’s complexion turned a shade on the gray side. “Aye, agreeable.”
    “She agreed to drink this witch’s brew?”
    “Well, it wasn’t quite…”
    “You slipped it into her wine?”
    Peters edged closer and put his hand on the carrot-haired boy’s shoulder. “Davey, let me explain this.” He looked to Adrian. “You know we didn’t mean any real harm.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair again. “We just wanted a little fun, we wouldn’t have harmed her.”
    “Wouldn’t have harmed her?” Adrian repeated.
    Peters stiffened. “She’s the next thing to a prostitute. Carrville’s gone. And she’s always held herself as though we, our lesser titles and the money lining our pockets, weren’t good enough for her. When were we ever going to have another chance to taste such exquisite and forbidden fruit such as she?”
    “Did you ask her if she wanted to serve your lusts tonight?” Adrian demanded.
    The men exchanged glances. Then Peters shrugged. “What good would it have done to ask? She’s a little ice princess.”
    “She has a right to decide who she wants to give herself to.”
    “But she’s a harlot, pure and simple.”
    “Leave,” Adrian said.
    “What?” Peters said.
    “You heard.” Adrian stepped forward, his weapons extended. “Have your carriage readied and take your companions with you.”
    The boys’ eyes widened. Then, as a group, they took flight, stumbling over each other in their haste towards the path to the stables.
    The crunch of boots pounding on the ground caused him to turn. His sleepy-eyed  gamekeeper approached. Adrian motioned with one of his pistols. ”See to it they leave, immediately.”
    The gamekeeper hurried off after the boys.
    Adrian turned and knelt beside Miss Jones.
    He reached beneath her and lifted her limp form into his arms.
    He had made it half way back to his house when she began to quake, spasmodic shudders that wracked her whole body.
    His heart leapt into his throat and pounded there.
    Damn.
    Fuck.
    He lowered her back to the ground and rolled her head on its side. He held her shaking body and watched her retch up a mass of fluid that he desperately hoped was dark red wine.
    Pray to God she did not aspirate.
    The spasms stopped. She moaned but did not open her eyes.
    He yanked his shirttail from his trousers  and used it to wipe her face.
    She whimpered.
    The fear in the sound struck