The Enchanted Land Read online

  Morgan worked hard at controlling her anger. “I was not playing any game.”

  Motherly, Nicole patted her shoulder. “Already San Francisco is hearing about Madame Nicole’s little celebration, and it is rumored that a sensational beauty is to be offered. I thought I would reassure you. The sale is by invitation only. All these men have impeccable taste and a great deal of money.” She smiled at Morgan.

  “I doubt if you would be smiling if you were about to be sold like an animal.”

  Nicole laughed aloud, a deep laugh. “How ever do you think I got into this business? Actually, chérie, the sale is very exciting. I would give a great deal to be as young and as beautiful as you. To be auctioned off, to be fought over by many handsome young men—yes, that is very exciting. It happens only once. You should enjoy it.”

  She looked again at Morgan’s furious face. “The young! They are so full of causes! This one would like to miss showing her beautiful body to men who will appreciate it. She would rather share it with only one man, one who will soon grow used to it and be bored by it. You are so lucky, Morgan, and you do not even realize it. Youth vanishes so quickly. Use it! Enjoy it!”

  She realized that her sentiments meant nothing to Morgan. “Bah! Youth is wasted on the young. Goodnight.”

  The day before Christmas, Morgan was left alone. She napped and dreamed of Seth. All day her thoughts of him were especially strong. Late in the afternoon, she heard a music box playing and turned toward the sound, to the dresser. In the mirror she saw not her own reflection, but Seth’s. He was staring at her with hatred, his features contorted. She stood frozen in horror. Then there was a muffled crash. The tinkling music was gone, and Seth’s face vanished.

  She was still locked in her place when Madame Nicole and two servant girls entered. Instantly, the large woman knew something was wrong.

  “Morgan! What’s wrong? You’re shaking.” She held Morgan’s shoulders, but the young woman continued to stare at the mirror. Nicole turned to the mirror and saw nothing. She put herself between Morgan and the glass.

  “Tell me.”

  “I saw … I saw…” Morgan’s voice was a harsh whisper.

  “What did you see in the mirror? Girls! Make the water very hot.” The three women undressed her and put her in the tub.

  Gradually, Morgan began to lose her vacant stare and Nicole breathed a sigh of relief. “What did you see in the mirror?” she asked quietly.

  Morgan’s voice held no emotion. “My husband.”

  “But Jacques said he was dead. You only thought you saw him.” Her eyes caught Morgan’s and held. Something in them told her the truth: this vision been no wishful imagining. “Mon Dieu!” she exclaimed and crossed herself. Abruptly, she left the room.

  Tonight, when Madame Nicole opened the sealed bids, she knew who would win Morgan. If only he would bid. This night she would say her rosary many times before sleeping.

  The two young girls were quieter than usual as they dressed Morgan. Her clothes were especially fine, the lace on her chemise handmade. Her corset was satin and embroidered with tiny rosebuds. The dress was also satin, a rich emerald green. It was simply cut and unadorned, but very low in front, exposing her lovely shoulders.

  The girls worked long on her hair, arranging it high on her head in loose, fat curls and waves. They kept checking the number of pins to hold it up, trying for as few as possible. Twice they removed all the pins and watched their artwork fall down her back in beautiful disarray. After the third try, they seemed satisfied. Their mood lightened as they became more deeply involved in their task, and they giggled often.

  “Madame Nicole is very pleased with you. She says you may be the best girl ever offered. The men will be very happy.”

  “We’ll show you off just right. Carrie and I have done this lots of times, but never with anyone as pretty as you. Sometimes we use makeup on the body, but you don’t need it at all.”

  As Morgan’s silence lengthened, they stopped talking.

  “Now you just stay right here while we go get ready. Don’t do anything to muss yourself.”

  It seemed only minutes before the two girls reappeared. Morgan gasped at their costumes. Their dresses were black with tight long sleeves and very low square-cut necks. The gowns were pulled in very tight at the waist, and the skirts flaring out dramatically. The dresses ended at mid-thigh. The girls’ legs were covered only by sheer black silk stockings. Each had on black high-heeled pumps.

  Morgan had never seen a woman expose her legs before. If the dresses had reached even to just the ankle, they would have been indecent. But this was beyond her imagination.

  “These are our special dresses for the sales. Aren’t they pretty?”

  “But so much of you is exposed! How can you appear before men like that?”

  “Like this? Honey, you’re going to expose a lot more tonight.”

  Morgan stared at the girl. “What do you mean?”

  “Carrie didn’t mean a thing. Now you come along.” Over Morgan’s shoulder she gave Carrie a stern look.

  Morgan met the other three women in the hall, each attended by two servant girls dressed exactly like the two beside Morgan. The four captives barely nodded to one another, each apprehensive about the events to follow.

  They were led to a narrow backstage area. They could hear the muffled coughs and voices of men—many men—on the other side of the curtain.

  Madame Nicole rushed to them. “Girls … be careful they do not muss their dresses. It will be Mary first, Jessy, Alice, and last”—she looked adoringly at Morgan—“our Morgan.” She was gone, and soon they heard polite applause.

  As Nicole addressed her audience, her voice purred. “My dear gentlemen: The first lady is Mary. Mary will need some taming to overcome some of the unpleasant aspects of her personality. But as our Mr. Shakespeare has noted, there are ways to tame a shrew.” Polite laughter. “I apologize for the need for Samson, but I hope you will agree with me that Mary is well worth the extra effort.”

  They heard the soft sounds of an orchestra.

  “What do you think is going on?” Jessy leaned toward Morgan.

  They heard Mary’s voice from the stage. “No!” Then the crack of Samson’s whip.

  Alice looked anxiously at the other two women, quickly losing some of her recently acquired courage. They heard Mary sobbing. After a few moments the music stopped and they heard the tearing of paper.

  “Mr. Thomas Millsant has just made a purchase,” Nicole called out cheerfully.

  There was a rustle of curtains at the other end of the stage, and the three women turned to see Mary, her face buried in her hands, her body gleaming in the dim light.

  “Oh, my God! She’s naked!” Alice seemed ready to faint.

  Before Jessica could speak, her maids were hurrying her to the other side of the curtain. Morgan had a glimpse of Jessy’s frightened face before she disappeared.

  Again Morgan heard Nicole sketching the personality of one of “her” women. She exclaimed over Jessy’s sweetness and complaisance. Again there was music, but there were no screams of protest from Jessy. There was polite, interested applause when the music stopped.

  Morgan did not look at the opposite end of the stage when Jessy left it. She tried to make her mind blank, to will it somewhere other than where it was. She knew now what was to happen to her. Alice walked past her. Only vaguely did she hear Madame Nicole expounding on Alice’s virtues and virginity.

  It seemed only seconds had gone by when she heard applause, much louder than before, and Madame Nicole’s voice announcing the winner.

  Her two servants helped her stand up. They smoothed her hair and dress. Morgan heard Madame Nicole.

  “Now, gentlemen, the one you have waited for, the one all San Francisco has heard about. I must warn you now that if the bids are not high enough, I will reject them all. Now we will show you our jewel.”

  The music began and Morgan was led out onto the stage. She was glad there was