Lords Of Night Street Collection: Books 1-4

by Wendy Vella

  “I could kill you right here, and no one would ever know.”

  “Yes, and you could do so easily, but as the words tueri et servite—protect and serve—are on the small plaque above your door, I don't believe you will.”

  “So not only are you beautiful, you read Latin,” Marcus drawled. “However, I hate to disappoint you, Miss Radley, but that plaque was there when I purchased the house.” He was lying, of course. Leo, Nick, and Jacob had the same plaque above their doors.

  “Flattery comes naturally to you, Lord Needly, so I will pay it no heed. However, I would ask that you at least hear what I have to say.”

  His mind and body were now alert; since entering the room and exchanging words with Miss Radley, he had shaken off the languor that had settled around him as the evening had progressed. He now felt awake on all fronts.

  “You have ten minutes, Miss Radley.”

  “Over the past three months, five prostitutes have been kidnapped. Tonight, I woke to a scream outside my window, and when I reached my doorstep, I found two masked men on horseback with two girls draped across their saddles. They were screaming for release. I ran toward them, attempting to reach Molly, one of the girls, but the men struck out at me and—”

  Marcus touched her chin, turning it until he could see all of her face. His eyes found a dark, angry bruise under her ear, along the edge of her jaw.

  “I-I was pushed to the ground and hit my head. When I woke, it was to find myself alone on the path.” She pushed his hand aside. “I ran inside and dressed, then set out to find them. I went to Madam Delana's and other brothels, but the girls weren't there. I searched but found no sign of them nor heard a whisper of their names.”

  Marcus actually shook his head. “As I stated earlier, Miss Radley, you are either brave or foolish. To have entered brothels, gambling halls, and areas of London most grown men will not venture into is extremely foolish. Not to mention walking around London at night. Please tell me you did not do so alone.”

  “I am not completely without wits, Lord Needly. I did not set out alone, nor did I enter the brothels, but sent notes inside to the women I knew, to check if there was any word of the missing girls.”

  “My mind is at ease.”

  She huffed out a breath at his sarcasm.

  “I would never enter them at night with so many inebriated men inside,” she said, and Marcus wondered what the hell this woman's story was. She had the address of someone who walked in his world, yet she appeared to associate with prostitutes and knew the locations of places he’d think twice about entering alone. Was she a madam? Did she own and run a brothel?

  “Time is of the essence, Lord Needly, girls are being taken off the streets for whatever purpose…” She pressed a hand to her lips and it was the first real sign she was deeply upset. “These men must be stopped, and those girls found.”

  “What is it that you do, Miss Radley?”

  “I run a safe house for women of the night. They come to me when they are sick or thrown out of their brothels. They come to me if they are with child or if they simply wish to start a new life.”

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. “Excellent, just what I needed at two a.m., a bloody good Samaritan,” he muttered.

  “As someone who has always had a roof over his noble head and a full belly, my lord, I would not expect you to understand that prostitutes also have needs. Most of these women do not simply wake up one morning and decided to walk through the dismal, damp streets of London each night, where men will paw them for a few pitiful coins. Often this is not a choice for them but their only option.”

  “A word of caution, Miss Radley, if you are trying to enlist my help then don’t insult me. Furthermore, you know nothing about me,” Marcus said, but he was stung by the truth of her words. He had never considered the life of a prostitute before today.

  The hand she pressed to her forehead shook as she inhaled deeply, and Marcus watched as she struggled to regain control of herself.

  “Sit, before you fall, and I shall have tea brought for you.” Marcus took in her pallor and imagined her head and jaw were hurting, especially as she had obviously been knocked unconscious by that blow earlier this evening.

  “I—thank you, no. I must continue my search if you will not help me. I cannot allow any more girls to be taken, to be hurt or abused, not after what they have already endured.”

  She tried to pass him, but Marcus blocked her exit.

  “You are not going back out there, alone,” he added.

  “But I must.” She placed a hand on his chest and tried to push him aside, but Marcus simply braced his legs. “I have asked the authorities for help but they just brush my words aside as those of a woman who is not in her right mind. Don’t you see, Lord Needly, I am the only hope those missing girls have.”

  He saw the desperation and pain in her eyes, reading each emotion as she battled to hold them inside, and suddenly he wanted to help her, this woman who ran a house for prostitutes, who had walked around the ugliest streets of London looking for kidnapped girls. “I will help you.”

  “You will. I—oh dear.” The first tear slipped over her lashes. “I am not a watering pot in the normal course of events, my lord, and apologize for being so now.”

  “Think nothing of it.” Marcus took her arm and lowered her into a chair. She was slender, but he felt the strength in her body. Her arms were firm, suggesting she used them for more than just letter writing and taking tea. “After what you have already endured this evening, I'm sure your tears are well overdue.”

  “Tears do nothing but make you weak,” she said, sniffing.

  “Not a label you often wear, I am sure.” Marcus took the seat opposite so he was no longer towering over her.

  “How will you find them?” She brushed aside his words.

  “Before we continue, I must insist you keep my identity a secret, Miss Radley, and also ask that you ensure the boy will too.”

  “Of course. We will tell no one, I promise you, Lord Needly.”

  For some reason, Marcus believed her. There was something about this woman that intrigued him, and he hadn't been intrigued by a woman in a long time.

  Chapter Two

  “I would ask you to tell me everything you know now about the kidnappings, Miss Radley, anything about the men who took the girls tonight. I will need the descriptions of the girls also. Try to think of any small detail.”

  Charlotte felt light-headed with relief. The pain in her jaw and head were draining her energy and had she not sat, she would probably have fallen. She had no wish to fall before this man.

  When Fred had told her of the letter he'd delivered to Lord Needly, she'd been intrigued, as the reputations of the Lords of Night Street were fast becoming legendary. The papers were full of the many cases they had solved. However, no one knew the identities of the noblemen known only as Valiant, Valorous, Noble, and Gallant, only that they were believed to be of noble birth.

  “Of course,” Charlotte said, looking at the man now seated across from her. He was big, filling the seat with his large body. Dark blue eyes had focused on her from the minute he'd stepped into the room, and if Charlotte had been the nervous type, she would have picked up her skirts and fled long before now. His was a face that made you take a second look, especially when coupled with the sheer strength of his personality. Charlotte hadn’t spent a great deal of time around titled men like this one. He was extremely handsome with high slashing cheekbones and aristocratic features, someone she could tell liked to be in control. However, as she had the same traits, she did not find them compelling in another.

  His blond hair was thick and curled slightly, and she could see a small patch of hair through the open collar of his loose shirt. He wore breeches and boots, but no necktie, waistcoat, or jacket. He’d said he had been drinking, and Charlotte wondered if somewhere in this house the other Lords of Night Street were as informally dressed as he, discussing their latest case.

>   “The two girls abducted often stand on my street. Molly and Helen.” She shot him a look, but his face remained still, no disgust marring his handsome features. “And I fear whoever has taken them has done so to put them to work in another brothel, or sold them. I worry that even now they are on a boat bound for somewhere.”

  “The other girls that you believe have been kidnapped, were they also taken from the streets?”

  “I know they have been taken,” Charlotte confirmed. “And yes, one from the street. The other worked in a brothel and was abducted as she left the Home to run an errand.”

  “Home?” His blue eyes stared at her intently.

  She'd known who Lord Needly was, of course. Being raised the bastard child of a duke meant you heard the gossip about others of noble birth, even if you were secreted away in the country. People talked, servants, guests, and Charlotte had been good at hiding and listening to people when they didn’t know she was near.

  Lord Needly was respected among his peers and sat in the House of Lords. He had fought for his country, but she had no idea in what capacity, as no one seemed to know the answer to that. He was wealthy, and had a brother and a married sister; beyond that, she had heard rumors that he liked to keep the company of women and enjoyed his life in society.

  “I try to create a welcoming atmosphere for the people who come to my house, no matter how long their stay is, and they named it the ‘Home.”

  “I see.” He steepled his fingers, blue eyes still steady on her face. “I should imagine there are a few people who do not like your interference, Miss Radley.”

  “There have been incidents that support your belief, Lord Needly.”

  “And what incidents do you speak off, Miss Radley?”

  “As you say, people see my house as interference; they seem threatened by me offering the woman help. I've had a burning torch flung in my window, which Fred was quick enough to fling out again, and other small incidents. However, I had believed those days were now over as I pay the money… or had done until tonight.”

  “Money?”

  “I live in an area most people would not walk through in daylight, Lord Needly. Therefore, it was pointed out that it was in my best interests to pay for protection, and, until last night, that seemed to keep those who were unhappy with me away.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “Someone threw manure over my front step.”

  “Will you drink some brandy if I get it?” His words were gruff, and Charlotte thought that perhaps he was unused to woman speaking so directly in his parlor.

  “There is no need, my lord, I assure you I am quite all right.”

  “Your eyes and the color of your skin would suggest otherwise, Miss Radley.”

  “I wish to tell you all I know, Lord Needly, so that you may find those girls. There is no time for anything else.”

  He looked at her for a heartbeat and then lowered his head in a regal nod. “Very well, please continue.”

  “All the girls who were taken have spent time with me in the Home. It could be a coincidence.”

  “But you don’t believe it is. You believe that in some way what is taking place involves you?”

  “Yes.” Charlotte felt ill at the thought. “Yet I don’t know who is doing this, or why someone would take them because of me.”

  He questioned her further and Charlotte told him everything she could remember. He listened intently, eyes focused on her face, and she felt like a moth trapped by a flame.

  “I-I believe I have told you everything now, Lord Needly.” Not everything, Charlotte thought, but she could not tell him the rest because surely it had no bearing on what had happened to those women. Dear God, please let it have no bearing.

  “Then it is time for you to go home, Miss Radley, and I shall come to you when I have information regarding the missing girls.”

  “If you decide to look for them now, I had hoped to come with you.” Charlotte regained her feet quickly; too quickly, as she felt her head spin. A large hand gripped her elbow to steady her.

  “It is obvious you have taken a blow to the head, Miss Radley. Therefore, you need to go home and rest. You have asked for my help, and now must trust that I will do what is right for your girls, but to do that I cannot have you with me, nor would I take you to the places I will probably go.”

  Charlotte braced her legs before pushing away from him. “I have seen all that is to be seen in the worst parts of London, Lord Needly; you could not shock me, I assure you.”

  “Perhaps, but still you will not be coming with me. Go home and sit at least, drink tea, pace if you must, but you will be more hindrance than help to me.”

  “Very well.” Charlotte nodded slowly, as her head was thumping. “I shall wait for any word from you, Lord Needly.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Number twenty-two Thimble Lane, my lord, it is in the—”

  “I know where it is, Miss Radley, and may I add it is not a place fit for anyone to live, most especially not a lady.”

  “I am not a lady, nor do I need your censure, Lord Needly.” Charlotte attempted to rein in her temper. “If you have no wish to venture there, then send word, and I shall come to you.” A lot of wealthy people did not step foot into that part of London unless they were seeking the allure of a brothel or gambling den.

  “Should I be insulted that you believe venturing into the East End of London is beneath me, Miss Radley?”

  Charlotte wished she'd kept her mouth shut, but she had come across so much bigotry and bias in the last few years, she tended to group all peers together. It was a failing, and one she must try to overcome. Yet in all honestly, no person of noble birth had ever looked on what she was doing with anything other than disgust, and she saw no reason for that to change with this man.

  “I apologize, my lord,” Charlotte said stiffly. She must appease him. If she had any hope of finding her girls, she would need his help. “My only excuse is that history has taught me those of your kind do not see my vocation in a good light.”

  His eyes ran over her face slowly, and Charlotte found herself holding her breath. This man was disturbing. There was something about him that seemed to make the air around her come to life. He was big and vital, and had aura of careful control.

  “My kind?” he said, softly.

  “Men of noble birth.” Charlotte lifted her chin. She had learned to stand her ground with people, or they took advantage of her, and she would not allow anyone to do that to her again.

  “You are very young to have such a view, Miss Radley. I cannot believe that all noblemen have disillusioned you?”

  He was playing with her now, like a large lion, reaching out a paw to bat its prey into retaliating.

  “I am twenty-six years old, my lord, and have no time to banter words with you at such an hour. Those girls need your help, and as I have stated, if you will not go to their aid then I will.” Charlotte moved slowly and was relieved when her head did not spin.

  “I gave you my word that I would, Miss Radley. Accusing me of reneging on that is not a way to get into my good graces.”

  “I'm sorry if my words have upset you, my lord,” Charlotte said, realizing she’d tweaked his pride. “It was not my intention; I merely wish to find those girls and ensure no more are taken.”

  “I do not get upset, Miss Radley,” he said in clipped tones. “However, I do not like people who have no acquaintance with me casting judgments.”

  “It was not my intention,” Charlotte said, walking around him in a large half circle, as one would an angry beast, “and rather than cause you any further distress I shall leave.” She had her hand on the door when his covered hers.

  “Young ladies get distressed, Miss Radley, men get angry,” he gritted out. “I will see you to your carriage.”

  “I have no carriage.”

  “Then how did you get here?”

  “I walked.”

  “You walked here also, and that was af
ter walking through some of the more notorious streets of East London? God Lord, surely it took you close to two hours?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I could not find a hackney, and I was not alone. Fred is with me.”

  “And Fred is?” The words were snapped out, and she could see he was getting angrier with every one she uttered.

  “A boy.”

  “Chadley!” Lord Needly held her eyes as he roared the name, and seconds later, the butler she had bullied into letting her into the house appeared.

  “Call for my carriage please.”

  “At once, my lord.”

  “It’s three a.m., Lord Needly!” Charlotte said, horrified that a poor servant was even now being roused from their warm bed. “I assure you there is no need for this.”

  “There is every bloody need!”

  “Do not use that language with me,” Charlotte snapped.

  He was so close, his body just inches from hers, his head lowered slightly as he looked down at her.

  “You associate with prostitutes and no doubt other more nefarious individuals, yet you don’t like me saying the word bloody?”

  “They try not to not curse in front of me, my lord.”

  His bark of laughter was loud, echoing around the walls. Charlotte looked at the polished tiles and grand, sweeping staircase off the Needly townhouse. Her father’s house had been like this but grander.

  “I apologize, Miss Radley.” He bowed deeply, as one would to a duchess.

  “Thank you.”

  Silence settled around them, and Charlotte wanted to twitch and shuffle her feet but did not. She had given those nervous traits up when she came to London.

  “I will wait outside for the carriage, Lord Needly, if you wish to retire.”

  “You have not met many gentlemen, have you, Miss Radley?”

  She shook her head.

  “A gentleman would not allow a woman to wait outside for a carriage when she could do so inside, where it is warm. He would also not trust her not to walk off into the night, considering she arrived on foot.”