by Wendy Vella
“Not hard enough!”
“I’m moving as fast as I can,” she muttered at his curt tone and then had to brace her hands on her thighs as she started coughing.
“Charlotte!” She heard his urgent call, and it made her hurry to the window, where she threw out the sheet, then climbed on the ledge. Closing her eyes, she then lowered herself over the edge and gripped the sheet.
“Move your hands, Charlotte, that’s it.” Lord Needly called encouragement along with several other people as she lowered herself slowly. The knot gave as she neared the bottom, and she felt herself falling. Bracing herself for the impact that was sure to come, she clenched her eyes shut and landed in a strong pair of arms.
“It’s all right. I have you now.” He held her close, and Charlotte allowed herself a moment of weakness to sag against him before he lowered her gently to her feet.
“Th-thank you,” she said, before doubling over to cough. “Dandy,” she managed to rasp out.
“Right here, Miss Radley.”
Her dear old friend appeared at her side, followed by Fred. She wrapped her arms around them both and held them for precious seconds.
“Where shall we go, Miss Radley?” Fred said.
“We shall be all right, Fred.” She placed a hand on his head. “You let me worry about where we are to go, only know that we will stay together, I promise you.”
Where would they go? Dear lord, how could she protect them?
“Everyone move back now!”
Charlotte felt hands pull her backward and noted that her home was now engulfed in flames and that it would soon spread to the building on the right.
“Dear Lord, they will all burn down, surely?” she whispered in horror.
“There is nothing on the left, Charlotte.” Lord Needly’s arm circled her waist as he spoke. “And it will have nowhere to go after the building on the right, as there is a lane between that and the next building.”
“But people live in those places.”
“Yes, and they, like you, will now be homeless.”
She let him take her hand and lead her down the lane as the fire continued to rage.
“I must help.” She tried to struggle free.
“No one can do anything now,” he said, picking her up.
“Fred and Dandy!” Charlotte cried.
“They are with my friend, Leo,” Lord Needly said, and then they were running. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held tight until they had reached the end of the lane, where she was surprised to see a hackney.
“Everyone inside,” Lord Needly said, walking in with her in his arms. Fred, Dandy, and the man Charlotte guessed was Leo joined them. She was then lowered to the seat as Needly took the one beside her.
“I should go back,” she said, looking out the hackney window at the flames rising into the night sky. “To check no one is hurt, and look after the homeless.”
“No, you shouldn’t.” Lord Needly wrapped his fingers around her wrist to shackle her at his side. “For now, worry about yourself, Fred, and Dandy. Tomorrow you can come back.”
“Yes, tomorrow,” Charlotte whispered, wondering what was to become of them now.
“We found the ladies who had been kidnapped tonight.”
Charlotte suddenly felt overcome as she looked at Lord Needly. “Are they well?”
He nodded. “They are in good health.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte bit her lip to hold back the tears. “We owe you a great deal.” She looked across the carriage to the man seated beside Dandy. Dark haired and dark eyed, he was not as tall as his friend, but equally as handsome and had the same dangerous air about him.
“My name is Leo,” he said, giving her a charming smile, “and rescuing damsels is my forte.”
She couldn’t find a smile, so instead, nodded before facing Lord Needly. He was so close that his thigh pressed to hers. The warmth of his body seeped into her.
“I need to find lodgings for the night.” Charlotte couldn’t seem to draw her eyes from his. How could she ask this of him when she owed him so much already? “I-I—could I please have the loan of enough money to pay for a night’s lodging, Lord Needly?” She closed her eyes at the shame, then opened them as she felt his finger run down her cheek. “I would not ask for myself, but Fred and Dandy—”
“Sssh. It will be all right, I promise.” He touched her lips, stopping her words. “Was it deliberate, do you think, Charlotte?”
“The fire?”
“Yes.”
“It was deliberate, my lord,” Dandy said from across the carriage. “I heard the door being broken down, and when I went to investigate, I saw the fire.”
Charlotte watched Lord Needly’s hand clench briefly.
“And which of your enemies do you believe would do this?”
“I don’t know,” she said, unable to deny the fact that she did have enemies who wanted her dead, or at least out of East London. Could her father be responsible for the fire? Had he attempted to burn down her house with her, Fred, and Dandy inside? That deed showed real hatred, to her mind, and she knew he was capable of that.
“Are you taking us to the lodgings now, my lord?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte wondered where they would sleep that night. She was tired, scared, and very aware of the fact they were lucky to be alive. She, Fred, and Dandy had no possessions or money now, and no way of surviving until she secured employment. The money she kept in her office was gone. It had only been a small amount that she’d collected after selling her mother’s jewelry, but it had been enough for them to survive on for many years if she was frugal. Even that was taken from her now.
She did not want Fred turning back to his old life, and Dandy would not survive if he were forced to live on the streets again. They would come about, Charlotte told herself. They were all survivors in their way, and this was just another setback in a long list of them.
I am so tired of struggling against the odds. She wanted to fall sideways into the arms of the man beside her. But she could not because she was a bastard and he a lord, and even if he cared for her, which Charlotte knew he did not, he would never be more to her than a distant acquaintance. Viscounts did not become involved with bastard daughters of dukes.
Chapter Nine
Charlotte was pale, her face leached of color, and the carriage had begun to smell of smoke, which told Marcus how close she had come to the fire. She was coughing, and her voice was raspy, all signs she had inhaled more smoke than was healthy. Her dressing gown was torn and filthy, and she had lost a slipper but seemed unaware of that fact. Her hair was half in a braid; the rest fell in tangles to her shoulder.
He and Leo had run down Thimble Lane, his heart in his mouth as he realized it was Charlotte’s house on fire. They’d arrived in time to see the boy, Fred, hanging from the window by a sheet. He had caught him and then asked the people gathered who else was in the house. They had told him that only Miss Radley remained.
Only? Dear Christ, his heart had nearly stopped. He’d wanted to run into the flames to reach her, had even taken a step in that direction when Leo gripped his arm and made him stop, telling him that Charlotte was at the window.
He’d seen her then and roared for her to hurry. She’d disappeared, coughing several times, before reappearing. Fear had gripped him as she climbed onto that window ledge and then lowered herself until she was dangling from the sheet. His heart had thumped as he had watched, helpless, Charlotte’s hands moving with agonizing slowness until the sheet had come loose, and she had fallen into his waiting arms.
The entire incident had unsettled him to the point where he was struggling to come to terms with what he felt for the woman. Why did he care so much for her well-being, of all people? She was nothing like the ladies of his acquaintance; in fact, she was not like anyone he had ever known. Surely that was the reason he felt as he did? It was the novelty of Charlotte Radley that made him aware of her. It was simple fear also, Marcus reason
ed. The need to see a person he had come to respect unharmed. Nothing more, he soothed himself.
Her eyes were closed, the dark fan of lashes standing out against the pallor of her cheeks, and he clenched his fists to stop from touching her to reassure her that she was safe.
“Chadley will be pleased.”
“He’ll cope,” Marcus said, watching Charlotte’s eyes flutter open at Leo’s words.
“Well, you certainly have the room in that bloody great house you rattle about in,” Leo said.
Her eyes were now moving between him and Leo.
“Where are we going, Lord Needly?”
“To my house.”
“We cannot stay there!”
“For tonight you can.”
“But your staff—”
“Will finally have something to do for the handsome wages I pay them.”
She lifted a hand to push hair from her face, and Marcus saw they were bleeding. Taking them in his, he studied the damaged skin.
“Was this from the sheet?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry you were hurt, Charlotte.”
Her smile wobbled, but she managed one.
When the carriage pulled up outside his house, Marcus stepped down first, then helped her to alight. Fred and Dandy followed. Leo stayed seated.
“As I can be of no further assistance to you this evening, I shall see you in the morning. It has been quite an evening, even for us,” he added, shaking the hand Marcus held out to him.
“It has that,” Marcus said, before shutting the door and nodding to the driver to take Leo home. He then moved everyone into his house.
“My lord, how may I be of assistance to you?” Chadley appeared from the depths of the house.
“Chadley, there has been a fire and Miss Radley, Fred, and Dandy will be staying with us for the night,” he said, pointing to each. “They will require beds; food and drink also.”
His butler didn’t flinch as he recognized Charlotte. “At once, Lord Needly.”
“My staff will see you all to your beds,” he said as footmen and maids began to appear.
“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said. “This is a great inconvenience, and I should not allow it, yet do not have the strength to move another step tonight.”
Marcus watched as she smothered another yawn. She looked so small and vulnerable standing there in that dark green dressing gown, with her hair a tangled mess and one foot bare.
“I shall see you in the morning,” Marcus said, when what he wanted to do was hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. For that reason alone he forced himself to walk away from her. Miss Charlotte Radley was a danger to him in many ways, and he could not afford that weakness, not now, not ever.
Marcus sat in his office and drank brandy, staring at the toes of his boots, which he had propped on his desk. When he was sure his houseguests were settled for the night, he would find his bed, but not before. He had no wish to see Charlotte again so soon.
Tomorrow he would meet with his friends at Night Street, and they would discuss what had transpired this evening. They would dig deeper into who was selling young women as sex slaves, and he would discuss the Duke of Marlton and the possibility that he could be behind Charlotte’s abduction and tonight’s fire. In that at least, he could help her. No woman deserved to live in constant fear, and when Marcus walked away from her, he wanted to do so knowing she would be safe to live her life as she chose.
“Dear God, I pray she chooses a less perilous lifestyle,” he said, regaining his feet and heading for his bed. “Are all our guests settled, Chadley?” His butler was waiting for him.
“We have a slight problem, I’m afraid. I had the terrace room prepared on the third floor for Miss Radley. However, she has insisted on sleeping in the servants’ quarters, but there is no bed available. Therefore, she has decided to sleep on the floor in the maids’ room.”
And just like that, his hard-won calm had gone. Marcus stalked to the servants’ stairs and climbed until he’d reached their floor. Stomping down the hall, he located the maids’ quarters simply by following Charlotte’s voice.
“No, really, I shall be just fine on the floor, Miss Hopkins.”
Reaching the door, he knocked.
“Lord Needly!”
“Pardon the intrusion,” he said to the wide-eyed maid who opened it. Entering the room, he nodded to the three other women and then glared at the one on the floor. “I shall not disturb you for long.” Walking to where Charlotte lay in a nest of blankets, he bent at the knees, picked her up, and then left the room.
“Put me down, I was to sleep there!” she said as he headed for the stairs and started to climb.
“God’s blood, woman, you test my patience,” Marcus snarled.
“I don’t see why.”
She was close enough so that all he’d have to do was turn his head and he could kiss her, so he kept his eyes forward.
“You are not going to sleep on the floor in my servants’ rooms when there are plenty of warm, soft beds in the rest of the house.”
“But I should sleep in the servants’ quarters,” she insisted. “It is the right thing to do.”
Reaching her room, he juggled her about in his arms until he could twist the door handle, and walked inside. A fire burned, a bath had been drawn, and a tray of food awaited her.
“Why,” he said, lowering her down his body and biting back a groan as he felt her soft unbound curves beneath, “should you sleep in the servants’ quarters?”
She bit her lip as she thought about that. “I am a baseborn woman who has a house that takes in prostitutes. My life is spent among those who do not frequent your world. I am not the kind of woman who should sleep in such a room.” She looked around her at the soft cream walls and deep burgundy bedcovers and curtains.
“You are worth more than any woman I know.” Marcus gave up the fight then and touched her. Slipping his fingers beneath her hair, his hand circled her neck. “You are every inch a lady of integrity and honor, and so beautiful you make me ache to kiss you.”
“Oh… I don’t know how to respond to that, my lord,” she said, moving in to his body.
“Marcus,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to hear my name on your lips.”
“Marcus,” she sighed, and he was lost. He wanted this woman so much his body shook with need.
“I-I smell of smoke.”
“I don’t care.” He moved his lips down her neck, licking the path as he went, smiling as the breath hitched in her throat. “I want you, Charlotte, very much.”
Marcus lifted his head to look at her, waiting for her to make the next move.
“Are you sure, Marcus?”
“I am, are you?”
“Yes, oh, yes.”
Their lips met again, his taking, teasing, as his hand moved over her body.
“I want to see you, Charlotte. Will you show me what I long for?”
She nodded, then took a step backward. Her fingers trembled as she removed her dressing gown, then fumbled with the buttons of her nightdress.
“Let me.” Marcus undid each one slowly, and reached for the hem. He pulled it up and off her body. His heart slammed into his chest at the beauty he had uncovered.
Her skin was pale, and her breasts full and high, the nipples like ripe berries. He traced his fingers over the curve of one shoulder, and her skin felt like silk, soft and smooth. He memorized each curve and swell. Her limbs were long and slender, and her feet narrow and delicate, and he wanted to kiss every inch.
“You are so beautiful, words fail me,” Marcus rasped, sliding his fingers down her arm until he reached her breast. Brushing them over the tip of a taut nipple, she bit back a moan. He pulled her hair free of the braid, separating it with his fingers, and then pushed it behind her shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do.”
He kissed her softly. “There are no rules, Charlotte. Do what feels right to
you,” Marcus said, running his hands over her body, igniting them both. His fingers were gentle, and she closed her eyes as he touched the soft planes of her stomach. Leaning closer he kissed the moan from her lips, sinking into her mouth as her body brushed his.
His kissed her as his hands explored, mapping her thighs, touching the soft hair between and skimming the damp folds that held her secrets. Her hands traced his chest to curl around his neck, closing the small gap between their bodies. Blood pounded through his head as he lost reason and was driven only by need.
It was hot and sensual, and his body was a furnace as he skimmed his fingers over each vertebra before caressing the soft swells of her buttocks.
“I want to feel you also, Marcus.”
He released her briefly to shed his clothes, before pulling her back into his arms, flesh to naked flesh. God, she was heaven in a lush bundle.
Kissing his way down her chest, he reached her breasts and licked a taut nipple, enjoying the soft sigh she gave. Sucking it into his mouth, he swirled it around his tongue.
“Dear Lord.”
He smiled against her warm flesh and moved to the other breast, where he continued the sweet torment until she was writhing and begging for more. Walking her backward, he lowered her to the bed and bent to kiss her stomach.
“Marcus?”
“Let me make love to all of you, Charlotte.” Her nod had him placing a hot open-mouthed kiss on her stomach before he parted her thighs and moved lower.
Her hands clenched in his hair as he licked the damp folds and then delved deep inside. He stroked the tight bud and continued to torment until she arched off the bed as she found her release.
“I have… I did not know I could feel like that.” She looked dazed as he climbed over her body to brace his hands on either side of her head.
“There is more,” he whispered against her lips. Moving into the cradle of her thighs he pushed slowly into her tight, wet sheath. He murmured words as she felt pain, then broke through the barrier with a groan. The bliss of being inside Charlotte was unbelievable.
Holding still, he looked down at her. “Charlotte, do you feel pain?”
