by Wendy Vella
“Much more, brother.” The woman’s smile was evil.
“You are both disgraceful,” Charlotte said, which made them laugh. “You will not get away with this. The Lords of Night Street are already investigating the abduction of those girls, and they will find you and see that you are both brought to justice.”
She watched Mr. Hollander frown. “Yes, that was not well done of you, Charlotte, but my sister and I have decided that you will be the last girl we sell until things settle down once again. After all, the Lords of Night Street are reputed to be noblemen, and they will soon become bored when the trail goes cold.”
“They will not give up, just as they did not give up until those girls were found.”
“We lost a tidy sum last night.” Cécile glared at her. “But we should collect that and more for you, a pretty virgin.”
Mr. Hollander laughed. “Tonight, my dear Miss Radley, both your body and soul will be broken, and I wish I could be there to witness the act.”
She felt ill at the prospect of what awaited her in the hands of the man who paid the highest price. Charlotte could not allow that to happen; she had to escape somehow.
“It’s my experience,” she said, with a calm she was not feeling, “that inevitably, vile, perfidious people meet the worst end.”
“You always had spirit,” Mr. Hollander said, grabbing the cloth in Charlotte’s hands and ripping it away. “But even you will be broken, my dear, mark my words.”
She did not flinch as he ran his eyes greedily over her body.
“I will enjoy watching you both hang,” she hissed.
“We will not hang, my dear, because we provide a service to the city of London. Most of our regular customers are made up of the most powerful people in the United Kingdom.”
Charlotte knew Mr. Hollander spoke the truth because many of the prostitutes she had come in contact with had told her the nobility made up their biggest clientele.
“We may need to give her something to calm her, or they’ll have a difficult time auctioning her,” Cecile said to her brother, as they both continued to study her.
“Do it,” Mr. Hollander said, “and then dress her like the whore she is about to become.”
Charlotte tried to run for the door, but they caught her and carried her back to the bed, where they bound her feet once more and then her mouth was forced open and something vile poured into it.
“You’ll feel calmer now, sweet Charlotte.”
She gave Mr. Hollander a last pleading look as her thoughts grew hazy and her limbs began to feel heavy. Seconds later her eyes closed.
…
“Tell the Duke of Marlton that Lords Needly and Attwood are here to see him.”
Marcus wanted to storm into the house and demand answers, but Nick said all that would get them was thrown out.
Charlotte had been gone for hours and the urgency inside him was growing with each minute that passed. He needed to find her, needed to tell her he loved her and that he was a fool. She had to stay safe until Marcus reached her. She was out there somewhere. Possibly injured, or being subjected to God knew what, and he had no idea where. Never had he felt so helpless. His thoughts crossed between anger and despair constantly.
“He is not home to visitors this evening, my lords.”
“Tell him the matter is urgent and it would be in his best interests to speak with us,” Nick said.
They waited in the hallway, cooling their heels on the green-and-white tiled floor.
“I need to be out there looking, Nick.”
“I know you do, Marcus, but where would you start? If the Duke can give us a lead, then we will find Charlotte a great deal faster than we could running around London with no direction. Let our people do their work, and by morning we will have her, I’m sure.”
“I cannot wait until morning. I fear for my sanity and Charlotte’s safety if she is not found before then.”
“We will find her, Marcus. You must have faith in what we are and do best.”
Marcus threw back his head and looked at the ceiling. “Is this how you felt when Grace was taken?”
His friend studied him. “As if you have a fire burning a hole in your chest, and every muscle in your body is clenched so tight you fear you may shatter at any moment?”
Marcus snorted. “God help me, yes.”
“Then yes, that is exactly how I felt when Grace was kidnapped.”
“His Grace will see you now.”
They followed the butler through the house, and Marcus remembered Charlotte telling him she had never been to London, never met any of the duke’s friends here.
“He never brought her here.”
Nick knew what he meant. “Does that surprise you, knowing what we do of the man? I’m only surprised that he acknowledged her and kept her in his house.”
“Because he knew one day she would be useful to him,” Marcus growled.
“Very likely.”
“If I find out he is behind her disappearance, I’ll kill him.”
“No, you will not,” Nick said out the side of his mouth, just before they were shown into a room.
The duke sat in a chair beside the fire with a decanter at his side and a glass in one hand. Marcus searched for any similarities between the man and the woman he loved, and saw it in the cheekbones and curve of the chin but nothing more. There was no likeness to his beautiful Charlotte in the cruel line of this man’s mouth or angry expression on his face.
“What is so important that you must call on a man when he is seeking a few moments of solitude before leaving for his evening’s social engagements?”
Marcus and Nick had discussed how to deal with the duke, and Nick had said to leave the questioning to him, and Marcus would, but only if he could get the information they needed. If not, Marcus would pull the pistol from inside his jacket and use it to extract it.
“It is a matter of some delicacy, your grace,” Nick said.
“Your daughter has been kidnapped and I hold you responsible, your grace,” Marcus said running out of patience.
“What!” the duke roared as he pushed out of his seat. “You dare to question me about that… that traitorous bitch!”
“Marcus.” He heard Nick’s warning but paid it no heed.
“Charlotte is not the traitor, your grace, you are. You betrothed her to a man old enough to be her grandfather and known for the cruel and sadistic things he does to women.”
“She was lucky I even acknowledged her,” the duke scoffed. “She is worthless, and I have had no contact with her since she ran from my home. It was her mother’s blood, weak and tainted. I should have known she would betray me, just like that bitch did in the end. I wiped my hands of her and was glad of it.”
“That’s not true though, is it,” Marcus said, pulling out his pistol.
“Christ, Marcus.” Nick groaned.
“You had your steward attempt to kidnap her not long ago, but she fought him off and rescued herself.”
He saw the start the duke gave. It was only small, but both Marcus and Nick witnessed it.
“Why?” Marcus said, pointing the pistol at the duke.
“I will ruin you for this, Needly!”
“I doubt that,” Nick sighed. “Considering I will lie and say that you pulled your weapon first, and Marcus was only protecting himself.”
“I am a duke!”
“Who is disliked by everyone, yet no one will admit it to your face,” Nick said.
The duke, seeing he was cornered, sank back into the chair.
“What is your interest in my daughter, Needly?”
Marcus sneered. “A bit late for fatherly concern now, don’t you think?”
The man didn’t flinch, but Marcus had not expected him to. “Why do you want her removed from London?” He couldn’t say killed; just thinking of Charlotte not breathing the same air as he made him light-headed.
“Someone brought to my attention that she was cavorting with prostitutes, and I
could not allow my name linked to that.”
Marcus hadn’t thought he could get angrier; it turned out he was wrong.
“Cavorting! You bigoted bully,” he roared. “She is protecting and helping those in need. She is a bloody saint for what she has done and were you actually to know her as I do you would realize she is a kind and wonderful woman.”
“Women like that don’t change,” the duke snarled. “They are born whores and die that way.”
Marcus knew nothing he said would change the man’s viewpoint, so he stepped closer to the duke and aimed his pistol.
“Tell me where she is.”
“I-I don’t know, my steward was handling it.” For the first time, fear showed in the duke’s eyes.
“And who is your steward?”
“David Hollander.”
“We’re leaving now,” Marcus said, putting his pistol back into his jacket. “But if your daughter is harmed, I am coming back here to kill you.”
The duke’s fingers clenched around the arms of the chair. “You cannot kill me. I am a duke!”
“If”—Marcus shut his eyes briefly at the thought—”Charlotte is dead, then I have nothing to live for, so I will be taking you with me to hell, your grace.”
The man looked shocked.
“But if she lives and accepts me, then I will be marrying your daughter, and I expect nothing but support from you. You will acknowledge her, and you will mention her name in only the most complimentary manner. Because if that is not the case, I will be spreading news of what you have done this night far and wide, and I will do whatever it takes to blacken your reputation.”
“I’m a duke. You can’t ruin me!”
“I can, your grace, and I will, and I will not care how long it takes me. Do you understand what I am saying?”
Something in Marcus’s eyes made the man nod. Perhaps it was the promise of murder.
Minutes later, he and Nick were galloping through the streets.
“I have to say I’ve never wanted you as an enemy, Marcus, but after that display in there, I shall be ensuring that never happens,” Nick said.
“I have always loathed that man, but as he never gave me a reason to do so openly, I did not. That, however, is about to change. Now tell me, why do I know the name Hollander, Nick?”
“Cécile Hollander was a highly sought-after courtesan many years ago. I believe the King even showed an interest in her.”
“Where is she now?”
“Owns an exclusive brothel in Pennville Street, with only the wealthiest clientele. You can’t walk in there without an appointment and once inside you can’t move for nobility and some of London’s most influential industrialists.”
They found Leo and Jacob leaving Night Street and told them what had taken place with the Duke.
“I heard a rumor last year that Hollander’s had auctions, and the men can take the woman he wins away and keep her if that is his wish.”
Leo said this after Marcus had told him the name of the Duke of Marlton’s man of affairs.
“She’s there,” Marcus said suddenly. “She’s at Hollander’s, and they’re going to auction her off to the highest bidder.” He turned his horse and started galloping, with the sound of his friends following.
“How do you know this?” Jacob roared, pulling alongside.
Marcus raised a fist and thumped it against his heart, and that was all the confirmation Jacob needed.
They left their horses a street away from Hollander’s brothel and walked the rest of the way, arriving minutes later at the large brick house. Light blazed from the window, and as they approached, a steady stream of men were being admitted.
“Let me take the lead as we have no invitations,” Leo said. “And for pity’s sake, man, smile or we will not reach the doorstep,” he added, glaring at Marcus.
“I have nothing to smile about,” Marcus snarled.
“Do something with him then,” Leo said, looking at Jacob and Nick, who immediately put Marcus behind them.
“But why will they let us in because of you?” Jacob whispered as they started up the steps.
“Because Cécile Hollander has been trying to get into my breeches for many years.”
“Of course she has.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Your prowess between the sheets is legendary, after all.”
Leo merely shrugged and turned to address the large man on the doorstep.
“Good evening, we would like entrance into Hollander’s this evening, please.”
“Invite only,” the man said.
“Please tell Madam Cécile that Lord Vereton is here.”
The man didn’t look convinced but signaled for someone to go and ask Madam Cécile if Leo could enter.
“She’s here.” Marcus whispered the words, but his friends heard.
The doorman returned. “Madam Cécile would like to welcome you to Hollander’s.”
They were soon inside the lavish house. Women dressed in silks and satins walked between the men, seeing to their needs. Everywhere Marcus looked he saw extravagance. Gilt-framed paintings, ivory statues, and furniture of the finest quality and in the Grecian style. Curtains fell from ceiling to floor in heavy, gold silk, and thick carpets muffled their feet as they walked.
“Good lord, this place looks like a country estate.” Nick’s eyes were going everywhere. “Grace will kill me when she hears I have been here.”
“Don’t tell her,” Leo said.
Nick looked horrified. “I will not lie to my wife. Besides, she’ll know if I do.”
Leo shook his head. “Just another reason that love is not something that will feature in my future.”
“Lord Vereton.”
The woman coming toward them was tall and elegant in black silk, and Marcus wanted to wrap his hands around her slender neck and squeeze until she told him where Charlotte was. The tension inside him was growing, anxiety warring with rage. He was struggling to keep his breathing even and conversing at this point was beyond him.
“Madam Cécile.” Leo took her hand and kissed it.
“Finally you are here in my humble establishment.”
Marcus chafed while Leo complimented the woman, until finally his friend brought up why they had come.
“My dear friend wishes for some special entertainment tonight,” Leo said, waving a hand at Jacob. “He needs a distraction, Madam Cécile, as his heart was recently torn from his chest and now lies in tatters at the feet of a brittle woman who does not return his feelings.”
Marcus heard Jacob’s teeth snap together.
“How sad, but then women can be such fickle creatures.” The woman trilled out a false laugh as she looked the four of them over, taking her time studying each. Marcus managed to school his features to boredom before her eyes fell on him.
“As luck would have it, we do have a little something special happening tonight. However, I’m not sure if I can trust you.” She placed her hand on Leo’s chest and leaned closer.
“We are the souls of discretion, my dear.” Leo placed his hand over hers and leaned so close their lips were almost touching. “Perhaps later…”
Marcus watched the woman lick her lips at the prospect of what later with Leo would bring her.
“I must insist you sign a waiver that what happens here this night is kept a matter of secrecy between those present, gentlemen.”
“Oh, we’d be more than happy to do that, wouldn’t we, men?” Leo sent Marcus a glare, and he grunted his consent.
“It is my hope you have a great deal of money, as tonight’s offering will fetch quite a price,” Madam Cecile said after the forms had been signed.
“We have more than enough,” Leo said, sliding an arm around her waist.
Marcus followed his friends into a large room. Men were milling about, and before them was a black velvet curtain.
“I need to find her now,” Marcus growled. “If she is the woman they are auctioning tonight, I will not allow all these men to see her, not if sh
e is to be my wife.”
“Yes, I can see that could be awkward for you,” Leo whispered.
“Not for me, but Charlotte,” Marcus hissed.
“Of course. Nick and I will create a distraction, you and Jacob then slip out and find Charlotte,” Leo said.
There were enough men in the room that Marcus and Jacob could wander to a door as they chatted, waiting for a diversion they knew was seconds away. Marcus was aware of several familiar faces. Some surprised him, others didn’t, but they had not stopped to converse.
“I say, Trindley, is that a rodent on your collar? By jove, it is!”
Leo’s words had all eyes turning, and seconds later, Marcus and Jacob had slipped through the door and into a hall. They searched several rooms, but none yielded Charlotte. She was there, Marcus could feel her close, and the urgency inside him was palpable now.
“Someone’s coming!” Jacob hissed. They slipped into one of the empty rooms and closed the door, leaving a small opening.
“Bring the girl, the men are ready.” It was Madam Cécile’s voice.
“Excellent, sister. I think we shall make a tidy profit this night.”
Madame Cécile laughed. “It is the first time I have auctioned an innocent woman of breeding.”
The man snorted. “She is a bastard, sister. Thus her blood is tainted.”
“Such a snob, my darling.”
The voices disappeared, and Marcus had the confirmation he needed that Charlotte was there, and about to be auctioned to the highest bidder.
“I’m going to burn this place down when she’s safe!” he growled.
“Perhaps we shall wait until it's empty first.”
“Let’s go.” Marcus slipped out the door and headed to the right, in the direction the man had taken. He found a narrow staircase and climbed, once again with Jacob on his heels.
Charlotte had managed to spit out some of the vile liquid they kept feeding her, but her head still felt light, and she was struggling to focus. Whenever someone entered the room, she tried to appear docile, and so far it had worked. She had allowed them to dress her in this horrid night gown. It was thin and silky, and her breasts were exposed, as were her thighs from the long splits in the skirt.
