Mistress in the Making
Page 5
“Family won’t sell their daughters,” he said in a hard voice.
She frowned, not sure what he meant. It didn’t sound flattering. “My sister’s beautiful.”
“Meggie?” He sounded startled by her change of topics.
“No, Elizabeth, the next oldest. She’s eighteen now and we had high hopes for her making an excellent match, only we couldn’t afford to give her a Season.”
“So you came up with the brilliant idea of turning into a mistress?”
She shook her head. “Madame Bella visited the countryside. She was traveling outside London looking for families in similar situations as ours. Families with lovely daughters and desperate for funds.”
“And she made an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
Again she shook her head and placed her hand on his muscular thigh. “Please allow me to finish. Madame wanted Elizabeth. Not me. I’m too plain. Lizzie inherited Mama’s beauty. I gained her wisdom.”
She stared at a stain on the floral rug when Lucas failed to protest her claims of plainness. No wonder he didn’t mind throwing her out of his home. If she had Elizabeth’s beauty, he would’ve already bought her a house and diamonds. “I volunteered to go in Elizabeth’s place. Madame Bella was not pleased, but agreed to let me stay on. Once I send enough money back to the family, Elizabeth can come to London, have her Season and marry well. Then I can return to the countryside and put this all behind me.”
With her tale finished, she sat back against the sofa and dared Lucas to say something.
Lucas studied Charlotte’s patrician profile for a minute, racking his brains for something to say. He was a bit stunned by her belief that she was less beautiful than her younger sister. Elizabeth must be comparable to Helen of Troy if she managed greater beauty than Charlotte. However, he could understand her misconception. Charlotte’s intelligence and sensibility radiated from her. She held a quiet beauty only a discerning gentleman would take the time to discover.
Unfortunately for Charlotte, he was not that man today. “I understand your desperation, but surely there are other alternatives for your family.”
“None that I could see. Do you think I happily stepped onto Madame Bella’s auction block?” Tears shined in her eyes, but pride wouldn’t let them fall.
“I can’t say I approve, but I will not throw you out so quickly.” Intrigue at her predicament warred with his sense of honor. How could he take advantage of a girl from a good family? On the other hand, he’d paid a hell of a lot of money for her. She was his, and perhaps he should enjoy the bounty that had fallen in his lap. After all, keeping her was truly helping her family, right?
He glanced out the window to see how high the sun was in the sky. “I must leave now, but upon my return we will discuss the future.”
“I shall come with you,” she said.
“Charlotte, I’ve already told you no. Do you doubt my word I’ll return?” It had been a great many years since anyone had dared question his honor.
“Of course not,” she said. “I shall come with you because you need me.”
“Oh?”
“She’s correct.” Bellamy’s voice came from the doorway where he leaned carelessly against the pillar. How much of Charlotte’s tale had he heard? Lucas would gamble all of it. “Your brother beat his mistress and she’s recovering at her friend’s place. She won’t want to entertain any gentleman, especially one who is identical in looks to her abuser, but another woman…”
“Of course. Bellamy is absolutely correct.” Charlotte was nodding at Bellamy, the gesture causing her soft curls to bounce gently around her shoulders.
“He is?” Lucas felt he was missing an important puzzle piece.
“Yes. I shall go change immediately. Lucas, I will need your assistance.”
“You’re already dressed, and I am running late.” He pinched the soft gray wool of her skirt between his thumb and forefinger and ran his hand along the fabric.
She brushed his hands away and stood, speaking over her shoulder as she strode briskly toward the stairs. “You’ve mentioned I look like a governess, and you are correct. I will need to gain the trust of the other woman by appearing to be in the same line of work as she.”
Lucas took large steps but didn’t catch up to his lady-mistress until the top of the stairs. He grasped her shoulders, pinioned her to the wall and pressed against her from chest to toe. He buried his lips in her neck and said, “Charlotte, for all intents and purposes, you are in the same line of work.”
He laughed and covered her gasp with a wet kiss. He pulled away, smiling at her shock. “Come along. Let’s get you dressed like my mistress.”
She followed him into his bedroom and bent to open her trunk. “I should have hung these last night, but…” She blushed, recalling why she’d not had a chance to attend to her wardrobe yet.
“I’ll just…go behind that screen, shall I?” Her rosy cheeks betrayed her calm voice, and he allowed her to hide for a few minutes before he strolled over to the dressing screen to check on her progress.
His timing was perfect. She was stepping out of the gray serviceable dress and her smooth narrow back begged for his touch. His first stroke had her turning and clasping her hands to cover her chest.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Helping.” He captured her wrists, pulled them down and bent to suckle her nipples. Palest pink and sweet as little berries. He ran his tongue around one then pulled more of her firm breast into his mouth.
Her gasps of surprise melted into delight and she tugged her hands free to curl around his shoulders. “Lucas, I thought we were in a hurry.”
He pulled away from his treat with a small smacking sound. “We are, but I realize if we are to make you a believable mistress, there’s something I neglected to teach you.”
Her brows rose. “Oh? And what is that?”
“La petite morte,” he murmured and bent to her breasts again. “My timing is perfect, because you are naked, and I…am not.” He stood tall and lifted her under the arms then carried her over to the chair to deposit her into it.
She shifted her beautiful bare bum and said, “Lucas, I really don’t think now is the time… It takes me a while to get into my dress without a maid’s help.”
“Shh. I will be your maid. After.” He clasped his hands behind his back and stared down at her, wishing she’d spread her legs so he could see the puff of hair shielding her clitoris. He’d once seen a woman with jewels hanging from her nipples and thin chains down to her slit. If ever a woman deserved jewels adorning her nudity, it was Charlotte. “Please spread your thighs.”
Her gaze met his and they held a staring contest until she bit her lip and slowly pulled apart her smooth, rounded thighs.
Pale hair, slightly darker than on her head curled neatly at the juncture of her legs. A tiny bead of pink flesh was visible between plump lips. He knelt to his knees and touched the tip of his tongue to it.
Charlotte’s thighs promptly squeezed shut around his head, muffling sound. “Lucas!”
He pulled his head back to smile up at her and shoved her thighs apart again. “If you’re going to play the part of my mistress effectively, you’ll need to speak with some knowledge of your own body and your own pleasure.” He nuzzled into her damp passage again, focusing on what made her pant and what made her shiver.
“D-do you think the topic will come up?” Charlotte’s thighs spread wider and her fingers gripped his scalp tightly. “Oh, ohhh my.”
He slid a hand under her bottom and pulled her closer to the edge of the chair and eased a single finger into her tight passage. Her muscles immediately squeezed his digit, causing a painful pulsing in his rock-hard cock. His poor breeches pulled taut over his arousal threatening to pop a button or two if he didn’t release himself from the constriction.
Charlotte’s moans were now breathy sobs and the wet scent of her drove him to madness. He moved his finger and tongue faster, bringing her closer to orgasm.
When the pulses slowed and her legs went limp, he pulled back and stood. “Now you can play the role of mistress effectively,” he said.
“Your mistress?” she asked, clinging hopefully to his words.
He gave a curt nod. “For now.”
Chapter Five
“We’re here to see Alyce Brown,” Lucas said. He acted as though visiting brothels an hour before noon was a daily occurrence for him.
Charlotte gripped Lucas’ forearm and smiled Madame Bella’s best at the burly footmen, but the guard stood impervious to her charms. He was surrounded by professionals regularly.
“I’ll go see if Miss Brown wishes to see you,” he said. He started to shut the door to have them wait outside, but Lucas put his body in the way.
“If you don’t mind, my lady wishes to come in from the cold.”
“Fine, but stay in the parlor and don’t touch nothing.”
Lucas nodded majestically as if following an order from the king and the threesome ventured inside.
Charlotte eyed the décor, noting its differences from Madame Bella’s. When she’d first arrived at Madame’s school, she’d felt relief at how similar it was to any normal upper-class home. This brothel was everything she’d feared Madame’s would be like.
Heavy perfume and something identifiably musky filled the air though no inhabitants were present. The furniture stood at odd heights and angles with extra cushions and benches in strange places.
She walked over to one and began to sit, but realized she’d have to straddle the bench to sit on it and she might slide off it from the angle of the bench. She glanced at Lucas who had a smile plastered on his face and at Bellamy whose back was to her, busy studying a garden scene on the wall.
“Shall I demonstrate the beauty of that piece of furniture?” Lucas asked, his voice all solicitousness.
Understanding flashed through her and she quickly sprang up.
“Good choice,” he said. “It works much better when you lie on your stomach.”
“We’ll have to return for a personal demonstration one evening,” she said in a husky voice she barely recognized. What had come over her? From the moment Lucas signed paperwork for rights to her body, she’d become someone unrecognizable from reliable, always-proper Charlotte. Her sisters often teased her about her lack of feminine wiles or desire to flirt with the village young men.
Miles from home in wicked London, she’d shed her conventionality as if playing a role on stage. She rather liked it. The key was to ensure Lucas liked it too. She took a step toward him, desiring to smooth her hands down his broad chest or inhale his earthy scent, but a woman’s voice stayed her movements.
“Who’s here?” A curvaceous woman strolled into the room clad in a icy-blue silk robe. Bruised splotches marred her face, but her beauty still shone through.
Lucas bowed deeply, and the woman’s posture softened somewhat. However, she leapt back with a little shriek when he stood and showed his face. Bellamy caught her at the doorway, preventing her escape.
“I left orders. You’re not to come here,” she said with real panic in her voice.
Charlotte quickly understood and stepped in front of Lucas. “He’s not Westhunt.”
At first her words were ignored and Bellamy held the woman gently, but firmly, speaking softly in her ear.
“He’s not the earl. This is his twin, Mr. Morgan. His twin,” Charlotte repeated over and over, hoping her words would sink in soon. Her stomach burned at seeing such distress in another human. What had Westhunt done to inspire such fear?
Between Bellamy’s whispers and Charlotte’s vehement exclamations, the woman calmed down enough to speak.
“His twin? He told me you were dead,” she said.
Lucas walked slowly to the lowest chair in the room and sank down before answering, obviously hoping his lowered height would make him less of a perceived threat.
“He thought wrong. I am clearly alive.”
“Why are you here?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“I’d like you to tell me about my brother,” Lucas said.
Alyce stepped into the room, clinging to Bellamy’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Charlotte smiled encouragingly at her and went to sit next to Lucas to demonstrate he was a man to be trusted with a woman.
“What do you wish to know? He’s your brother. I daresay you know much more than I do.” Her low voice was melodic as if she were a trained singer.
“Possibly,” Lucas admitted. “Humor me, and I promise to protect you from him always.”
Alyce stood straighter and released Bellamy, encouraged by Lucas’ words. “Truly?”
Charlotte bit her lip then released it quickly. How easily Lucas promised to protect Alyce, when she’d had to plot and conspire to gain any sort of commitment from him.
“How did you meet Sebastian?” Lucas prompted.
“He sought me out here. He wanted a particular type of woman, one who wouldn’t mind a little tie-me-up every now and again. As you can see, this particular establishment caters to those desires.”
Charlotte glanced at Lucas to see if he understood what Alyce meant, but he was nodding and murmuring encouraging sounds for her to continue.
“I volunteered, seeing as he’s an earl and I like myself a little spanking now and again.” Alyce turned to Bellamy with a wink and small smile.
To Charlotte’s shock, Bellamy didn’t flush but winked right back at Miss Brown.
“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” Alyce continued. “At first it was all right. He’s a handsome man with a nice-size piece in his trousers.” She grinned at Charlotte. “You’d know about that, wouldn’t you luv? Seems you got the decent brother, lucky you.”
Charlotte grinned back and put her hand proprietarily on Lucas’ thigh. Pink flags colored his cheeks at the frank discussion of his male parts. He cleared his throat. “How long before my brother started hurting you?”
Alyce lost her smile and shuddered. “A month, maybe less. It started small. I didn’t even notice at first. He tied my ropes a bit too tightly, or smacked my arse a little harder than was pleasurable.”
Charlotte shifted on the bench, astounded and intrigued by Alyce’s description of bedroom activities she’d never heard of. Madame Bella had alluded to it, but not bothered to teach Charlotte since she was the first to go on the auction block and they’d run out of time. What would it be like to be tied up, helpless to Lucas’ demands?
“The real beatings didn’t start until a few weeks ago.”
“Do you think something triggered them? Had he lost at cards?” Bellamy asked.
“My brother never needed an excuse to prey on the weak,” Lucas said. “How long were you with my brother? Were you with him last winter?”
Alyce shook her head. “We met just after your eldest brother’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Did he ever talk about our brother?”
Alyce frowned in concentration. “Not often. Sometimes he bragged about being the strongest of the Morgan brothers, the only living one.”
“Did he ever talk about being an earl? Did he seem overly fond of the title?” Charlotte asked and felt Lucas’ approval at her question.
“Oh yes,” Alyce said. “He often complained of the responsibilities of being earl, but in that way that’s not really complaining at all. More like boasting. And he never let me call him Sebastian. He was always Westhunt.” Suddenly, she frowned at them. “Why are you asking all these questions? Did Westhunt do something? Besides nearly kill me, that is.”
Lucas stood. “I have cause to believe Sebastian murdered my eldest brother to gain the title.”
“I’d believe it.” Alyce laughed bitterly.
“Can you think of anything at all that he said or did that would give us a clue?”
Alyce chewed her lip th
en winced at the pain from moving her bruise-covered face. “Nothing I can think of at the moment, but perhaps something will come to me.”
Lucas extended a hand to Charlotte. “Send word if you remember anything. I’ll come immediately.”
“Oh, no need for you to bother, sir. This gentleman here will do nicely.” She nodded and spoke to Bellamy with a wicked smile. “I’m sorry you had to see me in such dishabille. Next time I’ll be sure to look my best.”
To Charlotte’s astonishment, Bellamy bowed at the waist and brushed his fingers along Alyce’s neck when he stood. “I look forward to it,” he said in a low voice.
They were inches from the front door when Alyce called to Lucas. “You may want to try Georgina. She was Westhunt’s mistress before me. She may know something.”
Lucas turned. “And where might we find this Georgina?”
Alyce laughed. “I’m a bit out of the gossip seeing as I’ve been injured, but visit some of the molly houses. You’ll find word of her there. Everyone knows Georgie.”
*
Charlotte squeezed in next to Lucas on the carriage seat facing Bellamy, who stared out the glass back at the brothel with an inscrutable look.
“What was that place?” she asked.
Lucas’ fingers tightened on his knees. “I thought Madame Bella trained you?”
“Yes, but she never spoke of spankings and ropes. Nor did she show us furniture such as that.”
She shivered when Lucas’ lips brushed her ear as he whispered to her. “Shall we conduct a demonstration later? I wouldn’t want my mistress claiming ignorance on any topic on the sexual arts.”
“Lucas,” she chided, glancing over at Bellamy who now watched them with a small smile. “We’re not alone.”
“Bellamy doesn’t mind,” he said, grinning at his friend. “He’s counting the seconds until Alyce Brown invites him back.”
Charlotte didn’t know how to respond. Despite her months under Madame Bella’s tutelage, she still thought of sexual relations as between a man and his wife or his mistress. The idea that the rest of the world played little games of pleasure too was intriguing. To cover her discomfort, she focused on the investigation.