An Unwilling Earl

by Sharon Cullen

  “You jest,” Suzette said.

  “I do not. It would be a chance for us to get out of here and maybe try for a better life.”

  Suzette’s mouth opened, then closed, like a gasping fish. “Charlotte.” She stopped, squared her shoulders, and looked again at Jacob. “This man is not offering us a room out of the goodness of his heart. He’s… Well, I’m not sure how to put this delicately, but that room will come with certain benefits—”

  Jacob stepped forward. “I can assure you, Miss…Suzette, that my inclinations do not lean in that direction.” Good God but this woman was going to ruin all of the work Jacob had put in to convince Charlotte to leave the rookery.

  Suzette scoffed. “Please. A gent like you wants to help us out of the goodness of his heart?” She shook her head and chuckled. “I’m surprised you fell for this, Charlotte. He only wants one thing from you.”

  “I don’t think so,” Charlotte said tentatively. Jacob could hear the doubt in her voice and wanted to shut Suzette up, but all he could do was stand there and hope things would go his way. “He truly wants to help, and we have a plan—”

  “Listen, pet, if that’s what you want then you should go. A gent like this has money. He can buy you things. New gowns, new shoes, food. He may even give you money of your own. You can be like the women I see at the theater every night. Being a kept woman is not a bad thing.”

  Jacob wanted to close his eyes in mortification. Suzette was taking everything and twisting it around, making it seem foul and perverted.

  “Is Suzette right, Mr. Baker? Is that your plan?” Charlotte was looking at him with those big eyes full of doubt and confusion, and he wanted so badly to sweep her out of here. To give her the life that Suzette painted but without the insinuation that Charlotte would become his mistress.

  “Of course not. I just want to help.”

  “Look, Mr. Baker,” Suzette said in her no-nonsense way. She was a woman of the world. Jacob could see that she had lived much in her short life and she didn’t believe in fairytales or men who swept women off the streets for a better life. He didn’t blame her. Circumstances had not been good for Suzette. And it was obvious that she was looking out for Charlotte. But keeping Charlotte in the rookery was not the best thing for her.

  “I understand what you see here,” Suzette continued. “Charlotte, when she dresses like a girl, is an attractive lass, and she’s in a spot of trouble right now. I can’t blame you for taking advantage of her. And, Charlotte, this might be what you need to get out of this place. The rookery isn’t for you. You deserve better.”

  Yes! Jacob wanted to pump his fist in the air and tell Charlotte to listen to Suzette, but instead he stood there quietly while barely able to breathe. It was so important to help this woman, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

  “And what about you?” Charlotte asked Suzette, still looking uncertain.

  Suzette waved a hand in the air. “I’m not cut out to be anyone’s mistress. Especially to a man like that.” She nodded toward Jacob. “I like my life the way it is.”

  Charlotte seemed to hesitate, and Jacob felt himself slipping, losing ground because Suzette would not accompany her.

  “You don’t have to move in with me,” he said, desperate, afraid he would lose her all over again. “I can rent a hotel room.”

  “It’s a start,” Suzette told Charlotte. “If it were me, I’d hold out for my own townhouse.”

  Good God! He wasn’t made of money!

  Charlotte looked at her friend. “I think you’re wrong about him. You don’t know my past and he does, and he wants to save me from it.”

  “We all have a past we’re running from,” Suzette said philosophically. “And I would gather that all of our stories have a similar ring to it.”

  “So you won’t go with me?” Charlotte asked.

  “No, pet. You go. Take advantage while you can. Maybe, after a time, you can move up from a solicitor to a barrister. Hell, you might even nab a titled gent. Wouldn’t that be grand? You do that, and you come back and visit Suzette. Let me know how you fared.”

  Suzette’s eyes glittered with unshed tears. She really did hold a fondness for Charlotte, but she was willing to let her go for a better life. Even if the life she thought Charlotte was walking into wasn’t true.

  Charlotte stood there for a long time, looking at Suzette, chewing her lower lip, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, she went to the outer wall and peeled a loose board back and reached into it, pulling out a small velvet bag.

  She opened the drawstring and withdrew some coins, handing them to Suzette. “Use this for the rent for the next few weeks. It’s all I have to give, but I want to be sure you have a place to stay.”

  Suzette took the money and pocketed it. “You’re a good person, Charlotte. I can see why this Mr. Baker likes you.”

  “Promise you’ll take care. Remember what we spoke about?”

  A shiver of fear flitted through Suzette’s eyes. “I remember.”

  “Be careful. Stay aware.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll worry,” Charlotte said.

  “Don’t. I’ve made it this far. Besides, I’m too ornery to die.”

  Charlotte looked at her friend with so much concern that Jacob wanted to demand that Suzette accompany them. They were speaking of the deaths of the serving girls. The ones with the heads and hands cut off. Charlotte was rightfully worried about Suzette.

  Quickly, Charlotte pulled Suzette in for a hug. The actress seemed to stiffen and then soften before she wrapped her arms around Charlotte. “Goodbye, pet.”

  “Stay safe,” Charlotte said.

  “Always.”

  Jacob reached into his pocket and handed Suzette some coins. “Hopefully, this will buy a few more weeks rent.”

  Suzette hesitated before taking the money. It disappeared into the same pocket as Charlotte’s coins, and she nodded at Jacob. “Every bit helps, I suppose.”

  He produced a calling card. “This is where Charlotte will be. If you need anything let me know.”

  She took the card and looked down on it, and Jacob was afraid that maybe she didn’t know how to read. She nodded and sniffed. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Now, go, the both of you. I have to get to the theater.”

  Charlotte seemed to want to say more but instead she walked out, and Jacob followed, taking one last look at Suzette before he closed the door behind him. She had his card clutched in her hand and was wiping tears from her eyes.

  They did not speak as Charlotte led him back through the rookery. It was getting dark, and it felt like darkness touched this place first before it fell over London.

  Chapter Ten

  Jacob hailed a hansom cab as soon as they emerged from the rookery and helped Charlotte climb in as he told the driver where to take them. He felt better knowing she was confined to the carriage, so she couldn’t run back to Suzette, even if she was so inclined.

  “Suzette was wrong,” he said after a time. “That’s not why I’m asking you to stay with me.”

  “She’s lived a rough life. She doesn’t trust many people.”

  “Although I can certainly see why she would think that.”

  “She doesn’t know my past. She doesn’t know what you know.”

  “If it makes you feel better there is a lock on the door to the room you will be staying in. I have no intention of…making you a mistress.” His cheeks were hot with embarrassment, and he couldn’t look at her. Good Lord but he felt like a young lad, unsure how to act around a woman. Silly, considering he’d been married once.

  “Do you already have a mistress?” she asked.

  “No! Good Lord, Charlotte. Some of the things you say.” His cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  “A lot of men do, you know. It’s in their nature.”

  “Is that your aunt talking or you?”

  “A bit of both, I guess. She doesn’t like men much.”

  “I gathered that.”
>
  Charlotte leaned back and sighed, and it seemed that at least some of the weight of her worries left her shoulders.

  “Are you sad to leave Suzette?”

  “Yes and no. I wasn’t surprised that Suzette refused to come with me. She doesn’t know any other life. But she is also my friend. If it weren’t for Suzette I wouldn’t have survived as long as I did in the rookery. I’d like to help her like she helped me.”

  “We can go back and try to convince her.”

  “She won’t come. I think a different sort of life scares her.”

  She fell silent, and he left her to her thoughts. Suzette had opened his mind, and he worried what people would think when they learned that he had taken in a woman. It wouldn’t look good for either of them, especially now that he was an earl. Those implications had not occurred to him until now, but he wouldn’t have done it any other way. To hell with what people thought.

  And the idea of Charlotte as his mistress, well that was just preposterous. Charlotte Morris would make someone a good wife one day. She was smart and funny, and she would keep her husband on his toes. But she would make a horrible mistress. She was too much her own person. And personal belongings, things, didn’t seem to matter to her.

  “You’re thinking deep thoughts,” she said, looking at him from beneath her lids as she rested her head against the squabs. Even dressed like a lad, she was beautiful.

  “Do you worry what people will say when they learn you’re living with me?”

  “What people? I have no friends except Sarah. Her mother might pitch a fit, but it makes no difference to me. And you were right when you said it won’t matter in my new life because I’ll be a completely different person. Are you worried?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Ah. I see. Do you regret trying to save me?”

  “Not at all. Please don’t think that.”

  “Then let’s not worry about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

  …

  They arrived at Jacob’s townhouse, and Mrs. Smith met them in the entryway to gather Jacob’s coat and hat. She hesitated to reach for Charlotte’s tattered top hat, but Charlotte wasn’t about to give away any of her clothing.

  “Miss Morris will be staying here for a bit, Mrs. Smith,” Jacob said. “I apologize for the short notice. Please prepare the yellow room for her and draw a bath for her as well. As hot as you can make it.”

  Mrs. Smith nodded, although her lips were pinched, and it appeared she had much to say on the matter.

  “She still doesn’t like me,” Charlotte said as she followed him down the hall.

  “She’ll adjust.”

  Just like a man to oversimplify something so complicated. He obviously didn’t understand how the female mind worked. But Charlotte understood that she was trespassing into Mrs. Smith’s territory. It was up to Mrs. Smith to take care of Jacob, and in her mind no one else should do it. Charlotte wanted to tell her that she was very ill equipped to take care of herself, let alone Lord Ashland. Mrs. Smith had nothing to worry about.

  “Let me show you around,” Jacob said.

  Charlotte touched him on the arm to get him to stop. They were in a darkened hall, closed doors on either side of them. “I’m only here for a short while. Not nearly long enough to consider this my home. In fact, if you’d like to make things look more proper, you can put me in the servants’ quarters. I won’t mind at all.”

  They were standing very close. Jacob was much taller than she, and he seemed to tower over her, looking down on her. There was really no room to step back as the hallway was narrow. For some strange reason her breath caught, and her gaze snagged on his lips. He just needed to lower his head a few inches and their lips would touch.

  Jacob seemed to notice this as well for his gaze was fixed on her mouth, and he was standing extremely still, as if afraid to move.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered as he lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers.

  They were warm and soft, and in the back of her mind Charlotte registered that this was her first kiss ever.

  Shameful!

  Her aunt’s voice suddenly intruded, and Charlotte jumped back, bumping her head against the opposite wall, her hand flying to her tingling lips.

  Jacob reared back and closed his eyes. “Charlotte,” he said, pained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… It wasn’t my intention…”

  “It’s all right,” she said. “It was nothing.”

  He opened his eyes to look at her, and she could tell she’d hurt him when she said it was nothing. But it was nothing. It had to be nothing. There could be nothing between them. He was helping her get to America. That was all.

  He cleared his throat and looked away. “Right. Nothing. But I do apologize. I told you I wasn’t bringing you here for those intentions and then I…I…”

  She touched his arm. “It’s all right, Jacob. I don’t believe you brought me here under false pretenses.”

  His shoulders sagged. “Right. Let me show you the rest of the house. And, no, you will not stay in the servants’ quarters. You’re welcome for as long as you need a place to stay, and you are a guest.”

  “I’ll just be here long enough to establish a new identity and then I won’t be a bother anymore.”

  He was looking down at her again, in a way that made her think that maybe he wanted to kiss her again, and she felt an answering need deep inside. She wanted to kiss him, too.

  “Is that what you really want, Charlotte? A new identity?”

  “I don’t have any other options.”

  “If you would tell me the real reason you left your aunt’s house I might be able to find a different resolution for you.”

  She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, surprised to find them trembling. What a relief it would be to tell him everything, but was that the right thing to do? And what if she was wrong about everything? Not just Jacob, but everything else? “America is the right resolution for me.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and blew a breath out. “I know there’s more. I wish you would trust me to let me help you.”

  “Helping me get to America is all the help I need.”

  “Have you thought about contacting your mother’s family?”

  “They made it perfectly clear that they did not want my mother and by extension, me. So, no. I’ve never considered going to them.”

  “Did they say that? That they wanted nothing to do with you?”

  “They broke off all ties with my mother when she married my father.”

  “That was your grandfather. He’s dead now, and your uncle is the new marquess. Things might be different.”

  “I doubt it.” That bitter, old hurt resurfaced, and she was angry at Jacob for bringing it back. How many nights had she longed for a knock on the door and the marquess telling her she didn’t have to live with her Aunt Martha anymore? How many mornings did she wake up in the same circumstances with no marquess waiting to save her?

  Her mother’s family didn’t care about her.

  “You don’t know unless you try,” Jacob said.

  She started back the way she had come, toward the front door. “Do you think my room is ready yet? I’m tired, and I could use that hot bath.”

  She could hear Jacob following her, the soft, even tread of his shoes.

  “I didn’t mean to make you angry,” he said to her back.

  “My mother’s family is not an option,” she said. “They never will be.”

  “Very well. I won’t mention them again.”

  She stopped in the entryway and plucked at the wooden toggle button of her coat, not knowing where to go from here. Up to her room? Out the front door? To America? She was so confused and so tired. So tired.

  “Are you all right?” Jacob asked.

  “You would think that being here would be far better than the rookery, but it’s not. In the rookery I didn’t have an identity, and I knew no one would find me. But here I feel exposed. You said my aunt vi
sited you here. What if she returns?”

  “I highly doubt she will return, but if she does you will stay upstairs, and I will get rid of her.”

  “She’s a formidable woman who always gets what she wants.”

  “I won’t let her get to you, Charlotte. I promise.”

  Tears thickened her throat, and she swallowed them. “I guess I just need to trust you.”

  “You won’t be sorry.”

  …

  Charlotte leaned back into the tub and let out a sigh that started from her filthy, frozen toes to travel all the way through her chilled body. It’d been weeks since she’d had a proper bath, and it’d been longer than that that she’d felt warmth. She’d tried to keep up on her personal hygiene while in the rookery, but there was only so much that could be done with a cold pail of water.

  She ducked her head under the water and smoothed her hair away from her face when she came back up, tucking the short ends behind her ears. She missed her hair. It had been one of her best features.

  Vainglory, her aunt whispered in her ear.

  One of the seven deadly sins. If her aunt had known that Charlotte had thought her hair was one of her best features, she would have made Charlotte cut it off.

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, letting the hot water soak through her. Her muscles began to relax.

  One time her aunt had caught Charlotte gazing into her dressing table mirror. She’d been inspecting her skin for pimples. Sarah had told her that boys didn’t like girls with pimples.

  Her aunt had flown into a rage upon seeing Charlotte staring at herself, and Charlotte had received seven lashes, one for each of the sins. When she’d returned to her room all of her mirrors were gone, and she’d never seen them again.

  It was just one of the many punishments that had been meted out to her over the years, but they were nothing compared to what her cousin Edmund had endured.

  Her body jerked, and her eyes flew open. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, and she began to shiver. The water had not cooled enough for her to be this cold, but she had goose bumps up and down her arms. Just thinking of her aunt and cousin made her tremble.

  She had an urgent need to return to the rookery. She was too close to Aunt Martha and Cousin Edmund. It would be too easy for them to find her here. She knew it was the fear taking hold of her, and she consciously made herself relax. Jacob told her he would protect her, and she believed him. At least she believed he would try, and that was all she could ask for.