Madam Charlie

by Sahara Kelly

  He moved to the door, where Antonio, the massive butler, was waiting.

  “Your account for the evening, My Lord. Would you care to settle now, or shall we send a messenger to your man of business tomorrow?” he asked, passing Jordan a small folded card.

  “I’ll take care of it now.” Jordan pulled out some coins and counted out fifty guineas without a blink. “Your mistress must be quite expensive. That’s a sizeable sum for a massage.”

  “Oh no, my Lord, you are mistaken. The fee is for Jane’s services, and was doubled, at your request. Madam Charlie does not accept money for medical treatments that she performs out of the goodness of her heart.”

  Antonio looked at Jordan as if he was the lowest form of life.

  Suddenly, he felt that he was. But then again, he was leaving a whorehouse, no matter how nicely it was gussied up to look like an elegant Salon. How was he supposed to know that its owner looked upon her massages as beneficial medical treatments?

  A little voice told him that he might do well to trust the messages his heart was sending to his brain. He ignored the little voice.

  “I’m ready, darling. Shall we?” Elizabeth bustled up to Jordan, and grabbing his hand led him through the door and away from 14 Beaulieu Crescent.

  Chapter Four

  “So, tell me about Madam Charlie.”

  Elizabeth gazed at Jordan as he shot his order at her, barely waiting for her to settle her gown on the seat opposite him. The carriage rocked into motion and she narrowed her eyes at the man staring at her.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “Elizabeth. Don’t be annoying.”

  “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell you what I know if you touch me while I’m doing it.”

  “What?” Jordan couldn’t have been more surprised if the carriage had sprouted wings and flown over London.

  “Touch me, Jordan. I’ve been watching people all night as they brushed up against each other, rubbed each other, kissed each other. It’s driving me out of my mind.”

  “You don’t know what you’re saying,” sputtered Jordan. “And if you think you’re going to get me to marry you by some sort of compromising behavior, let me tell you how wrong you are.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Damn you, Jordan Lyndhurst. It’s not about you. Although God only knows I don’t seem to be able to convince any man of that fact. I don’t want to marry you. D’you hear me?”

  She was leaning forward now, poking him in the chest with a very rigid forefinger.

  “I hear you. So does half of London, a portion of Chiswick and probably a good two thirds of the boats on the Thames.”

  She ignored his sarcasm. “I have needs, Jordan. A woman has needs. I’m of taking care of them myself. I want to know that I can make a man’s cock jump, like that Madam Charlie does.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? And watch your language.” Jordan struggled for words. Elizabeth Wentworth, Incomparable of the Ton, was using words he never thought to hear fall from her elegant lips.

  “I watched you watch her, Jordan. She came down those stairs and your breeches nearly exploded. Now look at this…” She leaned nearer and wrenched at the front of her gown.

  Her breasts spilled out into the shadows of the carriage, and Jordan had to confess that they were quite beautiful examples of womanly attributes.

  “See?”

  “Ahem. Yes. I see quite well. Now put them away.”

  Elizabeth leaned even closer, letting him scent her light fragrance. “No, I’m talking about this, Jordan.” She laid her palm on his crotch, feeling the bulge that had appeared about the same time as her breasts had swung free.

  “Nice, but watch this. If I was to tell you that apparently Madam Charlie likes to have her titties suckled…”

  Sure enough, underneath Elizabeth’s hand, Jordan’s cock leapt to attention, and he cursed his own body for betraying him.

  Elizabeth grinned. “Darling, I don’t care. If you want to fuck a whore, that’s fine with me. It’s not about emotions, or love, or marriage or happily-ever-after. It’s about me wanting to learn more about pleasure. Wanting to be touched with some warmth and affection. I’m a grown woman, Jordan. I’ve seen sex all around me tonight and I’d like to have some of my own. From someone I trust. Don’t make me find someone else.”

  She reached for his hand and brought it to the softness of her breast, sighing with pleasure as she rubbed it across her hard nipple. “Please?”

  Jordan fought a valiant battle with himself, but he too was on the edge. His mind was full of a gray-eyed beauty, his cock was hardening by the second and a lovely woman was asking him to touch her body.

  Hell, he was only human.

  “This never leaves this carriage, Elizabeth. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Absolutely, Jordan. I certainly don’t want the rest of the world knowing I had to beg for sexual favors, do I?” Her wry tone was not lost on Jordan.

  “You won’t be getting sexual favors. I’ll see you get your pleasure, but that’s all, Elizabeth.”

  “That’s all I want, darling.” She slid over next to him and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I’ll even let you pretend I’m her…”

  Jordan frowned. “I pay attention to my partners, Elizabeth. I don’t play games like that.”

  Elizabeth giggled. “Very well. But you can’t stop me telling you what I know about her, can you? Go ahead, Jordan. Touch me. I won’t break.”

  Jordan sighed. Friendship sometimes put a great strain on a man. He bent his head to Elizabeth’s breasts. They were full and firm, and she shivered as he gently kissed the warm swell of her flesh and pulled on a nipple with his lips.

  “Oh yes. That’s lovely. More please.”

  He obliged. “So,” he breathed on the wetness his tongue had wiped around her nipples, making her shiver. “You were going to tell me about her.”

  Elizabeth arched her back pushing her breast into his face. “Yes. She’s young, you know. Not more than about twenty-two, or so I’m told. Oh God, more of that, yes…right there…”

  His lips and teeth were busy nibbling, licking, soothing. He felt her bones melt as he eased his arms around her body and pulled her onto his lap. His hand unfastened the laces at her back and she heaved a sigh of relief as he loosened the bodice of her gown and tugged it free. Elizabeth was a lovely woman.

  He warmed to his task.

  “She’s only been running the Crescent for a little less than a year. Some say she inherited it, some say she bought it outright after working there all her life. Others say it was purchased for her by some man who wanted to buy her off.”

  Jordan’s teeth clamped down hard on a nipple, making Elizabeth squeak.

  “Sorry. Go on.”

  “I will if you will.”

  Jordan, excellent soldier that he was, followed orders. He slid one hand beneath the loosened silks of her gown and up her thigh, teasing, tickling and stroking the soft flesh he found above her neatly tied garter.

  “She…she…oh darling that feels sooooo good,” Elizabeth wriggled as Jordan’s hand cupped her soft mound.

  He could feel her moisture dampening his palm and he smoothed his fingers carefully around her woman’s folds, learning her likes and dislikes and spreading her juices freely across the swollen flesh.

  “Go on,” he urged, pressing down on her clit and making her moan.

  “She…um…they say she’s still a virgin. Others say she’s had more men than Messalina. Her girls are highly prized, that’s for sure…” Elizabeth sighed as Jordan slid a finger inside her.

  “Oh, that’s lovely. Mmm. Yes…did you know that Pinky Waterston paid two hundred guineas for a night with one of them?” She opened her eyes and glanced at Jordan. “Two hundred guineas. Can you imagine that?”

  Jordan sensed that she was getting distracted and slid another finger inside her, reminding her of where she was and what he was doing.

  She gasped and swallowed before
continuing. “She takes good care of her girls. No one is allowed to harm them in any way. There are very strict rules. Oh, God. Oh Jordan…” Her voice tapered off into a whisper as Jordan deepened his penetration.

  Her legs spread even further apart as Jordan’s fingers worked their skilled magic on her distended clitoris.

  “No more talking, Elizabeth. Not now…”

  Guilt drove Jordan to hand-fuck Elizabeth with every iota of talent he possessed. He had no business fantasizing about one woman when another was lying half naked across his lap.

  Angry with himself, he suckled her nipples fiercely, pulling her tight against his mouth as his hand moved roughly now against her soaked flesh. He had two fingers deep inside her and his thumb pressed against her aroused clit, and he bit gently on her nipple as he moved his fingers in a rhythmic stroke against her inner channel.

  She writhed beneath him, forcing herself against his hand and his mouth. She moaned as his hand found a spot that tightened every muscle in her body. He felt her tension increase as her choppy gasps grew louder.

  He increased everything he was doing by a factor of two.

  Elizabeth clenched her teeth, straightened her legs and exploded beneath him on a savage sob.

  Her cunt trapped his hand, clamping down with such savagery that he reckoned his fingers would be bruised for days.

  She shivered and shook, helpless against the onslaught of her orgasm.

  He gentled her body, soothing her breasts with soft kisses, riding out the after effects of her orgasm, and easily slipping his hand from her cunt as her juices flowed around his fingers.

  “Oh Jordan,” she breathed. “Thank you.”

  Jordan felt like slime beneath her feet. “Elizabeth, I…”

  She reached up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips. “You did as I asked, Jordan. For that, I thank you. You have given me a gift, tonight. You’ve made me feel wonderful. You have released my body from the tensions that I’ve been feeling, and you’ve given me something to use as a touchstone. Something I can hold on to when I’m alone, and something I can remember if I need a good memory someday.” She smiled wickedly. “And you’ve taught me that Ryan Penderly is an absolutely awful lover.”

  “What?”

  Elizabeth straightened her gown and turned her back to him. Jordan was still so stunned that he automatically began doing up her laces without a word.

  “Ryan Penderly. Yes. The quiet, landscape-mad, ex-Major, Ryan Penderly. I think I intend to marry him, you know. But I have to teach him a little something about what goes on between a man and a woman. That’s why I really needed something to compare him to, you understand?”

  Jordan realized that his mouth was still hanging open and shut it with a snap.

  “So all this, what we just…you and me, it was all to…”

  “To find out if Ryan was any good or not. Yes. Can’t make a comparison if you don’t have anything to compare, now, can you?”

  Jordan felt a grin curving his lips. “Elizabeth, you are the most outrageous woman.”

  Elizabeth grinned back at him. “Yes, I know. And I also know that I really like Ryan Penderly. He’s nice. Not that you’re not, of course, you’re much better at bringing pleasure to a woman, Jordan, and you touched my body divinely. But, and please don’t get offended when I say this, you didn’t touch my heart.”

  “I’m not offended.” Jordan frowned. “I don’t think.” He shook his head. “Actually, I don’t know what to think about anything any more. This whole evening has been a very confusing one.”

  “Poor darling. Getting a serious case of lust for a Madam, then getting propositioned on the way home. It has been a rather hard night, hasn’t it?”

  The enormous lack of sympathy in her voice made him smile.

  “Yes. Well fine. Laugh your pretty head off. You’ve got what you set out for. What do I have to show for tonight?”

  “That’s a good question, Jordan. What do you have? An interest in an unsuitable woman? A damaged heart? A bruised ego? A major case of lust? What is it about Madam Charlie that has set you off?”

  Jordan gazed out at the dark London streets as the carriage slowed its pace.

  “I don’t know, Elizabeth. And that’s the truth. I just don’t know.”

  * * * * *

  In the noisy rooms at 14 Beaulieu Crescent, Madam Charlie had no chance for pensive introspection.

  People demanded her attention, and her business demanded she respond in kind, with smiles, quick and witty repartee and an aloof air that gave her the special cachet that she knew made her an “acceptable” figure.

  The Ton was fickle, paying attentions to one person one day and cutting them dead the next. So far, she had been very lucky in attracting the right kind of people to her house, and also in creating an environment where sexual desires could walk hand in hand with sexual curiosity.

  Visitors could get a glimpse of hidden treasures without compromising their position in society, and she was thrilled that a few brave women had begun to venture past her doors and not suffered as a consequence of doing so.

  It was one of those women who occupied the majority of her private thoughts as she went about the evening’s duties. The attractive dark-haired one who had seized Jordan Lyndhurst’s arm and not let go.

  God knew she had no business even thinking about Jordan Lyndhurst, let alone wondering who the woman had been and what her relationship was to Jordan. But somewhere, somehow, the man had crept under her skin and he was making her itch. In places she’d thought would never itch for any man. Ever.

  Her route through her house took her down a quieter corridor where she stopped frequently to check the unobtrusive peepholes into the rooms beyond. She refused to believe that offering sex meant that a girl could be mistreated as well. Anyone wishing to hurt a woman could go elsewhere. 14 Beaulieu Crescent was a house of pleasure, and Charlie’s stated intention was that everybody should find it so. Not just the customers.

  Sally Trotter was obviously earning her pay that night. Enthusiastic and pretty, Sally had a regular list of clients, two of whom were with her this evening. The Thompson-Ffyfe brothers were tangled up with Sally in a laughing writhing mess of limbs, sprawled across the largest bed in the house. This room was one of those reserved for clients who enjoyed several partners at once, and tonight it belonged to Sally, Ned and Tommy. As Charlie observed the scene, Ned Thompson-Ffyfe freed his legs and plunged hip deep into Sally’s cunt, pushing her mouth even further onto brother Tommy’s cock.

  Tommy clearly appreciated the move, and Sally slurped him out and back in again, all the while moving her hips wantonly against poor Ned who was about to surrender everything he had.

  Charlie closed the observation slot on his yell of completion.

  The other rooms offered much the same in the way of inhabitants, a variety of men enjoying sex with a variety of women in a variety of ways. Mostly, the men were of the nobility; Charlie’s girls were not outrageously expensive, but certainly not for those watching their pennies.

  She suppressed a chuckle at Belle’s customer, a well-known physician and politician, who was being tickled by an enormous feather. Apparently, only Belle could maintain just the right pressure with the feather combined with some talented manipulation to ensure a rigid erection and a successful conclusion. This particular customer had just increased his visits to three times a week, and Belle was—well—Belle was tickled pink.

  Charlie moved on to the last door in the hallway and quietly peeked inside. Here, her newest girl, Susie, had made her “debut” this evening under the skilful guiding hands of Gracie, one of the more experienced residents of the Crescent.

  Their customer had been Neville Johns, a successful investor, and a man of quiet manners. Not particularly handsome, Mr. Johns usually allowed his wealth to do his talking, but Charlie had found him pleasant and considerate, and blunt in his self-assessment.

  “I enjoy women, Madam Charlie,” he’d said when he’d sough
t her out several months before. “But my appearance does little to attract them. My money, unfortunately, does.” He’d grimaced ruefully. “I have no interest in being seduced for my fortune. If I’m going to buy a woman, it will be an honest transaction with all parties quite clear on the nature of the deal. And I understand that your girls are clean, willing and pleasant to be with.”

  Charlie had nodded her head at his words, knowing that he spoke no less than the truth and proud of the reputation her girls had garnered.

  “Therefore, I’d like to request two women at one time. It’s been something I’ve always wondered about, but have been unlikely to experience without professional help.” His charming smile had crinkled his eyes, and Charlie had found herself smiling back.

  So Mr. Johns had become a regular customer, usually stopping by at least once a fortnight, and most often taking two of her girls upstairs with him for the night. It was expensive, but everyone involved seemed to find it successful.

  And to judge by the sight that met her eyes, once again Mr. Johns had had a pleasant night.

  Amidst the wrinkled sheets of the large bed, Susie slumbered in a tangle of young limbs. She seemed contented and her breath barely stirred the linens next to her nose.

  Neville Johns and Gracie, however, were not done.

  Seated on the upholstered blanket chest at the foot of the bed, Johns had Gracie on his lap.

  Charlie had to admit that even though Mr. Johns was no longer in the first flush of his youth, his body was still firm and pleasant to look upon. What she could see of it behind Gracie, anyway.

  Something held her still, eye pressed to the peephole. Usually she’d simply check that all was well with her girls and finish her rounds. But tonight, something was different. Her needs were different. Her body felt different.

  So tonight she watched Gracie as she leaned back against Neville Johns and let him pleasure her.