Madam Charlie

by Sahara Kelly

  The doors had been locked, bolted and double-checked. This room was locked and the windows high up above the garden at the rear of Calver House were secure. Jordan wondered if he was overreacting, but then remembered Ponsonby’s face. There was a man who held a grudge, and especially if he thought he’d been bested by a woman, and a whore at that.

  Whore. Hah. The woman sleeping in his bed was no more a whore than he was.

  That was one thing that Jordan had rapidly realized as he held her shaking body and settled her into his room.

  Her eyes had opened and stared blankly at him, the effects of shock still visible in their misty gray depths. Any whore would have been more than used to such violence, because in spite of the enlightened times in which they lived, whores were victimized on a disturbingly regular basis.

  Her slim hands had held tight to his lapels, and he’d marveled at the softness of her skin as he’d eased her torn dress away from her shoulders. She was every inch a lady, and no matter what her past, he knew that she was no whore.

  Let her heal.

  Well, there wasn’t much he could do about that. The bruises stood out, livid against her pale flesh, but they were just bruises and would fade. Her reaction to the attack, however, had him a little puzzled. She might not have been a hardened prostitute, accustomed to personal violence, but the level of shock she’d experienced was extreme. Surely she’d had to deal with behavior like Ponsonby’s before?

  It was a puzzle, and Jordan loved solving puzzles. He licked his lips.

  Send her home.

  Ah, there was the kicker. He didn’t want to send her home. He wanted to keep her.

  He leaned back with a sigh and faced the inevitability of the situation. He wanted Madam Charlie so bad his teeth ached.

  It was the first time he could remember ever being so obsessed with a female. Even the one he’d almost married, whose name he couldn’t now remember. No one had ever made him feel so hot, or so needy inside, desiring something he couldn’t even put a name to.

  He wanted her body, certainly. He knew that burying himself inside her and pumping his seed deep into her womb would be some kind of amazing marvel, something he’d not experienced before. He wanted to taste her, sip her juices, suckle her breasts and caress her buttocks. He wanted to explore her body like a treasure seeker mining new worlds for gold.

  He wanted to see her naked in the sunshine and naked by the firelight. Hell, he just wanted her naked. With him. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth, breasts pressed against him and her cunt hugging his cock.

  He muttered to himself and shifted, trying to relieve some of the pressure that his cock was creating as it responded to his imaginings.

  Sighing, he stood and stripped, dropping his clothes negligently by the couch and groaning in relief as his cock sprang free of his breeches.

  “You’re no help,” he mumbled, sinking back down and covering himself with the blanket.

  He tried to divert his thoughts but a slight sigh from the bed linens across the room brought his attention back to Charlie.

  Jordan pondered what sort of woman would acquire the name “Charlie”. And have it suit her so well, too. She wasn’t an Emily, that’s for sure. And Margaret, or Jane, or Daphne—none of them would have fit either.

  No, she was Charlie. Proud, elegant, reserved, yet willing to go all out for her girls and secure them a decent life beyond anything they might have expected. A woman with a core of iron ready to take on the vilest beast in order to protect someone weaker than herself.

  Charlie. A woman of surprises, contrasts, puzzles, and mysteries. An unusual name for an unusual person.

  At that moment, the “unusual person” whimpered.

  “Papa?”

  * * * * *

  Charlie felt the vestiges of the dream sliding away from her like water droplets, and yet the illusion lingered.

  Her mind was fuzzy, images blurred and distant, and her body felt heavy and unreal. Perhaps she was still dreaming.

  No—there was someone next to her, holding her. It felt good, safe somehow. It must be Papa. He was there for her at last.

  “Thank God. Papa. You must listen. Don’t make me do this.”

  “Do what, sweetheart?”

  The voice was soft and deep. It didn’t sound like Papa, but it was a man’s voice.

  “Don’t make me marry him. You know Mama would never have made me marry him.”

  Fingers brushed the hair back from her face. “Tell me about him.”

  “He’s so old, Papa.” Perhaps this time he’d listen to her. “And the way he looks at me. He wants to get me alone, Papa, and I’m afraid of him. Just the other day when he came for tea…”

  “What happened?”

  “He t…touched me, Papa. Somewhere he shouldn’t have. Somewhere p…p…private.”

  The fingers paused in their gentle stroking.

  “Don’t be cross with me, please, Papa. I didn’t do anything. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. Reeves came in with the tea tray and he stopped. But Papa, I didn’t like it…”

  Charlie let out a sob. Why wasn’t her father listening? Why was he making her go through with this awful marriage?

  “I don’t want to marry him. I really don’t. Why can’t you understand and listen to me? Let me stay here with you and look after you. Please, please Papa. I’ll die if you make me go to him.”

  Warm arms held her close and she could sense the thump of a heart against her befuddled head.

  She could almost see her father’s face, sadly smiling. She sighed. “I have to, don’t I? There’s no other choice. He’ll ruin you if I don’t marry him. And he’ll ruin me if I do.” She let out a wry laugh. “We’re both going to lose.”

  “Ssshh, it’s all right, Charlie, it’s all right…” Soothing sounds helped the tension in her shoulders ease, and Charlie sighed in relief.

  “Make it all right again, Papa. Make it like it never happened.” She giggled a little. “And I like it when you call me Charlie. Mama used to, do you remember? Much more fun than that stuffy old Charlotte.”

  She sighed and snuggled against the warmth that was spreading all up and down her body.

  “Mama used to sing Charlie is me darlin’. Do you remember?” She hummed a little tune, letting the memories of her mother slide over her and comfort her. “I miss Mama, don’t you, Papa?”

  The arms around her tightened.

  “Yes, you do, I can tell. I’m sorry I complained. I know I have to marry him. I don’t want to, and I don’t know if I’ll survive, but I will. I’ll marry him for you, Papa. And because Mama asked me to take care of you, and I don’t know any other way…”

  She felt the tears trickling down her face, only to find them whisked away by a warm hand.

  “Don’t cry, Charlie. It’s all over. You’re safe now, with me.”

  Safe. Was she safe?

  Her body ached, like it had ached before. But her heart didn’t hurt as much.

  “Am I safe with you?” She turned her head to find him, her eyes refusing to focus on anything definite, just the pale blur of a face near hers.

  “You are safe with me. I will never let anything happen to you, Charlie. You have my word on that.”

  His voice calmed and soothed her, and for a few seconds a pair of brown eyes with little bits of gold dancing in them swam into her vision.

  “Yes. You will keep me safe, won’t you?” She felt her mind slowly drift and her body sink into a blissful state of relaxation. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes closed. Then opened again briefly and found his face once more.

  “Jordan,” she whispered. “You have beautiful eyes.”

  She slept.

  Chapter Eight

  Sunlight streaming across her face woke Charlie.

  As she stretched, she realized her mouth felt like she’d been licking a carpet for hours, her stomach was rumbling and she had an overwhelming need for a chamber pot.

  Raising her head up slightly, she
saw the screen across the room and deduced that at least one of her needs could be met.

  Her legs were shaky, and her body was sore, but she was pleased and proud of herself for making the short trip behind the screen and back to her bed without stumbling.

  She noted that she was now wearing her own nightgown, and smiled as she realized some of her other possessions were scattered around the room. Matty was obviously in command.

  As if the thought had summoned her, the door opened, and Matty herself bustled in holding a large tray.

  “Oh dearie, look at you. Up already. And I’m sure you must be starving too.”

  “Thirsty more than hungry, but yes to both, Matty. What time is it? How long have I been sleeping?”

  Charlie yawned hugely, and reached high above her head, stretching her shoulders and wincing slightly.

  “Still sore?” asked Matty, pouring tea from the pot on the tray she’d brought with her.

  “A little. Not much. My head feels a bit cottony though…”

  “That’s the laudanum. We thought it was a good idea to give you just a few drops.”

  “Laudanum? Matty, you know I’ve never touched the stuff.” Charlie frowned at the thought. There’d been a time when Matty had encouraged her to take some, but she’d adamantly refused.

  “I know, pet, I know. But you were that badly banged about, and we knew if you were awake you’d be fussing over the Crescent and getting home, so we thought it best. Just for the once, sweeting.”

  “What time is it, then?”

  Matty cleared her throat. “It’s gone four o’clock.”

  “Good lord, you mean I’ve been sleeping for several hours?”

  “Well, actually, it’s four o’clock on Thursday.”

  Charlie’s jaw dropped. “Good God. I’ve been sleeping for two days?”

  Matty nodded and buttered several pieces of toast. “We thought it best. You needed to heal.”

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed even as she gladly took the teacup and allowed Matty to plump up the pillows and get her comfortable.

  “I’m hearing a lot of the word ‘we’. Who is ‘we’, Matty?”

  Matty offered the toast.

  Hunger won out, and Charlie eagerly bit down on the food. “Don’t think you can get out of this, my friend,” Charlie mumbled around the toast.

  “No talking with your mouth full, young lady,” said Matty automatically, pouring a second cup of tea and settling her ample hips on the chair which she had drawn up next to the bed. “Now, how are you feeling?”

  Charlie polished off her second piece of toast. “Besides bruised and hungry, and headachy, I’m damned anxious to know what’s being going on, and why you thought you had to drug me to keep me out of it.”

  She kept her voice firm and level, and her gaze on Matty.

  Ignoring it, Matty leaned forward and wiped a dab of butter off Charlie’s chin with the ease and familiarity of a long time friend. She sipped her tea and then straightened her spine in her chair.

  “Very well. The Colonel and I felt it would be best for you to sleep for a while. He was very concerned about Ponsonby’s threats and felt you were better protected here than you could possibly have been at the Crescent.”

  Charlie opened her mouth to protest, but Matty’s raised hand stopped her.

  “Just think a minute, Charlie. Would you have closed the Crescent? Would you have ordered a servant at each and every door to check out the guests as they arrived? How would you have protected the girls if someone had decided to punish them instead of you?”

  Charlie closed her mouth.

  “Would you at least have stayed in your rooms until Ponsonby either showed his hand or surfaced at his home again?”

  “He’s gone?”

  “Lock, stock and barrel.”

  “Well, I’ll be.”

  “The Colonel also made sure that his patients knew exactly what had happened, although he kept your name out of it. Just put it around that he’d surprised the doctor abusing a woman who needed medical attention. That was all it took.”

  “Didn’t that put Jordan…I mean his Lordship in danger too?” Charlie’s worried question brought an interested gleam to Matty’s eyes.

  “He didn’t seem to think so. He was more worried about you. And he’s been taking extra special care to make sure that you’re safe, and protected, and that nobody knows you’re here.” Matty nodded approvingly. “And he’s done it, too.”

  “He has?” Charlie looked at Matty, amazed that for once a man was finding approval in the woman’s very critical eyes.

  “Yes indeed. Tended to you all by hisself, he has. No one but that nice Mr. Arthur knows who you are. He’s the valet to the Colonel, you know,” Matty leaned forward conversationally. “Ever such a pleasant man. Says he’s been with the Colonel for years now. Ex-batman, now valet. Takes ever such good care of him, and he’s been making sure I get in to visit you with no fuss or bother every time I come over.”

  Charlie swallowed, completely taken aback at Matty’s amazing salute to Jordan Lyndhurst. “Really? Well, my goodness. So what did you tell the girls?”

  “I told them that you were visiting friends you’d met unexpectedly, and that you were going to spend a few days with them.”

  “How did they take it? I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “That’s probably why they took it so well. Mostly they said about time you took a few days off. A couple said don’t hurry back because the men look at them more with you gone.”

  Charlie grinned.

  “And I’m managing to keep everything up and running as best I can. The customers seem to be just fine, a few have inquired about you, men mostly,” Matty’s mouth turned down, “but overall, things are doing well. No need for you to worry at all.”

  “And is she worrying, Mistress Matty?”

  The deep voice tingled through Charlie’s consciousness and instinctively she pulled the covers higher up around her throat.

  Apparently, Jordan had noticed her movements, because his eyes followed her hand and his lips twitched into a little grin.

  “Lord love you, Sir, of course she is. But I’ve just finished telling her how things are at the Crescent, so she’ll be able to rest and not worry for a little while at least.”

  Jordan neared the bed and helped himself to the last piece of toast.

  * * * * *

  It felt like dry sawdust in his mouth, but chewing and swallowing gave him a focus that he might otherwise have lost while staring at Charlie.

  He’d had the last forty-eight hours with her, to learn her scent, her sounds, and briefly, the touch of her skin. But now she was fully awake, alert and already pulling down that veil of concealment over her gray eyes.

  He was determined not to let that continue. Somehow, some way, he was going to break through Madam Charlie’s fortress of control and breach her emotions along with her body.

  He licked his lips and was pleased to see a tiny shiver disturb the tousled hair around Charlie’s face.

  “I would like to give you my word, Madam Charlie, that I will protect you while you are here in my house. You should have no fears on that score. I understand that the Crescent has taken some sensible precautions too. I will be a lot happier when Ponsonby is located, but for right now, I don’t believe there is any more we can do.”

  He leaned against the tall post at the foot of the bed and surveyed her, enjoying the rumpled blonde hair that fell every which way, and the lace gown tied daintily around her neck that did nothing to discourage him from wanting to pull the ribbons until it fell apart.

  Or perhaps not even bother, just rip it from hem to trim and expose her heat, her pussy, her beautiful breasts…

  Jordan shifted his position and looked away, feeling unaccustomed warmth in his cheeks as he mentally stripped and fucked his houseguest.

  “I appreciate all you’ve done, my Lord. I cannot but believe that I have inconvenienced you.”

  Ch
arlie’s answer was all formality and her eyes were completely unemotional. Yes, she certainly had herself well in hand.

  “Not at all. You’ve spent most of the time sleeping. Not exactly a difficult guest to entertain,” grinned Jordan.

  “Well, now that I am awake, perhaps we should be making plans for my departure. I really must get back to the Crescent.”

  Jordan drew a breath but was forestalled by Matty.

  “Now, Charlie, let’s not rush into any foolish decisions. Right now, no one knows where you are. Give the Colonel a couple more days to see if his agents can locate Ponsonby.” She glanced quickly over at Jordan, who nodded slightly in approval. “You see, lovey, Ponsonby’s servant has been recognized as an out-and-out villain.”

  Charlie frowned.

  “Indeed, Charlie.” Jordan didn’t even realize he was calling Charlie by her first name. It just seemed so natural. “As soon as I had my people begin inquiries into Ponsonby’s possible whereabouts, we discovered that his servant has a history of violence. Especially against women. There have been stories of missing maidservants in homes where he has worked, and quite a bit of verifiable brutality. It appears the man is abusive without doubt, and possibly a killer into the bargain.”

  Charlie paled slightly. “Dear heavens. And we never knew.”

  “How could you? And under the normal course of affairs, you’d never have contact with him anyway. But now, seeing as Ponsonby is on the run from authorities who’d like to talk about his medical practices, and the whole collapse of his affairs began with a woman, we have no clue what his servant might be thinking or doing or encouraging Ponsonby to do. It’s a frightening situation, and one that we simply cannot control at this time. You are safest right where you are.”

  Charlie’s gaze flickered from Matty to Jordan and back again. Jordan held his breath as he watched her considering the problem from a variety of different perspectives.

  Her face remained impassive, her eyes calm and collected. But he had become attuned to her body language over the past two days, and he could tell from the tiny flicker of the pulse in her neck that she was disturbed by his revelations. The covers rose and fell over her breasts as she drew a deep breath.