Madam Charlie

by Sahara Kelly

  “So I didn’t need to flee to Calverton Chase after all,” she sighed, wondering at the strange way Fate had of arranging people’s lives.

  “Well, I’m glad you did, sweeting, you needed the break. And you needed to lay some old ghosts too. And now you’re home.”

  Charlie sighed again.

  “You just get comfortable and enjoy your tea. I have a couple of matters to attend to downstairs, and then we’ll have a nice cose, just you and me.” Matty hugged Charlie again and bustled off, leaving her alone with her tea.

  She stared at the pot.

  Suddenly a great sob erupted from her lungs, and without further ado, the tears fell.

  For the first time in many years, Charlie cried as if her world was ending. Perhaps it was, she thought to herself through her grief and her pain.

  For what would her world be like without Jordan in it?

  She sprawled on her bed, soaking her pillow with her tears. Letting the ache in her heart fuel her agony, and the ache in her ribs add to her pain.

  Never had she let her emotions loose in this way, in spite of the punishing and abusive treatment she’d received at the hands of her husband. She’d never given in to tears. Not like this.

  This was an almost unbearable, wrenching kind of pain, one that was torn from the very depths of her being. She had found her mate and had given him up. Lost him, left him, unable to be with him.

  A part of her was dying inside, and oh God it hurt so badly.

  She had finally fallen asleep on her soaked linens.

  Now it was late afternoon, and her new, post-Jordan life, was about to begin.

  She went through the motions of dressing for the evening, and tried to listen as Matty prattled on about recent events she’d missed, how business was going along, who was doing what to whom, and with whom, and how everyone was all agog to see the Victory celebrations.

  She assumed her role as Madam Charlie with ease and dignity, having erased all traces of her earlier sorrow. Some may have wondered at the almost unnatural calm she displayed, but many put it down to the “rest” she’d enjoyed while visiting friends in the country.

  Yes, Madam Charlie was back at the Crescent, Wellington had defeated Napoleon, and the world was as it should be.

  All except for one shattered heart.

  * * * * *

  “So you see, Madam Charlie, it’ll be just the most wonderful thing…” Three hopeful faces stared at Charlie two days after her return to the Crescent.

  “Just about everyone is going to see the Parade and the grand assembly of the military in the Park…”

  The request was but one of many Charlie had received over the past hours. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to honor the fighting forces that had performed so bravely and suffered such terrible losses on a small Belgian battlefield.

  The celebrations were in full swing, and Charlie admitted to herself that her girls were right. It was a once-in-a-lifetime occasion and would be “the most wonderful thing”…

  She made her decision quickly. “Very well. Pass the word amongst the girls. The Crescent is closed for the next two days.”

  Clapping her hands over her ears to deaden the sound of their screams of delight, Charlie gave them a wan smile and turned towards her office. Only there could she be guaranteed some peace and quiet in which to—to what? Yearn for Jordan?

  Moon over a man like a silly maid in the throes of her first love affair?

  Angry at herself, Charlie stalked in, closed the door firmly behind her and pulled some paperwork across the surface of her desk.

  She had all of five minutes uninterrupted quiet.

  “So you’re going to close up shop for a couple of days?” Matty peeked her head around the door without ceremony.

  “Yes.”

  “Good idea. Smart business move, too. Attendance has been down a lot since all this fussing about Waterloo began.”

  “Yes.”

  “Give the girls a rest, and the customers will start missing them when they find out we’ve closed for a day or two.”

  “Yes.”

  “You all right?”

  “Yes.”

  Matty frowned. “So will you be coming in to see the Celebrations tonight?”

  “No.”

  “But,” she hesitated. “Oh well, suit yourself. All this moping around is a bit silly, though, don’t you think? If you want the man that bad, go get him.”

  Charlie raised her head and glared at Matty.

  Unimpressed, Matty shrugged. “So what do I know about the matter? Just that you’re sitting there looking like a wet weekend, day after day. You’ve lost interest in the Crescent, Charlie, and that’s not good. Perhaps you should use this little break to consider your priorities.”

  With a snap, Matty shut the door behind her, leaving Charlie with a desk full of paperwork and a heart full of pain.

  It hadn’t gone away by that night when the Crescent emptied into silence and the residents departed in a chattering flock to join their fellow citizens in merriment.

  Charlie drifted through the rooms, noting their unusual state of tidiness. Indeed, business had been off.

  Understandable, given the excitement that had poured through the streets of London since the victory had been announced. But what wasn’t understandable was Charlie’s lack of interest in whether business was up or down.

  That was inexcusable.

  Moving quietly up the stairs to her room, Charlie wondered if Matty was right. Perhaps it was time for her to leave and move on.

  She slipped from her dress, lost in thought. Perhaps she could move to one of the inns she’d set up for her girls. But they already had people in place who were running them. They’d only end up resenting Charlie if she went to live there.

  For one of the few times in her recent years she regretted not tucking something away for herself. A little cottage in some remote corner of Cornwall might be nice. Or perhaps the Outer Hebrides.

  About as far away from Jordan Lyndhurst as she could get.

  Somewhere far enough away from the rest of the world to allow her to enjoy her memories in peace. Without pain, without tears, and without this awful longing that suffused each and every part of her body as she remembered his touch.

  And she remembered his touch every waking moment of her day.

  Her breasts hardened beneath her chemise, and she stood there, eyes closed, focused on the sensation.

  Then she slipped the light garment over her head and let it drop to the floor. She was naked, exposed to the air, and letting her memories wash over her like the firelight flickering from the hearth.

  She hadn’t lit any candles, so the corners of the room were dark. Dark like her thoughts, her emotions, and her needs.

  She sucked in a fractured breath as her pussy ached in memory of Jordan and his wondrous fingers. Her breasts swelled and her nipples budded at the recollection of his mouth and tongue, and her juices slicked from her cunt as she remembered how it felt to be filled with Jordan Lyndhurst.

  She yearned for his cock, hard and hot, plunging into her and showing her another universe of sensation and pleasure.

  She yearned for the sight of his eyes darkening with passion as he climaxed within her and drowning her womb with his seed.

  Her hand slid across her belly and into her short curls as she ached for the feel of his body against hers.

  Daringly, she slid her fingers between her folds of soft flesh, stroking that which Jordan had loved so cleverly with his tongue.

  She fondled her hardened nipples, all the while wishing for the one who could make them beg for his lips.

  Tears began to fall as she stimulated herself even further, heedless now of her surroundings.

  “Oh Jordan, Jordan,” she sobbed, slicking her hand through her juices, and cupping and squeezing her breasts.

  So involved was she that it seemed like another pair of hands was working her body.

  Another hand plunged deep within her, stretchin
g her, smearing her hot honey over her thighs, and teasing a spot inside her until she writhed in pleasure.

  Another rough hand cupped her breast, lifting it, weighing it, pressing it against her.

  Suddenly, a hard cock pressed into her buttocks, a hot body plastered itself down her back and the fingers thrust deep inside her.

  “Charlie. My love. My heart. Did you think I would let you go?”

  Charlie gasped, wanting to turn, wanting to scream but not being able to find her voice.

  He was there. Behind her, loving her, arousing her to fever pitch in a way which told her he knew her body so well.

  “Jordan,” she moaned, leaning back into his embrace. “Why are you here? I can’t stand the pain of leaving you again…” She gasped as his fingers played inside her and touched a particularly sensitive spot.

  “No questions, Charlie. Not right at this moment. I’m just going to love you, make you feel, make you laugh and sigh and shout out my name. I just want to do what I always want to do. I’m going to bury myself deep inside you, Charlie, and it’s going to be the most wonderful thing for us. Because we’re making love as well. That’s what’s different about us, sweetheart. That’s what’s so special. Anyone can fuck. We make love.”

  Charlie felt herself loosen and flood his fingers with her moisture as her body responded to his words.

  She wanted him, more than she wanted air to breathe. She wanted his lips on hers, his hands all over her and his cock thrust into her cunt where it belonged.

  She turned and jumped on him, hungrily plastering her mouth to his, gnawing at his lips, and demanding entrance.

  He permitted her tongue to venture inside, teasing it with his, flicking, withdrawing, tantalizing her with his mouth, while his hands pressed her closer to his nakedness.

  How he had come to be in her room, naked, and ready for her, she couldn’t guess. Nor, at this particular moment, did she care. All that mattered was that he was in her arms, making her feel alive again, pressing his heart to her breasts and her pussy to his arousal.

  He toppled them on the bed and without further ado, plunged his cock into her heat.

  She sighed, opening her legs wide in welcome.

  Jordan thrust deeply into her, only stopping when his balls touched her body.

  “There, Charlie. That’s where I’m supposed to be. Now I’m home.”

  “But…Jordan…”

  The questions began flooding Charlie’s mind like her honey was flooding Jordan’s cock.

  But then he moved and she forgot whatever it was she was thinking about.

  Forcefully claiming what was his, Jordan withdrew and thrust back again, balls deep, teasing her clit with his fingers and lifting her buttocks to his groin.

  She could feel him inside her, deeper than he’d ever been. Touching places that had never been touched, never been loved like this before.

  He took her to the edge of madness then let her come back a little, laughing when she begged him for more.

  He withdrew and flipped her, stroking, biting, nibbling and even letting a few gentle spankings fall onto her buttocks.

  She was soaked with her own juices and his, and pressed her bottom up towards him, inviting, encouraging, and offering him everything she had.

  She felt him slick his hands through her honey, stroking her and moistening the little rose hidden deep in her cleft. She relaxed into his caresses, liking the feeling of him touching her there.

  She knew she was trembling as he pressed himself gently against her, and it was with a mixture of excitement and trepidation that she focused on her tight ring of muscles and allowed the tension in them to ease.

  Slowly, almost without detection, Jordan slipped inside her, sliding between her cheeks with a groan.

  He was gentle, only intruding a little way before stopping and letting her adjust to his presence.

  She found it an amazing sensation. “Jordan. I’ve never…”

  “I know, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. Trust me.” His voice was rough, husky, almost savage sounding as he slipped a little more deeply into her.

  He let his fingers move to her clit and began to draw it out, back into its state of excitement.

  Her hips moved and she gasped at the new sensation. His cock and his fingers were now filling her and she tensed as his skilled hands began bringing her towards the top of the mountain again.

  She felt him grunt as she pushed back slightly, hungry now for his possession, feeling nothing but exquisite pleasure at his presence within her.

  His fingers were pulling, teasing, flicking her clit, and her muscles began to tighten unbearably.

  “Jordan…” she choked, overwhelmed by her body’s response to this man.

  “Let it go, Charlie, let it go…”

  He pressed roughly on her clit, and it was enough.

  Enough to send her mind soaring, and her body into a whirling, spinning burst of fire that seemed to consume every inch of her.

  She screamed.

  * * * * *

  They lay in a tumbled cuddle of limbs and linens and sweat. Jordan couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy, this sated, this relaxed or this content.

  He squeezed Charlie and made her yelp. “What was that for?”

  “I love you. God how I love you. And you left me.” He nibbled on her shoulder with gentle but firm bites, licking her skin to ease the sensation. “I just wanted to make sure this was really happening.”

  That delightful giggle he loved popped out. “Oh it happened. My backside will attest to that.”

  Jordan cupped the soft cheeks. “Sore? Did I hurt you?”

  “No, not really. It’s just that I’ve never…well, I mean you’re the first to…”

  “And the only one ever to.” He interrupted her with his firm comment. “You’re mine, Charlie. For now and forever. There will be no one else touching you, looking at your body, or pleasing you. No one. Ever.”

  Charlie raised her hand and stroked a lock of hair away from his eyes. “I feel the same, Jordan. I can’t stand the thought of another woman…touching…” Her hand fell to his chest and brushed his nipples.

  “Well, that settles it, doesn’t it?” He tugged her across him and rested his chin on her head. “We’re getting married.”

  She stiffened, but he had her tight in his arms. He wasn’t about to let her go again. He waited with interest to see her reaction.

  As always, she surprised him. “I don’t recall accepting a proposal.”

  A crack of laughter erupted from his lungs. “Well, if you don’t call what we just did a pretty definite statement of future intentions…”

  Charlie chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

  He squeezed her again. “Do I need to ask Charlie? Was I wrong in thinking that you’d be interested in spending the rest of your life with me?”

  “Jordan, I…” She raised herself up on one elbow, letting her hand idly trace his features. “We women love to be asked, you arrogant male.” She pinched his chin gently, then dropped a kiss on it. “But you weren’t wrong. I’d like nothing better than to spend my life with you. But Jordan,” she stilled his words with a finger to his lips. “You know it’s impossible.”

  Jordan allowed his lips to curl beneath the touch of her hand. It was time to play his trump card.

  “Impossible? For a member of the Fighting 95th? Shame on you, Charlie. If Wellington can defeat Boney, surely Colonel Lyndhurst can solve a simple problem.”

  Charlie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You’ve got a plan, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, and if you hadn’t gone running back to London full of high principles, ethics and other such noble thoughts, we might have come up with it together.” He pouted and slipped his hand across her upper thighs, making her shiver.

  “How, Jordan?”

  He could hear the pain in her words, the wanting, the desire for him that he knew he could match, inch for inch.

  “How do you feel abo
ut a long sea voyage?”

  The Colonies! He was talking about going to the Colonies.

  “But, dear heavens, what about the title? Calverton Chase? Jordan, what can you be thinking?”

  Charlie’s heart was pounding as a tiny piece of her began to accept that there was a chance for them. A small chance, but a chance nevertheless.

  For the first time in days, her spirits lifted their heads and peeked out of the bleak fog that had buried them.

  “I’m thinking of the Colonies, Charlie. America. There’s a new land across the ocean with new opportunities, and a new way of doing things. One where titles and relationships don’t matter, but hard work and intelligence does. Where gossip probably exists, but can’t ruin a reputation. Where the sun doesn’t rise and set on what your title is or who you know, but what you are and what you can do. What do you think, Charlie?”

  She let his words wash over her, filling her empty spaces, offering her hope—offering her something she thought she’d relinquished forever. A future.

  “Would you settle for being plain Mrs. Lyndhurst? Wife to Colonel Lyndhurst? Temporarily unemployed new citizen of the town of Boston?”

  “You’ve been planning things out, haven’t you?” She needed only one look at his satisfied expression to know that this particular plan would leave no stone unturned, no loose ends to be tied.

  Putting her theory to the test, she asked the most obvious question. “The title, Jordan. You can’t just ignore it?”

  “No I can’t. But next in line to inherit is my brother-in-law, since there is no other male relative. They have several children, I forget how many.” Charlie couldn’t resist a sharp dig at him as he revealed a cavalier attitude towards his nephews and nieces.

  “Ouch. I do forget. They seem to be always having ‘em, or just had ‘em or about to have another one. They need a bigger place, and Calverton would be perfect. They’re thrilled at the prospect, my brother-in-law is a wonderful manager and will take excellent care of the property. My sister will lord it over the neighborhood and become the most obnoxious ‘Lady of the Manor’. The neighbors will probably never speak to her again or fight for invitations to her parties. I don’t know which.” He grinned wickedly.