Lady Pamela and the Gambler: The Merry Misfits of Bath - Book Three

by Hutton, Callie

  Marcus directed his words to Pamela. “Nick told me about your boarding house, and I believe it is one of the places we’ve been investigating. Even though it is my job to get the bill through parliament, I became quite interested in the problem and did quite a bit of probing myself.”

  Pamela sat back, her eyes wide. “Th-then it wasn’t m-m-my imagination? Mrs. O’Leary r-really was luring young w-women to the house f-f-for the purpose of s-s-selling them?”

  Marcus nodded. “Yes. And I believe, along with Nick, that the attempt to run you down in the road was the action of those involved trying to shut you up.”

  The rest of the meal passed in pleasant discussion, which Mrs. Fletcher introduced by asking Marcus about various events and places of interest in London. Nick was grateful for the turn in conversation because Pamela seemed to relax after being so upset with the talk of kidnapping.

  They all retired to the drawing room where Marcus only stayed for about another half hour before rising. “I will be in touch, Nick. There are several places on my list that we can visit together and see what we can find out.” He paused for a minute. “Bring a gun if you have one.”

  Nick walked him to the door and stuck out his hand. “Thank you for coming tonight and for your help. Lady Pamela is very upset about her friend.”

  “Yes. I noticed.” He grinned. “It appears you have a special interest in helping the young lady. I wish you the best with that. Lady Pamela is a lovely woman. But I will do anything I can to help, also. I feel so helpless when I beg for votes for my bill and am blocked by those who don’t wish for things to change. At least if I can help one young girl, and possibly turn the information over to the police in the process, it will help me sleep better at night.”

  If Marcus Mallory was indeed the rake he’d been labeled, he certainly had a soft side to him rarely found in men with that moniker.

  Once Marcus left, Nick returned to the drawing room, taking the chair across from Pamela. Mrs. Fletcher stood and stifled a yawn. “I believe I will seek my bed. It’s been a long day with the travel and company for dinner.” She looked over at Pamela. “You should retire as well, my lady. You are still recovering from your injuries.” She gave Nick a purposeful glance.

  “Pamela will be right up. I have a few things to discuss with her.”

  Mrs. Fletcher hesitated, but finally bowed her head. “Very well. Good night, then.”

  Pamela eyed Nick carefully. She didn’t care for the look in his eyes. On the other hand, her body seemed to care a great deal since a tingling began in her middle and soon became a warm flush on her face.

  Nick lowered his voice and crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”

  Her heart immediately sped up. His voice and the look in his eyes brought tingles to various parts of her body. She should say no. She should leave the room. She should shout for Mrs. Fletcher. But instead she walked, as if in a dream, to where he sat. He reached out and grasped her good hand and pulled her forward. She tumbled onto his lap.

  “Th-this is m-most improper.” She fumbled to straighten her skirts which were wrapped around her legs.

  “Mrs. Fletcher isn’t far, and if you are really concerned you may call her at any time.” His slight smile turned into a grin when she didn’t respond. And didn’t stand up. And didn’t call for Mrs. Fletcher.

  He resettled her body, so she faced him. Slowly, as if to give her time to stop him, he cupped her chin and lowered his head. A slight brush of his lips on hers brought a slight moan from deep within her chest. That seemed to embolden him to tilt her head and take the kiss deeper.

  He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she opened. He tasted of brandy and something minty. He pulled away and scattered kisses over her cheeks, forehead, nose, and jaw. “I want you Pamela.”

  “Mrs. F-F-Fletcher.”

  He continued the assault on her skin. “Are you reminding me of her, or trying to call for help?”

  “N-n-no.” She wasn’t sure why she mentioned the woman. All rational thought left her as Nick continued to kiss her, nibble on her ear lobe and breathe words of desire in her ear.

  She leaned her head to one side to allow him to continue kissing her neck. Were she in her normal mind, she would have felt him fumbling with the back of her gown, but that didn’t occur to her until the front of her gown dropped below her stays. One little move and the entire front would land in her lap.

  “Beautiful.” Nick stared at her, then ran his hand over the swells above her stays. “So beautiful.” He leaned forward and kissed her there, the warmth from his mouth causing goose flesh to rise. Pamela wrapped her hand around his head and pulled him closer.

  “Oh, yes, my love.” He quickly untied the ribbon on her chemise and released her breasts from the stays. His tongue swirled around her nipple which grew hard and taut.

  Pamela was growing warm and wet in the area between her legs. She felt the need to push that part of her body against something hard. Almost as if Nick had read her mind, his hand slid up her calf, under her gown. He massaged and caressed her skin until he reached the area that throbbed for some sort of release.

  She sucked in a breath then closed her eyes as his thumb circled a part of her that ached. “Y-yes. Y-yes.”

  He brought his mouth back up to her face and stared in her eyes. “Relax, my sweet and let me pleasure you.”

  She wasn’t sure what he meant, all she knew was whatever it was he was doing, to whatever part of her body she had been unaware of until now, she never wanted him to stop.

  The feel of his fingers working her flesh made her even wetter. She had no idea what was happening to her, but it felt wonderful and she didn’t want it to end. In fact, she wanted something more that she wasn’t aware of.

  “Does that feel good?” He mumbled against her lips as he continued his ministrations, then bent to again take her breast in his mouth, suckling hard. At the same time, he pressed his thumb firmly against her and she began to cry out as wave after wave of something glorious that she’d never felt before washed over her. Nick quickly covered her mouth with his to swallow the sounds she could not seem to control.

  Small jerks of pleasure continued as Nick slowly stopped moving his fingers against her. Pamela slumped in his arms, feeling as though all her bones had melted. She looked up at him. “What was that?”

  He smiled as if gazing at a young child and pushed the curls behind her ear. “Ah, my innocent one. That was what is called an orgasm, or a climax. It’s what makes intimate relations between a man and a woman so very nice and satisfying.”

  She suddenly realized she was sprawled all over Nick with the bodice of her dress around her waist with his hand up her skirts. If Mrs. Fletcher chose that moment to check on them, her reputation would be ruined.

  “I n-n-need to f-fix myself.” She shifted, and in her attempt to move as quickly as possible, she fell to the floor in a swirl of skirts. She looked up at him. “H-help.”

  I was obvious Nick was trying very hard not to laugh, but she imagined she must have looked quite comical with her skirts almost over her head and everything else in disarray.

  He scooped her into his arms and stood, then placed on firmly on the floor. “Let me help you.”

  Her knees were having a hard time holding her up as he gently put her clothing to right. Now that the cloud had cleared from her brain, all she could think about was Mrs. Fletcher finding them, or anyone else for that matter.

  Nick finished with her gown and covered her lips with his finger. “Shh. Don’t say anything.”

  “Wh-what do you m-mean?”

  “I can hear your brain telling yourself what a horrid person you must be to have allowed that.”

  Pamela raised her chin. “Well. Th-that is true. F-f-for as wonderful as it felt, it was t-t-totally improper.”

  Nick placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. The softness there, and something else she didn’t dare identify both warmed and frightened her.


  “Hear this, sweetheart. I intend—have always intended—to make you my wife. Then we will do things like that and much more in our own soft bed with a firmly locked door between us and the rest of the world.”

  She shook her head furiously. “N-n-no. I c-cannot m-m-marry you. Or anyb-b-body. You w-w-ould grow t-tired of listening to m-me.”

  He ran his knuckle down her cheek. “No. I would never grow tired of listening to you. Don’t you realize I’ve worked for you all my life?”

  She frowned, not sure what he meant.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. “You are the reason I am Mr. Nicolas Smith, not some gutter rat diving for trinkets in the Thames for a man who beats children, starves them, and forces them to work for the pittance he allows. Some stale bread and a glass of ale.

  ‘You’re the reason I pulled myself up out of the slime of London and worked my arse off to become better. It was you that I struggled for with learning to read, to speak properly, to dress properly. I pushed myself through lessons on which fork to use, and how to dance. I knew in my heart that one day I would meet you. The other half of my heart. Of my soul. I spent a lot of years getting ready for you. Now that I’ve found you, I am not letting you go.”

  He took in a deep breath and chuckled. “I never made such a speech in my life.” He tapped her on the nose. “You see what you do to me? If the employees at my club just heard me, I would be laughed out of the city.”

  “I th-think it was v-very sweet.”

  He grimaced. “And don’t ever tell anyone I’m sweet, either, if you don’t wish to see me bludgeoned to death.”

  She tried very hard to keep the tears from her eyes, but it wasn’t possible. No one had ever appreciated her the way Nick did. She was almost beginning to believe he really didn’t care that she stuttered.

  “Lady Pamela. I believe it is time to rest and recuperate from your injuries.” Mrs. Fletcher stood in the doorway in her dressing gown and night cap, her arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping a cadence on the floor.

  13

  Three days later Nick met Marcus at White’s Gentlemen’s club. While Nick had been scouring St. Giles, Whitechapel, and anywhere else he thought he could find information, Marcus had been raising questions among those in his world who knew where to obtain a guaranteed ‘clean’ girl.

  Since most times a virgin was either drugged or tied down, Nick had no use for the men who patronized such places. Luckily, he’d found a staunch supporter in Marcus Mallory.

  Once they were settled at a small table in the dining room of the club, with glasses of brandy in front of them, Marcus said, “I believe I hit the jackpot, as they say in poker.” He took a sip of his drink. “Three different men—I will not call them gentlemen—told me of a place where the upper class go when they are interested in the sort of women like Miss Davenport.”

  “Innocent.”

  Marcus nodded. “There is a fear out there of catching venereal disease and then passing it along to one’s wife.”

  Nick snorted. So much for marital fidelity.

  “The wealthier men can afford to deflower virgins. In my investigations over the past few months I found there are ‘shopping catalogs’ that those with the means can browse through to find the age and physical description of the various girls and women available. It can run anywhere from two to five pounds to purchase a virgin.”

  Nick shifted in his seat, his anger building as he listened to Mallory. So many women and children put into sordid lives against their will. “What of the police?”

  Marcus shrugged. “No help there. I contacted someone in the Metropolitan Police, who said they were aware of this place, and had it on their list of brothels they watched, but there were simply too many for them to do much more than keep them on the list.”

  “Even if these brothels were getting their women from kidnapping?”

  “Sadly, yes.”

  They both sat silent for a few moments. If Miss Davenport had been taken to this particular brothel, she would have been there for over a week already. Which meant there was very little chance that she had remained untouched.

  Nick blew out a deep breath. “She might be at that one, but if there are so many places that the police have a list, it might take us weeks to find her.”

  “I suggest we start there because this same one came up in conversation with all three men. I can’t tell you how dirty I felt even asking about this. It took all my control to keep from plummeting them to the ground.” Mallory glanced over Nick’s shoulder and tensed.

  “What is it?” Marcus looked like he was ready to do some plummeting right then.

  “I won’t say who, but one of the men with whom I spoke just entered the club. Slapping members on the back, smiling and acting the jovial earl. He is a regular customer of the brothel I mentioned, and he has a wife and seven children.”

  Nick let out a low whistle and shook his head. “I wonder how he would feel if one of his children was kidnapped for such purposes.”

  “Indeed.” Marcus finished his drink. “So, what do we do next?”

  “We?” Surely this gentleman of the ton, a member of the House of Commons wasn’t suggesting he join Nick in re-kidnapping a young lady from a notorious brothel?

  “Yes. I am committed to rescuing this young friend of Lady Pamela. I have a sister, too, and the thought of anyone putting their hands on her for nefarious purposes makes my blood boil.”

  Nick thought it over for a few minutes. He’d always worked alone when he was involved in dangerous things. From his childhood, he learned to never trust anyone else to back him up. After a minute of swirling the brandy in his glass, not looking up at Marcus, he said “I would prefer doing this myself since I have a background in dealing with thugs.”

  Marcus straightened in his chair. “No!”

  Nick narrowed his eyes at this man who looked as outraged as if his sister had been the one kidnapped.

  Mallory continued. “I will go with you. I am a skilled marksman and can acquit myself quite well in the boxing ring.” He leaned forward. “Two will work better than one. Despite your rescue of the young girls by yourself, you need to understand that while that might work in a shady pub in Bristol, this brothel we’re discussing won’t be as lax. If she is indeed there, you will never get her out by climbing out a window.”

  Nick chuckled, but realized Mallory was right. Not being a patron of brothels himself, he really didn’t understand how the workings of the upper class’s decadent places of pleasure worked.

  Mallory continued. “We can’t blast our way in, because they will have guards.”

  Nick nodded. “Like my club.”

  “True. But while your people are guarding money, which the players are willingly losing, these men will be guarding women who were brought there against their will.”

  Nick leaned back in his chair glad he’d brought Mallory into this. He never thought he would find himself working hand-in-hand with a member of the ton. “So, what do you suggest?”

  “Ask those who frequent the place if they are familiar with this girl. I will need a complete description of her, including anything that would set her apart from others. Once I’m certain there is a good chance she is there, we will enter the debauched world of those seeking perverted entertainment.”

  Nick’s stomach roiled at the idea of aligning himself with the degenerates, but with his promise to Pamela, he would do exactly that.

  Nick nodded. “I’ll get a description from Lady Pamela today. I’ll send it by messenger and as soon as you know if Miss Davenport is there, send me word and we will go immediately.”

  Marcus downed his drink and stood. “I await your missive.”

  Pamela paced in the library at Montrose House anxious for Nick to return and relate the information he’d received from Marcus. Curse the fact that ladies were not permitted in gentlemen’s club. Curse even more that Marcus chose that as the place to meet instead of coming to the hou
se

  Men! They always did things their way, never taking into consideration how anxious others were.

  Grossman stepped into the drawing room. “Lady Pamela, you have a visitor.”

  Pamela turned as her sister-in-law entered the room. “Corinne? Wh-what are you d-d-oing here?”

  “It is nice to see you as well, sister.” Corinne walked across the room and kissed the air next to Pamela’s cheek.

  “I’m s-s-sorry. It’s just that th-this is such a surprise. How d-d-did you even know I was h-h-here?”

  Corinne pulled off her gloves and waved her hand in the air. “There is very little that one can do that does not reach the ears of everyone who matters.”

  She meant, of course, herself as one who matters. Corinne was never one to minimize her importance. At least in her own eyes. “My dear, please send for tea. I have the beginnings of a megrim.”

  Her sister-in-law settled herself on the settee directly across from the fireplace, shoulders stiff, back ramrod straight, her delicate hands in her lap.

  “Yes. Of c-c-course.” Pamela walked to the corner and pulled on the brocade to summon Grossman. While she waited for his response, she pondered the surprise visit from her brother’s wife.

  The man bowed as he approached her. “My lady?”

  “Grossman, w-w-will you arrange for t-t-tea, please?”

  Pamela took a deep breath and walked to the middle of the room and took the seat to the right of Corinne.

  “Pamela, dear, how many times do I need to remind you not to ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ the staff? They are paid to serve you.” She smoothed out her skirts and offered one of her cold smiles.

  “H-how is my b-b-brother?” She might as well start the conversation since she knew from experience Corinne would not divulge the reason for her visit until she was quite ready.

  “He is well. As always. He neglects me to spend too much time at his clubs, but then that is to be expected when one is married to an earl.” She patted her upper lip with a delicate handkerchief. “But I suffer in silence as a good wife must.”