“It’s good to see you,” Emmy said, squeezing even tighter.
“How is life on the outside?” Lucy asked. She hadn’t hugged Charlotte, but instead stood three feet back with her observer’s eyes as she nearly always did in a crowd.
Charlotte laughed, thrilled to be back with girls she welcomed into her heart as sisters. “Girls, let me take my coat off first. Then I shall tell you all.” She unbuttoned her wool pelisse and shrugged it off, laying it carefully on the back of a chair.
“Sit here, Charlotte.” Emmy patted the cushion next to her and grinned.
She returned the smile and skirted her way around the three other eager girls to join Emmy.
“Very well, what shall I tell you first?” she asked, folding her hands in her lap.
“How is Mr. Morgan? Is he as kind as he is handsome?” Emmy asked.
“Or is he cruel like his brother?” Lucy countered.
She threw a sharp look at Lucy. “How do you know of Lucas’ brother?”
“Oh ho, he’s
Lucas
is he?”
Her cheeks felt warm at the hint of intimacy. Getting dressed to visit the girls this morning, she’d deluded herself into feeling every inch Lucas’ wife and lady of the manor. However, stepping back into Madame Bella’s domain hammered home the fact that she was nothing more than Lucas’ highly trained mistress and would never amount to anything more. “How do you know of Mr. Morgan’s brother?” she asked.
“We overheard Madame talking,” Lucy said.
“A lucky thing he didn’t win the auction,” Emmy said and patted the back of her hand. Though there was a smile on her face, Charlotte could see fear in Emmy’s eyes. Any one of the girls could be sold with little recourse to a monster like Westhunt. “Is it common for a man to beat his mistress?”
Now it was Charlotte’s turn to pat her hand. “Of course not. Some men are inclined to evil. Most will treat you as gently as Mr. Morgan treats me.”
“Does he love you?” one of the other girls asked.
All five girls leaned in, watching her intently. Charlotte’s gaze circled the inquisitors, and she tried to smile but failed. She might be falling for her master, but he’d said nothing in kind to her. “Don’t be silly. Men don’t fall in love with their mistresses. We serve a different need. Remember Madame’s lessons. Falling in love is a path to heartbreak.”
All the girls sat back and looked away, except for Lucy who seemed to see right through her. “I think you’ve gone and fallen in love with
him
though.”
“Yes, Charlotte. You do sound like a woman in love,” said a familiar voice from the doorway.
Charlotte looked up and had the shock of her life at the sight of her younger sister in Madame Bella’s foyer. “Elizabeth! What are you doing here?”
Elizabeth sashayed into the room, clearly aware all eyes were on her beauty. She even put Lucy in the shade, no small feat. Her full breasts overflowed a daring red dress no debutante should wear. Her glossy, golden locks were piled high on her crown with some spilling down to hug the nape of her neck. “What am I doing here? Why, I’m taking my rightful place.”
Charlotte struggled to swallow over the sudden severe dryness in her throat. “What… What do you mean?”
Elizabeth scoffed. “Oh come now, Charlotte. Don’t play me for a fool. I discovered Madame Bella’s letter to you. It was me she wanted, not you.”
Charlotte stood on shaking legs and stepped toward her sister. “I was trying to protect you,” she whispered.
“How? By stealing my glory and having a London adventure for yourself?” With her hand on a hip and her head cocked at a proud angle, she could’ve taken the London theaters by storm. “How dare you try to steal my place here?”
At her words, a heated flush rose from Charlotte’s belly up to her cheeks. “You see this as an adventure?” Her palm cracked loudly on the surface of a glossy wood side table. “I’m a whore, Elizabeth.”
Gasps emerged from the other girls in the room who’d gone silent at Elizabeth’s entry.
“I sacrificed myself so you could have a Season and make a good marriage, but you’ve thrown it all away.” She turned away from her sister, unable to stomach the sight of the girl’s haughty ignorance.
“Madame Bella says marriage is simply whoring yourself for free. This way perhaps I’ll make a bit of coin for myself,” Elizabeth said. “And I like it. The lessons are…stimulating. Far more than Edward could ever have taught me.”
Charlotte stepped back and collapsed onto the sofa, sick at Elizabeth’s presence and her equanimity over her dalliance with Edward, one of their former groomsmen. “Who knows you’re here? Anne? Meggie? Anyone else? It’s not too late. In six months I should have enough to bring you to London for a real Season. We’ll find a proper chaperone. Father was a baron. You could still make a good match.” The desperate words spilled from her lips, but fell on deaf ears.
“I’m eighteen, Charlotte, and no virgin. Madame Bella’s proper age for an auction. She’s already put the word out that there is to be an auction for me two weeks hence. She feels confident my beauty will match the price your virginity brought.”
“Two weeks,” she gasped. “No. Don’t do this.”
“It is already done.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, why?”
“Charlotte.” Madame Bella’s sharp voice sounded throughout the room. “Come see me in my study. Girls, back to your lessons.”
Charlotte gave her sister a beseeching look, but Elizabeth had already turned to exit. She stood slowly and followed Madame to her office and tried to calm her racing heart.
“Charlotte.” Madame Bella smiled when they reached the office as if they were dear friends, not teacher and student, or mistress and fellow whore.
“Madame.” Charlotte inclined her head then looked up, surprised. The formerly barebones office now matched the front parlor for grandeur. Gold velvet chaises held up the opposite walls and an elegant wood desk with dear, carved legs faced the door near the back wall.
Madame moved behind the desk and sat gracefully. “Mr. Morgan’s generous bidding went a long way to bringing our little school up to my standards.”
Her lips stretched into an obscene smile. “Glad I was able to assist.”
Madame’s eyes narrowed. “Sit.” She gestured to the spindly chair facing her.
Charlotte sat and watched Madame, who kept her blasé expression in place.
“You’re angry I allowed Elizabeth here.”
She nodded.
“I’m a businesswoman, and Elizabeth is good business.”
Her fingers fisted in the sumptuous fabric of her skirts and she forced herself to take a calming breath before shouting at her boss, “She could make a good marriage.”
Madame shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“I did this for nothing.” She stared at the carved wooden leg of the desk where it rested on a floral motif of the rug.
“Not for nothing. You have some life experience now. Quite a bit, I’ve heard from my sources.”
Charlotte flushed, thinking of all the places she and Lucas had visited during their weeks together. Lucas…oh my. If Elizabeth was here, there was no longer a reason for her to remain in London with Lucas. She could return home. However, the thought of leaving Lucas felt like a slap in the face.
“Don’t do it.”
She lifted her head to wince at Madame’s piercing gaze.
“I see what you’re thinking. Don’t go home. You’re under contract for the next two months. I will still demand payment from you if you leave.”
“But—”
“You think you love him, don’t you?” Madame interrupted.
How much should she confess? It felt a betrayal to her feelings to share them when they were so new. Madame would be angry she hadn’t heeded the number-one lesson or number two, come to think of it. She’d told Lucas all about her family and financial troubles.
“Charlotte?” Madame’s sharp voice held no softness.
“I’m sorry, Madame. You’re correct of course.”
Madame rose again and walked to the office door to shut it with a
click
. “Your emotions are as clear as if you’d written me a note.”
She twisted her neck to look up as Madame returned to her desk. “I…”
“Have I ever told you how I came to open this school?” Madame asked.
“No.”
“I too broke the number-one rule of mistresses. I fell in love.”
“He did not return your love?”
“Oh, he did.” Madame gave a bitter laugh. “Sadly, not enough.”
Charlotte kept silent, waiting for the harsh lesson Madame had learned at the hands of her lover and hoped she’d have enough sense to learn from another’s mistakes and not be destined to relive them herself.
“I remained his mistress for years. I knew he’d never marry me. I was never that hopeless.” She removed a quill from her desktop and twirled the feather. “I’d simply hoped he’d stay with me after his wife died. A marriage of sorts.”
“He didn’t?” Charlotte ventured.
Madame snapped the quill’s point. “He did not. Within six months after his wife’s death, he remarried. A chit right out of the schoolroom, but she was no green girl. She demanded he cut me from his life and he agreed.”
“Oh,” she said softly with sympathy.
“I was too old to find another protector. Men like youth. I had no heart for the game anymore and few financial options. I decided to help other ladies learn from my mistakes. Which is why you must not fall in love and harbor ridiculous notions regarding Mr. Morgan. Will he love you? Maybe. Marriage? Never.”
Charlotte studied the lacework at the hem of her skirt. Madame was correct, much as it hurt to admit. “I’m sorry for your experience. Please be assured, I will stay with Lucas and your money will be delivered on time.” She concentrated on breathing slowly and keeping her tears from flowing. When she rose to exit, Madame pressed a packet of letters into her hand.
She fled from the house without bidding farewell to the other girls. Hot tears pressed at her eyes, but she squeezed the mysterious papers, realizing they must be letters from her sisters at last. Her sisters, having been told she was working as a governess, addressed mail to a friend of Madame Bella’s who then forwarded them on to Madame.
Once in the carriage, she ripped open the first in the stack of letters, praying her sisters’ chatter could cheer her, but their words only forced the rush of tears harder down her cheeks.
Dearest Charlotte,
By the time this reaches you, it may be too late, but I write in desperation and feel you would want to know all the news from home.
Elizabeth has disappeared. After you left, she railed against you, complaining how you escaped to London to be a governess, leaving us at the mercy of our approaching cousin. Last week, she stopped complaining and now we know why. She had a wicked plan! She left a note telling us not to worry, but she found her own way to London. Meggie and I are beside ourselves because of all the dangers of her alone in that awful, great city. We wish you were here to instruct us on what to do. We write hoping you can find her, but how will you ever discover her location? Oh, what shall we do?
Your worried sister,
Anne
Sobs burst out at the disaster she now called her life. Her first instinct was to run for home immediately, if only to share Elizabeth’s whereabouts with her sisters. How could her sister have done something so absurdly ridiculouos? She’d be sold to the highest bidder, and who knew if the man would be someone as wonderful as Lucas.
Her tears welled up again at the thought of the strong, fierce man who’d stolen a piece of her heart. She couldn’t possibly stay with him, sharing a bed for the next month without confessing her love. Would he release her from their arrangement as he’d offered their first night and continue paying Madame’s monthly commission? After all they shared, would he let her go so easily?
She’d have to write home immediately, she decided after examining the date on her sister’s letter before her sisters did something rash like come to London themselves. Lucas would be at a men’s club listening for rumors about his eldest brother’s death and wouldn’t be home until nightfall. She’d have time to race home and write and hope Bellamy was home to frank the letter for her.
Every second the carriage sat in the busy London traffic was a gnawing rub at her anxiety. She was no longer simply Lucas’ mistress, but also a devoted sister who needed to get word to her family that Elizabeth was safe for the time being. Although once Elizabeth went up for auction, who was to say she’d continue being safe. Her weeks with Lucas had taught her there was a dark side to sexual relationships. If the man who bought her services wasn’t as kind as Lucas, she’d have almost no recourse or means to escape.
She rested her chin in her hand, leaning on the door and watching London streets fly by without seeing anything clearly. The realization that she was anxious to get home to Lucas and have him solve her problem didn’t sit well. She’d been the mother figure for a long time and wasn’t used to depending on others in a crisis. She needed to remind herself that Lucas may hold the title of her protector, but it was simply in name only. Any saving of her family had to be undertaken by her alone.