Claiming Her Master, page 3
“Can you excuse me a moment?” I murmured to my gentleman.
He paused, frowning down at me. “What now? I’d hoped to be home with a brandy by now.”
“It will take but a second,” I said and slipped my arm from his grasp, darting to the narrow staircase where Emmy hid.
“Emmy, you shouldn’t be here. Remember what Madame said.”
“I know,” she said with a pout. “My beauty could cause riots and provoke one of the visitors to take a free sampling. Heaven forbid Madame doesn’t get paid.”
“Emmy,” I sighed. Sometimes the girl was a contradiction. She looked and acted innocent, but her words often belied a greater understanding of the world than even I could claim. “I said goodbye earlier. I promise to visit at first opportunity.”
“We simply wanted a glimpse of your protector.”
“He’s a fine one, isn’t he?” asked another girl hidden farther in the shadows.
“Go upstairs, Emmy and Lucy. Madame will punish you if she catches you.”
“She won’t catch us,” Lucy said cheerfully. “She hasn’t got her money from your man yet.”
“Go.” I shooed them up the stairs with my hands and quickly returned to my gentleman. “My apologies, there was a small matter.”
“Your friends wanted to see me.” Dry humor danced on his words.
“You heard?”
“I have excellent hearing, and they weren’t exactly whispering.”
I licked my lips and looked up anxiously at his face, but white teeth gleamed in semidarkness, transforming his face into a thing of masculine beauty. My breath hitched at my luck. Madame had warned them to accept any gentleman who bid, and even hinted that an older man would demand less. But I shivered at delight that Lucas held many physical attractions. Then I snorted at my silliness. As if I had anything to be proud of. The man didn’t even seem to want me, and only wanted to best his brother.
I lowered my gaze and stepped toward Madame’s parlor.
“They called you Charlotte.”
“What?” I paused with one foot nearly in the doorway of the parlor.
“The girls on the stairs called you Charlotte,” he repeated. Coarse hairs dotted his cheeks and chin and he had shadows under his eyes, the kind that lack of sleep formed.
“They did, but Madame prefers Charlene. She believes it to be a more fitting name for a mistress.”
“Which is it to be then? What do you prefer?”
“Char…” I hesitated, unsure how to proceed. “Lotte,” I said. He’d already won the auction. Surely he wouldn’t renege because of my name, and it boded well that he even cared about my preferences. Remaining Charlotte helped me retain a core piece of my soul. And surely it didn’t connect me to my family. There were loads of Charlottes in London.
“Come in, Charlene. Stop dithering in the hallway,” Madame said from behind her desk.
“Charlotte and I were just conversing,” he said with an emphasis on the second half of my name. He helped me into my seat and elegantly sank into one beside me.
Madame’s lips pursed for a second before she smiled brilliantly. “I’ve done a quick bit of research.”
Lucas said nothing, simply steepled his fingers together and waited for Madame to explain what she meant by research.
“You are Lucas Morgan, long thought to be dead, and twin to the current Earl of Westhunt.”
It was obvious to everyone in the room Lucas was a man of virility, the opposite of dead.
“Normally, I’d question your identity, but you resemble your brother to a remarkable degree.”
“We are identical twins.”
“Identical in all respects?” Madame’s tone was sharp and probing. “I ask because your brother is a powerful man. He made it very clear to me he wanted to win my first-ever mistress auction. So tell me, Mr. Morgan, why should I allow you to steal my prize mistress out from under your brother’s nose? Do you have the means to protect me from your brother’s wrath?”
My eyes widened and my stomach turned over. Then this wasn’t a sure thing? I could be passed like cake to the next highest bidder—a man who looked as though he ate young maidens for breakfast?”
“If all goes according to plan, I will not only protect you, but the entire city, nay, the entire world from my brother.”
Both Madame and I fell silent at Lucas’ confident and unexpected words. What did he mean by protect the world from his brother? What kind of horrifying person was the Earl of Westhunt. He’d seemed the typical lord, with no goals other than to get drunk and carouse with his friends.
Madame fiddled with papers on her desk to hide her consternation.
Morgan leaned forward and said in a quiet, urgent voice, “Madame Bella, heed my words. If you allow this young lady to go with my twin, she will not fare well. You will earn a reputation—”
“A reputation of giving my customers what they demand,” Madame interjected.
“Perhaps, but if one of your girls was to go missing or die, it would make it more difficult to procure more students, would it not?”
I sat back, barely able to breathe. Go missing? Die? How evil was his brother? Why wasn’t he in Newgate? Remaining an impoverished ward of my mysterious cousin was looking better and better.
Long seconds ticked by while Madame considered his words.
“Very well,” she said at last. “Sign here.”
In a blur of speech, Madame dictated Mr. Morgan’s promises and my obligations to Madame. I was to send fifteen percent of my monthly stipend back to the school for the period of three months. I was to receive a residence and an account at a dressmaker among other things. In return, I was to be at his beck and call, and to submit to whatever sexual desires he demanded. I barely caught it all. I hardly dared acknowledge the time had come for me to leave the safety of the school and apply all I’d learned in the past months.
Before I could form any questions or last-minute pleas for Madame, I was bundled into Mr. Morgan’s carriage and alone in the dark with the man.
We drove in silence for a few moments.
“Where shall I drop you?” he asked.
“Pardon?”
“I asked where I should direct my driver.”
“I realize you haven’t had time to procure a house for me yet, but surely you’ve given thought to where you’ll keep me,” I said in a low voice.
He sat back against the padded bench. “I have no plans of keeping you. My intent was to take you from my brother. Mission accomplished. You’re free now, where shall you go?”
His words hit my stomach like a prize fighter’s punch and horror settled in. “You can’t do this. You promised Madame.”
He chuckled. “Worrying about your fifteen percent, are you? Never fear, I’ll send Madame her money.”
“But…” My sisters, what would I do? All my grand plans of saving my family began to crumble before my eyes. I’d planned I’d use my clothing allowance to set up my sisters in London. Without that, they had nothing. How would Elizabeth go through a Season? Where would we live?
Mr. Morgan propped his booted feet beside my thighs. “You’re a pretty chit. You’ll find another protector soon enough. Where shall I take you?”
“With you,” I blurted. “I have no place else to go.” The skirt of my dress squeezed and wrinkled beneath my worrying hands.
His feet hit the floor of the carriage with a thump and he leaned forward, forearms on his powerful thighs. “Listen here. I arrived in town only recently, I have no permanent residence, and I don’t sleep with whores. I certainly don’t live with them.”
I gasped at his cruel words. “I’m no wh…”
“Save it, Charlotte. You stood on that auction block smiling and displaying the wares for all to see. Don’t play the missish virgin now.”
I swallowed hard over the sudden lump in my throat. What could I do? Was he to throw me onto the cruel London streets? Would I have to stumble back to my family’s crumbling estate admitting failure? No, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I sat up straight on the bench, eyeing my adversary.
Madame’s many lessons about the male gender rolled through my head. I had to prove my worth to him or he’d throw me on the street. Madame wouldn’t take me back because my use to her was gone. No one would believe Mr. Morgan hadn’t taken my virginity.
Without a further word, I dropped to my knees in front of him and reached for his trouser buttons.
I barely had time to process where her hands were before my cock was out and gently squeezed between two of the softest palms I’d ever felt. My eyes closed and my hips reflexively gave a short upward thrust.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, but she didn’t answer.
Her hot mouth wrapped around me and I hardened instantly. Blood pounded between my legs and it was all I could do to keep from crying out. It had been long, too long, since a woman’s soft touch had been near me. I gripped the pillowed fabric of the carriage bench and squeezed, fighting for control, but rational thought abandoned me as Charlotte’s mouth wove a magical spell around me. Christ, I’d never felt anything this amazing in my life.
I’d heard rumors of such things, but sailors rarely had time for extended love play. A quick game of in and out at every port was all I’d usually manage. Why was she doing this? Did she think I’d change my mind about keeping her? Although I’d offer her marriage if she kept her mouth wrapped around him for a few minutes more.
I placed one hand around the crown of her head, sliding my fingers around her silky, wheat-colored tresses. My movements caused her hair to spill out of her elegant style and fall onto my thighs adding yet another texture of delight.
I tried to tell myself this was wrong and that I should stop her, but then I remembered the girl was a whore. She’d willingly put herself up for auction at which I’d paid a king’s ransom for her use. Why shouldn’t I enjoy some pleasure for my coin? Even if it made me a moral turd, barely better than my brother. At least I wouldn’t beat her after.
She slid her mouth up and down my swollen shaft, her tongue doing amazing things at the base. When I felt a tiny lick on my tightened balls it all became too much and I exploded into her mouth. Cool air whipped at my softening cock when Charlotte sat back and smiled coyly at him.me
“I’ll be good to you. You’ll love having me around,” she said with shining lips. She really was pretty in a quiet sort of way. If she were the kind of woman who’d go to London for a season, she wouldn’t be a belle, but she’d easily find a match.
I snorted and tried to arrange my trousers to discretion. “Somehow I doubt that.”
She pouted. “You didn’t enjoy that?”
“It was bloody brilliant, and you know it,” I said, looking out the window or anywhere but into her anxious-to-please face. I was embarrassed at how easily she’d distracted me with sexual favors.
“I promise to do it every day if you allow me to stay with you,” she said and slid up onto the seat next to him, placing her hand suggestively on my upper thigh.
My cock actually gave a little jump at the nearness of her hand. In fact, if it were up to that particular appendage, Mistress Charlotte would be on her back, legs in the air while it pounded into her. And Christ, every day? The idea was overwhelming in its appeal. Hell, I’d ask her to do a lot more than that. A picture of her dressed in nothing but delicate gold chains around her wrists and ankles entered my mind and my shaft jumped again.
Seven years ago, when I’d first started my travels, I’d purchased delicate gold shackles from a mischievous vendor in an eastern market place. At twenty-two, I’d barely understood their purpose. Now I’d finally met a woman on whom to use them.
She gave a small smile as if she could read my thoughts and was ready and willing to be my sexual slave, chained for my pleasure. I couldn’t let my mind go astray. For a wild minute I wondered if the whole auction had been engineered to derail my plans to investigate my brother. But no, Sebastian had been genuinely shocked to see me alive and irate at losing Charlotte. I needed to lose my new mistress and go looking for answers.
“One day. You can stay the night, but tomorrow, I expect you gone.” I waited for her to pout and whine like most women I’d known, but she merely smiled and kissed me on the cheek as if I were her big brother.
“Wonderful. You won’t regret it.”
I’d been given a reprieve. Granted, it was only one evening, but at least I wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets tonight. I’d simply have to convince Lucas I was worth having around. If his reaction to my little performance was any indication, I could unpack permanently tonight. Oh my, had Madame Bella known what she was talking about.
When she’d first discussed that particular sexual act and demonstrated on a willing footman, I had been aghast. It looked quite messy and humiliating, but it had really worked. Lucas had been at my command for a few glorious minutes. And it hadn’t been horrible—in fact, I’d liked holding his cock in my hand. It was warm and silky and hard all at the same time. Pleasuring him left me feeling edgy and heated. Perhaps I should demonstrate my mastery of some of Madame’s other lessons.
He seemed ready, if the swollen nature of his penis was any indication. Madame had said men needed time to recover, but Lucas had hardened almost immediately after I’d placed my hand on his lap. Perhaps I hadn’t performed correctly. Oh goodness, I was such a naïve little virgin. How could I have thought taking copious notes during the months of lessons were enough to make up for any real experience in the bedroom?
I’d simply have to try harder. When they arrived at his home, I’d remove my clothes and enter his bedroom and refuse to leave until I’d pleasured him thoroughly. Unless of course, his wife was waiting for him…
I looked up quickly. “Are you married?”
His brows lifted. “No. What gave you that idea?”
Relief flooded me. “I was checking.”
“If I had a wife, I sure as hell wouldn’t be out purchasing mistresses.”
The vehemence in his voice shocked me. According to Madame, aristocratic gentleman thought nothing of having a wife along with a mistress. One for the breeding, one for the fucking, but Lucas didn’t seem to think that way.
“Or maybe I would be,” he muttered.
“Pardon?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you said something. I heard you,” I said insistently.
He picked up my palm and set it firmly off his lap onto my skirts. “If you keep up the questioning, you’ll be out of this carriage faster than you can say ‘I’m no virgin’.”
“But…”
“Enough, Charlotte. It’s been a long day. I’m weary.” To prove his words, he leaned his head against the carriage seat and closed his eyes.
I decided not to provoke him further. What was it Madame had said? Oh yes, men were often more loquacious after a good meal. It was her recommended time for asking for baubles or other favors.
While jewels would help, I needed a bit more money than some paste jewels would offer. A Season in London was expensive. If I was to help Elizabeth through, I needed the reliability of a monthly income for some time.
Sitting back, I pondered my future while Lucas pretended to sleep. Rather badly, too. Having three younger sisters, I was aware when someone actually slept and when one faked it to get out of an unwanted conversation.
He didn’t want to talk to me or keep me, which begged the question of what awful sin his older brother committed to force Lucas to such devious behavior. Why had he spent a fortune on a mistress he didn’t want?
A few minutes later, the carriage halted in front of a dark home. I peered around as Lucas opened the door and hopped out with athletic grace. He held out a perfunctory hand as I stepped down onto rough gravel. He reached back in the carriage to yank out my satchel. Moonlight glinted off weeds poking through the dusty dark stone along the path leading to a large arched front door.
No butler greeted us, only darkness, which Lucas fixed by setting a light to a candle set on a table just inside the entry. How he did this in near pitch darkness I didn’t know.
“You have no servants?” I asked in a low whisper, fearing a louder voice might scare off the ghosts that seemed to be lingering.
“Only one and I told him not to wait up. Hold this.”
My arms wrapped unthinkingly around my satchel, which he thrust into my chest, and I followed him down the hall and up one flight of stairs where he paused at the top landing.
“Damn,” he said under his breath.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I just realized something. Follow me.” He turned to enter the first door on the right where the candlelight danced on a large bed in an even larger room where a fire blazed in the hearth. “You’ll sleep here.” He pointed to the bed and turned on his heel to exit.
I dropped my satchel and caught his arm. “Where will you be?” I tried to infuse my tone with honey and hide the fact that this creepy, dark house scared me a bit.
“Not here.” He shook off my arm and exited, leaving me alone in near blackness.
“Goodnight,” I said to his retreating back, but he didn’t respond.
Once alone in the room, I turned toward the bed and tried to feel my way to it in the near darkness. A bit of the firelight reflected off the bed and I paused when my toes bumped into a small something on the floor. I bent down and picked up the mysterious object. Soft, bendable leather told me they were shoes, slippers really. Judging from the length, they belonged to a man. Lucas most likely, since he was quite tall. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see something other than the slipper and the large bed. I could make out a tall wooden dresser, but the objects on top were hidden in darkness and revealed no clues.
Whose room was this? Lucas had said he was only recently back in town and had not procured a home. If he had but one servant, would he have taken the time to order a guest room readied? Most likely not, which meant this was Lucas’ room.
