by P. F. Kozak
“You’ve been with both of them, haven’t you?”
“It would be indiscreet of me to answer that question, Pamela.”
“You don’t have to, because I know you have. In one of your letters, you speak of initiating Peter. You were his first, weren’t you?”
“Your father brought him to me and entrusted me with teaching him. I did what Sir George asked of me.”
“And Peter still comes here. He came here only two days ago, to see you before meeting me.” Pamela slowly walked over to the bed and stared down at it. “Does Peter love you as my father did? Is that why he still comes here?”
“You foolish girl, Peter Rennard does not love me, he loves you!”
“How can you say that? You could not know such a thing!”
“Oh, but Pamela, I do know. And now you shall. You came here wanting to know of your father. What there is to know you have already read in my letters. What you do not know is how Peter Rennard suffered these many years since your father died.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about. Suffered how?”
“He suffered with his hungers, and his struggle to protect you from the cravings of a man. He came to me to help him preserve your innocence.”
“But, Nellie, I want him to be my first, as you were his! I wanted that even before Papa died.” Pamela sat down on Nellie’s bed and ran her hand over the pink quilt. “Last night, he finally agreed to it. He said he would be my first.”
“Thank the heavens above. I told him you were a woman now and would be ready for him.”
“You told him that?”
Nellie came over and sat down on the bed beside her. “Pamela, Peter is a complex man who values his privacy. But given his longing for you, he needed someone to help him control his urges. He came to me because I knew Sir George, and through your father, I knew you.”
“My father spoke of me to you?”
“Oh, my dear, many times. Your spirit delighted him, although I doubt he ever told you so. I heard many stories about your antics.”
“I didn’t think men would talk of such things in this place.”
“You would be surprised what men wish to tell. Their hearts, and their mouths, open when they are satisfied with a woman and a glass of gin.”
“Has Peter spoken of me?”
“There is only one word he has spoken here which you should know.” Nellie took Pamela’s hand. “Dear girl, he has mistakenly called me Pamela on more than one occasion.”
Pamela closed her eyes. “Dear God, please let that be so.”
“It is so, Pamela. The first time, you had just left for boarding school.”
Pamela stifled a sob. “Nellie, he sent me away! I had no one except him, and he sent me away.”
“I do not mean to betray my dear Peter, but I must tell you, Pamela, the night you left, matters of the flesh did not concern him. He came here only to soothe his soul, as he had no one else who understood.”
“And all the other times he has come here? What of them?”
“Peter Rennard is a commanding man, Pamela, in all matters. He comes here when he needs release.”
“How can I hope to be to him what he finds here? He will think me callow compared to you.”
Much to Pamela’s surprise, Nellie laughed. “Oh, dear Pamela, it is your innocence that appeals to him so. He wants you, my lovely girl, much, much more than he wants me!”
“But I want to please him. Nellie, I want him to come to me, not to you.”
“And he will, Pamela. I am sure of it.”
“Then help me.”
“Help you with what?”
“Help me know what to do to please him.” Nellie still held Pamela’s hand. Pamela turned to face her and took hold of her other hand. “Nellie, you know his habits, you must! He’s been coming here for so many years.”
“Pamela, you ask much of me.”
“As you did of my father. He did not refuse you.”
Nellie stood and walked to the window, overlooking the street. “Pamela, a woman such as I am knows much about men. I am privy to their secret desires. It is true, I know some of what Monsieur Rennard finds pleasing.”
“Will you tell me of his desires, Nellie? I so want to know.”
“If I tell you some of his inclinations, you must be careful how you use this knowledge, Pamela. He is exceptionally protective of you and of your innocence. You cannot be to him what I am. That is not what monsieur needs from you.”
“Nellie, I do not understand.”
“He must always feel he is the one guiding and teaching you. Now that I have met you, I see clearly why he has given you his heart. You are quite charming and lovely, but that is not all that draws him to you.” Nellie gestured toward the sitting room. “Come, Pamela, let us have some more tea and we will talk.” Nellie led Pamela back to the sitting room.
“Are you going to tell me what you meant?”
“Yes, but first allow me to help you settle a bit.” Nellie went to a cupboard and took out a decanter. “A bit of brandy will soothe you and you will hear me better for it.” Nellie added a healthy dollop of brandy to Pamela’s tea. “There, now. Sip that while we talk.”
Nellie added brandy to her own cup before continuing. “Pamela, your father told me many stories of his daughter, who had the spirit of a bird in flight.”
Pamela smiled. “He often called me ‘Little Bird.’ He said I flitted about like a hummingbird.”
“The delicacy of a hummingbird does not describe your soul, Pamela. The daughter of Sir George is as adventurous as a gull flying over the sea. What Peter Rennard responds to in you, my dear, is the flight of your spirit, the fearlessness of your nature, the openness of your heart.”
“I want him to respond to me as a woman. Until last night, he had not.”
“What happened last night?”
“He touched me intimately for the first time.”
“Did you respond to his touch?”
Despite her timidness about speaking to Nellie of such things, Pamela answered honestly. “Yes, I responded. He excited me terribly.”
“Peter enjoys watching women who are not afraid to show their arousal. Did he ask to look at you?”
The blood rushed to Pamela’s face. “Yes, he wanted to watch me.”
Nellie smiled. “If he asked you that, he is well on his way to accepting you as you would like, Pamela.”
“Nellie, I wanted to show him, and I wanted to see him as well.”
“Did you touch him?”
“Yes, he likes to be rubbed.”
“Are you listening to yourself, Pamela? You are asking me to tell you of his hungers. You are the one telling me.”
“Nellie, I don’t know anything.”
“Child, you will learn. Peter is the one to teach you. You must also tell him what you wish. He will be open to hearing, especially now.”
Pamela took a large swallow of tea, to bolster herself. “Even if I wish for him to spank me?”
“My dear girl, where on earth did you come by that? I know your father never once laid a hand on you.”
“I saw a spanking, and it stirred me.”
“Provoke him enough, and I am sure he will oblige.”
“Do you know if he would be inclined to it? Spanking me, I mean.”
“Peter is inclined to most activities of the flesh. I am sure taking you over his knee and slapping your bare bottom would please him greatly.”
Pamela had the nearly uncontrollable urge to squirm in her chair at the thought of Peter taking her over his knee. “I have read about such things. It is only Peter whom I would allow such a liberty.”
“As it should be, Pamela. No other man has the right to take such liberties with you.”
“You say that when you have known many men in your lifetime?”
“Pamela, it is my profession. It is not yours. You must always protect yourself against those who would take advantage of you.”
“I have, Nelli
e. Always. I only want it to be Peter.”
“Your father did not understand how locking the two of you together as he did would play out as you became a woman. You have both struggled against that which naturally pulls you, one to the other. It is time to allow the fires inside to burn brightly.”
“You loved my father, didn’t you?”
“Your father treated me with kindness and generosity. Love is an indulgence I could not afford.”
Pamela pointed to the letters. “You wrote to him of your feeling. He would not have kept your letters if he had not felt the same.”
Nellie picked up the bundled stack. “Please, take these with you.”
“But Nellie, they belong to you.”
“No, dear, they belong to you.” Nellie’s eyes filled with tears. “Pamela, I cannot look at these, they would torment me. But you saw your father in them. For that, they should remain with you.”
Pamela took the bundle and tucked them in her bag. “Do you still have his letters to you?”
“No, I burned them after I read them. Letters such as he wrote to me should never be left for others to read.”
Pamela jumped when someone knocked on the door. They heard Henry’s voice a moment later. “Miss Nellie, Jack says it is getting late. Master Rennard left instruction to be called for early today.”
“Very good, Henry. Pamela will be there momentarily.”
“Nellie, may I come visit you again?”
Nellie hesitated. “Pamela, I doubt Peter will allow it.”
“Stuff and nonsense! Peter does not tell me what to do!”
Nellie smiled broadly. “My dear, you are the daughter of Sir George. If you wish to visit me, you certainly may. I must say you will no doubt receive that spanking you want because of it.”
“Might I tell you of it when it happens?”
“If you wish. That will get you another walloping, I suspect.”
Nellie took Pamela’s arm to escort her to the door. Rather than walk ahead, Pamela turned and embraced Nellie. “Thank you for receiving me. If my father loved you as I believe he did, you are an exceptional woman. I am most pleased to have met you.”
Nellie held Pamela tightly. “And, dear child, I am most pleased to have met you. You have grown into a beautiful young woman. Sir George would be proud.”
Pamela wiped the tears from her face, as Nellie dabbed her own eyes with her handkerchief. Together, they walked down the dark, steep stairs to the tavern proper.
Jack immediately stood when he saw Pamela. “Miss Pamela, are you all right?”
“I am very fine, Jack. Miss Flambeau is a most gracious hostess.”
“I’m sorry for interrupting, miss, but the mister will have me arse if I’m late fetching him. He asked I call for him at two o’clock.”
“That’s fine, Jack.”
“Thing is, miss, there isn’t time to take you to Piccadilly first. I have to go straightaway to fetch the mister.”
Pamela glanced at Nellie and smiled. “And won’t he be surprised when I am in the carriage to greet him!”
Nellie patted her hand. “I am sure he will be very surprised. Make the most of it, dear.”
“Thank you, Nellie, I will.”
Chapter Nine
Peter stood at the corner of Gray’s Inn Road and Holborn Lane, waiting for Jack to bring round the carriage. He glanced at his pocket watch yet again. Fifteen minutes past two. Tucking the watch back into his vest pocket, he felt a vague sense of unease move through him. He had never known Jack to be anything less than punctual. To be as much as fifteen minutes late meant that something of a serious nature must have detained him.
Just as Peter considered flagging a hansom cab to take him home, he saw his own brougham coming toward him. His concern heightened when he saw Jack coming from the wrong direction, driving the horse much too quickly for the busy street. As the carriage slowed and stopped in front of him, Jack jumped down to open the door.
“Jack, is everything in order? You are late.”
“Yes, sir, so sorry, sir. Everything is all right. Miss Pamela had me drive her, making me late to fetch you.”
“Pamela? Where the devil did she want to go?”
“Sir, it ain’t up to me to tell you. She will if she likes.” Jack gestured toward the carriage door.
“Are you telling me Pamela is inside?”
“Yes, sir, that’s what I’m telling you.”
Peter didn’t wait for Jack to open the door. He jumped up on the step and pulled the door open himself. “Pamela, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”
“Hello, Peter.”
Peter hoisted himself into the carriage and sat down beside Pamela. “What are you doing here? Jack said you asked him to drive you. Where did you go?”
“To visit an old friend of Papa’s.” Jack stood outside the open door, waiting for instructions. Pamela leaned across Peter’s lap. “Jack, could you drive us around a bit? I would like some time to speak to Peter before going back to Piccadilly.”
“Certainly, miss.” Before Peter could counter Pamela’s request, Jack slammed the door shut and climbed up to the driver’s seat. The carriage lurched as it rolled down Holborn Lane.
“Pamela, tell me what on earth you’ve been doing. What friend of your father’s did you visit?”
Pamela gave Peter an inscrutable look before she opened her bag. Pulling out the bundle of letters, she handed them to him. “Do you recognise these?”
Peter took the letters. For a moment, he didn’t understand. Then, the full realisation of what he held swept through him. “Where in the name of God did you get these?”
“From Papa’s cupboard, the one we claimed from storage yesterday.”
“That cupboard has sat empty for six years! I checked it myself before they took it away!”
“Papa had them in a drawer at the bottom. He either took the handle off or it fell off. Lucy found it when she scrubbed the cupboard before storing my things.”
“My God, Pamela, you didn’t go to see her, did you?”
“Yes, Peter, I did.”
“Have you lost whatever good sense I thought you had? I will have Jack’s hide for taking you there!”
“Peter Rennard, you will do nothing to Jack! He took me only because I made my way onto Piccadilly to hire a cab. He had no choice.”
“Pamela, you have always been strong willed and foolhardy, but this is beyond anything someone with intelligence and breeding would do! Taking it upon yourself to enter Nellie’s establishment is sheer madness!”
“Peter, I think you mean her brothel.” Pamela glared at him. “I know you went there before meeting me at the train.”
Peter threw the packet of letters on the floor. “Did Nellie tell you that?”
“Nellie told me nothing of it. Someone else saw you there.” Pamela bent down and picked up the letters. “Have you read these?”
“Of course, I haven’t. They belonged to your father, not to me.”
“I read them, all of them. Some of them I read twice.” Pamela gently ran her hand over the bundle. “Papa loved her. And she loved him. How could I not want to meet her, Peter? How could I not?” Pamela’s voice trailed off into barely a whisper. “Peter, I understand why Papa loved her.”
“Pamela, she is a whore.”
“And she is the woman who gave Papa love after my mum died.”
“You do not seem to understand, Pamela. She has loved many men.”
“No, Peter. You do not understand. She has given herself to many men, but she has only loved one. She told me so today when we spoke. Even before I met her, she told me so in her letters to Papa.”
“Whatever you read in those letters does not justify what you did, Pamela. I hope to God Jack stayed with you the entire time.”
“He accompanied me into the tavern. I wanted to speak to Nellie privately. We went to her sitting room.”
“Upstairs?” Peter hit his knee with his fist. “She took you upstairs?”
“Yes, where I am sure you have been enough times to know the way.”
“I do not have to explain my behaviour to you.”
“Nor do I have to explain mine to you! I don’t believe you are angry because I went to see Nellie. I think you are angry because I caught you red-handed! The secret you had with Papa is not a secret any longer.” Pamela tucked the letters back into her bag. “When you are ready to discuss this in a civilised manner, you might care to read what Nellie had to say about you in these letters.”
“Pamela, I don’t give a damn what Nellie says about me in those letters. I also don’t give a damn that you know I frequent her establishment. What I do give a damn about is your well-being. The utter stupidity of putting yourself in jeopardy as you did makes me want to lock you in your room and throw away the godforsaken key!”
“I did not put myself in jeopardy.”
“Bloody hell you didn’t! A beautiful young woman, dressed as you are, in a location frequented by men from the docks and God knows who else? Pamela, you stood ripe for the picking!”
“Jack protected me.”
“Jack couldn’t protect you with a knife between his shoulder blades, now could he?”
“Peter, we were never in any danger.”
“And how would you know that? If you were being watched, it would be by the grace of God you’re sitting here beside me.”
“Why are you being so unreasonable about this?”
“Unreasonable? Is that what you think I’m being?” Peter grabbed Pamela’s wrist and held it tightly. “Do you have any idea how it feels to me to know you could have been in danger, that in an instant, I could have lost you?”
Pamela tried to free herself of Peter’s hold. “Let go of me.”
“Like hell I will!” Peter pulled her roughly against him.
Pamela made a fist and struck him hard against the chest. “Let me go.”
“Pams, I’m not letting you go, not now, not ever!” Peter gripped the back of Pamela’s neck and forcefully pulled her head toward his. Pamela struggled to free herself. Her bonnet fell onto the floor of the carriage and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. When his lips met hers, his fury at what she had done fused their mouths together. He kissed her harshly, his fingers digging deeply into the flesh of her neck.