by Wendy Vella
"The two girls abducted often stand on my street. Molly and Helen.” She shot him a look, but his face remained still, no disgust marring his handsome features. "And I fear whoever has taken them has done so to put them to work in another brothel, or sold them. I worry that even now they are on a boat bound for somewhere."
"The other girls that you believe have been kidnapped, were they also taken from the streets?"
“I know they have been taken,” Charlotte confirmed. “And yes, one from the street. The other worked in a brothel and was abducted as she left the Home to run an errand.”
"Home?" His blue eyes stared at her intently.
She'd known who Lord Needly was, of course. Being raised the bastard child of a duke meant you heard the gossip about others of noble birth, even if you were secreted away in the country. People talked, servants, guests, and Charlotte had been good at hiding and listening to people when they didn’t know she was near.
Lord Needly was respected among his peers and sat in the House of Lords. He had fought for his country, but she had no idea in what capacity, as no one seemed to know the answer to that. He was wealthy, and had a brother and a married sister; beyond that, she had heard rumors that he liked to keep the company of women and enjoyed his life in society.
"I try to create a welcoming atmosphere for the people who come to my house, no matter how long their stay is, and they named it the ‘Home.”
“I see.” He steepled his fingers, blue eyes still steady on her face. “I should imagine there are a few people who do not like your interference, Miss Radley.”
“There have been incidents that support your belief, Lord Needly.”
"And what incidents do you speak off, Miss Radley?"
"As you say, people see my house as interference; they seem threatened by me offering the woman help. I've had a burning torch flung in my window, which Fred was quick enough to fling out again, and other small incidents. However, I had believed those days were now over as I pay the money… or had done until tonight."
“Money?”
“I live in an area most people would not walk through in daylight, Lord Needly. Therefore, it was pointed out that it was in my best interests to pay for protection, and, until last night, that seemed to keep those who were unhappy with me away.”
“What happened last night?”
“Someone threw manure over my front step.”
“Will you drink some brandy if I get it?" His words were gruff, and Charlotte thought that perhaps he was unused to woman speaking so directly in his parlor.
"There is no need, my lord, I assure you I am quite all right."
"Your eyes and the color of your skin would suggest otherwise, Miss Radley."
"I wish to tell you all I know, Lord Needly, so that you may find those girls. There is no time for anything else."
He looked at her for a heartbeat and then lowered his head in a regal nod. "Very well, please continue."
“All the girls who were taken have spent time with me in the Home. It could be a coincidence.”
“But you don’t believe it is. You believe that in some way what is taking place involves you?”
“Yes.” Charlotte felt ill at the thought. “Yet I don’t know who is doing this, or why someone would take them because of me.”
He questioned her further and Charlotte told him everything she could remember. He listened intently, eyes focused on her face, and she felt like a moth trapped by a flame.
"I-I believe I have told you everything now, Lord Needly." Not everything, Charlotte thought, but she could not tell him the rest because surely it had no bearing on what had happened to those women. Dear God, please let it have no bearing.
"Then it is time for you to go home, Miss Radley, and I shall come to you when I have information regarding the missing girls."
"If you decide to look for them now, I had hoped to come with you." Charlotte regained her feet quickly; too quickly, as she felt her head spin. A large hand gripped her elbow to steady her.
"It is obvious you have taken a blow to the head, Miss Radley. Therefore, you need to go home and rest. You have asked for my help, and now must trust that I will do what is right for your girls, but to do that I cannot have you with me, nor would I take you to the places I will probably go."
Charlotte braced her legs before pushing away from him. "I have seen all that is to be seen in the worst parts of London, Lord Needly; you could not shock me, I assure you."
“Perhaps, but still you will not be coming with me. Go home and sit at least, drink tea, pace if you must, but you will be more hindrance than help to me."
"Very well." Charlotte nodded slowly, as her head was thumping. "I shall wait for any word from you, Lord Needly."
"Where do you live?"
"Number twenty-two Thimble Lane, my lord, it is in the—"
"I know where it is, Miss Radley, and may I add it is not a place fit for anyone to live, most especially not a lady."
"I am not a lady, nor do I need your censure, Lord Needly.” Charlotte attempted to rein in her temper. “If you have no wish to venture there, then send word, and I shall come to you.” A lot of wealthy people did not step foot into that part of London unless they were seeking the allure of a brothel or gambling den.
"Should I be insulted that you believe venturing into the East End of London is beneath me, Miss Radley?"
Charlotte wished she'd kept her mouth shut, but she had come across so much bigotry and bias in the last few years, she tended to group all peers together. It was a failing, and one she must try to overcome. Yet in all honestly, no person of noble birth had ever looked on what she was doing with anything other than disgust, and she saw no reason for that to change with this man.
"I apologize, my lord,” Charlotte said stiffly. She must appease him. If she had any hope of finding her girls, she would need his help. “My only excuse is that history has taught me those of your kind do not see my vocation in a good light."
His eyes ran over her face slowly, and Charlotte found herself holding her breath. This man was disturbing. There was something about him that seemed to make the air around her come to life. He was big and vital, and had aura of careful control.
"My kind?" he said, softly.
"Men of noble birth." Charlotte lifted her chin. She had learned to stand her ground with people, or they took advantage of her, and she would not allow anyone to do that to her again.
"You are very young to have such a view, Miss Radley. I cannot believe that all noblemen have disillusioned you?"
He was playing with her now, like a large lion, reaching out a paw to bat its prey into retaliating.
"I am twenty-six years old, my lord, and have no time to banter words with you at such an hour. Those girls need your help, and as I have stated, if you will not go to their aid then I will." Charlotte moved slowly and was relieved when her head did not spin.
"I gave you my word that I would, Miss Radley. Accusing me of reneging on that is not a way to get into my good graces."
"I'm sorry if my words have upset you, my lord,” Charlotte said, realizing she’d tweaked his pride. “It was not my intention; I merely wish to find those girls and ensure no more are taken."
"I do not get upset, Miss Radley," he said in clipped tones. "However, I do not like people who have no acquaintance with me casting judgments."
"It was not my intention," Charlotte said, walking around him in a large half circle, as one would an angry beast, "and rather than cause you any further distress I shall leave." She had her hand on the door when his covered hers.
"Young ladies get distressed, Miss Radley, men get angry," he gritted out. "I will see you to your carriage."
“I have no carriage.”
“Then how did you get here?”
“I walked.”
“You walked here also, and that was after walking through some of the more notorious streets of East London? God Lord, surely it took you close to two hours?”
“And Fred is?” The words were snapped out, and she could see he was getting angrier with every one she uttered.
“A boy.”
“Chadley!” Lord Needly held her eyes as he roared the name, and seconds later, the butler she had bullied into letting her into the house appeared.
“Call for my carriage please.”
“At once, my lord.”
“It’s three a.m., Lord Needly!” Charlotte said, horrified that a poor servant was even now being roused from their warm bed. “I assure you there is no need for this.”
“There is every bloody need!”
“Do not use that language with me,” Charlotte snapped.
He was so close, his body just inches from hers, his head lowered slightly as he looked down at her.
“You associate with prostitutes and no doubt other more nefarious individuals, yet you don’t like me saying the word bloody?”
“They try not to not curse in front of me, my lord.”
His bark of laughter was loud, echoing around the walls. Charlotte looked at the polished tiles and grand, sweeping staircase off the Needly townhouse. Her father’s house had been like this but grander.
“I apologize, Miss Radley.” He bowed deeply, as one would to a duchess.
“Thank you.”
Silence settled around them, and Charlotte wanted to twitch and shuffle her feet but did not. She had given those nervous traits up when she came to London.
“I will wait outside for the carriage, Lord Needly, if you wish to retire.”
“You have not met many gentlemen, have you, Miss Radley?”
She shook her head.
“A gentleman would not allow a woman to wait outside for a carriage when she could do so inside, where it is warm. He would also not trust her not to walk off into the night, considering she arrived on foot.”
Charlotte looked down at the toes of her boots as guilty heat flushed her cheeks.
“I am head of my family, have raised two siblings, fought for my country, and am part of an investigative service that has cracked cases many could not, Miss Radley. I’m afraid you will have to work a lot harder to get something over me in the future.”
“The few noblemen I knew were a lot easier to fool, I assure you, my lord,” Charlotte said, lifting her head in time to see his smile. “But I shall heed your words and put my back into any further attempts.”
His reply was interrupted by the sound of carriage wheels.
“Where is the boy Fred now?”
“Outside. He has a distrust of noblemen and did not want to enter your house with me.”
“Wonderful,” Lord Needly said, moving to the door and opening it. “Another untrusting soul.”
The boy was sitting on the top step and got to his feet as he saw them, moving to Charlotte’s side. Tall and lanky, Fred was twelve, and had snow-white hair that had not an ounce of curl and hung to his shoulders.
“Is all well, Charlotte?”
“All is well, Fred,” Charlotte patted the thin shoulder. “Lord Needly will help us find the girls.”
“Good evening, Fred,” Lord Needly said to the boy, who in turn said nothing. “I don’t bite, Fred; in fact, some say I’m quite a nice man.”
“Come, Fred, you can say hello, surely?” Charlotte prompted the boy.
“Hello.” The word was dragged from him reluctantly, and Charlotte knew that, like hers, his distrust ran deep.
“I don’t want your mistress walking through London alone at night again, Fred. Can you make sure that doesn’t happen?”
“Now wait just—”
“Yes, and I told her she shouldn’t,” the boy interrupted. “It’s right dangerous, and she’s already been threatened afore.”
“Has she?” Charlotte felt Lord Needly’s eyes on her. “Tell me about that, Fred.”
“The carriage is here. I have no wish to keep the poor driver, who has already been dragged from his bed, a minute longer than necessary, so make haste, Fred.” Charlotte pushed the boy toward the waiting carriage. She did not want this conversation to continue. Lord Needly beat her to the door, reaching around her and opening it. He then took her arm and helped her in, only releasing it when she was seated.
"Thank you." Charlotte drew her cloak tight around her; even though it was summer, there was still a chill in the air at such an hour.
"I will call as soon as I have news, Miss Radley." He bowed in the open doorway and then the door closed and Charlotte managed to inhale her first deep, steady breath.
“He’s right about that, you know.”
“We’ve talked this over, Fred. I need to get about London and do not have the money for a hackney.”
“In the day you can walk about wiv me, but not at night.”
Fred was going to be a forceful man, Charlotte thought, looking at his set face. He had come to her two years ago, broken and beaten by a nobleman, and he had never left.
“All right, I shall show more caution in the future. Will that appease you?”
“Some,” he said, before running his hand over the soft velvet seats. “So this is how them nobs travel.”
Charlotte watched, finding a smiled as he investigated every inch of the carriage, only stopping as it pulled up at the end of their lane because it was too narrow to drive down.
“Thank you, sir, and my apologies for having to get out of bed to drive me home at such an hour,” she said, looking up at the driver after she and Fred had stepped down.
“Lord Needly pays me to be ready at a moment’s notice, ma’am. ’Tis no bother at all.” He tipped his hat and drove away.
Dear Lord that man had been a force of nature, Charlotte thought, when she finally reached her cold bed. Just being in the same room with him had been unsettling. Big and powerful were words that she had heard connected with his name, and he was both of those things, but so much more also. Charlotte rather thought that she was glad he would want nothing further to do with her after the girls were found, and why would he? She was nothing, a do-gooding woman of base birth. Nothing to nobody but those who needed her most, and for Charlotte that would always be enough. It had to be.
CHAPTER THREE
Marcus watched his carriage carrying Miss Radley and Fred until it had left the street, and then walked slowly back inside. He'd told his driver that no matter the lady's orders, he was to take her home, as she was in no fit state to be anywhere else.
What the hell was that woman's story? In all honestly, he could say he'd never before come across someone quite like her. Young and beautiful, she had made no attempt to flirt or be coy with him. She had been there on a mission, and that was to save her girls. She held herself like any woman of noble birth and spoke in a soft, cultured tone. She’d learned those traits from someone, and Marcus wondered who.
"It's three in the morning, you idiot," he muttered. Of course she had not been there to flirt with him. Yet most women did just that when they encountered Marcus. They smiled, fluttered their eyelashes, and even raised their skirts to show him their ankles. He was a man who liked women, and he was a master of flirtation, but he had never let a woman close—no woman had even made his heart flutter. He had wondered if love was beyond him, yet thought perhaps it was too late to give up on that dream.
Marcus liked to be in control, and love played a part in taking that away, but he’d wondered if it would be worth it, especially after seeing his friend’s capitulation. Nick had married nine months earlier and was now very much in love with his wife, Grace.
His problem was that from a young age he had been the head of his family. Every decision for his family and their estates and fortune had fallen to him. He had gone away to fight for this country, much to the horror of his siblings, and yet in that he had been firm. Like his friends, he’d known his worth and had proved it many times by infiltrating enemy lines.
His mind went back to
Miss Radley. He needed to know more about the woman and to do that, he needed to rouse his friends, especially Nick, who knew most things about most people—he was the bloodhound of the Lords of Night Street. Although, he wasn't sure that his friend would know the exact color of her hair and eyes, and for some reason, that was something he wanted to know.
"Can I be of service to you, my lord?"
"I apologize for keeping you from your bed so late, Chadley, but fear I am going to delay that further. Can you please have food and coffee, lots of coffee, brought to my study as soon as possible?"
"Of course, I shall see to it at once."
Pushing open the door seconds later, Marcus roused his friends, and after much grumbling and curses, they were all sitting around the table.
"I had a visitor," he said, and began to explain what Miss Radley had told him.
"And you said then and there that we would help?” Jacob yawned loudly.
"Yes." Marcus nodded, but said nothing further. They all knew he would not have done so had he not deemed Miss Radley's case a worthy one.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Nick added. "I can see the interest in you. Not that you would have taken the case because of that, but something about this Miss Radley has intrigued you, Marcus."
"Two women were abducted from the streets, Nicholas, and Miss Radley was assaulted, surely that alone is reason enough?" Marcus said.
"Of course it is," Jacob soothed, “but Nick's right, she has fired your interest. We all know each other well enough to see that."
"Miss Radley," Nick then said, rocking back on his chair. “Where do I know that name from?”
They all sat silently waiting while Nick dragged the information from the depths of his mind. "I wonder if she's any relation to the Duke of Marlton.”
“Why would she be?” Marcus said. Nick knew everything and everyone and the connections between each. His mind was a wonderful thing; no matter how inconsequential, everything was filed away and remembered for if and when it was required.