Lord Valiant (Lords Of Night Street Book 2)

by Wendy Vella

  “Chadley will be pleased.”

  “He’ll cope,” Marcus said, watching Charlotte’s eyes flutter open at Leo’s words.

  “Well, you certainly have the room in that bloody great house you rattle about in,” Leo said.

  Her eyes were now moving between him and Leo.

  “Where are we going, Lord Needly?”

  “To my house.”

  “We cannot stay there!”

  “For tonight you can.”

  “But your staff—”

  “Will finally have something to do for the handsome wages I pay them.”

  She lifted a hand to push hair from her face, and Marcus saw they were bleeding. Taking them in his, he studied the damaged skin.

  “Was this from the sheet?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m sorry you were hurt, Charlotte.”

  Her smile wobbled, but she managed one.

  When the carriage pulled up outside his house, Marcus stepped down first, then helped her to alight. Fred and Dandy followed. Leo stayed seated.

  “As I can be of no further assistance to you this evening, I shall see you in the morning. It has been quite an evening, even for us,” he added, shaking the hand Marcus held out to him.

  “It has that,” Marcus said, before shutting the door and nodding to the driver to take Leo home. He then moved everyone into his house.

  “My lord, how may I be of assistance to you?” Chadley appeared from the depths of the house.

  “Chadley, there has been a fire and Miss Radley, Fred, and Dandy will be staying with us for the night,” he said, pointing to each. “They will require beds; food and drink also.”

  His butler didn’t flinch as he recognized Charlotte. “At once, Lord Needly.”

  “My staff will see you all to your beds,” he said as footmen and maids began to appear.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for this,” she said. “This is a great inconvenience, and I should not allow it, yet do not have the strength to move another step tonight.”

  Marcus watched as she smothered another yawn. She looked so small and vulnerable standing there in that dark green dressing gown, with her hair a tangled mess and one foot bare.

  “I shall see you in the morning,” Marcus said, when what he wanted to do was hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. For that reason alone he forced himself to walk away from her. Miss Charlotte Radley was a danger to him in many ways, and he could not afford that weakness, not now, not ever.

  Marcus sat in his office and drank brandy, staring at the toes of his boots, which he had propped on his desk. When he was sure his houseguests were settled for the night, he would find his bed, but not before. He had no wish to see Charlotte again so soon.

  Tomorrow he would meet with his friends at Night Street, and they would discuss what had transpired this evening. They would dig deeper into who was selling young women as sex slaves, and he would discuss the Duke of Marlton and the possibility that he could be behind Charlotte’s abduction and tonight’s fire. In that at least, he could help her. No woman deserved to live in constant fear, and when Marcus walked away from her, he wanted to do so knowing she would be safe to live her life as she chose.

  “Dear God, I pray she chooses a less perilous lifestyle,” he said, regaining his feet and heading for his bed. “Are all our guests settled, Chadley?” His butler was waiting for him.

  “We have a slight problem, I’m afraid. I had the terrace room prepared on the third floor for Miss Radley. However, she has insisted on sleeping in the servants’ quarters, but there is no bed available. Therefore, she has decided to sleep on the floor in the maids’ room.”

  And just like that, his hard-won calm had gone. Marcus stalked to the servants’ stairs and climbed until he’d reached their floor. Stomping down the hall, he located the maids’ quarters simply by following Charlotte’s voice.

  “No, really, I shall be just fine on the floor, Miss Hopkins.”

  Reaching the door, he knocked.

  “Lord Needly!”

  “Pardon the intrusion,” he said to the wide-eyed maid who opened it. Entering the room, he nodded to the three other women and then glared at the one on the floor. “I shall not disturb you for long.” Walking to where Charlotte lay in a nest of blankets, he bent at the knees, picked her up, and then left the room.

  “Put me down, I was to sleep there!” she said as he headed for the stairs and started to climb.

  “God’s blood, woman, you test my patience,” Marcus snarled.

  “I don’t see why.”

  She was close enough so that all he’d have to do was turn his head and he could kiss her, so he kept his eyes forward.

  “You are not going to sleep on the floor in my servants’ rooms when there are plenty of warm, soft beds in the rest of the house.”

  “But I should sleep in the servants’ quarters,” she insisted. “It is the right thing to do.”

  Reaching her room, he juggled her about in his arms until he could twist the door handle, and walked inside. A fire burned, a bath had been drawn, and a tray of food awaited her.

  “Why,” he said, lowering her down his body and biting back a groan as he felt her soft unbound curves beneath, “should you sleep in the servants’ quarters?”

  She bit her lip as she thought about that. “I am a baseborn woman who has a house that takes in prostitutes. My life is spent among those who do not frequent your world. I am not the kind of woman who should sleep in such a room.” She looked around her at the soft cream walls and deep burgundy bedcovers and curtains.

  “You are worth more than any woman I know.” Marcus gave up the fight then and touched her. Slipping his fingers beneath her hair, his hand circled her neck. “You are every inch a lady of integrity and honor, and so beautiful you make me ache to kiss you.”

  “Oh… I don’t know how to respond to that, my lord,” she said, moving in to his body.

  “Marcus,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to hear my name on your lips.”

  “Marcus,” she sighed, and he was lost. He wanted this woman so much his body shook with need.

  “I-I smell of smoke.”

  “I don’t care.” He moved his lips down her neck, licking the path as he went, smiling as the breath hitched in her throat. “I want you, Charlotte, very much.”

  Marcus lifted his head to look at her, waiting for her to make the next move.

  “Are you sure, Marcus?”

  “I am, are you?”

  “Yes, oh, yes.”

  Their lips met again, his taking, teasing, as his hand moved over her body.

  “I want to see you, Charlotte. Will you show me what I long for?”

  She nodded, then took a step backward. Her fingers trembled as she removed her dressing gown, then fumbled with the buttons of her nightdress.

  “Let me.” Marcus undid each one slowly, and reached for the hem. He pulled it up and off her body. His heart slammed into his chest at the beauty he had uncovered.

  Her skin was pale, and her breasts full and high, the nipples like ripe berries. He traced his fingers over the curve of one shoulder, and her skin felt like silk, soft and smooth. He memorized each curve and swell. Her limbs were long and slender, and her feet narrow and delicate, and he wanted to kiss every inch.

  “You are so beautiful, words fail me,” Marcus rasped, sliding his fingers down her arm until he reached her breast. Brushing them over the tip of a taut nipple, she bit back a moan. He pulled her hair free of the braid, separating it with his fingers, and then pushed it behind her shoulders.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  He kissed her softly. “There are no rules, Charlotte. Do what feels right to you,” Marcus said, running his hands over her body, igniting them both. His fingers were gentle, and she closed her eyes as he touched the soft planes of her stomach. Leaning closer he kissed the moan from her lips, sinking into her mouth as her body brushed his.

  His kis
sed her as his hands explored, mapping her thighs, touching the soft hair between and skimming the damp folds that held her secrets. Her hands traced his chest to curl around his neck, closing the small gap between their bodies. Blood pounded through his head as he lost reason and was driven only by need.

  It was hot and sensual, and his body was a furnace as he skimmed his fingers over each vertebra before caressing the soft swells of her buttocks.

  “I want to feel you also, Marcus.”

  He released her briefly to shed his clothes, before pulling her back into his arms, flesh to naked flesh. God, she was heaven in a lush bundle.

  Kissing his way down her chest, he reached her breasts and licked a taut nipple, enjoying the soft sigh she gave. Sucking it into his mouth, he swirled it around his tongue.

  “Dear Lord.”

  He smiled against her warm flesh and moved to the other breast, where he continued the sweet torment until she was writhing and begging for more. Walking her backward, he lowered her to the bed and bent to kiss her stomach.

  “Marcus?”

  “Let me make love to all of you, Charlotte.” Her nod had him placing a hot open-mouthed kiss on her stomach before he parted her thighs and moved lower.

  Her hands clenched in his hair as he licked the damp folds and then delved deep inside. He stroked the tight bud and continued to torment until she arched off the bed as she found her release.

  “I have… I did not know I could feel like that.” She looked dazed as he climbed over her body to brace his hands on either side of her head.

  “There is more,” he whispered against her lips. Moving into the cradle of her thighs he pushed slowly into her tight, wet sheath. He murmured words as she felt pain, then broke through the barrier with a groan. The bliss of being inside Charlotte was unbelievable.

  Holding still, he looked down at her. “Charlotte, do you feel pain?”

  “Please.” She touched his jaw, her gray eyes urging him on. “Don’t stop.”

  “Never,” he rasped, easing in and out again and again, until he felt the pressure build to an unbearable height inside him. The climax swept them together, each calling out in wonder as it rolled over them in waves of ecstasy.

  Breathless, Marcus lay beside her on the pillow.

  “Are you all right, Charlotte?” He slipped his arm beneath her until she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Tomorrow, Marcus decided, was soon enough to work out what he was to do now that he had taken the innocence of Miss Charlotte Radley. It had been so much more than anything he had ever thought it could be, and he would have to work out just what that meant for them both now.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Marcus woke early in his bed. He had risen during the night and left Charlotte to return to his room, not wanting her embarrassed by a servant finding them in the morning.

  Well, that was what he told himself. If he was honest, the real reason he left her bed was because he was disturbed at how much last night had made him feel.

  Washing, he dressed and left the room. Stepping out into the crisp London morning, he made for the stables and saddled his horse. The streets were busy with carts and people, but Marcus was lost in his thoughts.

  He’d made love to Charlotte last night, and Marcus had a bad feeling once, even twice, would never be enough with that woman. She had been a mix of sensual innocence in his arms. Her body had responded to him with such passionate honesty it had humbled him.

  “Get yourself together, man,” he told himself.

  Her mind intrigued him, her body tormented him, and her wit made him laugh. Lord, he was in trouble.

  “What am I to do with you, Miss Radley?”

  Turning into Night Street, he watched Leo pull out his key and enter the building they used for their investigative services. Doing the same minutes later, he nodded to Perkins, who was already at his desk, then descended to the basement, where he smelled coffee.

  “Leo’s just been filling us in on what happened last night,” Nick said around a yawn.

  “Sit, have coffee,” Jacob said, pouring black liquid from a pot into a cup, then handing it to Marcus. “You must be as exhausted as he is.”

  “I slept well, if only briefly,” Marcus said, pushing aside visions of a naked Charlotte resting in his arms. Having her wrapped around him had given him the first restful sleep he’d had in years.

  Nick whistled softly. “I bet Chadley’s stupefied at the invasion of his household.”

  “He’s rallying.”

  “And what of this fire? Was it an accident?”

  “No, Jacob, it was no accident. Dandy, one of the houseguests, heard the door being broken down. By the time he’d reached the entrance, it was on fire.”

  “So whoever did it wanted to make sure their escape route was closed off,” Nick said, looking disgusted. “Was it only Miss Radley they were after, do you think, Marcus?”

  “The day I went to see Charlotte, one of the women who was in her house told me someone tried to abduct her a few weeks ago, but the boy Fred fought them off. Charlotte, when I questioned her, said the man who had grabbed her looked like her father’s steward, but couldn’t be certain as he wore a scarf tied around the lower half of his face.”

  “Is there a tie between this and girls being taken?” Leo said slowly. “And if there is, I can’t see it other than the fact that the missing girls know Miss Radley, and that there are people who are not happy with what she has been doing.”

  “The man Leo and I questioned said the girls are being auctioned at a brothel here in London.” Marcus saw the disgust on his friends’ faces as he spoke. “I can’t see how that ties in with Charlotte, other than the fact that her father has regular involvement in brothels. If it was he who tried to have her taken, then that would be a good way to get rid of her and extract some revenge at the same time.” Marcus unclenched his fingers from around the cup before he broke it.

  “That seems extreme,” Nick said. “Furthermore, why is the Duke suddenly interested in his daughter when she left him years ago?”

  “I wonder if on one of his visits to a brothel, Miss Radley’s name was brought to the Duke’s attention, and suddenly he was faced by the bastard daughter who thwarted him and escaped,” Jacob said. “Maybe he has finally found her and wants her punished for breaking her betrothal with Squire Lorne.”

  “By God, yes!” Nick said. “The Duke has a penchant for prostitutes that is well known among his peers. This could be the tie.”

  “It’s a possibility,” Marcus said, looking around his friends. “But first we need to find out if it is he who wants her hurt.”

  “But why take the girls?”

  “It could simply be that the Duke of Marlton attended one of these auctions and decided on this fate for his daughter. Then he would punish her further by abducting prostitutes she knows.” Marcus could hear the anger in his voice as he answered Leo’s question. “We need to find out for certain before Charlotte is hurt any further.”

  “It all seems a bit of an elaborate plan, considering what could go wrong,” Jacob said. “I mean, the Duke could just have her shot, or run down by a carriage. Why go to so much trouble?”

  “No one is shooting Charlotte!” Marcus roared.

  “When did she become Charlotte?” Leo raised an eyebrow. “Furthermore, you seem very protective of the woman.”

  Marcus withstood the looks thrown his way. “She is the baseborn child of a duke, who protects prostitutes. Hardly my type of woman, wouldn’t you say?” he lied. He had no wish for his friends to push this point.

  “Didn’t we once make a pact that those things didn’t matter if the right woman came along?”

  Marcus looked at Leo as he spoke. He face was calm but his eyes serious. Nick and Jacob had matching expressions. “We were young boys, so that no longer applies, nor can it. I am a viscount. I cannot marry a bastard.”

  “Noblemen have married the baseborn daughters o
f noblemen before,” Leo said.

  Marcus couldn’t breathe. Suddenly his throat felt tight as he intercepted the looks from his friends. “Why are you speaking like this, Leo, when you are the first to say that marriage is for fools?”

  “Thanks very much,” Nick drawled.

  “I wasn’t talking about me, as my heart is a small, shriveled organ that has no chance of ever softening enough to fall in love. However, you, Marcus, are another matter entirely. You need a strong woman, and I was just pointing out that should you have an interest in one, then we would support you in that interest.”

  Marcus battled the panic he felt at Leo’s words. He did not care for Charlotte Radley, nor would he ever. “I have no idea why we are having this discussion when I care nothing for Charlotte Radley, other than concern for her welfare.”

  “Of course. I was just pointing out that a woman cannot help her birth, and that it need not be an obstacle to love.”

  “Of course it’s a bloody obstacle,” Marcus said, far too quickly. “None of us can marry beneath us, and you very well know that. Now enough of this talk, we need to work out our next steps.”

  A heavy silence settled over the room until Jacob broke it.

  “I was wondering where Miss Radley and her two companions will go now that their house has burned to the ground and she has nothing to her name? Because obviously she cannot stay with you, Marcus.”

  He’d thought about that too, and had a solution that would put Charlotte out of his reach, which was surely a good thing, he told himself.

  “Do you remember that house the Earl of Reardon gave us for finding his daughter before she could wed that idiot Luther?” Marcus said, relieved they had changed the subject. “It’s an hour’s drive from London and is empty, so would suit her needs for now.”

  “Yes, that’s a perfect idea,” Nick said. “I shall get Grace on to some clothing for her and her companions.”

  Marcus wanted to say that he would buy her clothes, but kept the thought in his head.

  “However, I doubt she will take the offer of it from me, therefore perhaps you have an idea of how I can get her to accept, without her knowing that I am involved in the transaction?”