by Wendy Vella
“Sit, Marcus, we shall work out what is the best action to take.”
“I don’t want to sit, Leo. Don’t you understand, I want to find her!”
“As do we all,” Jacob soothed.
Dear Lord, he loved her. Marcus stopped suddenly, then stumbled to a seat as the news hit him hard. “Dear Christ,” he rasped.
“You’ve remembered something?” Jacob said, watching him.
“I don’t think it’s his memory that’s returning, I think it’s something far more painful that he has become aware of,” Nick said slowly.
“What?”
“He’s in love you idiot,” Leo said.
“We have to find her.” The words felt as if someone had ripped them from Marcus’s chest; suddenly, he was struggling to breathe, the pain so intense.
“I believe that’s two down,” Nick said softly. “Two to go,” he added, looking at Leo and Jacob, who both raised their hands.
“The Duke,” Marcus said, trying to think. “We discussed his involvement in what has happened to Charlotte, and how she believed it was her father’s steward that attempted to grab her that day. He must be involved in this.”
“I’ve been giving the idea that her name has been brought to his attention some thought,” Nick said. “The Duke is of the old guard, cannot stand any change, and believes those he sees as being of inferior birth should never rise above their station. He may have heard of Miss Radley’s house, and not wanting to suffer the embarrassment of that connection ever raising its head, he decided to take steps to have her removed.”
“All the time she was invisible he was happy to leave her, but now,” Leo continued, “someone may have seen her and remembered that he has a daughter… a daughter who ran away after humiliating him by reneging on her betrothal to Squire Lorne.”
“I’ll kill him for that alone,” Marcus snarled.
“We need to question him,” Leo said.
“I’m going to his house now.” Marcus made for the door. “I’ll beat what I need out of him.”
“You are not going alone in that mood,” Jacob said. “You’ll probably end up shooting him and then have to flee to the continent, and that will be no good for you or Charlotte.”
“I have more control that!” His friends all looked doubtful.
“I will come with you,” Nick said. “I know the man, as he was my father’s friend. They are cut from the same cloth. Ill-mannered, arrogant snobs, who believe themselves better than everyone else simply because they were born titled and wealthy.”
“Leo and I will send out word to every informant we have that we need to find Miss Radley and that Marcus will pay handsomely for any information about her.”
“I would give my fortune for her safe return,” Marcus said, before he could stop himself.
“Love does strange things to people,” Leo said, shaking his head.
“I never mentioned love.”
“You didn’t have to.” Leo sighed. “It’s written all over you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Charlotte woke slowly. Her head hurt, and her mouth tasted dry. She realized she was lying on a bed in a room she had never seen before. Mirrors ran the length of one wall; the other had cupboards and hooks, from which hung an assortment of colored clothing and leather straps.
Easing herself upright, she tried to move, but her hands and feet were bound, so she had to roll across the bed and wriggle until she was sitting upright. Taking a couple of deep breaths helped to steady her head.
“Good, you are awake, and just in time as there is much to be done.”
Charlotte watched as a woman appeared through a door in the mirrored wall. Behind her came two men carrying a bath, and several woman carrying towels, clothing, and other items.
“Who are you?”
“It matters not who I am, Miss Radley, only that tonight we will finally see the last of you.”
The woman was tall and wore a black satin dress that was fitted to her slender body. Her hair was black and swept high and decorated with red silk roses.
“What have I done to you?”
“Several girls have left my establishment due to your interference, and there are plenty of other brothel owners who are equally as annoyed with your little house.”
“Everyone has the right to choose how they live their life,” Charlotte said outraged, as the woman drew closer.
“No, Miss Radley, they don’t. They’re born into poverty, and this is how they can rise out of it.” The woman’s eyes narrowed. “There is no other option, and people like you need to understand that. Prostitution serves a purpose.”
“It serves a purpose when the woman goes willingly into that occupation, but not when it is forced upon them.”
“Wives do not like to be subjected to the more carnal natures of their husbands. Therefore we brothel owners are doing our duty in offering them an alternative, so that all parties to the marriage are kept happy.” The woman waved the men from the room.
“You don’t seriously believe that,” Charlotte said, pulling on her bonds in the hopes that one would break and she could slap the woman for her ignorance.
“Oh, but I do, Miss Radley, and tonight you will find out just how far a man wants to go when faced with a pretty woman he can control.”
“Like you did?” It was a guess, but Charlotte realized she’d been accurate as the woman’s smile faltered before re-forming.
“Yes, like me, Miss Radley. Interfering do-gooders like you appear every so often feeling they need to reform people, but unlike others, you don’t appear to be going away. Therefore, when I was alerted to the fact that your dear father, who just happens to frequent my brothel regularly, wanted his embarrassment of a bastard daughter removed from London permanently, I agreed to take care of the matter—after a small monetary inducement was suggested.”
Charlotte put her head to one side as she studied the woman. She would not show fear, fear made her weak, and she would never allow this woman to see how scared she was.
“Oh, now I see the connection,” she said calmly. “You and my father are indeed kindred spirits, madam. The lowest form of life that can survive in this wonderful city we call home.”
The woman’s smile slipped. “I do what I must to survive.”
“No, madam, selling young girls is not a must, it is depraved, and your motivation is greed and exploitation, so please do not fool yourself into believing otherwise.”
The hand that slapped her jerked her head sideways, but Charlotte righted it and even managed to smile as she studied the woman once again.
“No amount of money will ever erase the shame and stench from you, madam, and it’s my hope that when you arrive in hell, your stay is an extremely long one.”
“You will not be so talkative, Miss Radley, when I put you up for sale in a few hours time.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Charlotte’s heart thudded hard in her chest.
“Why, tonight I will sell you to the highest bidder, my dear. I have great hopes that a lady of your birth, who is still innocent, will fetch my highest price so far.”
“Are you behind those missing girls?”
“Indeed I am, and, until your interference, everything was going very well indeed.”
“You are selling women!” Charlotte was horrified. “How dare you do that to your own kind!”
A hand shot out and grabbed her neck; the long fingers squeezed hard. “Oh, I dare, Miss Radley, believe me. And tonight you will add handsomely to my purse, and I will hand you over to your new master readily.”
Just when she felt her head swim as she struggled to draw air into her lungs, the hand eased and Charlotte took a breath.
“Now we must get you ready, as the men will be arriving soon.”
She tried to fight the woman, but others held her and in minutes, they had torn her clothes from her body and forced her into the bath, where they washed her body thoroughly. Her hands were still bound, but her feet had been rele
ased.
“You will not get away with this!” Charlotte cried, falling back on the strength of her anger at the indignities she was suffering.
“But who will stop me?”
“They will come,” was all Charlotte said, wondering who she meant. No one knew where she was, and while Marcus would wonder where she had gone, would he even care enough to look for her? Fred and Dandy would worry, and she would put her hopes in them being concerned enough to get help.
“They?” The woman laughed. “Who are they, and why do you think they care where you have gone, Miss Radley? In fact, I doubt anyone is even looking for you.”
Charlotte couldn’t believe that, wouldn’t believe that.
“Dunk her under the water again. I want that hair smelling as sweet as the rest of her.”
Charlotte spluttered as hands pushed her head under the water. She came up spitting mad, and the only way she could retaliate was to kick out, splashing water everywhere. She didn’t achieve much but found a small amount of pleasure in the fact she had covered the woman’s dress and face.
“Bitch!” The woman reached for her.
“Don’t mark the goods, Cécile.”
Charlotte watched a man walk into the room. He was tall like the woman, and she recognized him instantly.
“Mr. Hollander?” she whispered, trying to cover her body. This man had been her father’s steward for years. He had whispered foul and lewd words to her as he often meted out the punishment the Duke had ordered. “What are you doing here?”
“I own this place along with my sister,” he said, stopping to look down at her. “You have grown into a beautiful young lady, Charlotte. I may even bid for you myself.”
Charlotte scrambled out of the bath and into the drying cloth another woman held out for her. Clutching it with her bound hands, she glared at him.
“I-I don’t understand.”
“It’s quite simple, my dear. Your father heard of your endeavors to help prostitutes and decided that he could no longer suffer the embarrassment of having his name linked to yours. He charged me with making you disappear. My first attempt failed, but I think the second one holds more promise, don’t you, Cécile?”
“Much more, brother.” The woman’s smile was evil.
“You are both disgraceful,” Charlotte said, which made them laugh. “You will not get away with this. The Lords of Night Street are already investigating the abduction of those girls, and they will find you and see that you are both brought to justice.”
She watched Mr. Hollander frown. “Yes, that was not well done of you, Charlotte, but my sister and I have decided that you will be the last girl we sell until things settle down once again. After all, the Lords of Night Street are reputed to be noblemen, and they will soon become bored when the trail goes cold.”
“They will not give up, just as they did not give up until those girls were found.”
“We lost a tidy sum last night.” Cécile glared at her. “But we should collect that and more for you, a pretty virgin.”
Mr. Hollander laughed. “Tonight, my dear Miss Radley, both your body and soul will be broken, and I wish I could be there to witness the act.”
She felt ill at the prospect of what awaited her in the hands of the man who paid the highest price. Charlotte could not allow that to happen; she had to escape somehow.
“It’s my experience,” she said, with a calm she was not feeling, “that inevitably, vile, perfidious people meet the worst end.”
“You always had spirit,” Mr. Hollander said, grabbing the cloth in Charlotte’s hands and ripping it away. “But even you will be broken, my dear, mark my words.”
She did not flinch as he ran his eyes greedily over her body.
“I will enjoy watching you both hang,” she hissed.
“We will not hang, my dear, because we provide a service to the city of London. Most of our regular customers are made up of the most powerful people in the United Kingdom.”
Charlotte knew Mr. Hollander spoke the truth because many of the prostitutes she had come in contact with had told her the nobility made up their biggest clientele.
“We may need to give her something to calm her, or they’ll have a difficult time auctioning her,” Cecile said to her brother, as they both continued to study her.
“Do it,” Mr. Hollander said, “and then dress her like the whore she is about to become.”
Charlotte tried to run for the door, but they caught her and carried her back to the bed, where they bound her feet once more and then her mouth was forced open and something vile poured into it.
“You’ll feel calmer now, sweet Charlotte.”
She gave Mr. Hollander a last pleading look as her thoughts grew hazy and her limbs began to feel heavy. Seconds later her eyes closed.
…
“Tell the Duke of Marlton that Lords Needly and Attwood are here to see him.”
Marcus wanted to storm into the house and demand answers, but Nick said all that would get them was thrown out.
Charlotte had been gone for hours and the urgency inside him was growing with each minute that passed. He needed to find her, needed to tell her he loved her and that he was a fool. She had to stay safe until Marcus reached her. She was out there somewhere. Possibly injured, or being subjected to God knew what, and he had no idea where. Never had he felt so helpless. His thoughts crossed between anger and despair constantly.
“He is not home to visitors this evening, my lords.”
“Tell him the matter is urgent and it would be in his best interests to speak with us,” Nick said.
They waited in the hallway, cooling their heels on the green-and-white tiled floor.
“I need to be out there looking, Nick.”
“I know you do, Marcus, but where would you start? If the Duke can give us a lead, then we will find Charlotte a great deal faster than we could running around London with no direction. Let our people do their work, and by morning we will have her, I’m sure.”
“I cannot wait until morning. I fear for my sanity and Charlotte’s safety if she is not found before then.”
“We will find her, Marcus. You must have faith in what we are and do best.”
Marcus threw back his head and looked at the ceiling. “Is this how you felt when Grace was taken?”
His friend studied him. “As if you have a fire burning a hole in your chest, and every muscle in your body is clenched so tight you fear you may shatter at any moment?”
Marcus snorted. “God help me, yes.”
“Then yes, that is exactly how I felt when Grace was kidnapped.”
“His Grace will see you now.”
They followed the butler through the house, and Marcus remembered Charlotte telling him she had never been to London, never met any of the duke’s friends here.
“He never brought her here.”
Nick knew what he meant. “Does that surprise you, knowing what we do of the man? I’m only surprised that he acknowledged her and kept her in his house.”
“Because he knew one day she would be useful to him,” Marcus growled.
“Very likely.”
“If I find out he is behind her disappearance, I’ll kill him.”
“No, you will not,” Nick said out the side of his mouth, just before they were shown into a room.
The duke sat in a chair beside the fire with a decanter at his side and a glass in one hand. Marcus searched for any similarities between the man and the woman he loved, and saw it in the cheekbones and curve of the chin but nothing more. There was no likeness to his beautiful Charlotte in the cruel line of this man’s mouth or angry expression on his face.
“What is so important that you must call on a man when he is seeking a few moments of solitude before leaving for his evening’s social engagements?”
Marcus and Nick had discussed how to deal with the duke, and Nick had said to leave the questioning to him, and Marcus would, but only if he could get the information they needed. If no
t, Marcus would pull the pistol from inside his jacket and use it to extract it.
“It is a matter of some delicacy, your grace,” Nick said.
“Your daughter has been kidnapped and I hold you responsible, your grace,” Marcus said running out of patience.
“What!” the duke roared as he pushed out of his seat. “You dare to question me about that… that traitorous bitch!”
“Marcus.” He heard Nick’s warning but paid it no heed.
“Charlotte is not the traitor, your grace, you are. You betrothed her to a man old enough to be her grandfather and known for the cruel and sadistic things he does to women.”
“She was lucky I even acknowledged her,” the duke scoffed. “She is worthless, and I have had no contact with her since she ran from my home. It was her mother’s blood, weak and tainted. I should have known she would betray me, just like that bitch did in the end. I wiped my hands of her and was glad of it.”
“That’s not true though, is it,” Marcus said, pulling out his pistol.
“Christ, Marcus.” Nick groaned.
“You had your steward attempt to kidnap her not long ago, but she fought him off and rescued herself.”
He saw the start the duke gave. It was only small, but both Marcus and Nick witnessed it.
“Why?” Marcus said, pointing the pistol at the duke.
“I will ruin you for this, Needly!”
“I doubt that,” Nick sighed. “Considering I will lie and say that you pulled your weapon first, and Marcus was only protecting himself.”
“I am a duke!”
“Who is disliked by everyone, yet no one will admit it to your face,” Nick said.
The duke, seeing he was cornered, sank back into the chair.
“What is your interest in my daughter, Needly?”
Marcus sneered. “A bit late for fatherly concern now, don’t you think?”
The man didn’t flinch, but Marcus had not expected him to. “Why do you want her removed from London?” He couldn’t say killed; just thinking of Charlotte not breathing the same air as he made him light-headed.
“Someone brought to my attention that she was cavorting with prostitutes, and I could not allow my name linked to that.”