Madam Charlie

by Sahara Kelly

  “You filth!” She grabbed the nearest thing she could find, which was a heavy brass paperweight.

  She threw it at him with all her strength.

  “You disgusting piece of offal,” she screamed, angry that he’d ducked her missile.

  She seized a lamp from a table. “How dare you treat a woman that way, let alone a patient…”

  “Stop this instant, you stupid woman.” The doctor had pulled up his pants and apparently found his voice at the same time. “This isn’t a patient, she’s a whore. She can’t pay with money, so we agreed on a trade. What’s the matter with you? It’s the same sort of thing you do every day.”

  His lips sneered at her, as his words clunked their ugly sounds into her anger-ridden brain.

  “You vile and inhuman bastard…” Beyond speech, Charlie flung the lamp and leapt at him, fists flying.

  “Get off me, you whore,” roared the doctor, pushing at her with all his strength. And unfortunately, Dr. Ponsonby was a big man.

  Charlie went flying across the room to end up in a heap on the floor, with half her dress hanging off her shoulders and the other half in Dr. Ponsonby’s grasp. The woman on the table sobbed as Charlie tried to pull the remnants of her dress together across her bosom and stagger to her feet while Dr. Ponsonby spat vile words at her.

  And that was the very moment that Jordan Lyndhurst chose to continue his pursuit of Madam Charlie.

  Chapter Six

  As soon as he stepped over the threshold, Jordan’s military senses had gone on the alert. It was too quiet for too long, and the scream and crash that suddenly echoed through the foyer seemed unsurprising.

  Instinctively, Jordan reached for his sword. Of course, he was not carrying it, and ended up with a handful of his own jacket, but his fighting instinct was aroused and he hurried towards the sound of the battle.

  A door was flung open.

  “I’ll see you get what’s coming to you for this, you bitch. I’ll take care of you, don’t be fooled into thinking I won’t. You’ll be lucky to see nightfall.”

  The blustering threats emerged from a rather unkempt looking man, whose raiment announced him to be the good Dr. Ponsonby. “Good”, realized Jordan within seconds, was probably not an adjective applicable to this particular physician.

  “Excuse me, Sir. I must leave. There will be no appointments kept today. Some vermin has found its way into my offices. I must have the place fumigated. Nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take care of this little problem myself.”

  Ponsonby pushed past Jordan and disappeared into another part of the house, followed almost immediately by a manservant who had appeared in the foyer at about the same time as Jordan.

  A moan from behind the door sent a chill down Jordan’s spine and he gritted his teeth as he stepped inside.

  A scene of chaos and shambles greeted him.

  Charlie was there, all in one piece apparently, and Jordan felt the air seep back into his starved lungs.

  She was crooning to a woman who was lying, bloodied, on a long table, and trying to hold bits of her dress together. A bruise was forming on one cheek.

  “Charlie, Madam Charlie,” said Jordan, hurrying towards her. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Charlie turned to Jordan, eyes no longer cool but hot and angry.

  “That…that p-p-pig of a doctor. He hit me. After hurting this girl. He was supposed to help her, heal her, and instead he…he hurt her…shhh, dear, it’ll be all right…”

  Jordan noticed Charlie’s hand start to tremble, and saw the color fade from her face. He’d seen enough battles to know that shock was setting in.

  He caught her as she fell.

  The door crashed wide as Charlie’s maid and Jordan’s coachman rushed into the room.

  “Miss Charlie? Oh my God, Miss Charlie…” squawked the maid.

  “Sir? My Lord?” Jordan’s man looked around with wide eyes, fists still clenched and ready.

  Jordan, who was still struggling with the fact that he was holding a half-naked Charlie in his arms, pulled his errant thoughts together.

  “You, girl, go and see what you can do for that one over there,” he nodded at the young woman who had been so badly beaten. “Joseph, help her. Take that young woman out to Madam Charlie’s carriage and have her taken to the Crescent. They’ll know how best to help her there. Tom is with the horses?”

  Joseph nodded as his gaze took in the bloody back of the young woman. He winced in sympathy for her.

  “Good. Tom will drive me back to Calver House. I’ll take Madam Charlie with me. I don’t like the sound of Ponsonby or his threats. “

  He glanced down at Charlie, and snuggled her against his chest. She was tall, but in his arms she felt like the veriest child. There was little padding on her firm body and in spite of the surroundings, Jordan felt himself hardening.

  Silently stifling a curse, he turned to the maid who was now helping the young victim deal with her injuries.

  “You, there, what’s your name?”

  “I’m Amy, my Lord,” she bobbed a little curtsey.

  “Amy, tell everyone at the Crescent that I am taking Madam Charlie to my place here in London, Calver House, on Farmington Square for her safety. Once she’s recovered from her shock, we’ll decide where to go from there.”

  He strode from the room bearing his burden, leaving two servants gaping at each other.

  “Well, I never,” breathed Amy. “High handed, ain’t he?”

  “That’s the Colonel, for you. Very used to being in command he is. Ain’t never seen him offer to take a woman back to Calver House, though. Usually he’s only too ready to give ‘em the old heave-ho.”

  “Just wait til Madam Charlie wakes up. She’ll give him the old heave-ho.” Amy grinned at Joseph as she turned back to see how she could help the poor woman whose predicament had started this unusual chain of events.

  * * * * *

  Within minutes, Jordan had Charlie settled in his carriage, and was on his way back to Calver House. Why he still had her in his arms was something else again, and a question he was not about to ask himself at this point.

  Her color was returning a little, and even though her hands were cold and clammy, he felt that she was over the worst of it.

  His gaze dropped to her torn dress and for the life of him he couldn’t stop staring at the soft flesh it exposed. He’d pulled it together as much as he could to protect her from unwary eyes, but now they were alone, he allowed himself the pleasure of looking at her pale breasts and the way they swelled together into an appealing cleavage.

  He desperately wanted to run his tongue between them and taste her skin. She’d be slightly salty, but sweet, he imagined, a mix of wanton woman and sweetness.

  His hands shook as he fought his instincts. Instincts that were urging him to ease back the ripped fabric and reveal her nipples. A jolt in the carriage’s motion did it for him, and he drew in his breath as one breast fell free of its torn coverings.

  The roundness entranced him, the color dazzled him and his heart started hammering a pulse that roused his cock to an amazing level of rigidity. Her areola was a deep rose pink, and larger than he would have imagined given her slender body. Her nipple was perfectly round and rested softly atop her flesh, just begging for the touch of his mouth to wake it to urgent hardness. He could almost taste her as his eyes feasted on her and his cock stirred restlessly beneath her.

  She moaned, and the sound brought him out of his sexual haze. With a sigh of regret he covered her, and gathered her against him, letting her scent waft around his nostrils and permeate his mind.

  The carriage slowed and he realized that they’d arrived at Calver House. For the next few hours, at least, she would be where he felt she belonged—by his side.

  Now if he could just persuade her that it would be even better if they tried another position—the one where he was on top.

  * * * * *

  Charlie hurt. From her eyelids to her toes
she was one big ache. She didn’t want to open her eyes in case her eyeballs hurt too, so she snuggled deeper into the soft pillow and lay there, in unusual peace.

  The room she was in was quiet, and the linens smelled wrong, although they were soft against her naked skin. Within moments she’d tensed, realizing that wherever she was, it wasn’t her own room at the Crescent and she wasn’t wearing anything at all.

  Cautiously she raised her eyelids. It was dark, and little glimmers of light led her gaze to a fire flickering nicely across the room. There was a low sofa near the fire, and Matty was resting comfortably with her head back, and a woolly blanket covering her legs.

  Her mouth was open and she was snoring slightly.

  Well, if Matty was here, then wherever “here” was should be acceptable, supposed Charlie. Matty had always known what was best.

  Charlie raised her head with a little groan, and that was enough to wake Matty.

  “Sweeting, you’re awake,” she muttered, tossing back the blanket and hurrying to the side of the bed.

  “Oh Matty, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. You were napping so peacefully over there.” Charlie raised a hand to her head and felt a large bump behind one ear. “Ow. No wonder I have a headache.”

  Her vision swam a little and she sank back onto the pillow. “Where are we, and why am I naked?”

  “Just you lie there like a good girl, Charlie…” The bed moved as Matty bustled around the room then dipped as she eased an ample hip up next to Charlie’s.

  Charlie smelled tea. She smiled. Matty’s remedy for everything was a nice cup of tea. Most often it worked too.

  “Now let me ease you up a bit and you can have a few sips of this nice cup of tea, love,” and Matty slid her arm behind Charlie’s shoulders. “The doctor says you’re going to be fine. You’ve got a few bumps and bruises, but nothing that won’t heal within a few days.”

  Charlie removed her lips from the cup and winced. “Matty, this tea isn’t up to your usual standards.”

  “That’s because there’s a wee bit of medicine in it for you, sweeting. Something to take the worst of the pain away. The Colonel let me use it.”

  Charlie stilled. “Matty, where are we?” she asked again. More firmly this time.

  “Well, see it’s like this, after the Colonel rescued you from that beast Ponsonby, you fainted and he whipped you up into his carriage lickety-split, and brought you back here.”

  “And where is ‘here’?”

  Matty fussed with the cup, not meeting Charlie’s eyes. “Um, well, he brought you to the nearest safe place, dear.”

  “WHERE?” Charlie’s voice was almost a growl.

  “Calver House.”

  “Oh God. Jordan’s London home?”

  Matty frowned. “What oh God? Oh God my foot. The Colonel did the best thing he could for you, young lady. You should be thanking your lucky stars he come by and saved you when he did.”

  Charlie closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Matty, I need to set a few things straight for you. Firstly, Jordan Lyndhurst didn’t rescue me, I rescued myself. Secondly, bringing me to Calver House was not the best thing he could have done under the circumstances. He should have taken me to the Crescent. And thirdly, where’s my nightrail?”

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed as a shaft of pain spread up her side and across her ribs.

  “There now, see what you’ve done. Your ribs are bruised and you’ve probably gone and made them ache, haven’t you.”

  Charlie recognized the signs of outrage, worry and guilt when she heard them. She sighed.

  “Matty, it’s all right. We’ll manage. I’ve never been here before, remember? It’s just annoying that I’m not home where I should be. Who’s looking after things at the Crescent? Who’s taking care of the girls? What happened to that poor thing from the surgery?”

  Matty patted her hand and straightened the coverlet around her patient. “Everything is just fine at the Crescent, and I’m going to bring your clothes over in the morning. Things got a bit rushed today, which is why I haven’t had chance to fetch your nightclothes. It doesn’t matter though, your bruises needed some arnica on them, and so we’d have had to leave it off anyway. I’m taking good care of the place for you and I’ve told the guests that you’re visiting friends away from town for a few days. There’s no gossip, and the girls are fine, just missing you. “ Matty stopped to take a breath, giving Charlie time to catch up with all the news.

  “That young lass, Mary, the one from Ponsonby’s?”

  Charlie wanted to nod but her head felt just too heavy.

  “Well, she’ll most likely have some nasty scars, but she’s healing up real well. Made some friends at the Crescent, she has, and although I don’t think she’s interested in working there, she’s got a real touch with hair and the girls are already on at her to do their hair for the evening. She’s having quite a nice time for herself, and she’ll be just fine in spite of everything…”

  Charlie tried her best to keep her eyelids open, but they drooped in spite of her efforts.

  “Now just you rest, Charlie-love. Everything is going to be just fine.”

  Matty’s voice was soft, and Charlie felt the touch of a gentle hand across her eyebrows. She smiled, remembering how Matty would do that when Charlie was a little girl.

  Perhaps she would do as Matty said. What could it hurt if she was to sleep in Calver House? It wasn’t like she was in Jordan Lyndhurst’s bed or anything. And even though she was naked, it was just for a few hours, anyway, and she was so damn tired…

  Chapter Seven

  Jordan Lyndhurst watched her as she slept in his bed. He’d carried her here without conscious thought, his steps automatically taking him to his own room and his arms laying his precious burden down where he felt she should be—on his pillow.

  He’d watched as she’d started to tremble, and gritted his teeth against the urge to strip off his clothes, climb in next to her and hold her tight against him until the fear passed.

  Instead, he’d terrorized his household and had them flying every which way in search of his own physician, the softest pillow available, firewood to build up the fire in his room, and messengers to be sent to the Crescent.

  The latter had been pretty much unnecessary, as within a very short time of Jordan and Charlie arriving at Calver House, Matty had pounded on the front door and nearly run down his butler in her haste to reach her charge.

  Jordan had found himself fascinated by the blend of devotion, love and respect that Matty showed for Madam Charlie. She treated her first like a little girl and then like a grown woman, and it was clear to Jordan that these two had a long history together.

  He could not help but notice Matty’s scars, but was not allowed to get a glimpse of Charlie’s, as Matty shooed him from the room as soon as she began to tend to her patient, and didn’t allow him back until Charlie was safely tucked under the covers and wrapped as tightly as any babe in swaddling clothes.

  Matty’s attitude had initially been hostile and suspicious.

  “We’ll have her home in next to no time, my Lord.” She’d been quite firm in her pronouncement, and it had taken all of Jordan’s charm and logic to convince her otherwise.

  “Ponsonby is a very real threat, Mistress Matty,” he’d finally argued. It was nothing but the truth, after all. “I can guarantee her protection here at Calver House. Can you say the same for the Crescent? I know you have guards, but there are so many people coming in and out. Would you know if Ponsonby’s man slipped in? Or if someone he’d hired to do harm to Miss Charlie arrived there?”

  Matty had tilted her head and stared at him for so long that he almost felt a blush starting.

  “Ponsonby hit her, you know. He was very violent.” Jordan wondered if this argument would reinforce his offer of protection.

  “Yes. Well, gentlemen do that, don’t they?” Matty’s acid answer had surprised him.

  “No they don’t, Mistress Matty.”

/>   He’d gotten a snort in response to that, and damned if he was going to let her get away with it.

  “Any man who hits a woman is not a gentleman. He may be titled, or rich or whatever, but he’s no gentleman. He’s a boor, a pig, an animal and worse, but he’s not a gentleman. There is no, and I repeat, NO excuse for a man to ever raise his hand to a woman. The one time I caught a member of my brigade doing so I had him flogged. By the woman he abused and several of her friends. In public.”

  Jordan had watched an odd expression cross Matty’s face as he delivered his statement. It had begun as one of relief and then turned into a small smile.

  “Weeeelll…” She’d tugged on her lower lip, obviously considering him and his words.

  He’d smiled and tried to ooze charm and reliability.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t do no harm to keep her here for a day or two. No one must know, mind you…”

  He’d shaken his head firmly.

  “She’s put up with enough gossip as it is, poor thing. It wouldn’t help either of your reputations if it got out that she was staying here.”

  “No one will breathe a word, Mistress Matty. And you may come and go as you please. If you wish to stay with her—”

  “I should, I know,” Matty had answered, sending Jordan’s guts into a massive clench.

  “But other than Charlie, I’m the only one who’s on top of things at the Crescent. And it would cause talk if I disappeared too. No,” she reached a decision. “I’m going to trust you, Colonel Lyndhurst. Keep her safe and let her heal. Then send her home.”

  Jordan had promised.

  Keep her safe.

  Well, he was doing that. Stretched out on the rather lumpy couch under a blanket, he could certainly keep her safe. He’d assigned extra servants to keep an eye on the house and stables, mentioning a rash of recent burglaries in the area. Most of the household knew he’d brought home an injured guest, but few, besides his butler and his valet, knew her identity or even her gender.