Mistress in the Making (7 page)

Miles from home in wicked London, she’d shed her conventionality as if playing a role on stage. She rather liked it. The key was to ensure Lucas liked it too. She took a step toward him, desiring to smooth her hands down his broad chest or inhale his earthy scent, but a woman’s voice stayed her movements.

“Who’s here?” A curvaceous woman strolled into the room clad in a icy-blue silk robe. Bruised splotches marred her face, but her beauty still shone through.

Lucas bowed deeply, and the woman’s posture softened somewhat. However, she leapt back with a little shriek when he stood and showed his face. Bellamy caught her at the doorway, preventing her escape.

“I left orders. You’re not to come here,” she said with real panic in her voice.

Charlotte quickly understood and stepped in front of Lucas. “He’s not Westhunt.”

At first her words were ignored and Bellamy held the woman gently, but firmly, speaking softly in her ear.

“He’s not the earl. This is his twin, Mr. Morgan. His twin,” Charlotte repeated over and over, hoping her words would sink in soon. Her stomach burned at seeing such distress in another human. What had Westhunt done to inspire such fear?

Between Bellamy’s whispers and Charlotte’s vehement exclamations, the woman calmed down enough to speak.

“His twin? He told me you were dead,” she said.

Lucas walked slowly to the lowest chair in the room and sank down before answering, obviously hoping his lowered height would make him less of a perceived threat.

“He thought wrong. I am clearly alive.”

“Why are you here?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“I’d like you to tell me about my brother,” Lucas said.

Alyce stepped into the room, clinging to Bellamy’s hand as if it were a lifeline. Charlotte smiled encouragingly at her and went to sit next to Lucas to demonstrate he was a man to be trusted with a woman.

“What do you wish to know? He’s
your
brother. I daresay you know much more than I do.” Her low voice was melodic as if she were a trained singer.

“Possibly,” Lucas admitted. “Humor me, and I promise to protect you from him always.”

Alyce stood straighter and released Bellamy, encouraged by Lucas’ words. “Truly?”

Charlotte bit her lip then released it quickly. How easily Lucas promised to protect Alyce, when she’d had to plot and conspire to gain any sort of commitment from him.

“How did you meet Sebastian?” Lucas prompted.

“He sought me out here. He wanted a particular type of woman, one who wouldn’t mind a little tie-me-up every now and again. As you can see, this particular establishment caters to those desires.”

Charlotte glanced at Lucas to see if he understood what Alyce meant, but he was nodding and murmuring encouraging sounds for her to continue.

“I volunteered, seeing as he’s an earl and I like myself a little spanking now and again.” Alyce turned to Bellamy with a wink and small smile.

To Charlotte’s shock, Bellamy didn’t flush but winked right back at Miss Brown.

“It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made,” Alyce continued. “At first it was all right. He’s a handsome man with a nice-size piece in his trousers.” She grinned at Charlotte. “You’d know about that, wouldn’t you luv? Seems you got the decent brother, lucky you.”

Charlotte grinned back and put her hand proprietarily on Lucas’ thigh. Pink flags colored his cheeks at the frank discussion of his male parts. He cleared his throat. “How long before my brother started hurting you?”

Alyce lost her smile and shuddered. “A month, maybe less. It started small. I didn’t even notice at first. He tied my ropes a bit too tightly, or smacked my arse a little harder than was pleasurable.”

Charlotte shifted on the bench, astounded and intrigued by Alyce’s description of bedroom activities she’d never heard of. Madame Bella had alluded to it, but not bothered to teach Charlotte since she was the first to go on the auction block and they’d run out of time. What would it be like to be tied up, helpless to Lucas’ demands?

“The real beatings didn’t start until a few weeks ago.”

“Do you think something triggered them? Had he lost at cards?” Bellamy asked.

“My brother never needed an excuse to prey on the weak,” Lucas said. “How long were you with my brother? Were you with him last winter?”

Alyce shook her head. “We met just after your eldest brother’s death. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Did he ever talk about our brother?”

Alyce frowned in concentration. “Not often. Sometimes he bragged about being the strongest of the Morgan brothers, the only living one.”

“Did he ever talk about being an earl? Did he seem overly fond of the title?” Charlotte asked and felt Lucas’ approval at her question.

“Oh yes,” Alyce said. “He often complained of the responsibilities of being earl, but in that way that’s not really complaining at all. More like boasting. And he never let me call him Sebastian. He was always Westhunt.” Suddenly, she frowned at them. “Why are you asking all these questions? Did Westhunt do something? Besides nearly kill me, that is.”

Lucas stood. “I have cause to believe Sebastian murdered my eldest brother to gain the title.”

“I’d believe it.” Alyce laughed bitterly.

“Can you think of anything at all that he said or did that would give us a clue?”

Alyce chewed her lip then winced at the pain from moving her bruise-covered face. “Nothing I can think of at the moment, but perhaps something will come to me.”

Lucas extended a hand to Charlotte. “Send word if you remember anything. I’ll come immediately.”

“Oh, no need for you to bother, sir. This gentleman here will do nicely.” She nodded and spoke to Bellamy with a wicked smile. “I’m sorry you had to see me in such dishabille. Next time I’ll be sure to look my best.”

To Charlotte’s astonishment, Bellamy bowed at the waist and brushed his fingers along Alyce’s neck when he stood. “I look forward to it,” he said in a low voice.

They were inches from the front door when Alyce called to Lucas. “You may want to try Georgina. She was Westhunt’s mistress before me. She may know something.”

Lucas turned. “And where might we find this Georgina?”

Alyce laughed. “I’m a bit out of the gossip seeing as I’ve been injured, but visit some of the molly houses. You’ll find word of her there. Everyone knows Georgie.”

* * * * *

Charlotte squeezed in next to Lucas on the carriage seat facing Bellamy, who stared out the glass back at the brothel with an inscrutable look.

“What
was
that place?” she asked.

Lucas’ fingers tightened on his knees. “I thought Madame Bella trained you?”

“Yes, but she never spoke of spankings and ropes. Nor did she show us furniture such as that.”

She shivered when Lucas’ lips brushed her ear as he whispered to her. “Shall we conduct a demonstration later? I wouldn’t want my mistress claiming ignorance on any topic on the sexual arts.”

“Lucas,” she chided, glancing over at Bellamy who now watched them with a small smile. “We’re not alone.”

“Bellamy doesn’t mind,” he said, grinning at his friend. “He’s counting the seconds until Alyce Brown invites him back.”

Charlotte didn’t know how to respond. Despite her months under Madame Bella’s tutelage, she still thought of sexual relations as between a man and his wife or his mistress. The idea that the rest of the world played little games of pleasure too was intriguing. To cover her discomfort, she focused on the investigation.

“Who do you suppose is this Georgina? Have either of you heard of her or her friend, Molly?”

Bellamy released a sudden sneeze which turned into a cough. With bent shoulders, he buried his face in his hands.

Alarmed, Charlotte leaned forward to pat his back. “Lucas, your friend is choking. Do something.”

Lucas propped a booted foot next to Bellamy and rolled his eyes. “He’s laughing at your ignorance.”

“What? I’m not ignorant,” she protested. She pushed at Lucas’ leg, which crowded her against the edge of the carriage.

“Not ignorant? Charlotte, Molly is not a person. Molly is a term for a man who likes other men.”

“What’s wrong with that? You and Bellamy appear to be very fond of each other.”

Even louder snorts emerged from Bellamy who could barely maintain his seat and the carriage shook from his laughter.

Lucas maintained a sober smile, though the creases around his eyes increased. “Bellamy and I
are
great friends, but we are not, nor ever have been, lovers.”

“Lovers?” She felt as if her gut had taken a punch. “How could you be lovers? You’re both…you both have…male parts.” Her cheeks were on fire.

“You’ll see tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“If Bell can contain his laughter, my innocent mistress, we’ll go hunting for Georgina and Molly tonight.” He leaned forward to punch Bellamy on the upper arm as she’d seen brothers do. “Contain yourself, Bellamy.”

Bell sat up and took a restraining breath. “Sorry, Lucas, Charlotte. It’s unexpected to hear such innocent questions from a woman dressed like you.”

“I like it,” Lucas said, reaching for her hand and stroking her palm through her glove. “I’d have no taste for a jaded woman.”

“I promise to stay unjaded for you then,” she said, smiling up at him, encouraged by the morning’s progress. Lucas was letting her in. He’d included her in tonight’s investigation and said nothing more of her leaving. When they arrived back home, she’d show her gratitude in the way she was coming to love. Then she’d compose a letter to her sisters and tell them to prepare Elizabeth for her Season.

* * * * *

“You’re sure this is appropriate?” Charlotte whispered one more time as they left their coats with a dour-looking butler.

“Yes. Stop tugging.” Lucas gave her hand a little slap and she stopped pulling at the cravat and lowered her arms, trying to walk as Lucas and Bellamy did with ease.

“As I explained earlier, men bring their lovers here to play games. Women dress as boys and men dress as women.”

Charlotte scowled, feeling as though her bum was exposed in the tight breeches. “I don’t understand the appeal.”

Lucas paused and looked over at Charlotte’s rear. “Oh, I don’t know. From my viewpoint, it has its charm.”

“Mine too,” breathed Bellamy as he stepped into the main room where couples sat at small tables dealing cards. “I’ll look for Georgina.” He strode ahead, leaving Charlotte wondering what was so special about this particular club. It didn’t look all that different from her imaginations of a ton men’s club.

“Westhunt! Join us,” a man called from the couch, surrounded by two women in colorful gowns that made the one hanging in her closet look modest. If they were allowed to wear feminine attire, why had Lucas pulled her into breeches and wrapped a snowy cravat around her neck?

Lucas changed directions, guiding Charlotte toward the threesome. “Baron Whiting, dear friend of my brother,” he said under his breath.

She nodded, not sure to adopt her new flirtatious smile or play the role of a young boy. She opted for the smile, but found it hard to maintain as they came closer to the table. The sharp bite of whiskey and stale cigars surrounded Baron Whiting and his woman in a cloudy haze. Charlotte nodded to them through teary eyes and the burning need to cough.

Whiting started to stand but fell back into the arms of the laughing women. “Sebastian,” he slurred. “Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight. Heard you were sulking over last night’s loss.” He guffawed and nuzzled at the bodice of one woman’s gown.

“You’re not seeing Sebastian,” Lucas said coldly.

“Huh?” Whiting stopped his love play long enough to look at them blearily. “Morgan? Lucas? The rumors are true then? You’re alive.”

“I am indeed.” Lucas took Charlotte’s hand and strolled to the wide chair facing Whiting. He sat first and pulled her down to sprawl on his lap.

Whiting shook off his drunken stupor like a dog shaking off water from a swim in the lake and sat forward, leaning his forearms on his thighs. “I’m glad to see you among the living. I never did like the way Sebastian believed the rumors of your ship sinking so easily.”

Lucas played with Charlotte’s hand, seeming to not hear Whiting’s comment. Despite the highness of her cravat, goose bumps dotted the back of her neck. She wiggled her rear a little, leaning back against his wide chest.

“From what I’ve heard since my return, my twin seems to give up rather easily on all his brothers.” His tone was light, but from her position, she could feel the tension radiating from him.

Whiting reached for his low, crystal glass and handed it to the woman on his left. When she stood to find a refill, Charlotte’s eyes widened. She was as tall as Lucas and nearly as broad.

Whiting’s gaze followed Charlotte’s and he chuckled. “You’re admiring my companion?”

She nodded, not knowing how else to react.

“Look out, Lucas. Your lover has an eye for the devil. But seeing how you were trained at the hand of Madame Bella, I’m not surprised.” Whiting narrowed his eyes at her. “You are the chit Lucas won for an outstanding amount last evening, are you not?”