Madam Charlie Read online

  Madam Charlie

  Sahara Kelly

  London, 1814:

  A young woman inherits an interesting London house, Number 14 Beaulieu Crescent. Nothing unusual in that, you might say. And ordinarily you'd be right. But this time the "house" is actually a high-class brothel, and the young woman has a secret identity of her own that she must never reveal. Especially not to the man who brings her body to life, stirs her senses like no other, and who has begun his own campaign to unlock the mystery that is "Madam Charlie".

  A Romantica® erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Madam Charlie

  Sahara Kelly

  Prologue

  The Evening Gazette, Fleet Street, London, 1814:

  Authorities reported to the Home Office today that the Investigation into the Fire that claimed the Life of Philip, Earl of Calverton, and his young Bride, was of Accidental Origin. The Dreadful Damage inflicted by the Horrendous Conflagration occasioned the long delay between the Sad Demise of His Lordship and the Final Finding in this Matter.

  The Lord Lieutenant of the County, The Right Honorable Matthew Ffortescue, informed the Secretary that in his Opinion, the Earl and his Bride had been overcome by Terrible Fumes when a Log fell onto a Rug in His Lordship’s Chamber. The Consuming Blaze devoured much of the East Wing of Calverton Chase and left Little for Investigators of this Tragedy.

  The Heir to the Calverton Estate, formerly Colonel Jordan Lyndhurst, now the Seventh Earl, has been recalled from the Continent where he was serving under the Duke of Wellington’s Command, earning Distinctions for his Conduct. He is quoted as saying:

  “I am surprised and saddened by His Lordship’s passing. Although I had no knowledge of his marriage, my sympathies are, of course, also extended to his wife’s family. I deeply appreciate the honour of receiving His Royal Highness’s sentiments on this matter.”

  The Seventh Earl is scheduled to return to His Native Shores next Month, just in time for the Season. As the Son of a very Distant Relative of the Calverton line, this must surely be a Pleasant Change in Circumstances for the Distinguished Soldier. His Arrival will be Eagerly Awaited by the Ton. Colonel Lyndhurst is Unwed, and Reputed to be of Handsome Countenance. We wonder if the Military Strategies he has Created for our Brave and Noble Wellington can compare to the Romantic Strategies which Doubtless will be Created by The Fairer Sex?”

  A pair of slim hands folded the paper and set it back on the table. The buzz and rumble of another London day continued unabated beneath the window, but the person in the room did not move.

  The ornate mirror on the opposite wall reflected a slender lad, in nondescript clothing. An unkempt shirt straggled out of a pair of well-worn breeches and a dark jacket was flung over a nearby chair. Long gold hair was tied back into a serviceable bundle and the lad’s cheeks were smooth and showed no hint of a beard.

  Raucous laughter echoed outside the room. It was early yet, but here, in the elegantly erotic rooms of 14 Beaulieu Crescent, the women were stirring. Soon their customers would be thronging the streets of London, and within hours of sunset, the entire mansion would be alive with seekers of pleasure.

  The figure rose and crossed the room to gaze from the mullioned window onto the thoroughfare below. An occasional carriage clattered by, and some vendors passed, having made their daily deliveries.

  For the moment, all was as it should be.

  The figure shrugged. For a slip of a lad named Charlie, who had spent the last few years quietly working around the “Crescent” as it was known, this was an ordinary morning.

  For Charlotte, Countess of Calverton and widow of the Sixth Earl, this might well be the day her troubles began.

  It was very doubtful that Colonel Jordan Lyndhurst would be pleased to find out that Lady Charlotte and Charlie of the Crescent were one and the same. He’d be even more upset to learn that, as of yesterday, the Dowager Countess was now the owner of a house of ill-repute.

  But what would really get his blood pounding would be the knowledge that this same Dowager had most likely murdered the Sixth Earl.

  Chapter One

  London, 1815

  “Don’t you worry, none, Susie. Madam Charlie ain’t gonna let no one ‘urt you.”

  The Seventh Earl of Calverton, Jordan Lyndhurst, curled his lip as he caught the snatch of conversation outside the door. Clearly “Susie” was new at her job.

  “We gets to give the customers what they want, but no rough stuff. It’s a ‘ouse rule, and Antonio will be there in a sec if you shouts for ‘im.”

  The voices faded away, leaving Jordan slightly puzzled.

  This was a brothel. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly it masqueraded under the trappings of a “discreet house of pleasure”, and offered its clients a nice selection of foods, excellent wines, and several well-organized gaming tables.

  But beneath the facade of discretion and elegance, there were women willing to trade their bodies for money. Cash. Cold hard cash.

  Jordan snorted. There would always be women ready to trade their bodies for cash. Some forced by circumstance, others by greed. His lip curled even more as he lay back on the comfortable divan and watched the fire flicker in the grate.

  He devoutly hoped that Susie wouldn’t have to shout for Antonio, whoever the hell he was. Probably that mountainous doorman who’d tried to bow politely as he’d been ushered onto the premises earlier. Watching him bow was like watching a whale breach in the ocean. Surprising, enormous and a bit messy on the way down.

  He felt that he could fairly assess this place, seeing as he wasn’t really here as a customer. Well, not in the strictest sense of the word. He’d be getting serviced this evening, but not sexually.

  This was the one place where he could find someone to help him ease the ache in his back. For the last several months, he’d been using the services of Major Ryan Penderly’s Japanese manservant. Kasuki’s trick of walking up and down Jordan’s spine had cracked bones loudly, squashed his intestines into pancakes, and given him enormous relief from the pain he’d suffered intermittently since he’d been thrown from his horse in Belgium.

  Now Kasuki was gone, heading home on a packet boat, and he’d learned of a Japanese girl, here at the Crescent, who did the same kind of treatment.

  He fidgeted a little, aware of the growing soreness in his spine. Damn. He’d arrived here not a moment too soon.

  Of course, he supposed, he could get a quick fuck while he was at it.

  It had been nearly a year since the last one, incredible though it seemed.

  A year since he’d buried himself between the softly rounded thighs of his soon-to-be fiancée, Daisy Wrothings. A year since he’d suckled the sweet juices from between her legs and felt her come in his face, only to have her tell him afterwards that she was marrying someone else. A Duke. One who had an intact estate, and more money than God. Damn. And damn again. That had been the end of his wenching. Fortunately, it had coincided with the beginning of the hardest work he could remember doing.

  The ache in his spine was transferring itself to an aching erection. Maybe he should persuade Miss Japanese Nimble Feet to suck him off while she was here, take care of all the aches at once, as it were.

  She probably wouldn’t mind, and he could afford the extra cost. Now that Calverton Chase was practically whole, and the estate regaining some of its income, it was getting time to start living some kind of a life again. One that didn’t include long hours in the fields with his tenants, days poring over financial papers with his agent and his lawyer, and nights alone with only brandy and exhaustion for company.

  Yes, perhaps a quick fuck was just the diversion he needed. Someone young, lithe, who could suck his cock into next week.

  Someone eager, someone t
all, someone perhaps blonde, someone nice to look at…

  Someone like her.

  He had been so lost in his thoughts that she’d entered the room without him hearing her. His soldier’s instincts were horrified by such a lapse of concentration. He frowned at himself.

  “Good evening, my Lord.”

  Her voice was low and refined, her body slender and tall, and she was one mouthwateringly beautiful woman. He wanted her immediately and his cock seconded the notion.

  “I must apologize for keeping you waiting. I was not informed until just now that you were asking for Kiko-San.”

  Jordan rose without even thinking about it. Whatever else she was, this was a woman and deserving of his courtesy at least.

  “No matter. I have been quite comfortable, and the staff here is certainly attentive.” He waved negligently at the brandy glass, which was nearly empty. “A fine brandy, too, if I may be allowed.”

  She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I am gratified. My staff does its best.”

  “Your staff?”

  “That is correct.”

  The gray eyes looking at him were expressionless, allowing him to see nothing of her feelings, her character, or her personality. Perversely, he wanted to bring a glitter into those eyes. To provoke a reaction from her. To see what she’d look like if he thrust deep into her and pressed her clit just right to topple her off the highest mountain.

  “Then you must be…”

  “Madam Charlie. Yes.” Another polite nod followed these words.

  “You own the Crescent?”

  “I do.”

  “You seem very young to have such a responsibility. Have you been a prostitute long?”

  He could have sworn a faint sparkle of anger flashed behind her eyes, but it was gone before he could be sure.

  She turned away with a pretense of attending to the fire. “Unfortunately, my Lord, Kiko has left our establishment.”

  The truth? Or a lie to get rid of him after that unpardonable insult? He couldn’t tell. Damn. She was very, very good.

  “However, we all realized the extraordinary benefits that Kiko’s techniques were able to bring her clients. She undertook the task of teaching us a few of her methods. If you would consider another person administering her massage?”

  Jordan pretended to consider her offer, while noting every single stitch of clothing she wore so beautifully, every strand of hair, every dip and hollow in her skin that he could see. He catalogued her, thoroughly, effectively, and rapidly.

  His soldiering skills might be lapsing in some areas, but others were still invaluable to him, on occasion. This was certainly one of the occasions.

  “Well, seeing as my back will only get worse if nothing is done, there seems to be little choice for me in this matter. I would be willing to accept the ministrations of an alternate, if you assure me she is skilled enough to at least do no damage.”

  “I can assure you of that.”

  “So tell me, Madam Charlie. Who is this skilful practitioner of the Oriental healing techniques?”

  “Me.”

  * * * * *

  Charlie knew that she had finally, utterly, magnificently, lost her mind. None of her inner turmoil showed on her face, however. She had schooled herself far too well for that.

  But she had just agreed to offer a service to a customer, something she had sworn never to do. And all because of his eyes.

  They’d stared at her, brown pools glittering with gold flecks, past her outer facade and digging deep into places she’d long thought dead.Those brown pools, glittering with gold flecks, stared past her outer façade and seemed to dig deep into places she’d long thought dead.

  He’d looked at her like he wanted to know what she looked like naked, but also that he needed to know what she was thinking while she was naked.

  It was that particular look that had broken through her resolve.

  “If you would care to remove your clothing, my Lord,” she gestured to the ornate screen standing in one corner of the large room. “Then please resume your seat. I shall return in a moment.”

  She didn’t give him a chance to respond before whisking herself out of the room and running up the short stairwell to her private quarters.

  Her hands were shaking by the time she got there and she shocked the woman in her rooms by bursting in with a gasp.

  “Good heavens, Miss Charlie. Whatever’s the matter?”

  “I have to change. Quick. My silk robe and chemise. The blue ones.”

  “Miss Charlie. Whatever for?”

  “Hurry, Matty. I’m going to give a customer Kiko’s treatment.”

  “Oh, Miss. No. You ain’t gonna…”

  “No, Matty. I’m just going to walk his spine for him and give him a quick back massage. Just like Kiko showed me. That is absolutely and completely all.”

  Matty looked at her mistress. “You sure? You’re awfully pink.”

  Charlie deliberately tried to slow her breathing. “I know. He’s caught me by surprise. It’s the Earl of Calverton.”

  Matty’s jaw dropped and she plopped down on the big bed, heedless of the gown she was crushing beneath her ample hips. “Oooh! Never say.”

  “Oh yes, Matty. He’s here.” Charlie struggled with her lacings and slid out of her gown. “He has a back problem and came looking for Kiko. That’s all. And before you ask, he doesn’t have a clue who I am.”

  “Well, let’s keep it that way, shall we?” said the woman, with the easy familiarity of a long time friend.

  Charlie slid her undergarments off and allowed Matty to ease the silk over her head. She knew she’d need her balance to maintain this treatment and Kiko had emphasized over and over again the need for lightness. Lightness in the heart, the mind and the body. No heavy clothes, no intense thoughts, just focus and awareness.

  Charlie sighed.

  Awareness. That wouldn’t be a problem.

  She was very aware of Jordan Lyndhurst. She just wasn’t quite sure why. His frowning expression had caught her attention within seconds of entering that room, and he was firmly fixed within her consciousness.

  “So, do you want another girl in with you?” Matty’s words jerked her back from her thoughts.

  “No, I don’t think so. But just in case, who’s free?”

  Matty paused in her folding and tidying, her brow wrinkling. “Well, let me see, Susie and Grace are entertaining Mr. Johns this evening.”

  “I remember. He did tell us he’d be here tonight for his usual entertainment. And I think it will be perfect for Susie to start with Grace. A good introduction. “

  “Most everyone has a client who has either arrived already or who will be here soon.”

  Charlie was always amazed at Matty’s uncanny ability to stay on top of the doings at the Crescent every single night. She seemed to know instinctively who would be best for whom, and was the single best resource Charlie could have ever imagined. Every item Charlie owned would be happily parted with before she’d let anything happen to Matty.

  “The three newer girls are in the billiard room and Antonio is keeping an eye on the crowd in there. It’s full again, of course, with a few lined up to get in.”

  Charlie’s newest feature, her “Billiard Room”, featured a large green baize table, several cues and three female players, all quite naked.

  Customers were permitted a seat around the table, where they might smoke, drink and enjoy the view to their hearts’ content. Touching, however, was prohibited.

  So far, the room was a screaming success. The sight of three nude lovelies playing billiards was provocative and entrancing. There were few customers who left the establishment after their allotted time in the billiard room. Most of them hurried off to find themselves a partner for the rest of the night. It had proved a handsome moneymaker, the girls liked the respite from other, more athletic duties, and Charlie was generally pleased with the results.

  “Oh, you know who’s not on tonight is Jane. She’s ar
ound someplace, but can’t service any customers this evening, it’s her courses time.”

  Charlie nodded, aware that one or other of her girls was bound to miss a few days a month. It was calculated into her system, and she’d been amazed at how grateful the girls were.

  “And Dr. Ponsonby was by again.” Matty’s lips curled into a half-sneer. “He was pushing Dora to take him upstairs. Just like he did last time. Antonio saw him off, but I think he’s going to be trouble, that one.”

  Charlie nodded. “It’s time to deal with him, I think.” She turned towards the door. “Remind me to make an appointment with Ponsonby soon. We’ll straighten out this business once and for all. I must go. The Earl will be waiting.”

  Matty slanted a look at Charlie. “You be careful with that one, sweeting. Jordan Lyndhurst could be very dangerous.”

  “Not to a London Madam, Matty,” she smiled slightly. “That’s all he thinks I am. A procurer. Lowest of the low. He asked how long I’d been a prostitute.”

  Matty gaped. “Why that dirty, rotten-minded piece of…”

  “What else should he think? I’m happy he feels that way. Keeps his nose out of our business. He’ll pay no more attention to me than he would if I were what he assumes I am.”

  “You be careful. You hear me?” The other woman’s eyes betrayed her worry.

  Charlie crossed the room and put her arms around Matty, hugging her hard. “You worry too much.”

  “And if I don’t, who’s going to, I’d like to know?”

  Charlie pulled back and gazed at the woman she loved more than any other on the face of the planet. She raised her hand and gently caressed the savagely wrinkled skin that marred one side of Matty’s neck and rose to a sharp point behind one ear. No hair grew there any more.

  “Matty, you’ve done enough for me. Let me do the worrying, and the planning, from now on. Please?”

  Matty’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re more precious to me than any daughter could be, Charlie. I can’t help worrying that this life is not right for you. You should be in a fine house with a fine husband and several fine…”