dress, fresh face, and long, undressed hair.
"She is a country girl," Charlie said when he remained silent. "She is from Oxfordshire. She came to London to find a job as a lady's maid."
"How did she end up at Aggie's, then?"
"Because your dear friend Aggie lured her back to that brothel of hers under the pretext that it was a home for runaways. She fed her, offered her a bed for the night, then locked her up in a room to force her to work for her."
Radcliffe frowned at that but had the good grace not to claim that Aggie would not do such a thing. Instead, he rapped on the roof of the carriage, signaling the driver that he was ready to leave. Charlie and Bessie both relaxed somewhat as the carriage started to move,taking them away from the possibility of the carriage door suddenly opening to reveal a furious Aggie, eager to snatch back her victim.
Charlie cast one last reassuring smile at the girl, then leaned her head back on the carriage seat and turned her face to the window to peer out at the passing night. They had ridden in silence for some time when Radcliffe finally shifted and muttered, "She is not my friend."
Charlie sniffed at that. "You could have fooled me."
"She is not. I have never even been in that establishment before," he said irritably. "Though I don't know why I'm bothering to say so."
She glared at him. "Well, then why the devil would you go there tonight? And why drag me along with you?"
"I thought you would enjoy it," he snapped.
Charlie snorted. "Oh, aye. I have always fancied the idea of being tied to a bed and whipped." When Bessie gasped, her eyes going round, Charlie managed a stiff smile and reassured her quickly, "It did not go so far. She tied me to the bed, but Radcliffe came ere she used her whip."
"Oh, blessed saint, she is a wicked woman."
"She is a spongy, swag-bellied bawd," Charlie replied with disgust, then bent a glare on Radcliffe. "I notice that while you stuck me with her, you managed to lance yourself a lovely little bit of fluff. I suppose that Glory person was just your way of passing the time while I enjoyed myself?"
Before he could deny it she went on, "Next time you wish to take me somewhere I might enjoy myself, my lord, might I suggest you try one of the clubs or coffee houses? I only tell you this so that I do not find myself somewhere equally enjoyable next time, like… oh, I do not know… say a castle dungeon or bedlam."
"I take your point," Radcliffe growled.
Grunting in response, Charlie turned to peer out the window again, determined not to say another word to the man tonight. A brothel for God's sake! Wait until Beth heard about this. Her eyes were slipping closed, her mind beginning to drift as she heard Radcliffe ask Bessie where she came from. Already knowing the answer, Charlie allowed their voices to combine with the gentle jostling of the carriage to lull her to sleep.
"Wake up, Charles. We are here."
Opening her eyes, Charlie peered dully at Radcliffe. Her brain was throbbing painfully and it took her a moment to recall even who Charles was. Sighing wearily as recollection returned, she waited as Radcliffe disembarked, then helped Bessie out of the carriage, before stumbling after them and up the path to the front door, which was even now opening to reveal Radcliffe's butler. "Good evening, m'lords. You had a good night, I hope?"
"Barrels of fun. Stokes. Just barrels," Charlie commented dryly when Radcliffe merely grunted at the question. Ignoring the man's obvious curiosity, she gestured toward the young maid, preparing to explain her presence, but Radcliffe beat her to it.
'This is Bessie, Stokes. She is—" He hesitated, a frown tugging at his lips as he debated what to say, then finished simply with, "Lady Elizabeth's maid."
When the old man raised one questioning eyebrow at the girl's sudden and late arrival, Radcliffe added, "She came in by carriage today, and had some difficulty on the journey. No doubt she is hungry and tired. See
"She is a country girl," Charlie said when he remained silent. "She is from Oxfordshire. She came to London to find a job as a lady's maid."
"How did she end up at Aggie's, then?"
"Because your dear friend Aggie lured her back to that brothel of hers under the pretext that it was a home for runaways. She fed her, offered her a bed for the night, then locked her up in a room to force her to work for her."
Radcliffe frowned at that but had the good grace not to claim that Aggie would not do such a thing. Instead, he rapped on the roof of the carriage, signaling the driver that he was ready to leave. Charlie and Bessie both relaxed somewhat as the carriage started to move,taking them away from the possibility of the carriage door suddenly opening to reveal a furious Aggie, eager to snatch back her victim.
Charlie cast one last reassuring smile at the girl, then leaned her head back on the carriage seat and turned her face to the window to peer out at the passing night. They had ridden in silence for some time when Radcliffe finally shifted and muttered, "She is not my friend."
Charlie sniffed at that. "You could have fooled me."
"She is not. I have never even been in that establishment before," he said irritably. "Though I don't know why I'm bothering to say so."
She glared at him. "Well, then why the devil would you go there tonight? And why drag me along with you?"
"I thought you would enjoy it," he snapped.
Charlie snorted. "Oh, aye. I have always fancied the idea of being tied to a bed and whipped." When Bessie gasped, her eyes going round, Charlie managed a stiff smile and reassured her quickly, "It did not go so far. She tied me to the bed, but Radcliffe came ere she used her whip."
"Oh, blessed saint, she is a wicked woman."
"She is a spongy, swag-bellied bawd," Charlie replied with disgust, then bent a glare on Radcliffe. "I notice that while you stuck me with her, you managed to lance yourself a lovely little bit of fluff. I suppose that Glory person was just your way of passing the time while I enjoyed myself?"
Before he could deny it she went on, "Next time you wish to take me somewhere I might enjoy myself, my lord, might I suggest you try one of the clubs or coffee houses? I only tell you this so that I do not find myself somewhere equally enjoyable next time, like… oh, I do not know… say a castle dungeon or bedlam."
"I take your point," Radcliffe growled.
Grunting in response, Charlie turned to peer out the window again, determined not to say another word to the man tonight. A brothel for God's sake! Wait until Beth heard about this. Her eyes were slipping closed, her mind beginning to drift as she heard Radcliffe ask Bessie where she came from. Already knowing the answer, Charlie allowed their voices to combine with the gentle jostling of the carriage to lull her to sleep.
"Wake up, Charles. We are here."
Opening her eyes, Charlie peered dully at Radcliffe. Her brain was throbbing painfully and it took her a moment to recall even who Charles was. Sighing wearily as recollection returned, she waited as Radcliffe disembarked, then helped Bessie out of the carriage, before stumbling after them and up the path to the front door, which was even now opening to reveal Radcliffe's butler. "Good evening, m'lords. You had a good night, I hope?"
"Barrels of fun. Stokes. Just barrels," Charlie commented dryly when Radcliffe merely grunted at the question. Ignoring the man's obvious curiosity, she gestured toward the young maid, preparing to explain her presence, but Radcliffe beat her to it.
'This is Bessie, Stokes. She is—" He hesitated, a frown tugging at his lips as he debated what to say, then finished simply with, "Lady Elizabeth's maid."
When the old man raised one questioning eyebrow at the girl's sudden and late arrival, Radcliffe added, "She came in by carriage today, and had some difficulty on the journey. No doubt she is hungry and tired. See
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