Christmas Charity (Fair Cyprians of London 5)

Smiling, Hugo ran his fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know what love was until I met you.”

A wave of emotion threatened to engulf Charity. “Oh, Hugo, I wish I really was worthy of you!” she cried, hugging him tightly before drawing back.

“You mean, in my father’s eyes.” He traced her lips with his fingertips. “For I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Charity, my love; only... my father holds the purse strings now.” A muscle worked at the corner of his mouth. “And I sail in two weeks.”

“Two weeks...” Charity felt the sting of tears, and the pain radiate throughout her body as if she’d been physically beaten by the news. “Two weeks and then I’ll never see you again? Oh, Hugo, is there no other way?”

“I’d grasp it with both hands and the gratitude of a lifetime if only one could be found. But you will see me again.” Getting to his feet, Hugo stood, naked and vulnerable by the bed where, once a week for the past eighteen months, Charity had experienced the only real love in her life. But there was no doubting his sincerity as he took her in his arms, kissed her gently on the lips and whispered, “I want you more than anything in the world, Charity.”

And Charity believed he meant it when he vowed, “I swear that two years from now, on a wintry December morning, with the carollers warbling about peace on earth and mercy mild, I will marry you.”

“And you will make me the happiest girl alive,” Charity whispered.

Even though she knew such happily-ever-afters did not happen to girls like her.

Chapter 2

Feeling dull-eyed and hollow, Charity lowered herself onto the only remaining chair at Madame’s crowded breakfast table and tried to eat.

She’d not been able to make the effort the previous day, but now her stomach felt hollow and she thought she would faint from lack of food.

Breakfast was habitually laid out at noon, and those girls too weary from the night before risked going hungry if they didn’t present themselves. Madame wasn’t inclined to indulge anyone. Except herself, of course. A pile of steaming, buttered crumpets piled onto a plate in front of her sent off an enticing aroma that would have made Charity’s belly rumble with longing on any other day. Such treats were rarely for the girls, however. Plain bread and drippings were the mainstays of this first meal, but the fact that it was supplemented with porridge and eggs on an ad hoc basis was enough to draw most of the household’s occupants downstairs.

“Hugo couldn’t have been up to scratch with that long face, Charity,” teased Emily. “Smile! You’re the one who gives us hope in our own happily-ever-afters.”

There were a few corroborating sighs at this. But Emily’s remark was particularly painful this morning.

Unable to meet her eye, Charity slanted a glance at Madame. However, the steaming crumpets rather than Charity’s response were occupying the complete attention of their benefactress.

Feeling sick with nerves, Charity decided this was as good an opportunity as any to speak the truth of her situation. If Madame was filling her belly with rich food, she might be more inclined towards leniency than otherwise.

“Hugo has to go away.” She’d not meant to sound pathetic and lovelorn. Her voice was so soft, she wasn’t even sure anyone heard her response, but suddenly all eyes were on her and a great many voices were asking, “What’s happened, Charity? What do you mean, Hugo has to go away?”

Charity’s throat felt swollen, like her eyes from the copious tears she’d shed the previous day and all night.

“But Hugo was never going to leave you. He’s the one true faithful man who comes here. He can’t do this to you! Why is he doing this to you?”

It was Rosetta, her voice growing shrill. Charity closed her eyes and wished the girl would calm down. It wasn’t as if Hugo had left her.

“He lost heavily at the gaming table.” There was no way to soften the truth. Charity sou

nded as bitter as she felt though she’d done her best to forgive Hugo.

“Oh, Charity, what will you do?”

Again, it was Rosetta, weeping, now, as if her heart might break. Charity supposed she should feel more charitable towards her, knowing how badly treated she’d been by one of her clients in the past. She was damaged, her emotions always at the surface.

“Young Mr Adams has left you?” Only now did Madame raise her head and seem to take notice of the conversation.

In the light from the sun that slanted through the windows, Charity could see a droplet of honey clinging to an errant hair upon the woman’s chin.

“He’s said nothing to me, my girl.”

“It was very sudden, Madame.” Charity dropped her eyes as she waited for Madame to digest the implications. For her. For everyone. Charity no longer had a generous protector. Hugo was no longer able to pay for Charity’s exclusive services as he had done for nearly two years.

Now, Madame would throw her to the wolves. She would make Charity available to all of her so-called discerning clients; and discerning depended on the fatness of their pocketbook.

She shuddered. Charity was about to become like Madame’s other girls. She might be well fed and dressed but she’d have no choice as to whom she would sleep with any given night.