The Lady and the Locksmith (7 page)

Release her, untie her, set her free
, his body begged, while his fingers tried to obey. He hastened to find the right way to unwrap her, the ribbon to pull, the cord to unlace, and all the little hooks that must be undone, before he could enjoy her.

Her beautiful little breasts sprang free, and he moaned out loud and cupped them with his hands. He cupped and kissed and teased her a little.

He made her stand up again, and twirled her around - bare-breasted and glorious - but still wearing her lace-edged bloomers. He caught her up in his arms and lay her down on the bed, surging over her, eager to remove the last piece of her clothing so he could see her naked.

‘No,’ she said, and shook her head. She pushed his hands away.

‘No?’ Carl blinked in pure surprise.

‘No.’ Her dark eyes gazed up at him soulfully for a moment, and then she lowered her lashes very prettily, and made her request.

‘Before I take these off,’ she said, ‘I’d like to see
you
undress.’

He smiled and stood up, beside the bed. He pulled off his braces, and pulled his shirtfront free from his trousers and started to unbutton his clothes. He began with his shirt, unbuttoning down towards his waist, every movement revealing more of his chest. He glanced up to see if he pleased her, and to his delight she moistened her lips. Growing more cocksure, he tossed the shirt aside and flexed his arms a little, so she’d see what a catch she’d made. He knew he had a fine torso, muscular and tanned; he knew he was a fine-looking man. She gave him a pleasing little sigh.

He studied her face, as his fingers moved to undo the buttons on the trousers. He lingered on the very topmost button, watching her all the while.

‘Carl,’ she said, with a coy little frown. ‘You are taking your time, I think.’

‘Aye,’ he said, fingers toying with the top button, while her impatience grew.

‘Get on with it then, and I’ll remove mine.’

His fingers flew to undo the rest, and he was out of his britches in a trice. He looked up and saw where her gaze rested, but he was confident and proud. Carl liked his body best when he was hard.

Her eyes widened. Her innocence was sweet, and her interest was obvious. His arousal throbbed and demanded relief.

‘Quit staring, Susannah, and keep your end of the bargain!’

She laughed and slid her drawers off, wiggling her hips irresistibly as she did so. Carl’s breathing faltered. He had a feeling their lovemaking would be brief.

He was on the bed in an instant, pinning her down, gazing into her eyes. She was breathless and excited beneath him, begging for him to start. He ran his hands over her naked body, enjoying her curves, kissing her smooth shoulders, her soft neck, and her face. Eventually, Carl’s fingers found that slick little keyhole between her legs – and he knew she’d be moist and ready. He told himself he must ease into her gently, but he longed to thrust hard inside.

‘Susannah, you must forgive me, for what I am about to do.’

His whole body tensed in readiness for that first delicious stroke.

‘Do it,’ she ordered, and wriggled a little closer. ‘I’ll forgive you if it hurts.’

Her breasts were warm against his chest. Her legs already parted to accommodate him. Her body was open and ready to receive him, and Carl pushed his swollen shaft inside.

She moaned as he breached her, plunging his length into that sweet, sweet paradise between her thighs, and he cried out in pure delight.

It was agony to be assailed by such pleasure. Hot and wet and sweet. He meant to wait and hold her gently, so she could get used to the feel of him inside her, but he could not hold back and nor could she. She clung to his shoulders, as he started to thrust, and if she felt pain she gave no voice to it. Instead, she kissed and clung and let him love her. She was wild and sweet and free.

Carl had never known such untrammelled passion. He thrust harder and she responded to his every move. This was a woman who had smashed her way to freedom. This was the love of his life. Her inexperience had beguiled him, but her passion drove him wild.

He tried to tell her – to warn her what was coming - but the pleasure pushed too fast. Pushed them both towards the edge. Thrusting deep, gasping with pleasure, he heard her voice calling out. Begging him, beseeching him - but for what? For mercy? For more? He wasn’t sure, until he felt her tumbling climax around him as he gave her his last and final thrust. He cried out as his body let rip inside her. Hot bolts of lightening shot through him. Racked with sensation, he lost control and let the turbulent waves flood over him and into her.

Triumph flooded his heart. With her body trembling beneath him, and her hot, sweet kisses on his neck, Carl knew that he had loved her well.

But then came guilt, and fear, for he knew that Fortescue and his men could not fail to catch up with them, and then there would be hell to pay.

For a while, they lay together, exchanging lover’s vows.

‘It scares me,’ Carl confessed, murmuring the words in her ear, ‘that it was only by chance I was sent to your house that day.’

‘It wasn’t chance,’ she said. ‘ It was in the stars. I looked up at the stars every night, and wished for you to come. That day when you knocked at the door, my wish came true.’

Carl kissed her forehead and thanked God it wasn’t another man, who held her in his arms tonight. ‘I know what I want to give you for our first anniversary, Susannah.’

‘You are thinking of our anniversary already? When we are still unwed?’

Carl didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to pretend. He cupped her warm breast with his hand and made promises he hoped he could keep. ‘On our anniversary I shall give you a beautiful key – the key to the door of our house. I shall fashion it myself out of gold and silver, and put it on a necklace, and then you can wear it all the time.’

‘A lovely idea,’ she said, smiling in pleasure. ‘But don’t make me wait a whole year. Make me a key tomorrow.’

He laughed. ‘My sweet, impatient girl! I promise - as soon as we have the house, you shall have the key.’

B
Y THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Susannah’s disappearance had made the papers.

‘Woman missing – feared abducted,’ the heading read. Carl bought a copy from the newsboy on the corner, and Susannah watched him put the coin in the boy’s hand, and wondered if the boy had any idea he had just met the man who’d committed the crime.

They found a park bench in a secluded little square, and sat down and read about themselves.

Carl read out the words under his breath, as if someone might overhear them. ‘The daughter of a prospective member of parliament disappeared from her home on Tuesday, and fears are mounting for her safety …’

‘She is unlikely to understand what has happened to her,’ Susannah read, with a growing sense of outrage and anger, ‘as she is of unsound and feeble mind!’

‘The culprit must be apprehended and brought to justice,’ read Carl, and his voice remained steady, but his hand shook a little handling the newspaper. ‘Anyone with information about his whereabouts must contact the Police straight away …’

Susannah gripped Carl’s arm, as if she could prevent anything bad from happening to him. They decided to go back to the boarding house, to avoid the possibility of being seen out in the open, and that proved to be their big mistake. They walked back across the square, and past the market stalls on the corner. They bought some ham and cheese and tomatoes and they planned to enjoy a little picnic up there in the attic room.

On the front steps, they said hello to the landlady, and didn’t notice anything amiss. They ascended all three staircases, to their inhospitable little room, and opened the door. There were two policemen in there, waiting for them. The younger one was standing at the window, the older one sitting on the bed. Instinctively, Carl’s grip tightened on Susannah’s hand, and he turned back in the direction of the door, he as if he almost considered making a run for it, but a third man appeared in the doorway. Another policeman.

The trap was sprung, and they were caught fast.

‘Now do you understand why I didn’t want to go to that rogue Finnegan,’ Carl said to Susannah, as they put him in handcuffs.

She looked up at him in utter confusion. ‘You think he told them?’

‘I know so.’

She berated herself for her innocence and stupidity. ‘What do I do now, Carl? Tell me what I must do?’

The more senior of the two policemen interrupted. ‘You have to come with, us, Miss, and we’ll see you safely back home.’

They all made their way back down the stairs. She noticed how roughly they treated poor Carl, and how silently he bore it.

Outside the house, children were gawping and people kept coming to their doors to see what was going on. Susannah wanted to go with Carl, wherever they were taking him, but the Sergeant took her firmly by the arm and pulled her away.

Carl called out to her as they dragged him away. ‘My love, forgive me – it was an ill-conceived plan!’

‘It was the kindest thing anyone ever did for me!’ she called out.

He just gave her a regretful smile.

To Susannah’s surprise they did not escort her back home to her little basement. They put her in a horse-drawn cab, and took her round to Dr. Finnegan’s house instead. As the cab drew up outside the smart terraced house, Susannah gazed miserably up at the facade and reflected on what Carl had said.

He was right, about Finnegan’s involvement. She had been too naïve to understand.

The two policemen escorted her into the house. They were pleased as punch that they had found her, and clearly expected Finnegan to feel the same way. They handed her over to the butler, who took hold of her arm and propelled her upstairs, fingers digging into her arm. The policemen laughed as she was led away, and went gleefully into the front parlour to discuss the terms of their reward.

So. She was a commodity, to be bought and sold.

She was consigned to a draughty guest bedroom on the first floor, to sit and contemplate her fate. The door wasn’t locked, but it was guarded. A young manservant sat on a chair right outside.

Susannah sighed, but she could hardly complain about her own situation, when poor Carl was being held like a felon. She had no idea what would happen to him. At worst his future would be ruined forever. At best he would go back to his old life – fixing people’s locks, singing in the tavern, taking girls out on the river - knowing that only a few streets away she was all alone and unhappy, locked up in her basement again.

She thought about the song he used to sing to her. The ballad about the girl who ran away with penniless, irresistible Jock. Carl used to smile and ask her if she understood why the girl chose the man who had nothing to offer her. Nothing but his love, that is.

Today, she knew that she did.

In one of the holding cells at the prison Carl sat on the edge of the narrow bed, lonely and upset. He’d been questioned, roughly, and he had told the truth, but nobody believed him. They insisted that he must have taken Susannah from the safety of her home by force. They had repeated this accusation so many times that Carl almost believed it himself.