Sylvie Sommerfield - Noah's Woman Read Free Page B

a girl from here and on occasion she saw and spoke to Charity here. She feels that Charity is exactly what my wife needs."
    "Mrs. Stewart?"
    "Yes, Mrs. Stewart. Her word is good enough for me. I shall take Charity and train her well. You need not worry."
    "Then it is agreed. I will speak to Charity When would you like to come for her?"
    "If you agree, I will come for her Sunday afternoon."
    "Very good. And thank you again, Mr. Brentwood. I'm sure you will not be disappointed in Charity."
    "I doubt if I will," he said, smiling. "I doubt if I will."
    Charles left Josine's office, content with the progress of plans that had been initiated over a year and

    a half ago. As he seated himself in his carriage, he thought of the first time he had seen Charity.
    He had escaped the confinement of his wife's sickroom and the cloying scent of death that always seemed to cling to it. He hated being chained to her withering body and longed for the soft flesh and sweet scent of someone healthy . . . and young.
    He had claimed a need to finish some work and gone out for a drive in his carriage so that he could get his wife out of his mind. He was passing the orphanage when he saw her. He had donated money to the Safe Home Orphanage before, and wondered how he had missed this gloriously pretty girl. Then, he had discovered the apprentice policy Josine Gilbert had begun when she first established the orphanage. It had been very well accepted, and a number of her children had grown and gone on to make good lives for themselves. The policy made Charles's plan simple.
    He had watched, finding out how Charity spent what free time she had, and had seen her blossom. Now, he could wait no more. His first step was to get her into his home. All the comforts and pretty clothes and gifts he could supply would eventually bring her to his bed. If there was anything Charles was good at, it was seduction. Had he not seduced his wealthy wife when she was younger and taken her to his bed, knowing the marriage would be forced? He had wanted her and her money, and he took both casually. Now he had his wife's wealth, and Charity would be his pleasure.
    Sunday he would go to the orphanage, and he was sure Mrs. Gilbert would have Charity prepared to go

    with him. Tonight he would go home and make the arrangements. Of course, Charity's quarters had to be far enough away from his wife's room so that she would be unaware of what was going on.
    His body trembled with the visions he conjured up. There was no one who could not be bought, and Charity's life was a drab and empty one. Once she saw how generous he could be, her surrender would follow swiftly. He could see and feel and smell her young naked body beneath him.
    Charity tried to ignore the chiming bell that had awakened her every morning of her life. She burrowed her head beneath her pillow. She absolutely did not want to get out of bed this Sunday morning. The day was gray, and she had heard steady rainfall most of the night. It meant she would be confined inside, and that thought made her groan inwardly.
    But the long, barracks-like room in which she slept with over fifty other girls of various ages was alive with chatter and the bustle of rapid dressing.
    "Charity." Beth bent to shake her. "Charity, come on. Everyone else is almost dressed. You'll be late for breakfast."
    "I'm not hungry. Go to breakfast without me," she mumbled from beneath her pillow.
    "You know Mrs. Gilbert will just send someone back for you. You'd better get up."
    With a disgusted grunt, Charity pushed the pillow away and contemplated her friend. Beth knew her too well to be alarmed at the scowl. She smiled, and after

    a while Charity smiled too, swung her legs over the narrow cot she slept on, and stood up.
    Before either Charity or Beth had time to speak again, one of the younger girls came running toward them.
    "Charity! Charity!" The girl was breathless by the time she stopped beside them. She was a girl of about ten, who had been