Chapter 14
The damned problem was that Darius had already sent his best men with Andrew. He’d thought to protect him against Bartolini, but as matters turned out, he needed more protection against Court.
As he stood by his horse, about to swing into the saddle, his cousin Ivan approached him. A few moments’ conversation and Ivan was in possession of the few salient facts he needed. He returned to his own dwelling and had a horse saddled for his own use.
Darius accepted his help with relief. Ivan was a principal in the business they owned with Darius’s twin, Valentinian, but more than that, he was a good man in a tight spot.
He listened to the rest of the story as they paused for refreshments and horses on the way. The second horse Andrew had was a slug, and he was forced to change again at the next inn. Fortunately, this one proved younger and more amenable, meaning another agonizing wait. At least he could outline the situation.
“So you love this man,” Ivan’s dark brows rose slightly, the statement more a question, and his blue eyes gleamed.
“Haven’t you been listening? It’s the security of the nation at stake!”
Ivan curled his lip. “Isn’t it always? But this is different, is it not? This matters to you in another way. Don’t try to deny it, Darius. Every time you say his name your expression softens.”
“You should have been a lawyer,” Darius grumbled. “You’re as bad as Andrew.” Using the first name was a tacit acceptance, since he’d taken care to say “Mr. Graham” up to now.
“In any case, in court last year, when you should have been paying attention to Val, you couldn’t take your eyes off Andrew Graham.”
Darius shrugged and bit into the meat pie the landlady had brought out. She’d provided two and a collection of victuals they could, if necessary, eat on horseback. Darius had stuffed a saddlebag with bread, slices of cold meat, and some cheese, as well as a bottle of beer he had no intention of trying to quaff while he was galloping ventre a terre. “Maybe,” he said when he’d cleared his mouth. He took another bite and chewed appreciatively. “But he’s a widower with a small daughter, and he has a living to make.”
Ivan snorted. “You’re an Emperor.”
“I have to persuade him of that.”
The landlord brought a fine chestnut for Darius’s use. After checking the girth, Darius swung into the saddle and took the reins, thanking the landlord with a nod. He pocketed the token that would tell the next inn they stopped at where the horse belonged, and they took to the road once more.
At last, Dover came into sight, the forest of masts providing a counterpoint to the smooth stone of the castle, its round shape distinctive even in the moonlight. They had risked footpads and highwaymen riding here after dark, but what else could they do?
They trotted into town, deciding to go straight to the courtyard where the meeting with Bartolini was supposed to take place. Darius had the address of the meeting, but no idea where the yard was. Nor, it appeared, did anybody else they asked. Until they stopped at an inn.
There, one of the workmen knocking back his beer told him, although it took both Darius and Ivan to work out the directions. It was not that they did not remember, merely that the directions were somewhat idiosyncratic.
After discovering a street with the same name as the courtyard, they took the gamble that the yard lay close. They were right, but they had to tether their mounts and walk slowly up the street before they detected the narrow alleyway.
What clinched the matter was the sound of Andrew’s voice.
“Do you need money that badly? Badly enough to murder for it?”
The blast of a pistol discharged exploded in Darius’s head. Dragging out his own weapon, he took off at a run.
An answering shot came like an echo, not as loud as the first.
A narrow passage led him to a small yard filled with the stink of blood and burning gunpowder. The acrid smell left a tang in his mouth. Darius ignored it and everyone else in the yard as he hurtled toward the blood-spattered figure lying prone on the ground.
He couldn’t be dead. Please God, he wasn’t dead.
Andrew weakly pushed himself up and rolled on to his back. “Faugh, this place stinks!”
Seizing him, Darius skimmed his hands over Andrew’s face and shoulders before dragging him up and clamping his mouth to Andrew’s. He needed that kiss more than he needed air. He didn’t care who saw him or what they thought. “Oh, my love, I thought I had lost you!”
Andrew gave a shaky laugh and tossed a small pistol to the floor. “I never liked that thing, but I’m glad I had it today. I always carry it.”
When he tried to push out of Darius’s arms, Darius held on tight. He couldn’t let him go yet.
Andrew leaned back. “The idiot saw me drop two pistols. He should have made me take my coat off, and then he’d have seen the small pistol in my breeches’ pocket. It’s not a comfortable thing to use. The hammer has too much spring in it, and the pan is too close to my thumb.” He lifted his hand, revealing a singed knuckle. “But it saved my life, so I suppose I’ll have to keep it now.”
“I will build a shrine to it.” Darius ignored the noise going on around him, the discussion Ivan was holding with Smith and Bull.
“Court’s dead, I presume. He had two men with him.”
“They’re gone.” Ivan broke off his conversation to inform him. “A couple of bullies ran back into the house behind us.”
“So that’s how he got here without us seeing him.” Andrew tried to stand.
Darius helped him to his feet but kept his arm around his waist, as much for his own comfort as Andrew’s. “We came here, as arranged, to meet Bartolini,” Andrew said. “Who is dead, by the way. Court shot him.”
“He didn’t want anyone left alive to condemn him,” Darius said dryly, sparing the heap of humanity slumped to the floor. “Court could then sell the list again. He’s very short of money.”
“I imagine he was. I didn’t think he committed the crime for love of France.”
Andrew’s dry tone made Darius laugh. “He could also make contact with Bartolini’s master,” Darius said. “Dealing with him directly, he could probably obtain a better price. His father is careless with the information entrusted to him.”
“Are you sure it isn’t more than that?”
Darius nodded. “Almost certain. I will, however, mention the matter to my father. I think Court was a deluded, spoiled child who assumed he was the most important person in existence. I have seen his like before. He could probably justify his actions, at least to himself. It was his father’s fault for leaving the papers unguarded, I imagine. Or his father’s fault for not ensuring his son had enough money.” As usual, in a stressful situation, emotion drained from Darius, leaving him coolly analytical. He’d regarded the effect as a gift. It had certainly put him in good stead before, and he was thankful for it now.
“I’m surprised nobody has come to discover what the commotion is.”
“The house behind us is unoccupied,” Darius said. “So is the one to the side. The other two? Either the residents have decided this business is none of their affair, or they’ve been paid off, or they aren’t at home. I don’t care. If they had been concerned, they’d be here by now. So we will leave instead.” He nodded to Bull and Smith. “Make yourselves scarce. Go to a tavern, make some noise, come back to the inn later reeking of beer.”
“Aye, sir.” The footmen shuffled out of the yard.
Ivan shrugged and moved away to sweep up the small pistol from the floor. He held it in the palm of his hand, stared at it, and winced. “You should get something better than this.”
Darius turned in time to grab Andrew as he slumped. “We’re going back to the inn. No arguments, please.”
“You’ll get none.”
* * * *
His dizziness sent Andrew into panic for a few seconds, before he got hold of himself. “I can’t say I’ve ever killed a man before.” To his chagrin, his words came out hesitantly, and he sounded as if he’d swallowed a frog.
When Darius curved his arm around his shoulders, Andrew shook him off. Darius stood apart, his face frozen.
“I’m filthy,” Andrew tried to explain. “That floor has dirt ground on top of dirt.”
The lines around his mouth relaxing, Darius put his arm around Andrew’s waist once more, and this time tightened his hold. “I brought a change of clothes. You’re suffering from shock. You need support.” He laughed shakily. “So do I. Shall we lean on one another?”
“Yes.” He didn’t have the strength to object or the resolve. Darius felt wonderful, his strength supporting Andrew when he needed it the most.
Together, they swayed up the street like a couple of drunks. Not that they were out of place in this part of town. Inn doors lay open and people were laughing and shouting, as they always did when they had too much to drink. Slightly wild, crazily off-center.
Their presence reassured Andrew—a sign of life going on as normal. No wonder nobody had heard the shots. Two inns across the road from each other, crammed with boisterous clientele, doors slamming, voices raised would be enough to mask the sounds.
His head cleared as they walked to the end of the street.
Darius paused by a couple of horses tethered to a post outside a house. “I’m surprised they’re still here,” he commented. “Can you ride?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not as well as you, I’ll be bound.” Truthfully he did not want to let go of Darius. Now he had him he wanted to keep him close. Nobody thought anything of two men staggering up a street that contained its fair share of taverns. Only they knew they weren’t drunk.
Ivan murmured, “I’ll bring them. You go ahead. We need to get out of here before the authorities arrive. Let them think whatever they want to.”
Leaving Ivan to take care of the horses, they walked on, eventually gaining the more respectable part of town where their inn stood.
“I’ve never been to Dover before,” Andrew said, apropos of nothing. “Never been far out of London.”
“I like London,” Darius murmured. “It suits me better than the country but that has its merits, too.”
They reluctantly separated at the door of the inn and walked in like two fine gentlemen. Two fine gentlemen generously bedaubed with dirt. The landlord eyed them with disfavor, but Darius put on his aristocratic air and demanded two more rooms for him and for Ivan.
“Only got one available, sir, and that’s a fact,” the landlord said.
Despite Darius gently correcting him to “my lord,” the landlord remained adamant. “In the morning, after the packet leaves, there could be a room.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Andrew didn’t want Darius anywhere but his room. “We’ll take the one you have. Ivan will be glad of it when he arrives.”
“Are you sure?” Darius’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.” Andrew answered quietly but with utter determination. “We can share.” He looked away, in case the landlord was more perceptive than he appeared and caught the expression of naked longing Andrew surely must be displaying.
Darius said no more but followed Andrew upstairs.
Now he was glad they had the best bedchamber.
When he rang the bell, a maid hurried up with cans of hot water.
Andrew took off his coat and shook it, handing it to the maid. “Have this brushed off and made reasonable by the morning, if you please. I’m not expecting miracles.”
The maid dumped the hot water by the washstand, bobbed a curtsy, and took the coat, turning expectantly to Darius.
He shook his head. “My man will see to it.”
“You’ve brought your man?”
Darius’s lips turned up in a half smile. “No, but he would not appreciate anyone else touching my coats. He takes more pride in them than I do.” After turning the coat inside out, exposing the silk lining, he tossed the garment over a chair.
The maid left. Darius courteously opened the door for her and then closed it and leaned against it, folding his arms. “There’s only one bed.” His voice softened, became more intimate.
“Yes.” Unusually for him, Andrew didn’t know what to say. He fumbled for words. “It’s a big bed.”
“Andrew, tell me, or I’ll go and sleep in the tap room.”
The thought of Darius leaving him forced Andrew into action. Stepping forward, he set his hands either side of Darius’s body, not quite touching him, pressing his palms against the rough planked door.
He rested his forehead against Darius’s. “I nearly died tonight. I didn’t think of my daughter, God help me, but of you. How I hadn’t had the courage to take the step we both want. How much I…care for you.” He went on, trying to articulate what he was feeling. “Only then did I fully understand what I was throwing away. I can’t do it anymore, Darius. I can’t keep you at a distance.”
Darius spoke quietly, his breath heating Andrew’s skin. “You have to mean this.” His arms were still folded, forcing a barrier between them. “And if you do, I will not leave. This is not a one-night affair. Understand that.”
“Yes.” Andrew wet his lips, watched how Darius’s gaze went immediately to them. “I do not know what I will do or how I will live, but even if we don’t repeat this evening, I am always with you.”
If they lived together, they would hurt too many people. But surely Andrew could allow himself something of his own every now and again?
“That will do. For tonight at least.”
Slowly, Darius unfolded his arms and straightened. They were of a height, Darius perhaps a shade taller. Nothing to signify. His eyes were so blue, his gaze meeting and clashing with Andrew’s.
Without taking his eyes away from Andrew’s face, Darius reached down and cupped the bulge in Andrew’s breeches where his erection was trying to burst through the stitches. “You want me.”
Andrew moaned and ground his cock into Darius’s hand. “Yes. More than I can say.”
“You don’t have to say. That bed looks particularly inviting.”
“So does the floor.” Andrew didn’t care where they ended up, as long as they were together.
Darius’s smile broadened, his eyes gleamed. “Then kiss me. Show me how much you want me.”
Andrew mirrored Darius’s actions, pressing his hand against the fall of Darius’s breeches, shaping the organ that was as hard as his own. He pressed his lips against Darius’s, but he didn’t close his eyes. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this.
Darius opened his mouth, pushing Andrew instantly into wild desire. Their tongues met, dancing and devouring. Andrew licked up one side and down the other, a sense of joy pulsing through him. This was what he was born for. This was what he wanted.
His partner banded his arms around him, dragging him in tightly, but Andrew did not release his hold on Darius’s shaft. Now he had it, he would keep it.
Darius growled against his mouth, the feral sound sending messages through every part of Andrew’s body. The urge to touch Darius, feel his bare skin, became irresistible. Not that he wanted to resist.
Pulling away, he fumbled at the buttons of his waistcoat. Darius knocked his hands away and took over the task himself, stripping the waistcoat away. Before Andrew could respond, he’d dropped to his knees, unfastening the buckles of Andrew’s breeches, and his shoes, tugging the garment and stockings away.
Andrew’s drawers went the same way. With fabric bunched around his feet, unable to move lest he stumble, he watched Darius take his cock in his hand.
His spine thrilled to the touch. But when Darius took the rigid flesh into his mouth, Andrew thought he might die from joy. With a strangled cry, he watched his lover’s dark head move over him, wetting and sucking, urging him higher, to a shockingly sudden peak. “I can’t…” Whatever he was going to say flew out of his head as his balls stiffened and he came.
Andrew clapped his hand over his mouth, biting down to stop his cries being heard all over the building. Unlike the taverns they’d passed, this inn was a respectable one, the customers keeping their revelry down to a civilized murmur.
How he wished they would shout and scream!
His orgasm went on and on while Darius lapped up every drop. Watching his throat and the steady movement as he swallowed sent Andrew into fresh paroxysms of delight. He could do nothing but stand in a tangle of discarded clothing while Darius drank his fill.
Andrew was still shuddering when Darius moved away.
He wiped his mouth and sat back on his haunches. “Get into bed. I’ll join you.”
Andrew had to bend to climb out of the clothes and his shoes but the action didn’t embarrass him. A soft wave of wellbeing warmed him, although the night was a chilly one and the maid had not lit the fire.
The massive four-poster seemed appropriate, a suitable place to celebrate his love. He could no longer fight it, even if he had wanted to. What remained of his misgivings had been swept away when he felt that gun against his head, together with the knowledge that he could have well ended his life tonight.
He had not. He was starting a new life instead.
Darius undressed. No shame there, so Andrew felt free to enjoy the sight of Darius’s gloriously rounded buttocks when he turned to find something in his pocket. He picked up a towel from the pile by the washstand.
When he faced Andrew again, he caught him staring. Darius smiled slowly. “Here I am.” His shaft was hard, the cap shiny and taut. A few drops of clear liquid beaded at the eye. Andrew badly wanted to claim them.
Darius strolled to the bed, his fluid and muscular body poetry in the light from the fire and the candles set in the wall sconces.
Flinging back the covers, Darius blatantly admired Andrew’s body. “I couldn’t have dreamed of such a perfect man.”
Andrew smoothed a hand over his chest, the hairs tickling his palm, shamelessly displaying himself for his lover. Darius dropped the towel on the bed, spreading it out, and opened his hand to show Andrew a small vial. “I could say I had forgotten this was in my pocket, or some other such tale, but I would be lying to you. If you ever asked me to make love to you, I wanted to be ready.”
The vial contained a pale viscous liquid. Oil.
Darius gazed down at Andrew, smiling. “Do you want to do this? We don’t have to. I’m happy to be with you, to hold you, but I want you very much.”
Swallowing, Andrew nodded. “I want you too.”
Before, when his tutor at Oxford had initiated him, the act had hurt. Even then, he had attained some pleasure from it. From the warmth in Darius’s face, Andrew knew this time there would be no pain. Only pleasure awaited him.
He stretched, hands open, wordlessly urging Darius to come to him.
Darius put one knee on the bed and climbed in, straight into Andrew’s arms.
For a while, they only kissed, touched, and held one another. Andrew glowed in the delight of touching his lover, feeling the honed muscular body under his hands, having the right to kiss him.
After a few long, languorous kisses, he touched his mouth to Darius’s chin and then his throat, planning to work his way down his body to reciprocate the pleasure Darius had brought to him. He had his hand on Darius’s balls, but Darius gently moved it away and shook his head.
“I don’t want you like that. Not this time. I want it all, Andrew.”
Andrew gazed into those blue eyes, lost in pleasure. Nodding, he rolled onto his stomach. His previous male lover had always placed him like that. Darius stopped him before he could complete the maneuver. “No, I want to watch you come. I want to see it.”
He wanted Andrew open to him. No longer afraid, eager to feel Darius’s body in his, Andrew nodded, rolled onto his back, and lifted his knees instead. “I want you to see.”
Darius reached for the vial of oil and pulled out the cork with a slight pop. The faint aroma of roses reached Andrew’s nostrils as Darius poured a small puddle into his palm and used his fingers to bring the oil to Andrew’s rear. He caressed, slid his fingers along the crack between Andrew’s buttocks, before going to work.
He eased Andrew open. The task took some time, not least because Darius paused to kiss and tease, softly biting Andrew’s shoulders and then his nipples. The slight twinge roused Andrew further, and he lifted his lower body, urging Darius to do more.
“Do it.”
First one finger and then two, opening and circling, the very act an erotic joy, exciting every sense Andrew had. Colors were brighter, sensations more acute. Andrew moaned softly.
Darius came back to him. “You’re ready. I’m more than ready. Look at me, love.”
Andrew watched Darius take his cock in his hand and ease it into Andrew’s body. He kept his eyes open. Darius’s pupils darkened so much they became black circles with blue rims. He dropped a swift, hard kiss on to Andrew’s lips and then pushed, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he worked his way inside.
Andrew lifted his legs, clamping his knees to Darius’s ribs, holding his arms by his sides, to retain some measure of control. He pushed up as Darius eased in.
Darius didn’t stop until he was completely inside Andrew.
“Oh, God. You feel wonderful,” Andrew murmured, holding his body steady so he could lift a hand and caress Darius’s beard-prickled cheek. He couldn’t stop smiling.
“Believe me,” Darius said. “So do you. You’re hot, a furnace around me. I’m not sure I can last long.”
Andrew’s cock had risen again, pressing hard and needy between their bodies. Every movement Darius made, every time he thrust, he ground their groins and bellies together, compressing Andrew’s hard shaft.
Gasping for air, Andrew tipped his head back, gulping in cool drafts as Darius took him higher, working him. When he looked back, the fierce determination on Darius’s face nearly undid him. “How are you holding back?”
“Believe me, it’s not easy.”
Darius pushed in again, his drives steady and sure, grazing against the most sensitive areas inside, places Andrew had not been aware of before. His only other male lover had not concerned himself with Andrew’s pleasure. If Andrew came, it had been because he could not hold back. And he had only achieved orgasm with a woman when he’d concentrated on her, closed his eyes, and pretended she was someone else.
Thinking of his late wife did the trick and gave him a little time to enjoy his lover. But he could not think of anything. He rushed toward his inevitable crescendo, when his body convulsed and hot liquid spurted between them.
At the same time, Darius buried his face in the pillow, shouted Andrew’s name as he reached the culmination of their loving. He throbbed, his body jerking as he gave Andrew everything he had.
They lay together, panting, until Andrew cupped Darius’s cheek and brought him close for another kiss. He thrust his tongue into Darius’s mouth greedily, as if ready to start again. But not yet. His body shook with strain, but of the most exquisite kind.
Now it was his turn to care for his lover. Darius had ridden himself hard. That he wasn’t lying in this bed snoring his head off was a testament to his stamina. Or maybe it was his determination and desire.
Andrew got out of bed and found the hot water. They were going to need it.