“Did you really?”
“Well, I had Beauchamp’s help. He’s the land agent. I’m not a total idiot, you know.”
“Yes, I do know.” He was far from it.
“I just didn’t want to think about all that.”
“Understandable.”
They stood in silence for a moment. “Why did you come here, Julian?”
“I had the most improbable story from London about a duel and thought you might shed some light on the matter.” That wasn’t why he had come. He could have written to Standish and gotten a fair account. Hell, he didn’t even need to do that. All he had to do was think about it for ten seconds and he understood what Courtenay and Standish had planned. There were babies in their cradles who could have figured it out. “Since I know you weren’t having an affair with Eleanor, I assume somebody overheard that set-to in the drawing room and wondered if there was another possible pairing of lovers in the house. So you and Standish spread a different rumor to save my neck. In the process, you’ve cemented your reputation as a scoundrel, Standish is now a cuckold, and Eleanor a wanton woman. I owe you a thanks.”
“I don’t want to see you pilloried,” Courtenay said, so low it was a whisper. “You must know that I’d do more than that to spare you the danger.” And Julian did know, so he gave a brief nod of his head. “Besides,” Courtenay went on, “you ought to thank Standish. He’s the one who has to shoot me next week.”
Julian tried not to shudder. “Nonsense. You’ll delope. You’ve educated me on this process already, you recall.”
“Indeed. There won’t be blood. But,” Courtenay said, a gleam of understanding in his eyes, “you already knew that. So why did you come, Julian? I’m not going to ask again.” He was giving Julian a chance to... to what? Apologize? Declare himself?
“I...” His voice faltered, and then he said the only thing he could admit to. “I’ve come to discuss the terms of that debt you entered into the last time I visited Carrington,” he said, in case they were overheard, and also because he knew Courtenay would understand immediately. Indeed, Courtenay’s eyes flared. He had promised to fuck Julian, and now Julian thought he had a good chance of collecting.
“Ah. Well, I do make it a point to pay my debts when they come due.” He held Julian’s gaze for another moment. There was something like disappointment in Courtenay’s eyes. “But is that all?”
It wasn’t. Not even close. “I...” He shook his head. The rest of it would have to wait until they had some privacy.
Courtenay frowned. It likely said nothing favorable about his character that he was abandoning his efforts at a useful life to once again waste his time in bed.
But this time, with great determination and the headache-inducing tallying of funds, he and his bailiff had hired people to do the work that needed to be done on Carrington, and had plans to visit his other properties and do the same. So, Courtenay’s momentarily stepping away wasn’t abdicating his responsibility.
And fucking Julian was about the farthest thing from a waste of time he could imagine. Even if they never saw one another again, even if Julian truly believed the worst of Courtenay, Courtenay couldn’t believe that a moment spent with the man he loved was truly a waste. Some other time he’d figure out how to love more wisely, but for now he loved Julian and that was all there was to it. However long he had with Julian, he’d accept those hours and minutes like a gift from a God who hadn’t always been overly generous with him.
If Julian had ridden over an hour for a fucking, then that’s what he’d get.
Julian turned his horse over to a stable hand and Courtenay led the way to the dower house, the backs of their hands occasionally brushing together. Courtenay didn’t even try to make conversation.
“Here,” Courtenay said gruffly when they approached the path that led to the dower house.
“Here?” Julian echoed, in that way Courtenay had once found irritating and now found endearing beyond all belief.
“I’ve been clearing the cobwebs and making it habitable.” It wasn’t grand, wasn’t nearly as fine as Julian’s London lodgings. He held the door open, watching with surely disproportionate anxiety as Julian entered.
Courtenay had pulled the dust covers off the furniture himself, and had assigned a few of the housemaids his mother had left behind the task of making the place reasonably ready. It was spare but tidy, with few furnishings but fresh paint and plenty of light. Although he was still staying at the main house until Radnor arrived, he had his books shelved here, and it felt like a place that could be his home in a future that didn’t feel bleak. But for now all that mattered was that it was private: no servants, no chance of anyone intruding on them.
Julian turned around in a slow circle and Courtenay found that he was holding his breath, waiting for a reaction.
“This is the house your mother declined to live in? It’s perfectly lovely. I suppose she has terrible taste along with all her other flaws.” He looked over his shoulder at Courtenay, an adorably amused expression on his face. “How long did it take for the lot of them to clear out of here after you arrived?”
Courtenay laughed, giddy again with the thrill of Julian’s thorns and prickles being used to protect him. “Less than two days.” He took hold of the sleeve of Julian’s coat and pulled him close so they were chest to chest. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do.” He was looking so intently at Courtenay that it seemed he was referring to more than the dower house.
“Now, I have a debt to discharge, it seems.”
Julian’s gaze cut away. “I wasn’t being quite serious about that, you know.”
The bulge in his breeches argued otherwise. “Too bad. You rode all this way for my cock and I intend to give it to you.”
Julian made a sound low in his throat. “Is that something you’d like to do today? I don’t want to presume.” He sounded like he was talking about borrowing a book or staying for supper.
