Page 5

How could he defend his father so readily?

“We are all fools when it comes to horses.” Edenwick’s defence added fury to the raging torrent of boiling anger in Adam’s gut. He couldn’t speak. He stood, and his chair toppled over, a violent clatter in the dining room.

“You.” Adam pointed at the Earl. “You need to see something. And you, your Grace, need to talk to Sebastian about the previous Lord Milnes-Wilkes.” He stormed off before he did something he’d regret. One didn’t argue with a Duke in public, or an Earl. His acceptance into White’s was highly conditional, and even with rage burning his blood, he was aware of the consequences of his behaviour, at least where people could see him.

He didn’t bother waiting to collect his greatcoat, just marched out into the miserable December weather with sleet cutting into his face like pinpricks. He’d gone several blocks before the cold began to overcome the way his blood boiled, and eventually he’d cooled down enough to hail a hackney. For years, he’d played games with the ton, charming them, so he could help women. He hadn’t been able to help Rose and he tried so hard to make up for it, and now what? Now he’d put his cock in the mouth of his enemy’s son, and the worst part of all, he’d liked it. Shame covered him and he climbed into a hackney, sitting on the edge of the seat with his leg bouncing.

A knock on his bedroom door clanged in his head. Had he fallen asleep in a bell tower? It was too loud, too persistent, and his whole face ached. He cracked open one eye. No, fuck, he was at home. In bed, still clothed with an empty bottle of port on his bedside table. It slowly came back to him. The anger at Edenwick and the bloody Earl defending his father had been too much. He’d come home, thrown himself on his bed, and foolishly drank himself into a stupor. The knocking became more insistent.

“What?”

“Mr Milnes, you have a visitor.” His butler, Wilkes, was also a Duke St orphan. As soon as he could afford staff, he employed them from the same orphanage he’d been at, training them and helping get them into the best houses with the best jobs. It was an odd piece of irony that they’d both been named after the same horrible man.

“Fuck. Send them away.”

“I tried that. He is very determined.”

“Fine. Come in.” He rolled over and closed his eyes, but the headache didn’t dissipate. Served him right, really. It’d been years since he’d needed to hide his rage, alone with a bottle. He was so careful to never take out his anger on others, and this was the only way he’d found that helped when it all became too overwhelming. He tried, again, to sit up. He was getting too old to manage anger by trying to drink himself into oblivion. Somewhere in the back of his thudding brain, a little idea formed; he could bury himself in the Earl’s ass instead. Sex was the other great way he’d discovered to use up his excess passions.

“Mr Milnes.” Wilkes’ nose wriggled comically. “You need a bath. I will ask his lordship if he can wait. You can’t see him in this state.”

Thank God for brilliant staff.

“Make him go away.” It didn’t matter which lord it was; maybe his luck had finally run out and all the men he’d set out to ruin finally figured out that it was him. A tiny part of him hoped it was Lord Milnes-Wilkes, which was completely fucked up. He vaguely remembered telling him something important just before he’d left White’s, but the red mist had risen by then and he wasn’t quite sure what he’d said. How did that man strip him of all his control?

Chapter 5

When Mr Milnes had demanded that he had to see something, Theo’s curiosity had spiked into an anxiety that meant he hadn’t slept at all. He’d gained Mr Milnes’ address from Edenwick who appeared to be just as curious about the matter as himself, wanting to know how they’d met. It wasn’t until Theo had gotten home after dinner that he’d noticed that his jacket buttons were done up unevenly and his hair was in disarray—from Mr Milnes’ hands—and well, Edenwick must have guessed what had happened between them. Being in general disarray while leaving White’s wasn’t unusual. Emerging from under the staircase with another man was.

“My lord, Mr Milnes will be ready to see you in about half an hour. You can wait here, or perhaps you want to return then?” The butler was very young, barely out of his teens.

“I will wait.” The room was sparse, typical of rented rooms with reasonable furniture but nothing too personal. His own London house should have been warmer and more welcoming than this, but it had a dissolute look thanks to the gaps where the paintings used to be. His father had sold off most of the estate while Theo had been on the Peninsula working with the newly titled Duke of Wellington as a map expert.

“Should I order you some tea?”

“Yes.” It would give him something to do. He took a book off a shelf and began to flick through it; it was a treatise on Renaissance Italian art. And then the tea arrived, so he poured that, and sipped some. After a while, he stood up and stretched. The room was just long enough that he could do a bowling stride, so he loosened up with a few practise versions of his action. It had been several years since he last played cricket, and anyone watching would be able to tell. Embarrassment had him sitting down again, sipping more tea, and attempting to read the book. Finally, Mr Milnes entered the room. His hair was still wet as if he’d just risen from a bath. Theo’s cock swelled and he crossed his legs.

“My lord, what brings you here?” Mr Milnes’ voice was rougher than yesterday and it sent heat spiralling over his skin.

“You.” He paused, meaning to explain that Mr Milnes had told him he needed to show him something, but before he could continue, Mr Milnes pounced, pushing him back into the chair. They kissed, as needy and desperate as last time, all teeth and tongue and breathy pants, as Mr Milnes’ hands spread all over him. Theo grasped hungrily at the man too, pulling his shirt out of his pants, and pushing his hands against Mr Milnes’ warm skin. A shiver went through him, right into their kiss.

“Wait a moment.” Mr Milnes strode away, shirt untucked, and damp hair hanging loose, curling against the nap of his neck. He tapped on a door and leaned through. “Wilkes. Please find an errand to do. I need an uninterrupted hour with his lordship.”

Heat crept up Theo’s face and he jumped up. How could Mr Milnes be so forthright and open with his butler? Wasn’t it obvious that they were going to fuck? Oh God, he hoped they were going to fuck. His blush deepened as the crude word rang loudly in his head.

“You said I needed to see something?” He hoped it was Mr Milnes’ cock. He’d tasted it and touched it, but the light in the cupboard hadn’t been great and he wanted to see it in all its glory.

“Did you come back for more of this?” Mr Milnes grabbed his crotch crudely and Theo’s blush grew from a warmth into a burning furnace behind his cheeks. He swallowed and nodded.

“You blush so prettily. How am I supposed to resist you?” Mr Milnes stroked his face, gentle, just like he had on the ice when they’d met, and Theo’s knees softened.

“Don’t resist. We both want this.” Theo had never felt anything quite so enticing with anyone else. The air crackled between them, like a lightning storm, all energy and desire, threatening to lash them both. Afterwards, he’d be wrecked, drowned by the storm, but he didn’t care. He wanted to feel it all and screw the consequences.

“Show me.” Mr Milnes walked towards one of the doors and leaned against the frame, ankles crossed over each other, and waved at Theo. He licked his lips, then walked towards Mr Milnes, who waved languidly, guiding Theo into the room. It was a bedroom—sumptuous and richly coloured—in complete contrast to the dull drawing room, and the oversized bed beckoned Theo. After years on the Peninsula sleeping on a cot in a tent, he’d invested in his own bed in London, selling a painting he'd found in the attic that his father hadn’t managed to pillage yet, but this bed... goodness, this bed must be custom made.

“Show me how much you want me,” Mr Milnes said, and Theo spun around as the man shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it aside, then went back to leaning against the door frame. Theo gulped. Mr Milnes had a perfect chest, covered in thick hair, with strong shoulders and a tilt of his chin that made Theo want to capitulate. He unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off, then undid his cravat, followed by his shirt. Mr Milnes didn’t move, still leaning against the door frame, although his expression changed from sardonic into focused. Theo had never really performed for someone like this, and it reminded him of the days when he used to stride onto the oval to take the new ball in his hand. This time, a crowd wasn’t watching, only one man. One man that he wanted to impress. He left his shirt on, loose and unbuttoned, and dragged his hand down his chest. Mr Milnes gasped. Yes, like that.

Theo bit the inside of his cheek to stop a smug smile, and then slowly undid his breeches, peeling them down to his mid-thigh. Mr Milnes’ lips parted and his gaze focused on Theo’s exposed stiff cock.