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Aleksey thought about this for a moment, tossing the words around in all his languages, and concluded, annoyed, “That means the same.”
Ben shook his head. “Nope. Doesn’t. It’scompletelydifferent.”
“For f—I do speak English, Benjamin. I actually do have a degree.” He didn’t, and Nikolas’s had been taken in Danish, obviously, but semantics be fucked. It was just so infuriating.
Ben replaced his glass on the table a little more forcibly than necessary. “Have you finished assessing me yet, sir? Because it’s been a very long day. I’m gonna hit the sack.” Ben’s glower was clearly not feigned.
“Tired, Benjamin?”
“Yes.” Distinct pause. “I am.” Aleksey heard theof youas loud as if Ben had spoken it.
He couldn’t resist. “Well, I hope you have everything you need. You only have to ask. I can be a very generous…host.”
Ben rose from the table and threw down his napkin. “I don’t need a lot, sir. I never have.” With that he strode out.
Aleksey stayed on at the table. There was bottle of port to finish after all. Even he had to consume some calories each day.
He pictured Ben Rider still opposite him in the wavering light of the candles, but could not make imaginary Ben any more understandable than the real one had been.
* * *
Chapter 16
Fourteen Years Ago
The last day did not start well.
Aleksey woke sometime in the middle of the morning, wondered where he was for a moment, then just made it to his bathroom in time to throw up. Vomiting, as usual, helped nothing.
He knew something that would assist, however, and raided his stash, feeling a great deal better and able to face the day within half an hour.
It was lashing down with rain, not a usual soft Devon sou’wester, but a storm that was clearly in for the day.
He wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and not have to start this day, as he suspected that not all of his headache was due to alcohol. The other cause was probably waiting downstairs for him.
He could not for the life of him work out who had won the ridiculous dick-size war they’d engaged in last night. He wasn’t even sure Ben Rider had been in the same contest. Perhaps the man had genuinely been trying to work out what the fucking hell was going on, and when he couldn’t, he’d wisely taken himself off to bed.
Perhaps he should have told Benjamin what the score really was. It involved bed, after all. And dicks, come to that.
He dressed in something vaguely casual and suitable for a Sunday in the pissing rain in the country and went downstairs.
Ben and Philipa were in the dining room and appeared to be finishing off a full English breakfast.
Aleksey swallowed deeply and poured himself a cup of tea. His hand shook, and the cup made a tiny rattle on the saucer as he sat down.
“Ben says he’d like to come to church with me this morning. You don’t mind?”
Aleksey managed a twitch of a finger. Not his usual dismissive gesture, but he’d just noticed some kidneys bleeding into runny scrambled eggs and was struggling.
“You don’t go to church, sir? You don’t believe in God?”
Aleksey kept his eyes lowered to his cup. He didn’t want them scrutinised too closely. “I have seen no evidence of his existence, no. But I am happy for Lady Philipa to attend. She knows the boss rather well, so to speak.”
“He means our Sovereign, Ben, not God. I don’t move in divine circles just yet. Finished? Right you are, you drive.”
He was left to blessed peace and quiet. He laid his forehead softly down onto the table.
“Oh, sorry.”
