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Derek scoffed. “Why should it matter whom I marry when you will most certainly not be here to witness it? You have not been here insevenfucking years, yet you feel as if you are entitled to come ambling back into my life making demands!”
Surprisingly, Jonas kept his outward composure, even though he felt as if something deep inside him had begun to crumble to pieces. “This has nothing to do with you and I. This is about Julia.”
“This has everything to do with us!” Derek thundered, pacing away from Jonas toward the hearth. Folding his arms over his chest, he stared into the dying embers. “You left me—without saying good-bye I might add—and could only be prompted to return because you heard I might be interested in marrying your sister. The only way I could convince you to look at me, or speak to me, or even breathe the same air as me was to rope you into this … this … I no longer know what this is, other than the act of a desperate fool. I do not know why I thought bringing you back to London would change anything. In the end, nothing has changed. I am still desperately in love with you, but you can hardly stand to look at me. When I touch you, you flinch away.”
Jonas felt the weight of Derek’s words with the force of a fist to the gut. He had not considered their situation from his former lover’s perspective until now. He had been so confused, so terrified, that he had run away without looking back. Because of the reputation Derek had cultivated, Jonas assumed he’d moved on as easily as a bee flits from blossom to blossom. How else could one explain the string of lovers he had taken since Jonas had left London? Of course Jonas knew Derek had loved him all those years ago, but time and distance had tricked Jonas into assuming that love had been fleeting.
“I … I had my reason for leaving,” he stammered. Even to his own ears the words were pitiful. They did not begin to explain how he felt.
“I might have understood if you had bothered to explain them,” Derek whispered, his voice thick and hoarse. He was suddenly a broken man, relieved of the devil-may-care facade he so effortlessly showed the world.
“I did not think you cared to know,” Jonas replied. “Word of your exploits reached me, even as far in the country as I had buried myself. You did not seem to miss me.”
Derek chuckled, though the sound held no humor. It was a rough, dark sound, heavy with pain. “We all have our ways of coping with pain and loss. Some men take solace in drink or cards. Others in whores. I can assure you that I drowned myself in all three, and still never found relief from the unrelenting ache of knowing I had lost you forever. Even worse than that was the pain of wondering if I were only a boyhood lark to you, or if you ever cared for me at all the way that I cared for you.”
I loved you more than anything. Despite my better efforts, I never stopped.
The words sat on the edge of Jonas’ tongue, but he found himself unable to utter them. That familiar, paralyzing fear clutched at him from within, wrapping around his windpipe and making it impossible to breathe, let alone speak. How could he explain to Derek that it was not his heart that had failed him, but his cowardly spine?
When Jonas failed to respond, Derek turned his back. The firelight cast his shadow against the floor and Jonas’ chest ached at the slump of his shoulders and the droop of his bowed head.
“Go,” Derek murmured without so much as a glance over his shoulder. “I will not hold you to our wager. It is clear that even if your body wants me,youvery clearly do not.”
This was the opening Jonas had been looking for; a way out. He ought to take the chance to run away from Perdition without a look back, grateful that his time here had not exposed him to public scandal. Yet, something in Jonas violently rebelled against Derek’s dismissal. But if he stayed, what could he do? What could he say?
“Julia is safe from me,” Derek added with a dismissive wave of his hand. “When it feels appropriate to do so, I will put all rumors of a betrothal to rest. I am certain she will have no shortage of suitors clamoring for her attention once I am no longer seen as a serious contender. I will remove myself from her life, and by extension, yours as well. I hope you will be happy, Jo.”
Jonas remained where he stood for a moment longer, staring at Derek’s back in dejected shock. He had not expected Derek to give up so easily, and without rubbing his two victories in Jonas’ face. He understood that to leave now without saying a word would prove a mistake. However, Jonas could find no true reason to stay. Derek had asked him to leave, and short of standing in the middle of the room like a mute idiot, Jonas had no way to persuade him otherwise.
With a heavy heart and a great deal of effort, Jonas trudged toward the door. He hesitated long enough for one final look back, finding that Derek’s shoulders were now stiff and squared, his head resolutely turned away. For the first time in seven years, Jonas felt the immense grief of losing not only his lover, but his best friend. His eyes burned with unshed tears as the door clicked shut behind him, and by the time he had stumbled out into the taproom Jonas could hardly see through them. Blinking against the onslaught of emotion, he ignored the whores calling out for his attention and the men at the card tables looking for a fourth player to round out their game. He stumbled into the night, wrapping his arms around himself to ward off the chill of the night air. Before long, he realized the iciness spreading through his veins wasn’t caused by external forces. He felt as if something had been severed inside him, cutting off the flow of warm blood to his extremities.
Jonas wandered for what felt like hours until he found himself at home, shuffling to his bedroom on heavy feet and falling into bed fully dressed. Even with his eyes squeezed shut and his face pressed into the pillow, he could not chase the image of Derek, forlorn and rejected but still so heartbreakingly beautiful, from his mind.
Derek squintedagainst the afternoon light as he stepped down from the carriage and offered a hand to Julia, who sat poised to exit behind him. His eyes stung in the bright light of a cloudless day, and the pounding in his temples that had greeted him this morning showed no sign of abating. Exhaustion made his limbs feel heavy and detached from his body, and despair had sunk his heart into the pit of his stomach.
When Jonas had left him alone in Giles’s room last night, Derek had been seized with the urge to go chasing after him. He had felt wrung dry and vulnerable after their simultaneous self-pleasure and allowed his mouth to run away with him. He had forgotten the goal of his game and the result he had been aiming for. Derek had ruined everything and chased Jonas away. But then, if Derek had continued as planned, the result might have been the same. The moments following his and Jonas’ mutual climax had opened Derek’s eyes to what he had refused to see for himself. Jonas might desire him physically, and might even care for him, but he would never allow himself to love Derek. The days of their youth had passed, and the passion of their grand tour had died. Derek realized he was chasing a phantom dream and causing himself more pain in the process. How could he have been such a fool, expecting that he might come out of this unscathed? He had been the one to put a stop to their wager last night, yet still felt as if his heart had been ripped in two.
Every time Derek allowed himself to dwell on the events of the night before, he could clearly see the horror on Jonas’ face. The fear and revulsion that had marred his rugged features and the recoil of his body away from Derek’s had torn open old wounds. Derek had thought himself healed but had discovered to his detriment that this was not the case. He still ached from Jonas’ abandonment, which was now compounded by the realization that he simply wasn’t wanted by the man he loved. The sooner Derek concluded his business with Julia, the sooner he could leave London. Perhaps Jonas had had the right idea, finding a place in the country to hide from the world. Derek had grown weary of putting on a facade for society, pretending he was not dying of loneliness and a broken heart by degrees. Perhaps a fresh start someplace new would allow him to move on with his life.
But first, this blasted picnic he had been invited to. Derek had forgotten about the event until this morning. Having drunk himself into a stupor the night before, he had tossed and turned in Giles’ bed for hours. His friend had returned to the chamber after a night of entertaining the patrons of Perdition to find Derek sprawled atop the counterpane.
“You look pitiful,” Giles had remarked, though the sympathy in his eyes was evident. “Did it not go well?”
“It is over, Giles,” Derek had slurred. “I chose to forfeit.”
“Would it make you feel better if I sucked you off?” Giles had offered with a devilish smile. “I will not charge you for the pleasure and no one need know.”
For some reason Giles’ offer had amused him. Chuckling into the pillow, Derek waved him off. “While I appreciate the offer, I must politely decline. However, I do believe I am on the verge of losing consciousness in your bed.”
“That is quite all right, my friend. I’ll seek my rest elsewhere. Sleep well.”
Giles had given up his bed for Derek and had even ensured a pot of tea and toast had been delivered to him from Perdition’s kitchen the next morning. Wearing last night’s clothing, Derek had wandered home in hopes of cloistering himself away from the world for the rest of his life. However, a note from Julia had awaited him, reminding him of the day’s commitment. A group of her friends had planned an outing to a pleasure garden for a picnic—an event that was nothing more than an excuse for assignations between betrothed or nearly-betrothed couples. Most of the invited guests were either engaged to be married or were assumed to soon announce their betrothals. Chaperones were still a necessity, of course, but the pleasure garden offered many opportunities for privacy with its wooded outskirts and intimate, mock ruins surrounded by flora and fauna.
Speaking of chaperones … Derek did his best not to look back as he led Julia away from the carriage. The hulking figure of Jonas surely loomed in the opening, and Derek did not think he could look upon his former lover without his eyes giving away every secret of his heart. Jonas’ presence had been a surprise, though Derek realized he ought to have expected it. While Derek had given his word that he would not pursue Julia’s hand in marriage, it was clear that Jonas did not believe him. Or perhaps he wanted to see for himself that Derek was laying the foundation for a clean, scandal-free break.
Whatever the case, when Julia had arrived at Derek’s flat in the Thacker carriage, Jonas had been seated inside, stone-faced and silent. Julia had given him an apologetic look, then a reassuring smile. Derek took no comfort from that smile. He did not have the heart to inform Julia that their ruse had been all for naught.
No, not for nothing, Derek thought as he guided Julia down a gravel path through the trees. He had noticed Viscount Gilbanks increasing his efforts to gain Julia’s notice. The man had tripped all over himself at the ball bringing her champagne and ushering her to the dance floor. It would seem his jealousy had been stoked, just as Julia had wanted. Now, all Derek had to do was ensure that Gilbanks became desperate enough to propose as soon as possible. Once Julia had accepted his offer, Derek would be free to quit London. He might stay away for good.
