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Viscount Gilbanks was also close at hand, and when Jonas was not watching Derek, he was watching the young lord who so obviously carried a torch for his sister. The viscount seemed annoyed by Derek’s very presence. The fool had nearly lost his chance with her and would likely only succeed because Derek had chosen to cease his pursuit.
Taking another bite of his pie, Jonas scowled. He had spent the previous night lying awake in bed and ruminating over his last moments with Derek. Thinking of the intense pleasure of spending his seed in his hand while watching Derek fuck his fist only made Jonas’ cock spring back to life, so he turned his mind to other matters. Derek had vowed to abandon his pursuit of Julia, which was exactly what Jonas had wanted. However, it was the ease with which Derek had relented that did not sit well with Jonas. He had seemed determined to secure Julia’s hand in marriage. Whether because he was lonely, or wished to hurt Jonas for leaving him, Derek had staked his claim quite clearly. Despite the years that had passed, Jonas still felt as if he knew Derek as well as he knew himself, and Derek did not relent once he had made clear his intentions. So, why had he given up?
The nagging question whispered in the back of his mind and persisted throughout the luncheon. Jonas did his best to engage in small talk and pretend to enjoy himself, but inwardly he was a jumbled mass of confused thoughts. What did Derek want, exactly? If marriage to Julia was what Derek truly desired, he would not have relented to Jonas’ demand without winning his little game. Jonas might still have won the final round, but the odds had been decidedly in Derek’s favor. Which must mean that Derek’s game had not been about Julia at all.
The realization sent Jonas ramrod straight from his relaxed position on the ground, as if someone had jammed a needle into his spine. His eyes became unfocused, and he could hear the roar of blood in his ears, like a rushing waterfall. He needed to talk to Derek, but there were too many people about.
As if Providence smiled upon him, someone suggested a walk to explore the gardens. Dusting off their hands and leaving the remnants of their meal for the silent servants positioned a discreet distance away, they began breaking off into pairs and trios, heading in different directions. The pleasure garden offered several paths, some of which snaked into the thick cover of trees and disappeared from sight. Julia went off in the company of Lord Gilbanks and a young lady Jonas knew to be his cousin. Jonas was not distressed to let Julia out of his sight, content in the knowledge that she would not be alone with the viscount. Perhaps a moment away from the rest of the group would give the viscount a chance to declare his intentions.
Instead of going after Julia, he followed Derek toward one of the gravel paths leading into the woods, his stride long and determined. No one paid any heed to them as Jonas grasped Derek by the arm and steered him toward the trees.
“We must talk alone. Now.”
Derek’s arm tensed in his hold, but he kept pace with Jonas until they had wandered into the wild thicket surrounding the gardens. While the others explored the faux ruins and man-made water features of the landscape, they were essentially alone.
Derek snatched his arm from Jonas’ hold and spun on him, his mouth tight and grim. “What the devil are you about, Thacker?”
“I have been a blind fool,” Jonas said, his words rushing out on shortened breaths. His chest heaved as he struggled for air and composure. “The truth has been in front of me this entire time, but I could not see it. No, I … I did not wish to see it.”
Derek furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about?”
“You,” Jonas replied, pointing an accusing finger. “You were never interested in marrying Julia. Not really.”
“Was it my love of cock that gave me away?” Derek drawled, rolling his eyes. “What does it matter now?”
“It matters! You wanted my attention, and you gained it by devious means.”
“Perhaps I would not have had to stoop to devilry if the conventional means had worked. I must have written you a hundred letters, and every one of them went unread. I would not be surprised to learn that you cast them into the fire without opening them.”
Jonas ran a hand through his hair, frustration and longing coiling around each other in the pit of his gut like writhing snakes. He could not decide if he was angrier with himself for falling for Derek’s trick, or with Derek for orchestrating this entire thing.
“I read the letters,” Jonas said. “Every single one. I have been aware of every detail of your life for the past seven years, as your letters have arrived every three to four months without fail. I wept when you sent news of your mother’s death.”
“She was as cold and nurturing as a viper,” Derek scoffed. “I hardly knew her.”
“And yet you found her passing noteworthy enough to include in your letter.”
“Thacker, if there is a point to this line of questioning—”
“So, it is Thacker now, is it?”
“Yes!” Derek exclaimed, his face hardening with fury. “Yes, it is Thacker now, because Thacker is who you have chosen to become. You see, the Jo I knew was loving and kind and warm. He would never have abandoned me without a look back or treated me like a leper because I touched his shoulder. If I did not know you so well, I would assume you hate me, but I have come to realize that the person you hate the most is yourself.”
Yet again, Jonas felt as if he’d been physically struck. He pressed a hand to his middle as if staunching a bullet wound. There was no blood, but Jonas felt drained all the same.
“It was never about me, was it?” Derek prodded when Jonas remained silent. “All this time I assumed that it was. I thought that if I could bring you here and force you to face me, I could win you back. But last night I saw the truth. I thought I was the one you were running from, but you have been running from yourself all this time.”
Jonas squeezed his eyes shut and digested Derek’s words, difficult as they were to hear. He felt as if he might be physically ill, as every truth he had ever pushed down into the depths of himself had begun forcing their way up his throat. There was only one way to find relief.
“We were seen,” he whispered. “After we returned to London. That night at the coffee house … the raid …”
Derek looked as if he had seen a ghost. “Someone saw us?”
Jonas nodded, jerking at his cravat to free his restricted airway. The pressure in his throat had built to an unbearable degree, and he had to say the words he had been holding back for so long. But damn if it was not the most difficult thing he’d ever had to do. The memory of his last night with Derek was as clear as if it had happened yesterday rather than seven years ago.
After returning home from their Grand Tour, Derek and Jonas had found themselves longing for a place of their own. There were brothels aplenty in London, but none like the one they had inhabited in Paris. Besides, the men of their family’s circles frequented those brothels, and Derek and Jonas could not risk being discovered together. So, they had taken to the less fashionable neighborhoods of the city, slinking in and out of the shadows to steal a moment alone here or there.
Then, they had come across Mother Bingsley’s Coffeehouse among the piazzas of Covent Garden; a place where men could share dinner or drinks, play at cards, and make use of the upper rooms for private assignations. Ironic, how similar this place seemed to the Perdition Club now that Jonas thought back on it. While this coffee house lacked the opulence of Perdition, it had served as a safe haven for those with memberships … those whose desires could destroy their lives. Jonas and Derek had spent all of their free time there, free to be open with one another, safe in the knowledge that their secret would be kept safe. Until a gang of constables had set upon the place in a raid.
