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“I remember that night,” Derek whispered, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “We had dinner like we always did. I had the mutton, and you chose the partridge. Dessert that night was … something … something you really liked.”
“Pound cake,” Jonas supplied, tears brimming in his eyes. “With fresh strawberries. Mother Bingsley made the best pound cake.”
Derek shook his head in bewilderment. “I remember the raid. The constables came crashing through the back door downstairs. The entire place was thrown into chaos.”
Jonas’ face flushed hot as he remembered the moment he had become aware of the raid. He and Derek had been so caught up in one another that they might have gone unaware of the danger if not for the noise. Over the sounds of Derek’s moans of pleasure, Jonas had heard the cacophony of cries and breaking furniture. Pounding footsteps had beaten against the stairs and upper floor until the coffeehouse trembled on its foundation.
“I tried to lead you down the back stairs,” Derek continued, staring off into the distance as if watching the memory unfold before him. “But you said it would be better to separate, so I went alone down the back stairs—the only exit the constables had not discovered. I ran down the alley and into the night, thinking that if I could make it to your flat and wait for you there, everything would be all right. But you never came.”
“I did return to my flat, eventually,” Jonas replied. “Only, it was nearly sunrise by the time I arrived, and you had already gone.”
Derek edged closer, the anger in his eyes melting away to be replaced by anxious curiosity. He closed the distance between them slowly, as if afraid Jonas would bolt like a frightened deer. But he could not know how badly Jonas needed to be touched right now, as he stood on the edge of laying his soul bare. When Derek clasped both his hands, Jonas clung to them.
“My dear Jo,” Derek whispered. “What did they do to you?”
Derek heldhis breath and waited for Jonas to shed light on the secrets of their last night together. Curiosity over what had happened once he’d parted ways with Jonas had always gnawed at him. Going seven years without knowing just what drove Jonas away had been torture. Now that he would have the truth revealed to him, Derek was equal parts nervous and relieved. Even if he and Jonas walked away from one another for good, Derek could move on having learned the reason for Jonas’ abandonment.
Jonas squeezed his hands so tight they ached, but Derek clung to him just as tightly, offering his silent support.
“After you disappeared down those stairs, I tried to find another way out,” Jonas began. “The front stairway to the taproom was impenetrable. Every man who ran that way was laid upon by the constables. I rushed back into the room and tried the window, but it had been sealed shut somehow. I tried with all my strength but could not manage to get it open. So, I reached for the fireplace poker and used it to break the glass. The drop to the ground was manageable, and I supposed that if I could land without snapping my ankles, I could manage to escape.”
Derek held his breath, suspense building in his gut as he imagined Jonas, desperate, frightened, and ready to leap from a window to avoid the shame and scandal of being arrested at a molly house. Derek himself had made a clean escape, following a few other men through darkened streets and tight, concealed alleys until the constables gave up the chase. He had always wondered how Jonas had fared.
“I hung from that window casement with my legs dangling, trying to work up the courage to let myself fall, when a constable came dashing into the room. He found me hanging from that window and reached through to grasp me by my wrists. As I hung there, kicking and flailing, he tried to pull me back into the room.”
Derek issued a derisive snort and rolled his eyes. “He couldn’t have been strong enough to manage it. You are as solid as an oak tree.”
Jonas shrugged. “I did not make it easy for him. I managed to free one of my hands and used it to defend myself. It hurt like the devil to be suspended that way by one arm, and I was torn between wanting to climb back through the window or force him to drop me. I managed to dislodge his hold on my arm, but not before my shoulder had torn from its socket. I landed badly, and injured my left ankle, but I was free … or so I thought. As I went limping down the alley, I heard footsteps approach and tried to hide in the shadows. It was impossible. I am too large and one of the constables carried a lantern, which revealed me to them. I tried to run, but on a hurt ankle and with my shoulder in such pain, I was weak. Three of them overtook me.”
“God’s blood,” Derek whispered. “If I had known … Jo, I would have come back for you.”
Jonas used his hold on Derek’s hands to yank him closer, until they were nearly nose to nose. His breath was harsh and warm against Derek’s cheek when he spoke, smelling of tea and sugar. “No. That was the last thing you should have done. I did not want them to catch you, too.”
“What did they do with you?”
“I was dragged out of the alley and thrown into the back of a wagon crowded with other men. While Mother Bingsley wept and wrung her hands, cursing the constables as cruel and godless, they drove the wagon away.”
“I made the rounds after you went missing, afraid you had been locked away in gaol, but no one could tell me where you were. You must have escaped, or I would have known otherwise.”
“I did,” Jonas admitted. “The weight of so many bodies in the carriage made it slow going. Even with constables surrounding it, they would find it impossible to contain us. One man went after the driver and then chaos erupted. The horses spooked and tried to bolt, causing the wagon to overturn. Dozens of bodies rolled into the street and the constables fell upon them. But there were too few of them, and too many of us. The majority of those arrested that night managed to escape. Despite my injuries, I managed to find a place to hide. I slept in the gutter with the beggars, covering myself in mud and coal ash, hoping I would be mistaken for one of them if a constable should come searching. I did not have the courage to find my way home until sunrise.”
Tears spilled over Jonas’ lower lashes and splashed his cheek, each drop sending a ripple of agony through Derek. Guilt assailed him as he realized that Jonas had taken the full weight of a consequence meant for the both of them. Bugger what Jonas had said; he ought to have been there.
“I do not understand,” Derek said. “You escaped. No one ever knew.”
Jonas shook his head. “Someonedidknow. While they were dragging me to that wagon one of the constables told me that they had been spying on the patrons of Mother Bingsley’s for weeks. They had seen us coming and going from the coffeehouse together, knew that the place was a secret molly house. They caught enough men in the act of sodomy that night to make a case that all the members must be guilty of something. ‘We saw you, all right,’ the constable said, ‘you and that blackamoor chap. Couple of backgammon players, indecent and immoral. By morning, your shame shall be exposed to the decent people of this city. We will cleanse London of the scourge of your kind.’”
Bile rose in the back of Derek’s throat. He clearly remembered the aftermath of that raid. A dozen names had been printed in every gossip rag circulating London. Most of them had been from prominent families of theton.Their families had received the cut direct everywhere they had gone, and the men had hidden themselves away in shame. The four of them who had been caught by the constables in the throes of intercourse had been forced to endure the pillory, to be pelted by rocks, bricks, and rotten vegetables by onlookers. One of the men had lost an eye in the violence of that day.
“Jo,” he whispered, his voice cracking with oncoming tears. “You should have come to me. We could have puzzled out a way through it together.”
“That was the last thing I should have done,” Jonas protested with a sniffle. The tears were streaming down his face now, unchecked. “I had no way of knowing whether those constables knew who I was, or who you were. There were several other men who had not been caught … men who might have exposed either of us to avoid the same fate. We were in danger of discovery and like the young fools we were, we acted as if nothing could touch us.”
“We were in love,” Derek argued, bowing his head until his brow rested against Jonas’ knuckles. “We had one another. We could have survived anything.”
“We would not have survived being exposed to the world!” Jonas said. He took Derek by the shoulders and shook him as if trying to jolt some sense into him. “I had to think of my family, of your family.”
“Hang my family.”
