The Doctor's Discretion

by EE Ottoman

  They both sat still, and then there was the sound of water moving from behind William. He kept his head down, forehead resting against the arm that was still braced on the edge of the tub. Gave himself a moment to be quiet and content just like this.

  August climbed out of the tub and walked around to stand in front of William, beautiful and naked in the firelight. He sank to his knees on the hearthrug and kissed William, hot and demanding.

  William groaned into it, draped half out of the tub, he wrapped his arms around Augustus’ shoulders and pulled him closer as they kissed, all lips, teeth, and want.

  Augustus took William’s mouth with force until he was whimpering, his fingers clenching on Augustus’ shoulders. Augustus gentled the kiss finally and then stood.

  “Suck me,” he said, voice rough, and William’s gripped his hips to bring him close so he could.

  He watched Augustus’ face as he took him in his mouth, hands sliding up to Augustus’ ass as he did so. Augustus was still stroking across his hair, and then down his neck and back up again. He flicked the head of Augustus’ cock with his tongue and then sucked the length into his mouth. Augustus gasped when William’s tongue flicked out and traced along the bottom, taking him as deeply as he could.

  “That’s right, just like that,” Augustus said, voice soft now, stroking across William’s neck. “You know, I think I do understand the thrill of having someone come in here and find you like this, on your knees for me, so ready and wanting, even when I’ve already had you once.”

  William’s eyes flickered shut at that, taking in the pleasure of Augustus’ touch, the taste and scent of him, the thrill that went through him at Augustus’ words. The mixture of fear and desire at the idea of being caught like this, so willingly wanton, the idea of being watched as he sucked Augustus off.

  Augustus was hot and wet in his mouth from both the bath and his arousal. The muscles in his thighs trembled as William’s fingers skimmed across them.

  “Oh, William.” He stroked across the back of William’s neck and down across his shoulder blades.

  William looked up at him, flushed with passion in the firelight. The look on his face made warmth spread across William’s skin, made him feel beautiful and desirable. He pulled Augustus’ hips forward and sucked him until Augustus was shaking with it, trying to stifle cries of his own.

  He came against William’s tongue, his eyes falling shut with a long sigh. William watched until at last Augustus’ eyes opened.

  “You should get out.” Augustus’ voice was still a little rough. “The water must be cold at this point, and we’ve made a mess of the bath.”

  William gave himself another second and then he stood and stepped out of the tub, dripping water liberally onto the cloths on the floor. He stood in front of the fire, one of the cloths Augustus had set aside wrapped around him until he was at least slightly more dry.

  In the meantime, Augustus had slipped on his own shirt and trousers and dried off his hair. “Do you think you could help me carry the tub out to the kitchen door? I’ll clean up the rest.”

  Augustus couldn’t very well carry a tub that large by himself, so William grabbed one of the handles.

  Together they lugged it into the kitchen where Augustus opened the back door and tipped the water out onto the ground.

  They left the tub upside down in the kitchen, and Augustus went back to the parlor to clean up while William made his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

  The fire had been burning long enough at this point to make the room decently comfortable. He stripped off his shirt and trousers and hung them over a chair in front of the fire.

  The bedclothes were cold against his skin when he crawled into bed naked. He wished Augustus had joined him here, to help him warm. Instead, he wrapped himself up tightly and curled up onto his side, facing the fire. Given how long and eventful the day had been, it didn’t take him long to drift off to sleep.

  He dreamed of a garden filled with delicate purple flowers, and the warmth of Augustus’ skin against his own.

  CHAPTER 11

  ~

  William woke to see light creeping through the cracks between the drapes.

  He climbed out of bed and went to check on his clothes. His shirt was still a little damp around the cuffs and collar but his trousers were dry.

  Augustus must have slipped in at some point after William had fallen asleep because the rest of his clothes were folded neatly on a table by the door, and his boots were set next to each other under it.

  William dressed as best he could. In hindsight he should have gotten all the way undressed before allowing himself to be soaked last night. The clothes weren’t ruined but they did need to be ironed, and there were no servants in the house, which meant he would most likely have to do it himself. There was a polished metal mirror next to the basin stand, and he shook his head at his reflection. It had been pure foolishness; what had he been thinking? Well, he knew what he’d been thinking, but still.

  He adjusted his clothes, a lost cause at this point, and headed down the stairs.

  There was noise and the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen, so he turned down the hall in that direction.

  He expected to find Augustus or Moss there, but when he opened the door, he found a white woman bent over the hearth. Her gray hair was done up neatly in a bun, and her plain blue dress was partially hidden by an apron.

  He made to back out of the kitchen, preferably without being noticed. But the click of the door handle made her start, and she whirled away from where she’d been checking something in a cast-iron skillet with a lid.

  William cleared his throat. “Good morning. My apologies for startling you.”

  Her eyes widened as she took in the combination of his complexion and his well cut, if at the point hopelessly rumpled, clothes. “No harm done, Mister...”

  “Doctor Blackwood,” he supplied, and her eyes went even wider.

  “Sorry, Doctor.” She gave him an awkward little bob, which made his cheeks heat with his own bout of mortification.

  “I just came to see if there was any coffee.” But fleeing back upstairs would be the better option at this point.

  “Oh, of course.” She sprang into action as if released from some hold and bustled around the kitchen, getting out a full coffee service complete with a bowl of sugar, and cream in a little silver pitcher.

  William opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t necessary; if she would just pour the coffee into a cup, he’d drink it. Then he thought better of that and let her be.

  “I’ll bring it into the dining room for you,” she said once she had the service set out on its large silver tray.

  She picked it up and carried it out of the kitchen and into the dining room with William following along behind.

  “I’m sorry; I don’t think I’ve asked for your name,” he said as she set out the coffee service on the large dining table.

  “Mrs. Taylor.” She stepped back, satisfied, with a genuine smile. “Breakfast should be ready shortly.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Taylor.” William was reaching for the coffeepot when something else occurred to him. “My companions and I were sent here yesterday by Corporal Thornton, but I’m afraid I don’t really know anything about where I am. Does the corporal own this house?”

  Her brow creased, expression perplexed. “No, sir. General Nathaniel Barlow owns this house and the entire estate.”

  William’s eyebrows went up at that. “There’s more?”

  Now she looked amused. “Yes, sir. There are a hundred and fifty acres and the main house. This house is used by Mr. and Mrs. Barlow’s children if they want a quiet place to stay or if the Master is just passing through on his way somewhere else and would rather not staff the main house for just a night or two. And then, sometimes, General Barlow’s friends also stay here.” She eyed him as if trying to decide who exactly he was if not one of General Barlow’s friends.

  “Like Corporal Thornton?” Willia
m asked, and she nodded.

  “Yes, like the corporal.”

  “Thank you.”

  She gave him one last strange look but took the now empty tray back to the kitchen.

  William poured himself a cup of coffee and sat to drink it. The driver had said there would be trunks brought for them. He wondered if that meant Thornton had broken into their rooms and gone through their things, or if he’d been able to tell their sizes and somehow managed to come up with clothes in those measurements at a moment’s notice. Or which of these two options he found more disturbing.

  Augustus came through the doorway, looking just as rumpled as William but at least rested.

  His gaze alighted on the coffeepot. “Oh good, coffee.” He set about pouring himself a cup and fixing it, before sitting in the chair next to William’s.

  “Do you know who General Barlow is?”

  Augustus paused, cup halfway to his mouth. “Nathaniel Barlow? He’s retired from military service now, I think. Works for the government somehow. Alongside the Secretary of State, I believe.”

  “He owns this house.”

  “Really?” Augustus gazed around them as if expecting the surroundings to have changed somehow now that he knew who the owner was. “He’s a hero of the second war against the British—one of the loudest voices calling for us to have a standing army at the time, if I’m remembering my history correctly. Without him, the Regular Army and the Navy as I knew it wouldn’t exist. He’s not been in the public eye much since retiring, but he’s the kind of military man other military men still talk about with a great deal of respect. I thought he lived in Philadelphia, though. When he wasn’t in Washington.”

  “Evidently, he and Thornton know each other. Do you suppose they work together, like Thornton and Moss do?”

  Augustus took a contemplative sip of coffee. “I once heard that Barlow works closely with the Secretary of State. It was a senior officer, and he said it like it was supposed to mean something. I didn’t understand its significance at the time.”

  “The Secretary of State handles foreign affairs, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, but also intelligence and counterintelligence.”

  Augustus broke off as Mrs. Taylor came back into the room carrying a tray laden with serving plates of sausages and eggs, toast, and a whole apple cake. There was also butter, fruit preserves, and applesauce.

  Moss came into the dining room and poured himself a cup of coffee as Mrs. Taylor set out the serving plates and dishes of food, plus a place setting for each of them.

  She’d probably been planning to set the table properly and have it ready for them before William had interrupted her. Now, she had to do it with them all watching. He looked away from her guiltily and sipped his coffee.

  Mrs. Taylor whisked back out again, and Augustus served himself some eggs and sausages, while Moss served himself applesauce.

  There was a clatter from the front hall, the sound of people coming in. William and Augustus exchanged looks, and William set his coffee cup aside, and went to investigate the commotion.

  From the doorway, he could see down the hall to where an older man about Mrs. Taylor’s age and a boy were carrying a trunk between them.

  “I think our changes of clothes are here.” He came back and reseated himself at the table. He sent up silent prayer of thanks that he wasn’t going to have to spend the entire day in his wrinkled clothes.

  “We also need to find that list,” Augustus said. “Didn’t Thornton say a representative from the firm he hired would be around today to begin showing us properties?”

  “Yes, so we’d better be ready.” William served himself some food and started eating with purpose. He wanted to dress and shave before said broker arrived.

  “I’ll go see what’s in that trunk.” Augustus took his coffee cup with him as he left the table.

  “So besides a garden, are you looking for anything in particular?” William asked Moss.

  “Not really.” Moss said. “I haven’t seen many houses that weren’t town houses or boardinghouses, so I don’t know what to expect. It doesn’t have to be terribly big if it’s only going to be me living there, and it’s not like I can afford to house live-in servants. I’d also prefer someplace not in the middle of a town. I don’t want people asking questions and wondering about my background.”

  Augustus came back into the room with a brown coat, waistcoat, and trousers along with a crisp white shirt folded over one arm. “Clothes from my rooms and Blackwood’s came in the trunk along with these.” He held the armful out to Moss, whose face lit at the sight of them.

  He stood from the table and took the clothes from Augustus before leaving the room, probably to go upstairs and change.

  “So Thornton did break into our rooms.”

  “Probably gave some excuse to our landladies actually. God only knows what he told them—perhaps something to do with official law enforcement business. If my landlady kicks me out onto the street after all this, I’m making Thornton secure me a new room. It was not easy to find a good, clean boardinghouse in a decent part of town for so little rent.”

  William swallowed the rest of his coffee before going to retrieve his clothes and shaving kit from the trunk.

  The three of them looked much more presentable in freshly pressed clothes. Along with the brown coat, waistcoat, and wool trousers, Moss was wearing a crisp white cravat. He looked the smartest and most put together William had ever seen him. Respectable even, which had probably been Thornton’s purpose. Even if brown was not the best color for someone with hair and skin as pale as Moss’.

  Augustus had located the property list, along with some other correspondence from the brokerage firm, Tillman and Sons.

  The list was mostly locations, which meant nothing to any of them since they weren’t familiar with land or towns outside the city. There was also a brief description for each entry, noting the amount of land that came with the house and how many bedrooms each house had.

  “I don’t need five acres and four bedrooms,” Moss said examining the list as William read over his shoulder. “What would I even do with five acres of land?”

  “Farm,” Augustus suggested. “Buy some sheep?”

  Moss gave him a withering look. “I am not moving to upstate New York to become a sheep farmer.”

  “This one comes with a barn.” William frowned at the list as he read.

  “I am not going to need a barn,” Moss growled, “because I am not going to be a sheep farmer.”

  “You could always herd goats instead,” Augustus said and grinned when Moss looked like he might throw something at him.

  “We’ll do our best not to buy Moss a house with livestock.” William turned from the letter at the sound of a carriage coming up the drive. “That’s probably the broker now.”

  Moss folded the letters back up. William suddenly wondered if they should give fake names. It would probably be safer, but his mind had drawn a blank when the rap came at the door. Augustus rose to go answer it.

  After a long moment, he came back, ushering in a round-faced man with a receding hairline and wearing a neat suit.

  “Good morning.” The man beamed at them. “Am I to understand that two of you are the Doctor Winters and Doctor Moore I am expected to meet?”

  Augustus and William exchanged glances. “Yes.” William came smoothly to his feet, hand outstretched. “I’m Doctor Winters, and you met my associate Doctor Moore at the door.”

  He was pleasantly surprised when the man didn’t hesitate to shake it. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Doctor Winters. I am Mr. Brown of Tillman and Sons. Corporal Thornton has informed us that you wish to look at some properties in his stead.”

  “Indeed. Doctor Moore and I are very interested in finding a suitable property.” William shook Mr. Brown’s hand and then gestured to Moss. “As is Mr. Wells. He will be the one actually living at the property.” As soon as the words were out, William wished he hadn’t said them. Surel
y Mr. Brown would find that strange, Moss living in a house another man paid for?

  Mr. Brown didn’t blink an eye. Still smiling, he held out his hand for Moss to shake. “A pleasure.”

  Moss gave him a tight smile.

  William wondered if he should offer Mr. Brown refreshments or hustle them all out the door as soon as possible. His desire to secure Moss a new home as soon as possible warred with the politeness his mother had ingrained in him. The necessity of getting this business over and done with won, if only just.

  “I hate to make you leave again when you’ve just arrived,” William said. “But we are anxious to acquire a house as soon as possible. If your carriage isn’t prepared for another journey, then we will send for one of our own.”

  Augustus discreetly left the room. William very much hoped he was going to find Mrs. Taylor and see if they could in fact be provided with a carriage.

  “Right, to business then,” Mr. Brown said amicably enough, and Moss and William went to don all the necessary hats and coats.

  Augustus led the way outside to where the carriage that had brought them to the house the day before waited with the same driver.

  When they were all settled inside, if tightly packed, Mr. Brown opened the leather portfolio he’d been carrying under his arm and rummaged through it as the carriage started to move.

  “The first property I would suggest we look at is the Forest Hill listing. It’s a cottage small enough I think for Mr. Wells to fill comfortably—but not too small—with a large garden.”

  William let a cautious amount of hope unfurl inside him and saw it mirrored on Augustus’ face.

  Maybe they would be able to get this finished quickly.

  ~*~

  By the time they’d seen three properties, any hope Augustus might have had of finding a suitable home for Moss had all but died.

  “There is another property I would like to show you today, and there are several others I can show you tomorrow if this next one won’t suit.” Mr. Brown lowered his head in a tiny bow.

  The carriage rolled through a town with a post office, a church, a small courthouse, and compact little cottages. A boy walking a bedraggled-looking dog on a short rope stopped to gawk at the carriage as they passed. A black woman carrying a basket of cabbages stepped out of the way of their carriage, also staring openly.