Midnight Flit
Page 12
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Emily's worries about the ffoulkes-Collinson woman were stayed by her writing a brief note and asking a waiter to deliver it. A very simple missive, expressing her delight at seeing her old friend, suggesting they meet tomorrow mid-morning in one of the hotels smaller drawing rooms and signed 'Emily Stonehouse' with a big flourish. The woman read it with a frown, but caught Emily's eye and gave her a bow of acknowledgement and a knowing nod towards Briers.
"The cheek of it." Emily's cheeks were scarlet. "I'm so sorry, Brian."
Briers grinned at her. "I'm flattered to be thought good enough."
"Of course you're good enough," Miles said, then leaned across Briers to grip his mother's hand. "Don't worry, Ma. We'll sort her out."
Once dinner was over the party continued, Ruby ordering more champagne, but by ten-thirty Emily was beginning to stifle yawns and Miles was leaning against Briers as though he'd prefer to be asleep, too.
Briers had no problem at all with the idea of heading off to bed, but the prospect of sharing it with Miles was keeping his tiredness at bay.
"Are you sure you won't stay?" Ruby asked when Emily eventually made it clear she was calling it a night. "We were going into the piano bar, and Ari was going to play."
"Much though it saddens me to miss that, I really feel I'd appreciate it more if I could keep my eyes open." Emily got up and picked up her bag. "So I'll wish you all good night."
Miles and Briers also said goodnight and Smethwick and Diana left the table to follow them to the door.
"I take it I can leave security to you tonight?" Smethwick said. "I intend to stay down here and monitor the new arrivals. There's another train coming in at midnight from points east, and who knows who could be on it? Keep your eyes peeled and your gun close to hand."
"I will," Miles said and Briers bit his lips together to stifle a laugh at Smethwick's sour expression.
"I'll come up with you," Diana said and slipped her arm through Emily's. "I can check the windows and so forth. Our usual travelling routine. So, have you had fun tonight?"
The two ladies walked ahead chatting, and Briers drew Miles's arm through his and followed.
The suite was darkened, with just one lamp lit, but Pritchard was there with drinks on a tray and greeted Diana with a smile.
"If you wish to go to bed, Miss," he said, "I slept almost all the way from Paris this afternoon and I can catch up my sleep in the morning. It will be no trouble for me to mind the shop."
"If it was any other gentleman's gentleman," Briers said, "I'd be saying thanks but no thanks, but since it's you, Pritchard..."
"If Allerdale trusts you then I do too." Diana stifled a yawn. "Oh excuse me, all that champagne."
"But did you enjoy it?" Emily asked.
"I did, enormously."
"Then go and rest." Emily's eyes were heavy. "Pritchard is capable of handling anything known to God and mankind, and Briers and Miles are only a step or two away."
"And we slept well last night," Miles was in the process of folding Millie away again - mostly, Briers felt, for the benefit of his mother - and his voice had dropped in register. Briers missed Millie, but that little change could only mean good things for the rest of the night.
"Then I will," Diana said. "Oh, that Ruby Aston! What a star."
"Such a beauty too," Emily said and, smiled as Diana said goodnight and went on her way. "My darlings, I'm going to bed. All the windows are shut up tight and I plan to lock the door and put a chair under the doorknob. Don't stay up too late."
"We won't, Ma," Miles said with absolute sincerity and kissed her goodnight.
"Well then," Pritchard said once the door had closed behind Emily. "I suggest you get your rest, gentlemen. I'll be keeping watch."
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Briers was touched to see that Pritchard had been as good as his word. The bed was turned down, there were fresh flowers on the bedside table, roses and spicy pinks, a foil-necked bottle nestled in the icy embrace of a wine cooler, with glasses and a dish of chocolate confections dusted with sugar and cocoa powder alongside.
"What's all this?" Miles went to the flowers and picked up the card leaning against the cut crystal vase. "With the compliments of the hotel, congratulations upon the occasion of your third anniversary! Oh Briers, did you organise this?"
Briers scratched his head, feeling his colour rise. "Well, I suggested it. Pritchard did the liaising. I just wanted our time here to be a bit special - and it is nearly three years, isn't it?"
"Two years, eleven months and, what's today? September twelfth? So another 23 days to go." Miles smile was melting Briers heart. "I expect this is the closest we'll ever get. Oh, come here."
Their mouths met in a long gentle kiss. Then Miles moved back and touched one of the chocolates to Briers lips, leaving a drift of cocoa powder. Briers growled and bit half of it out of his fingers, and Miles ate the rest of it. Their next kiss was no sweeter, just more chocolatey.
"So, bathroom?" Briers suggested. Their bedroom was provided with a washbasin, but the shared bathroom was just off the main room of the suite.
"I'll hurry," Miles promised.
Briers contained his impatience while Miles used the facilities to return to himself, and whiled away his time by sprucing up in the washbasin. There were times when they hadn't bothered but that was when, travelling in his own persona, Miles had been more robust in his appreciation for Briers, and much less fastidious. Briers found that fascinating. Miles was never straightforward.
And he was fast. Briers had barely even begun to pace before Miles murmured a goodnight to Pritchard and stepped into the room. Well-scrubbed, face devoid of make-up, hair damp and combed back from his face - Briers was reminded of the very first time he set eyes on him in Naylor's office. But then he had merely looked apprehensive. Now he looked stricken.
"What?" Briers said.
Miles swallowed and dipped his head. "I have to show you something. Please don't be annoyed."
"That rather depends what it is," Briers said. "But whatever it is, I don't suppose I'm going to shout or storm off in a huff or anything like that. Unless you've suddenly got a heart tattoo with 'Gladys' underneath; then I might be a bit peeved."
He grinned, and Miles's lips twitched into the worst excuse for a smile Briers had even seen. A serious worry, then, rather than Miles just needing a bit of reassurance. Briers approached close enough to take Miles's hand, then drew him into his arms. "What's the matter, love?"
"That - incident on the train," Miles said.
"Oh - damnation."
Miles had been so poised since arriving at the hotel that Briers had almost forgotten that he had been tender earlier. But now, finally, with the adrenalin of the fight and the constant tension of pretence ebbing away, Miles would be feeling the pain of it. "Show me," Briers said.
They moved to the bed and Briers gently unwrapped Miles from the folds of his dressing gown, revealing soft enticing skin just begging to be kissed. Even where it was black and blue.
"Oh Miles." Briers winced in sympathy at the patches of bruising on his ribs and the places tinged with red where the bruises were still to come out. "Did you get Pritchard to check these?"
Miles splayed his hand across his ribs. "He says they aren't broken. Did you know that you can hear broken bones? He said it's called crepitus."
"A mine of information, our Pritchard." Briers put his hand over the red patches on Miles's stomach. "And here?"
"Sore - aching. But not too bad. I was worried for a while because one hears stories - like about that boxer - but I'd tensed my belly the way you showed me, and maybe that helped."
"I'm sure it did." Briers stroked the soft pale skin with his thumb, and contemplated going to whichever building the authorities had taken the French operative to and setting fire to it with him in it, but then something occurred to him.
"Miles, why are you apologising? You did brilliantly. You and your mother could have been so badly hurt. Emily could have
been taken, you could have died. Instead you did exactly the right thing by tackling him and giving Emily time to shout for help." Briers stooped and pressed a kiss to the worst bruise, a vivid blue patch the shape of a large fist, not far below Miles's little pink nipple. Miles's arms closed around his head, holding him close, then he lay back taking Briers with him. Under Briers's ear, Miles's heartbeat pattered an anxious rhythm.
"I suppose I feel I should have done better," Miles murmured. "He was wearing a stiff collar so that strike to his throat didn't work, and with those baggy trousers I couldn't get a good grip on his bollocks."
His breath hitched and Briers lifted up to get a good look at his face. "Hey," he murmured. "There are ways around those problems. And it was remiss of me not to have thought of them. When we get home, I'll show you. I promise. But for now, how about we get into bed and cuddle ourselves to sleep?"
"But Briers," Miles looked stricken again, "we were both looking forward to this so much and I know you wanted to - er - you know." He nodded to Briers shaving kit where the handy little travel sized tin of petroleum jelly resided and Briers's heart melted again.
"And you'd have let me, too, wouldn't you, even though you don't much like it?"
"I do." Miles voice was strong even if his eyes darted uneasily to the side. He'd never been able to lie to Briers.
"But there's things you like far more, and right now I think we both deserve a good night's sleep. I wasn't expecting acrobatics, anyway, but you're hurt, Miles. The important thing - the really important thing - is that we're here together, and you have no idea how happy that makes me." Briers dropped his head to kiss over Miles's heart, then, when Miles tugged urgently at his shoulder, moved to kiss his mouth.
"Are you sure?" Miles was relaxing in every muscle. "Because I do ache and I'm so very tired."
"I'm sure." Briers nuzzled his chest again, grinning at the tiny scratch of the almost invisible stubble there, then busied himself in extracting Miles from his dressing gown and getting them both under the covers. "But in the morning, you watch out!"
CHAPTER TEN
Miles
Saturday 12th September, 1931
"Awake?" Briers murmured. "You'd better be."
If the soft pressure of Briers's lips against his ear hadn't roused him, the exquisite drift of fingers across his belly would have done.
"Oh yes?" Miles smiled into his pillow. "What's to wake up for?"
"We overslept." Briers gave his nipple a tiny tweak and pulled away. "Pritchard is organising breakfast in the other room. Your mother is already up and is going to breakfast with Diana and Smethwick."
"I can't take in that much information before I've got my eyes open," Miles complained. "And anyway, I thought we might - " He turned over and let out a gasp as all the bruised muscles woke up at once and demanded his attention. "Oh, dear Lord, that hurts."
Briers grunted and pushed back the covers. "Oh yes, your belly is colouring up nicely. I saw a sunset like this once. I think they call that colour mauve, maybe, with patches of puce, and some honest-to-God black here at the edges of your ribs."
"Briers," Miles looked up at him with a scowl. "Have you ever heard the term 'tact'."
"Heard it once, not sure what it means." Briers's smile was so tender Miles couldn't sustain his annoyance. "I'm going to run you a bath. You can drink your tea while you're soaking."
Briers was warm and there and Miles had hoped that his sore ribs and aching belly would have eased enough for them to enjoy a little early morning loving, but clearly Briers was intent on being sensible. Miles screwed up his face in an indignant pout that he hoped might express his dissatisfaction with the world, and was rewarded with a kiss.
"Now get up," Briers said, sympathetic but implacable, as he tugged back the covers.
"Life is hard," Miles grumbled.
"So I see." Briers sounded as though he was grinning, but he did slip a hand under Miles's shoulder to help him sit up. That hurt, too.
Fifteen minutes later, up to his shoulders in water that was just cooled enough to be bearable and with an excellent cup of Darjeeling, Miles felt much more able to deal with the world. Especially since he had Briers, shaving in just his cotton shorts and under-shirt, to admire.
"I'm wondering if we made a mistake last night," Miles said. He couldn't quite see Briers's soapy face in the mirror over the sink, but he heard an encouraging sound so carried on. "That ffoulkes-Collinson woman. She's had quite a lot of time to spread the word if she decided she wanted to make trouble for Ma."
Briers tilted his head in preparation for the sweep of the razor through soap and stubble. Miles watched with interest, not completely devoid of lust but mostly focussed on the razor. Miles still used the pair of ivory-handled straight razors his father had bought for him when the first hairs has began to haze along his upper lip but Briers, used to travelling light, had a nifty little Valet safety razor kit that folded up into a silvered tin box. Very practical, but rather less useful as a weapon than Miles's sabres.
"I think I had better go too, when Ma visits her," Miles added. "Just to keep an eye on her. Do you want to come?"
"Do I want to sit and listen to your mother and an old school friend try to cap each other's stories? I don't think so." Briers turned to glance down at Miles. "I think you're more than capable of handling anything she might do. Want me to pass your razors? Pritchard stropped them first thing. Said you'd be wanting them."
Miles cupped his chin in his hand then stroked down his chest. "Crikey yes, I must look like a hedgehog. Yes, I must do my legs too. But I'll finish my tea first."
"You don't look like a hedgehog." Briers made another sweep of his razor from jawline to Adam's apple. "You look edible. But just a tiny bit stubbly, and we wouldn't want anyone to notice."
Miles grinned and wriggled a little bit deeper into the water. "Edible, eh?"
"Yes. I could eat you up. Every bit. Only not now." Briers mopped his face. "Later, when you aren't wincing each time you breathe. Breakfast will be here soon, then you can take your time to get ready."
"Grand idea." Miles put the cup aside and held out his hand for his shaving kit but Briers had his head tilted with a distinct glint in his eye.
"I want to do it," Briers said.
"Do what?"
Briers moved to the edge of the bath and swirled his soapy brush along Miles collarbone. "Shave you," he said. "I'm just not sure whether to start at the top or the bottom."
"I don't need my bottom shaved, Briers."
"You know what I meant." Briers dabbed the brush on Miles's nose then reached into the water to grab an ankle. Miles watched, as Briers set his ankle on the edge of the bath, carefully cushioned on a rolled towel, and began to apply the soap with sweeps of the brush. Miles bit his lip because Briers's expression was one he loved. During those wonderful months when Briers was recovering from injury and had stayed with Miles, officially as his 'lodger' but actually as adored companion and beloved bed-mate, Briers's face had often been this content and relaxed. That little furrow of concentration between his eyebrows as he set the blade of the safety razor against Miles's shin was familiar too. The razor moved easily across his warmth-softened skin, leaving smoothness in its wake. Briers washed the soap from the blade and repeated the action. The sweep of the razor, the swish of the brush was almost hypnotic. Miles let his head fall back and closed his eyes.
"I feel fabulous," he murmured. "Like some old potentate in a palace being pandered to by beautiful oiled servants who wish to cater to my every whim."
"Every whim," Briers muttered and applied more soap. "Just how far up do I need to go?"
"I'm tempted to say 'all the way', but apparently I wince when I breathe."
"Dammit," Briers growled. "Should have kept my big mouth shut, shouldn't I? That one's done. Let's have the other."
Miles put his tea cup down and braced his elbows on the edge of the bath before offering Briers his other foot. It was beginning to prune a little, h
e noticed, before Briers took his mind off it with a delicate bite to his ankle bone. That required more than a sigh as a response. "Oh Briers."
"Oh yes." Briers rubbed his cheek against Miles's dripping, slightly stubbly calf and put the razor aside. He trailed questing fingers along the inside of Miles's thigh. "Am I allowed to change my mind?" he asked. "I don't want to hurt your ribs, but I really need to hear you moan."
"Of course you're allowed to change your mind," Miles said, "and if you keep doing that, moaning is imminent."
Briers chuckled, and caught Miles's eye for a moment, just as his hand, warm and strong, reached its goal. "Tell me if it gets to be too much," he instructed, gathered him up and began to move his hand.
"Oh, dear Lord," Miles breathed and did, indeed, moan. He couldn't resist a lift of his hips to press into Briers's palm, but his abused muscles protested and he subsided with a frustrated whimper.
"Be still and let me," Briers advised. "Please, sweetheart."
Miles objected to being completely passive on principle, but had to admit that once he relaxed into the warm water and let Briers do as he pleased it pleased Miles a lot too.
"I'm going to give you such a seeing-to once I'm better," he promised at one point, and Briers chuckled and leaned over the edge of the bath to kiss him.
"I'll have to stay in London for a bit then," he said. "Same rates as before? Bed and board in exchange for sexual favours?"
"Oh Lord, yes, anything! Just don't stop."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Briers said, and didn't.
Miles lost track a bit after that, just clung to the edge of the bath so he didn't submerge, and allowed himself to drown in sensation. It was completely selfish, and absolutely wonderful.
When Miles was able to open his eyes again, it was to see Briers's tender smile. "Thank you," Miles said.
"No, thank you." Briers grinned. He looked nearly as flushed and heavy-eyed as Miles felt. "I do have two hands, you know, so we had one each. Which reminds me, I'd best do something about the bath mat."