Theo was looking disgustedly at Joseph, who was feeding the eager horses half an apple each. “If they were children, they would grow up to become the most unruly brats known to man,” he said disapprovingly.
“So you say, Colonel,” Joseph said phlegmatically, as he led the horses away. “So you always say.”
“I have no idea why I keep him on,” Theo said, but the laugh in his voice gave him away.
Chapter Eleven
By the time they reached Theo’s sitting room, Hugh’s leg was beginning to ache damnably. He sat beside the fire, hoping the warmth would have restored it by the time they were due to go out again. For go out they would—Theo was merely trying to decide precisely what they would do with their evening.
“We could always look in at Cribb’s, or there is the Great Match at Horse Guards, though I suspect we have both spent long enough there of late.”
“Great Match?” Hugh asked.
Theo pivoted on his heel and looked at him in amazement. “You don’t know? How can you not know? Do you not speak to anyone?”
“Of course I do.”
“Let me guess—Courtenay, and Colonel Badham when you have to, and perhaps Colonel Dalrymple when you receive your instructions or pass him your completed work. And then you return home, to ready yourself for an exciting night at some stifling assembly or ball. Am I correct?”
Hugh shrugged very slightly, for it was true. All of it.
“It’s not precisely an exciting existence, Hugh, especially not for one used to campaigning overseas. Does it really satisfy you?”
Unlike Courtenay’s comments, which were always tinged with malice, Theo sounded simply curious. It gave Hugh the courage to answer him honestly. “It used to,” he said, holding Theo’s gaze. “But not now.”
Theo’s eyes grew dark as he stared at him, and recognising the intensity in them, Hugh found himself moistening his lips. That was how Theo had looked last night. Suddenly Theo was there in front of him, and Hugh fumbled his way to his feet so he might touch him. But his leg spasmed violently and he sank back down with a bitten-off cry.
Theo instantly knelt beside him, his hand lightly on Hugh’s thigh. “What is it?” he asked. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Hugh said tightly. “Wait for it to pass.” And hope to God it would pass because he had not had an episode this bad in months, the usual deep ache transformed into something that clawed savagely through him.
“Damn it,” Theo said. He got to his feet and poured a glass of brandy for Hugh. “Drink that down and we will try again. If I can take off your breeches, then I may be able to help.”
Hugh choked on the mouthful of brandy he had just taken.
“Not in that way,” Theo said, laughing. “Have I really corrupted you so much already, Hugh?”
“It would appear so,” Hugh managed, once he’d recovered the ability to breathe.
“All of it,” Theo said.
Hugh obediently drained the glass as Theo crouched next to him again and began to stroke Hugh’s leg with careful, warm hands. His ministrations eased the very worst of it, or perhaps the brandy was beginning to take effect. Whichever was the case, with Theo’s support Hugh was finally able to get to his feet. It still hurt damnably, but he was at least mobile.
Throwing pride to the wind, Hugh took Theo’s offered arm on the slow, painful journey to his bedchamber. Theo swiftly undressed him, but it was very different from the previous night—this time his concentration appeared to be on how best to remove Hugh’s clothes rather than what lay beneath them. He instructed Hugh to lie upon his front on the bed while he lit the newly laid fire.
“The room will soon warm,” he said, closing the door to the bedchamber. “Now, have you heard of Medical Gymnastics?”
Hugh had not.
“When I was in Gothenberg with the Rifles, back in ’08, I almost went out of my head with boredom for they would not let the men disembark for two months, which kept the officers also confined to the ship. I did, however, slip ashore just often enough to preserve my sanity, and I met a very accommodating young gentleman who taught me much about the human body.”
“Did you indeed?” Hugh muttered into the counterpane beneath him. If he sounded sulky, that was because his leg hurt like blazes and not because of the existence of an accommodating young Swedish gentleman.
“I did,” Theo said, and the smile in his voice came through loud and clear. “Among the things I learned was how certain procedures can relieve pain.”
Hugh turned to look at Theo and found he was picking up a bottle from a small collection of such items on the dressing table. “I may have refined the technique a little,” he explained, as he came over to the bed. “I find the judicious application of oil makes everything so much easier. Head down again, Hugh, and try to relax.”
Hugh laid his head back on his folded arms, only to jolt in reaction as cold liquid drizzled onto his back. His involuntary movement set his leg spasming, and pain spiralled through him, tearing at him so badly he could scarcely breathe. He was panting with it, trying to control his reaction when all he wanted was to curse and cry out as Theo’s hands moved in long, slow sweeps on his back, distributing the oil as they went. While the pain did not abate, Theo’s touch somehow helped him to regulate his breathing, and he was thankful for it.
After a few moments of this, Theo placed his oil-slick hands on Hugh’s leg. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, “but it will be better after, I promise.”
He was right on both counts. There was a point where Hugh was unable to keep the tears from his eyes, though he kept his face buried in his arms so Theo would never know. After the longest time, however, he became aware that something had changed—the leg that had been so outraged at the unaccustomed demands he had made of it was easing. It was no longer so tight it felt as if it vibrated with pain every time he breathed.
As the pain lessened and the room warmed, the scent of lavender from the oil filling the air, Theo’s long, firm strokes seemed likely to send Hugh to sleep. He had not stopped at Hugh’s leg but had administered his Gymnastic treatment everywhere, his hips, his back, even his shoulders and his arms, because the pain Hugh lived with and the awkward way in which he walked made everything tight when it should not be, Theo said. Hugh felt as if he were floating, his body freer than he could remember it ever being before, so he would not gainsay Theo’s assertion.
Theo appeared to be finishing his work with long, sweeping strokes down Hugh’s back, and Hugh sighed happily under his touch.
“I take it you approve of my treatment,” Theo said, and he sounded amused at Hugh’s open appreciation.
“God, yes,” Hugh said, and wriggled slightly to underline just how much he approved.
“Perhaps you will let me know what you think of the next stage,” Theo said, pouring more oil from the bottle onto his hand.
Before Hugh could wonder too much what that might be, he found out. “Oh,” he said, shocked and not entirely sure what he was feeling, but almost certain he liked it.
As Theo persisted, Hugh began to move restlessly, finally pushing himself up on his arms because he could not remain still beneath Theo’s touch, and Theo pressed a kiss against his spine as he continued his attentions.
“Oh,” Hugh said again, and his head fell forward as his breath came unevenly.
Wild feelings were rushing through him suddenly, making him push down against Theo and want more so very badly. Theo knew what it was he needed, and it was not too much longer before Hugh’s pleas for more, for Theo to do something, were answered by Theo pushing home inside him, his breathing short and harsh while Hugh’s hands clenched in the counterpane, for it was both wonderful and not. And then Theo began to move, and Hugh cried out, for it was like nothing he had ever known.
By the time Theo was through with him, Hugh was a boneless, sated heap upo
n the bed, insensible of anything except Theo’s body pressed against his. He had not known such pleasure was possible. He held on to Theo and wished they could stay like this forever.
Chapter Twelve
Hugh studied his reflection in the looking glass. He was dressed to pay a call on James in Half Moon Street, but it was not the folds of his neckcloth he was checking. He wished instead to see if he looked as different as he felt. When he was with Theo, he no longer felt like Hugh. Instead he felt like somebody different, somebody whom Theo regarded with favour and what seemed like fondness. His cheeks heated as he remembered the soft laugh Theo had given when Hugh had been writhing on his bed, completely, shamelessly, wanton, and had pressed a kiss against his temple—which had not been where Hugh had wanted his mouth right at that instant—before marvelling at just how responsive Hugh was to his touch. Hugh was not so surprised at that as Theo—it felt as though he had been waiting for Theo’s touch his whole life.
Shaking himself from his thoughts, he set out for Half Moon Street, where he hoped to find James at home. Along the way he discovered that not only did he feel inexpressibly lighter in some unidentified way, but that Theo’s treatment was still paying dividends a day after he had performed it. His entire body felt more free and less as though it were fighting his will.
On arrival at the townhouse, Matthews showed him into the morning room and brought him a glass of sherry. James burst in a few minutes later.
“Hugh! Capital! Just the fellow I wanted to see.”
“Good afternoon to you too, James.”
“I’ve been thinking, and I would count it a great favour if you would sometimes take out my horses while I am away,” James said as he threw himself into a chair, and accepted a glass of sherry from Matthews. “They are each a bit of a handful, but nothing you could not manage, even with your difficulty.”
Hugh stared at him. James’s devotion to his horses was legendary. He did not simply offer them around like snuff. “Thank you, James,” he said at last, deeply touched by the generosity and kindness behind his brother’s offer. “I should be delighted.”
“Good,” James said, looking pleased.
“I wished to speak to you privately on another matter,” Hugh said, as the door closed behind Matthews with a discreet click. He entered into an explanation about his concerns over open access at Horse Guards. “I know both the Life Guards and the Blues post sentries, but there is so much coming and going with the regiments, and although our offices are in another part of the building it would not be hard for somebody brazen enough to make their way there without being stopped,” he concluded. “Nobody questioned Colonel Lindsay when he found his way to our office—indeed, we did not think to—and perhaps all it would take is somebody dressed in a uniform who carried themselves with great confidence.”
James’s brow had lowered progressively through Hugh’s account. “I had no idea. I cannot conceive anyone knows how lax Horse Guards is,” he said. “You make me wonder now about the War Office. I must speak with George urgently.”
“Yes, but what is to be done about Horse Guards?” Hugh asked. “You know if Wellington says anything it will only be seen as another attack on their competence and they will resist.”
“George,” James said decisively. “He will know who to approach and how.” He paused, examining the way the light reflected from his sherry as he swirled it in his glass. “Tell me, Hugh—how came Colonel Lindsay to visit you in your office? If he was awaiting an audience with the Adjutant General, it seems odd that he went wandering.”
“Oh, that was boredom, I think,” Hugh said with a smile, for he could not imagine how different things might have been had Theo only possessed more patience. “He had been kicking his heels for some time and was looking for a diversion. I believe it’s been some time since he was last in London and so he also wished to discover from us the best places for evening entertainments.”
“But how came you to be so intimate with a Rifles colonel? I know you’re a reclusive fellow these days, and here you are, fast friends with a stranger within days of meeting him.”
“He’s easy to befriend for he is a most personable man,” Hugh said, and hoped he did not blush. “I believe he was looking for company on his excursions, for he invited Courtenay to accompany him too.”
“He came to two captains of whom he knew nothing for company?” James sounded incredulous.
“I imagine Lindsay’s friends are all with the regiment,” Hugh said stiffly, unsure whether it was Theo or Hugh that James was criticising. “You know how it is.”
“Perhaps,” James allowed. “I admit he had a point about the leak from regimental files. That is an entirely different thing from spying, but it speaks to the same lack of security.”
“True,” Hugh said glumly. “Still, I expect even that is better than a commanding officer leaking it, because poor security can be tightened but disloyalty is deadly.”
“What makes you think the circular that was leaked went only to commanding officers?” James asked idly.
“That’s what Lindsay said. Being a colonel, he would know, wouldn’t he?” Hugh explained.
“Fair enough,” James said, and he drained his glass before standing up. “I must go, Hugh—I wish to see George urgently and you know what a difficult fellow he is to get hold of these days.”
As they bade one another farewell, Hugh wondered briefly about the advisability of seeing Sophia. He did not like to think of her upset, but he thought perhaps discretion was, in this case, the better part of valour. Emily had indicated in unmistakable terms that he should avoid the entire subject of Stanton and treat her quite as usual when next he saw her.
So he returned to his lodgings, and spent a quiet evening during which he did not once think about Theo spending the evening with Courtenay, which Hugh knew he had planned to do. And most of all, he did not think about Courtenay’s quick brain, lively manner and attractive smile, his hazel eyes and his curly brown hair that formed an undeserving halo round his head, all of which might be enough to tempt a man that way inclined into tumbling him into bed.
Hugh didn’t sleep well that night.
…
Hugh was working at his desk on Monday afternoon when a brief knock at the open door interrupted him. He looked up, and smiled to see Theo there.
“Gentlemen,” Theo greeted them both as he came into the room.
Courtenay groaned. “I could not level the same charge at you,” he protested. “No gentleman would ever treat his friend in such a shabby way as to match him bottle for bottle and then have the temerity to turn up next day looking as neat as ninepence.”
“Light Bobs,” Theo sighed to Hugh. “They simply cannot hold their liquor. But I am here to see if either of you has accidentally taken Colonel Badham’s latest letter of instruction from the Adjutant General when you picked up regimental books from him. He is turning his office upside down in search of it, and I considered it a kindness on my part to ask you before he comes marching along the corridor and commands you at full bellow to find the damned thing.”
“It is a kindness indeed,” Courtenay said, “for I don’t think my head could take Badham at full discharge today. But no, I have not seen anything unexpected.”
Hugh had been leafing through the papers on his desk as Courtenay spoke, knowing he hadn’t seen anything of the sort but looking anyway in case it had somehow got amongst his papers.
“No,” he said, “at least, I do not think—oh!” As he had held the regimental book for the 42nd Highlanders by its covers and shaken it to ensure nothing was lodged in its pages, a sheet of paper had slipped out and landed on his desk. He picked it up and briefly scanned it. “Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked, holding it out to Lindsay.
Lindsay’s normally relaxed posture was tense as he glanced over the paper, and his hand tightened on it almost enough to cause
the sheet to crumple. “It is. How long has that book been on your desk?”
Hugh thought back. “I collected it on Friday from Colonel Badham’s office.”
“And you have been working through it since?”
“No,” Hugh said, shaking his head. “I needed it to check the accounts, but then Colonel Dalrymple wished me to deal with another matter more urgently and so I have not yet done so. I should have returned the book once I knew I wouldn’t need it that day, I suppose, but I did not.” Because Colonel Badham had been in an even worse mood than usual, and Hugh’s leg had been hurting, and he had also been thinking more about his upcoming evening with Theo than his work.
“I shall return this to its rightful place,” Theo said. “Badham will doubtless want to see you, Fanshawe. Had you but returned the book, the scare would never have happened.”
“Yes, sir,” Hugh said, mortified at being so upbraided, and by Theo, of all people.
Courtenay waited till Theo was clear of the room before he looked at Hugh, eyebrows raised. “I would not believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes,” he marvelled. “Captain Dutiful did not fulfil every last one of his obligations before unshackling himself from his desk for the weekend.”
Hugh shrugged miserably, for what was there to say? He had no defence.
“Pay it no heed, Fanshawe. Such an oversight simply means you are human after all,” Courtenay said.
Perhaps it did, but why did it have to happen in front of Theo? Hugh gritted his teeth and returned to his work. He would just have to ensure he was more careful in future.
…
A Minor Inconvenience Page 9