He put one hand on his lover’s shoulder, leaned in, and kissed him. The warm scent, so wholly Randall, surrounded him, became part of him. How had he ever found the strength to leave this man? Perhaps he would never have to leave again.
“So this is the way the wind blows,” said an all too familiar female voice.
He yanked away from the warm embrace, stumbling over a chair. The loss of protective arms felt like a gut punch. His face was on fire as Prudence sauntered into the room. She had entered and closed the door without making any noise. Why had she sneaked in? Good God, what had she heard…seen?
Randall recovered with characteristic aplomb. “Afternoon, Lady Prudence. I would ask if there was something I can do for you, but I find myself wondering how the hell you got in here unannounced.”
She walked into the room like the queen herself and sat in front of them with slow deliberation.
He couldn’t breathe; his secret was out. They would be hanged, he and Randall—beautiful, vibrant Randall. She would tell, and then they would hang.
Whoosh. The air rushed from his lungs.
Adam swinging in the ocean breeze, ropes creaking, carrion birds picking at eyes that once, in life, had sparkled with mischief.
Whoosh. He could not inhale and reached up to remove the constriction around his neck. He felt as though he were the one hanging.
“David!” That deep, beloved voice.
The nightmare changed. He staggered back as carrion crows landed on coppery locks that turned to blond, straggly hair. The birds flapped and scrabbled and reached down to pick at what were once perfect green eyes from a once vibrant body.
Randall, swinging from the yardarm.
His knees buckled. Viselike hands grabbed him. They’d come for him too; he fought the grip, but his assailant wouldn’t let go.
“David. David? What the devil is wrong?”
Then the image of ropes, bodies, birds, death was gone.
He blinked once, twice, but he shook so much, it took moments before he focused on the most welcome face. So alive, so strong, so…worried?
Randall forced him into a chair. It was welcome. His legs no longer seemed to work.
Pru was standing there, not quite wringing her hands. She will tell.
He struggled to take in a breath, but his focus dimmed.
Voices—raised, yelling, panic.
“David. Stop this at once.”
Then stinging liquid, more bracing than a nor’easter, slapped his face. He opened eyes that watered and burned like fire, so he squeezed them shut. By the time he opened them again, everything seemed under control in the room. Pru stood with an empty brandy glass in hand, shrugging at Randall’s glare.
She would tell. She could not possibly understand the consequences enough to stay quiet. He must convince her. “Prudence.” He reached for her, but she stepped back. He went to stand but was still wobbly and sank to his knees.
“David.” Randall eased him back in the chair. “Stay calm. Everything will be fine, just—”
“Pru. You mustn’t tell. You do not know the horrible things they will do.”
She sat and struggled to regain a leisurely pose.
“Lady Prudence, tell your brother he has nothing to worry about.”
Pain flashed across her face, but she turned away. Perhaps with disgust. He put his head in his hands. “Pru, it is my fault. Without my… Randall would never have…” He swallowed. “I perverted him, Pru.”
“Enough!” Randall jostled his shoulder. “Be quiet, and let’s find out why your sister so rudely interrupted a private conversation.”
David froze. He was not seriously going to antagonize her, was he? He looked at Randall, willing him to diplomacy. But the man smiled back with all the love of the universe; that smile would have liquefied his heart if it weren’t so damning.
Jerking his gaze away, he studied Prudence. “Why are you here?”
“I saw you, both of you, together. I started wondering why my own brother would not want me to marry someone he seems so fond of. I pieced the picture together.” She did not look disgusted. She looked…determined?
“So, why are you here?” He felt foolish repeating himself, stuck in a chair with shaking legs and a sickness of spirit. “Pru, you can’t tell. We will be hanged.”
She looked at him, her chin quivered, but she set her shoulders. “There is something I want.”
“Yes. Anything; we will do anything if you don’t tell.”
Randall gave a restraining squeeze on his shoulder. “Let’s hear her out before we agree, shall we? We may not want to do business with a blackmailer.”
Prudence scrunched up her mouth into a mutinous pucker before continuing, “I wish to wed Lord Blair. I wish to marry him by special license as soon as can be arranged.”
His mouth flopped open, but Randall squeezed again, his heat and strength steadying. “But why? Do you really understand what you saw here?” He didn’t want to ask but felt he must. He could not let her throw away her happiness, even with such a great risk to himself and to the man he would protect with his life.
She nodded. “I will make no demands on his favors. In fact, I prefer a husband who will never wish to touch me.”
Both men sputtered.
David finally managed to stand and walk to her. “But why?”
She took his hand and searched his eyes. “I would do anything for you. Give me the same respect?”
He nodded but was not fully sure he agreed. He would not let her do anything foolish.
“I am in love. Have been for seven years.”
“What?”
“I know. We fell early and fell for good.” Her face glowed with pure joy. “We have had to hide our love because Father would never agree to the match.”
He felt a lump in his throat. “Who is the bounder? His actions prove he is not worthy of you.”
“You promised to respect me, David.”
That stopped further protests.
“Thomas.”
A strapping young footman entered whom David had noticed in his father’s home because of broad shoulders and a handsome face. Why had she called him in? Surely not as a witness. They could have no witnesses to this family squabble. His heart sped with panic.
She grasped the footman’s hand and squeezed it. Without looking at anyone else, she continued, “Thomas is my love, my life. I wish to be with him always.”
David’s world spun on an awkward axis. His face burned with fury. His little sister and this…this…footman. He would kill the man.
She looked at David. “We have already taken our vows in private. If I wed Lord Blair, Thomas and I can be together if we are discreet, and I do not have to forsake my vows. And my husband will not care.” She beamed at Randall. “And my husband”—she took his hand—“can be with you, dear brother.”
Of all the ridiculous… Together? A brief flash of joy assaulted his brain before the absurdity of her suggestion hit him. He must have given some outward sign of his growing distress, because Randall put his hand on his shoulder.
“Sit down, David.”
He sat before he pummeled the young man standing before him. But to Thomas’s credit, he stood his ground, giving a direct stare at one and then the other of the two men in front of him. That could not have been an easy task given Randall’s size and David’s anger.
“But why marry at all?” Randall asked. “You have avoided it thus far.”
Pru sighed. “Father found out I was not chaste. A servant heard too much through my bedchamber door. Fortunately, no one suspected I was there with a servant. Father is determined I wed, now. He said if I was married, a husband would keep me in line.” She squared her shoulders and continued, “You seemed an acceptable husband for me, as you did not seem to desire me.”
Randall looked at the floor.
“Lord Blair, do you not see this is a perfect solution?”
“But what about an heir? I will not pawn off a footman’
s get as the Blair successor.” Randall’s jaw muscles tightened and flexed.
“I do not believe that will be an issue. I would have gladly run away with Thomas had I ever gotten with child, but it was never necessary; we have been intimate, almost daily, for seven years, and I have never once even been late with my courses.”
Anger chewed on his gut, and his face burned. His little sister and that footman!
“David, you really should not forget to breathe when you’re upset,” she said.
“What?” came out like a croak.
“Deep breath, David.” Randall tapped his shoulder.
Whoosh. Air rushed into starved lungs. “Oh! Oh.” That felt better. He was still spitting mad, but no longer apoplectic.
“Poor dear, he has done this ever since my other, stupidly mean brothers almost strangled him to death.”
“I have?”
“Yes, have you not noticed? Anyway, as I was saying, I cannot and will not give you an heir. In addition, I will be willing to sign a contract with you, stating if I do conceive and deliver a baby, I will leave the country and take up a new identity.”
Randall grinned. Odd thing to grin about, but his expression was full and true. “I’m not certain such drastic steps will be needed. However, this is something you and I will need to negotiate. But I do believe this just might work. I can do this. Can you?” He turned his smile on David.
“What?” This time the word came out sounding normal. “You are as daft as these two.” He waved at his sister and her toad.
He glared at the man. What he wanted to do was chew the footman’s damn limbs off, slowly and painfully. That he could do, the other was… Well, it was just not done. It was a ridiculous idea.
“Don’t be a prig, David. This is a perfect plan for all four of us,” Pru said.
The toad nodded.
“Did you even plan to tell me?” Randall asked Pru.
Chin up, she waved to David. “Did you ever plan to tell me?”
Randall blushed, so becoming on his rough, masculine face.
“We are agreed, then?” She pushed her point. When had she grown into such a determined woman?
Randall took his hand. “This could work.”
“I need time to consider this, figure out…decide if you”—he glared at the footman—“are worthy of my sister.”
She went to the scoundrel then and ran a finger down his cheek. “I love Thomas more than anything. I will mention your dalliance to Father if I have to.”
“We can make this work for everyone involved,” Randall encouraged. “Say yes.”
He glared at them all and fumed as best he could. Which, he’d been told, was very good indeed. But finally he nodded.
Randall squeezed his shoulder, again. Such a lovely feeling to be touched and comforted by him.
Smiling, Pru hugged his arm. “Thank you. You will not regret the fringe benefits, I’m sure.” She winked, and David felt his face heat again.
She took the footman’s hand and headed for the door. “You might want to breathe before you pass out, dear brother.”
He did.
“How did she learn about such things as…?” He waved a hand vaguely around the falls of both their breeches.
A raised brow and a one-sided quirk of lush lips was his only answer.
“My little sister. Ugh!”
Randall kissed him gently, and all the warmth of summer filled him with that one simple gesture.
“I think my sister will make a perfectly difficult wife to manage.”
Randall laughed. “I trust you may be right. Good thing you will be right by my side to help.” He kissed him again. This time the kiss was hotter than August in Sicily.
Chapter Twelve
Randall could not take his eyes from the glowing brother-of-the-bride who laughed with his sister, showing a freedom seldom exhibited. She was happy too, and together the siblings made a beautiful picture. Their radiance thawed the last of his resistance over the situation. And he doubted anyone but himself noticed the overly solicitous and very happy footman who made sure her glass and plate were always full. Randall couldn’t help but laugh too.
Liz squeezed his arm.
“Hello, dear. I see Vincent has managed to keep you from creating international mischief.”
“Oh, Randall, I do not attract very much bad luck, and I wish everyone would stop jesting about it. But as it is, I came to apologize.”
“Apologize? Whatever for?”
“Yes, well, I know I rarely make mistakes, but this time, I underestimated you. I did not think it possible, but you did manage to work this situation out favorably. I should never have doubted.”
He smirked.
“And, you only needed a little help from me.” Her lips trembled with an effort to project wiser and more-worldly cousin.
Randall snorted, knowing full well it was not an attractive response.
“I am proud of you.”
Rolling his eyes for her benefit, he couldn’t ignore the swell of pride from her comment. She was always the person he best tried to impress. Even before his mother and father died and left him alone in the world, he had sought his cousin’s approval. But after she had spent eight grueling days with her father on winter-slick roads just to comfort him when he learned of the deaths, she became a vital part of his spirit. He squeezed her hand.
“I actually think you will be quite happy with the current situation.” She glanced toward the laughing threesome across the room. “And, I think they will be happy too. Bonnets off to you, sir.”
He kissed her hand. Even at three and thirty, her praise made his vision cloudy. “Thank you, dear. Thank you for always being there for me. And thank you for sharing in my happiness.”
“Be blissful, Randall.”
“I fully intend to be, my dear.”
She reached up and kissed his cheek. Mint and ginger, this time did not cause a disturbing grumble in his stomach.
“So now I will have to supervise your advances to my wife even in public?” The scratchy drawl came from his right. “A dance, my dear?”
The comforting pressure of her thin hand left his arm as she deserted him for the chance of a dance with her quarter-gypsy husband. Not that he blamed her. Vincent was a fine-looking man, even at his advanced age of six and thirty.
“Oh, Vincent, do behave.” She turned to Randall. “You do realize he is simply jesting, don’t you?”
Vincent raised a brow.
“Actually, I’m not at all sure he is.”
Vincent smiled his smuggler’s smile. The only thing missing was a blade between his teeth.
She tsked as they turned for the dance floor.
Laughing again, for this day nothing could ruin his joyous mood, his attention went back to David, and his heart beat in staccato. He could not wait until tonight, which seemed as if it were truly their wedding night. Tonight, he would show David how much he was loved.
The past three weeks, preparing for the wedding, there had been few excuses for the two of them to break away. He had missed their time together terribly. He would make up for that tonight.
“Congratulations on your nuptials, Blair. Your wife is very beautiful,” purred a cultured voice behind him.
Lord Arsenwere. His yard stretched and lengthened.
He took a step toward the sound.
A trained response. Nothing more. Couldn’t be anything more.
Could it?
“So is her brother.” The voice was thick with lust.
It rankled, but he would not show that anything Arsenwere did or said bothered him. “Yes, she is a true vision, is she not?” He did not include his thoughts on the bride’s brother.
“Lovely wedding.” The man stepped closer and brought their arms into contact. The smell of citrus oil sent Randall’s thoughts down sweaty, erotic alleys better left forgotten.
“I must say, I was surprised by the news but elated to receive an invitation.”
He rec
eived an invite? Must have been Liz making mischief and rubbing the joyful news in the man’s face. He really would have to tell her to stop meddling one of these days. Actually, he had told her. Many times, in fact. Truth of it was, he thought he would enjoy this particular bit of meddling as Lord Arsenwere got to his point.
“You know, it is pheasant season. I thought about how exhilarating it would be to have you at my estate in Grantham for a week or two.”
The barely veiled innuendo forced him to finally look at the ex-lover he had spent three long, sexually exciting, if somewhat perverted years with. What had he once seen in this man and their illicit play? At one time, he’d thought the tall, thin frame elegant; now the narrow shoulders and lack of musculature looked weak.
Across the room, David stared at them, brows drawn together. In jealousy? He sent his lover a reassuring grin, but the pensive expression did not change. He was beautiful. Truly beautiful, inside and out. He regarded Arsenwere, remembering thin, pale blond hair almost as white as the wig hugging that hawk-like face.
Compared to David, this man was a milksop. Searching his soul, he realized he had no feeling but contempt for him. Truly, none at all. Relief hit him with the force of a horse’s metal-shod kick.
“Lord Arsenwere, afraid I cannot accept your very solicitous offer. Seems I have a family who needs my attention for the next several decades.” He nodded and walked to David and Prudence. Not once looking back.
Epilogue
Another bang from the adjoining room. This time the door rattled in its frame. “That is bloody well enough.” David reached for the latch, but a warm, strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“I doubt you really want to see what is unfolding over there.” Just then a muffled giggle and another thud sounded.
“Bloody hell, what are they doing? Rearranging furniture?” A steady rhythm of thumps began. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes as if that would shut out the sound of his sister being thoroughly fucked, and apparently up against their adjoining wall. But the lack of sight only encouraged unpalatable images. Eyelids flew open and locked on to Randall’s concerned expression.
His Second Chance Page 8