by Megan Derr
"Upstairs," Gideon repeated hoarsely, unable to resist the bit of throat right before his eyes.
Tem groaned low at the knowing touch of tongue and teeth to his skin, shivering in Gideon's arms. "Yes."
"Yes," Gideon repeated, and with a last kiss, forced them up out of the chair, taking up his flask before leading the way up to his room.
*~*~*
Gideon woke feeling every pleasant ache and pain from the night before, and stretched out an arm to see if the waking would be as pleasant. However, instead of warm flesh, he encountered only cool sheets.
Frowning, Gideon sat up and looked about the room. Tem was gone; only the proof of their passion remained as evidence that Gideon had not spent the night alone.
A piece of paper on the table caught his eye, and Gideon threw off the blankets and strode across the room to snatch it up.
Sir,
I wish I could have remained to wake you. Alas, I woke late and have somewhere I must be. I would convey my thanks and hopes to see you again someday, but I fear that would sound like sentimental drivel. Still, you are the only impulse into which I've ever given. Perhaps we shall cross paths again someday.
Regards,
Tem
Gideon sighed and stowed the note. Yes, they had places to be. Still, he would never be happier for a broken carriage wheel. Just thinking of last night… Never had he had such a lover. If only he'd woken sooner, perhaps he could have at least gotten contact information…
Ah, well—best not to linger on such distracting thoughts. Gods knew who the man really was, and what kind of scandal Gideon might have wound up in the middle of. He had duties and responsibilities which needed tending; he wouldn't be like his parents and neglect them. He most certainly wouldn't neglect them for a man he'd likely never see again.
Gideon called for a bath and quickly set about getting ready for his day. If he lingered just a bit over pleasant memories of the past night, nobody knew but him.
Two hours later, he was back on the road, heading quickly toward the home that was not far off now. Giving the mare her head, he allowed his thoughts to linger again over the previous night. Tem had met Gideon's boldness head on, met every kiss and touch and begged for more. Gideon shifted uncomfortably and forced his mind to thoughts less torturous. Damn it all, he should have made certain that he could see Tem again before falling asleep. Gideon could only blame it on how completely and utterly Tem had captivated him.
Gideon forced his mind to his brother. Damn the boy, could he not behave himself? Gideon was out of ideas as to how to handle him. Sometimes he truly hated his parents for preferring to run around the world than tend to their own children…and he did hate them for leaving him to clean up and pay for all the messes they'd left behind. However, the old bitterness would get him nowhere; he made the best of things, or tried…if only Pierce would stop driving away all of his damnable tutors. Gideon rubbed his forehead, willing away the headache trying to take hold. He knew nothing about children; why had they done this to him?
Sighing, Gideon turned his mind to matters of business and finance for the rest of the journey, both grateful and miserable when his home came into view. Servants tumbled out to assist him, and barely had he walked in the door, when his secretary greeted him.
"My lord, we were beginning to fear for you."
Gideon quickly explained the reason for his delay. "I am going to freshen up. Is my interview arranged?"
"Yes, sir. He arrived bright and early this morning and was most cordial. I gave him a preliminary interview and he seems most suited to the task before him."
"The trials before him," Gideon said dryly. "Very well, tell him I will be with him in about twenty minutes. Could you have tea brought? I am positively famished."
The secretary bowed and murmured acknowledgements of the orders.
Gideon swiftly climbed the stairs to his bedchamber, where he wasted no time in freshening up, replacing his travel clothes with appropriate afternoon attire and offering prayers to whatever gods might possibly be bored enough to care that this tutor would last, would instill something resembling discipline in his brother. Smoothing down his dark blue-gray afternoon coat, Gideon adjusted his cravat and finally made his way back downstairs to his study. A maid was just leaving the room and bobbed a curtsy when she saw him.
"Just brought the tea, milord."
"Thank you," Gideon replied, then opened the door and strode into the study, struggling to remember the potential tutor's name. Arthur? No…Audrey? No, it was more interesting than that…Art…Artemis! That had been it. Artemis Clark. "Mr. Clark, I appreciate your patience in…" Gideon drifted off and stared as Clark stood and faced him, just noticing through his shock the ashen pallor that overtook the other man's face.
Tem's face.
*~*~*
Only habit and sheer force of will permitted Tem to keep his misery contained. It figured. It so bloody figured to the point that he couldn't stand it. One bloody impulse into which he'd given, one bloody chance he'd decided to take, and the greatest night of his life was going to cost him his last chance at employment. At freedom. Thank goodness his new clothes and the cost of travel had made buying food impossible, for if he'd had anything to eat, it would be all over the floor and Gideon's fine rug.
No, not Gideon—Lord Fairfax, the Earl of Foxwood; the most fascinating man he'd ever encountered, the most passionate lover he'd ever had.
Tem had no idea what to do now. Well, he did—he just didn't want to do it. How the bloody hell had he not realized that Gideon was a lord? The man had acted as though he were about Tem's station, if slightly better off financially. Not once had the damnable man given any indication he was nobility.
And there was no way a noble would hire the shameless stranger he'd fucked only hours ago.
Swallowing around the lump in his throat, forcing air past the despair making his chest heavy, Tem managed to make himself move, speak. He sketched a bow. "Your Lordship, I will take my leave. I do apologize for wasting your time. Thank you for considering me as a fitting tutor for your brother. I bid you good day."
Not quite able to bring himself to look at Gideon, and ignoring the rumbling in his stomach as the heavenly scent of food tormented him, Tem straightened his shoulders and held his head high as he made for the door.
"I did not dismiss you," Gideon said, voice calm and almost deceptively relaxed. "You may sit."
Tem turned back around, brow furrowing in confusion. "My lord?" What was going on? He'd all but thrown himself at the man last night; in the eyes of any noble, that made him glaringly unfit to act as tutor—to act in any capacity in a proper home.
Gideon motioned him back to his seat. "My secretary said that you seemed most fit to serve as a tutor. Have you experience in such things? I am afraid I did not read all of the information I was sent." He smiled briefly, sheepishly, and all Tem could remember was how fine that mouth tasted.
He reprimanded himself sharply to focus on his chance for employment, not how badly he wanted to strip his potential employer and taste all of that fine skin anew. "Some, my lord." The honorific would not settle on his tongue, stiff and awkward after gasping and moaning and crying Gideon's name all night. "I assisted my own teacher in giving lessons to the children in my village and often tutored many of them in the evenings. The schools which I attended were listed in the papers I posted to your secretary, although I can list them all now for you if you care."
"I can look over it later. You are skilled in all of the basic subjects?"
"Yes, my lord, in addition to all of the higher ones. I am quite capable of bringing your brother through the remainder of his preliminary lessons and well into his advanced studies."
Gideon nodded, pale gray eyes regarding him thoughtfully, stunning against the dark red of his curly hair. "You will also be expected to watch over and tend to him. He needs constant guidance and supervision." Gideon sighed. "I will not lie, Mr. Clark: my brother is a handful and I've go
ne through more tutors than I feel like admitting. Tending to him is no easy task. Do you feel you will be up to it? I would like him tamed before I introduce him to the court in three more years."
Tem almost laughed. A wild child. He could handle those—far better than his brother had handled him. His back burned with the memories of his brother's efforts to 'tame' him. "I was such a boy myself, my lord. I know all the tricks of their trade. I am most certainly up the task."
"Very well, then. You will be here conditionally for six months, after which we will reevaluate your place. Salary will be one hundred silver a month and you get two days a month entirely to yourself, as well as the usual holidays."
Tem bowed his head. "Thank you, my lord."
Gideon stood and strode to pull on the bell cord, and when a servant appeared, waved Tem off. "Show Mr. Clark to Pierce's rooms and see that he's comfortably settled in his own rooms."
Obediently, Tem followed the servant out, but he barely noticed the walk through the massive manor, his thoughts solely for Gideon—who, after that initial moment of shock, had ceased to give any indication that he knew Tem. 'Mr. Clark' sounded as wretched as 'my lord'…but what had he expected? For Gideon to break protocol and kiss him dizzy, grateful that he had not vanished? Tem laughed bitterly to himself—protocol and propriety were the way of the world. No one broke the rules except in the dark of night where they could not be seen doing it. By daylight, all must obey or have obedience beaten into them. His back throbbed, reminding him how stupid it had been to give in to an impulse after so many years of controlling his behavior. He was lucky to have a job.
One hundred silver—all of his problems would go away with such a generous salary. Best of all, he could write James that he had succeeded, he would not be returning home, and that James could go to bloody hell. Just thinking of finally obtaining his freedom…it very nearly took his breath away.
"Right this way, Master Clark," the servant said politely, opening a door into a suite of rooms clearly belonging to a young boy. Blues and greens, pictures portraying great hunts, knights, and dragons… "Master Pierce!"
No one replied to the servant's call and Tem could see annoyance flicker across his face. Well, that wouldn't do to make a favorable impression. "You may go; I will find the boy. Best to begin as I will be going on, yes?"
"Quite so, sir," the servant muttered, and gladly made his departure.
Tem stepped into the room—and promptly tripped the wire that had been strung low across the door, sending a cascade of chalk dust down all over him.
He pulled out a kerchief to keep the dust out of his mouth and muffle a laugh. "Well-played, sir." When nothing but a faint giggle responded, Tem moved to the window seat and picked up the book that had been abandoned there. He tilted his head as he read the title: The Brooksfield History of Fencing. Intriguing—not the usual choice for a twelve-year-old boy. He skimmed the marked page, from the chapter elaborating on the weapons themselves. The book was well used, but also well-tended, showing every sign of having been read at least a hundred times, if not more.
A rustling sound made him smile faintly. "Under the bed, are we? I was going to try the wardrobe, so I guess that means you are one up on me, young Master Pierce."
More rustling and Tem barely kept himself from staring at the miniature Gideon that stood before him. The red hair was brighter—no doubt it would darken with age—and Pierce's eyes were green rather than gray, but Tem did not doubt for a moment that Gideon had looked exactly like this as a boy. "An honor and pleasure to meet you, Master Pierce. My name is Artemis Clark, but as we will be spending a great deal in one another's company, you may call me Artemis."
Pierce regarded him suspiciously.
"Come now," Tem teased gently. "Surely you know the proper responses?"
"You're not going to punish me for the chalk?" Pierce asked, expression stating that he would not believe a denial.
Tem filed that remark away to ask Gideon about later. "Hardly. I used to rig the door with paint. It's a good way to find out quickly if a tutor is the type to shout, the type to beat you. I understand completely. Now, if you'd decided to run off and say, hide on the roof I might have been a bit sore with you, and then only because that is dangerous and stupid."
Pierce's eyes widened. "The roof?"
"Yes," Tem said dryly. "Do not be trying it. I assure you that falling off a roof is not a pleasant thing, especially when one's brother finds out and administers the discipline himself."
Pain filled the young face briefly, quickly replaced by a forced indifference. "Gideon wouldn't care."
"That is not true. Your brother was nothing but affectionate when speaking of you to me," Tem said firmly. He knew very much what it was like when a brother did not care. He pushed on before Pierce could reply, knowing that it was the wrong time for such an argument—and it was not his place to interfere anyway, although it was obvious that there were unspoken problems between the brothers. "You were reading about fencing?"
Pierce suddenly paled, clearly having forgotten about the book. He bolted forward and snatched it away. "It's none of your business," he said, then turned and fled the bedroom.
Lifting a brow, Tem followed him. "What is wrong?" he asked, seeing Pierce shove the book not on, but behind the bookcase. The boy jumped and spun around, guilt plain on his face.
"Don't tell Gideon."
Stranger and stranger. "Will you tell me why you are hiding that book? I must have good reason to keep secrets from my employer." Tem knelt so that he was at eyelevel with Pierce, looking directly into his shadowed eyes. "It's only a book. Why would Gideon be mad?"
Pierce stared at him, obviously wanting to believe him, but if he had scared off as many tutors as Gideon had indicated, then trust was not something Pierce gave easily.
Tem should not care so much—he'd known Pierce all of ten minutes now…but he knew the emotions that put the shadows in those eyes all too well; knew how precious certain secrets were…and it was obvious that Pierce did not hate Gideon, although he thought that Gideon hated him. "I have a brother, you know. He does not like me. When we were young, he was quite mean to me. He took my pets and lost them in the woods, and when my parents died, he oversaw my education and discipline. He used to beat me quite often for being 'rebellious'. Do you know that word?"
"It means you didn't listen," Pierce said, frowning suspiciously at him. "Why were you like that?"
"Rebellious? I thought that my brother was boring; he thought that I was wild. He was older, so he beat me. I used to get revenge by hiding his favorite shoes and putting gross things in his tea."
"Gideon isn't like that," Pierce said, clearly offended. It confirmed what Tem had already suspected: that Pierce very much loved his older brother. Then what in the world was going on here? Tem was supposed to be a tutor, not a mystery solver…but he could not bear to see anyone come even close to enduring what he once had.
"So why do you hide the book, Master Pierce?"
"I don't like 'Master'," Pierce replied instead. "Gideon doesn't either."
Tem smiled. "I never cared much for titles myself." He set aside the book mystery, for obviously that would take some time to solve. "So how about we discuss our arrangement, hm?" He moved to sit at the table clearly meant for studies and motioned for Pierce to do the same, and started using his kerchief to brush away the worst of the chalk dust. "I would very much like not to be run off and you are very much in need of lessons if you're going to be as strong and smart as your brother someday."
"I could never be like Gideon," Pierce said with the wisdom of a twelve-year-old.
"You could be if you stopped running off tutors," Tem replied calmly.
Pierce's expression turned dark. "I'm not very good at numbers."
Tem lifted one brow. "Then we will devote extra time to them."
"Can we study outside?"
"Provided it's not cold," Tem smiled. "I detest the cold."
Pierce narrowed his eyes
. "I like drinking chocolate for breakfast."
Tem wondered precisely what all of his former tutors had done to Pierce. "I prefer tea myself."
"Could we go swimming sometimes?"
Tem's smile widened. "That goes along with studying outdoors, I should think. I firmly believe in exercising both body and mind. As before, so long as it is not cold, I foresee no problems with that."
"What about punishment?" Pierce asked, staring at him defiantly.
"I prefer that you just behave, but if you require discipline, then I will discuss such matters with your brother first. I do not lay my hand to a student. It's in my contract that such discipline must be administered by parents or guardians. Your brother gave no indication." Gideon was far too good and attentive a lover, too caring of his partner, to be the sort of person who favored beatings.
Pierce nodded slowly. "You don't seem to be a bloody arse like all the rest."
Tem fought not to laugh. "Well, here is your first reprimand: a gentleman does not say 'bloody arse' unless there is grave call to do so. However, I do admire your direct nature. Let us keep to that, hm? Now, ring for tea, and ask them to send up a bowl and cloth so I can clean up, and we shall see where you stand with your lessons."
Pierce looked at him, frowning, obviously confused…then slowly nodded and did as he was told. When the tea and wash water came, Tem thanked the servant and gently prodded Pierce to do the same, nodding in approval.
"Now, what were you learning when you scared off the last one?"
Pierce wolfed down a bite of scone as he stood up and crossed to the bookcase, pulling down several tomes and setting them down with a thump on the desk. "These. I'm halfway through the lessons, except for numbers where I'm only on the third lesson."
"You are making fine progress, then, all things considered. I will tell Gideon; he will be happy to know that you're doing well."
For reply, Pierce only frowned and went back to his scone. Tem shifted the conversation to idle chatter, asking questions about the manor and grounds, quietly searching out and storing information he could use to instruct and guide Pierce. He was not the devil that Tem had assumed; it was clear that his previous tutors had favored a heavy hand, when it was obvious that Pierce needed no such thing.