Deceived

by Megan Derr

  The clock in the hallway chimed the fourteenth hour and Jude lost interest in the letter he was pretending to read. Such foul weather made travel foolish, if not downright impossible, although the Ford estate was only an hour or so by horseback from his own. No note had come stating that Crispin was canceling their appointment, but Jude had not sent a note either. There was no need—the weather was plenty note enough. Still, it had been a long time since Jude had looked forward to anything even half as much as this afternoon.

  Shoving back from his desk, Jude stood and strode over to his bookcases. The majority of his books were kept in the library proper, but he had several of his dearest in his study. He touched the spines lightly, perusing his options, but in the end, returned to his desk with nothing. He had just begun going over his accounts for the month when he heard the sharp, echoing bangs of the knocker being struck. Who the devil would come visiting in this weather? Surely not…

  Jude stood and moved around his desk, even as he saw Feathers stride by the open study door. Moving slowly toward the door, he paused there as Feathers opened the front door and spoke to someone outside. The rain drowned out any chance Jude stood of hearing the speaker, but a moment later Feathers stepped back and ushered in a short, thin figure draped in a sodden cloak.

  It was rare that anything surprised Jude. He could count on one hand the number of lovers who had ever braved such inclement weather to visit him and still hold a glass of brandy without difficulty. His feet were moving before he quite realized it. "Feathers, have a hot bath drawn. Tell the cook to prepare tea—we'll take it in blue room. I will tend to our guest here."

  "Yes, my lord," Feathers said, and vanished to carry out his orders.

  Jude watched in silence as Crispin stripped off his sodden cloak, the clothes beneath only slightly better off. "I left my horse in the stable, my lord. I hope that was not taking liberty. I wasn't sure you still expected to see me, or had made other plans due to the weather."

  "Even if you had taken liberty, which you have not, I could hardly take issue," Jude replied, teasing him with a gentle smirk. "The entire purpose of our acquaintance is, after all, to take liberties. Extreme liberties." And oh how he suddenly wanted to take them—the depth of that want was startling, but he never had been the type to deny what he wanted. Deprive himself, maybe, if doing so was necessary. But never deny.

  Soaked from the rain, very little of Crispin was left to the imagination, dark strands of hair clinging to his cheeks, those pretty eyes moving restlessly. "I am amazed you were willing to brave this abysmal weather."

  Crispin laughed faintly. "You didn't see what I fled in my house. But I can leave if you did have—"

  Jude caught his forearm in a light hold as Crispin started to pull his cloak back on and turn away. "Not at all. I simply assumed that the weather would not be worth braving."

  Crispin looked at him, amusement flickering across his face. "I have braved more than one storm in my life, my lord, and will face many more, if the only other option available to me is to remain trapped inside with my older brothers."

  "Ah, yes. Siblings." Jude found himself returning the hint of smile. How strange—that was twice now that Crispin had tricked him into smiling. "My sister oft found herself the victim of rainy day pranks."

  "Just so," Crispin said, smile settling more firmly on his mouth. "So, you see, the storm is not much of an obstacle."

  Jude nodded and finally took the wet cloak, passing it to the maid who had appeared.

  "My lord, the bath will be ready shortly. We've also put out some suitable clothing in the burgundy room. Tea is in the blue room. All is ready and waiting."

  Ah, he had neglected to say where to put Crispin. Most of his guests came with amorous intent, but not all, so it was hard to anticipate his wishes. The burgundy room was across the hall from the master suite. "That will suffice, thank you, Abigail. See that his cloak is dried and neatened, if you please."

  He waited until she had gone again before speaking to Crispin. "Does your family know where you are?"

  Crispin shook his head. "I did not feel at liberty to discuss our…arrangement, my lord, not certain of your wishes in the matter." His gaze landed on the door through which the maid had vanished. "You need not trouble yourself; I assure you I am not so wet as that."

  "Nonsense," Jude said, and moved close enough to place a hand lightly on the small of Crispin's back, gently urging him forward. The fabric of his jacket was cold, but beneath, he could feel the warmth of Crispin's body.

  Continuing to half-push, half-guide, he got Crispin up the stairs and into the burgundy room. Steam curled from the copper tub set before a fire and Jude smiled to see that Feathers had thought to set out a glass of brandy on the small table near the bath. "Here you are, then. If you were willing to come see me in such foul weather, the least I can do is see that you do not catch your death. Once you're done you can find me in the blue parlor room."

  "Y-yes, my lord."

  Jude departed before he gave into a sudden temptation to begin lessons that very moment. He had far better control than that and he must be more bored than he thought if he was this taken with the idea of playing tutor to such an innocent.

  Shaking his head, Jude returned to the study to put his things in order, and then went to wait for Crispin in the blue parlor room.

  It was half past the fifteenth hour when Crispin reappeared, dressed in clothes finer than those in which he had arrived. Jude tried briefly to recall which of his myriad lovers might have left such finery behind, but could only manage to narrow it to three possibilities, and then only because few of his lovers were that slight. All things considered, the clothing fit Crispin well: black breeches and a deep violet afternoon jacket, the knot in his neck cloth more intricate than he suspected Crispin ever bothered. He fought a sudden, surprisingly hot urge to tear the neck cloth away. Obviously the lack of boredom was going straight to his head—or perhaps straight to his prick. Amused with himself, Jude beckoned for Crispin to sit. His mouth curved when Crispin chose the nearby chair.

  "Now, now, my pretty pupil: there are different ways to go about the little game I am teaching you to play. 'Hard to get' is, I suspect, not going to be a style that suits you. But you've already proven that you're capable of being forward when suitably motivated. It will contrast beautifully with your innocent air." He crooked his fingers idly. "Sitting over there is playing hard to get. Forwardness would be to come and sit by me."

  Crispin flushed, but did not move.

  "Now, now, do not be a naughty student," Jude said, then paused. "Hmm, perhaps it is better to say do not defy me. You are more than welcome to be naughty. Now, come and sit by me."

  Face burning, Crispin stood and moved to the settee, sitting at the far end of it.

  Jude chuckled and snagged his arm, tugging him closer, so that their thighs were not quite touching. "Better. Never underestimate the power of proximity. Or touch." He let his fingers slowly fall away. "Now, the next part of this lesson: showing your gratitude properly."

  Crispin started to speak, but Jude placed a finger over his lips, then slowly slid the finger away and cupped his chin, tilting Crispin's head up and angling it just so. "Now tell me 'thank you', as prettily as you can. Do not move your head or look away until I bid you."

  Red-faced and embarrassed, Crispin nevertheless obeyed. "Thank you, my lord, for your fine hospitality. You are most generous."

  "Oh, very prettily said indeed. I think you will be a fine pupil. Now, here is an important lesson for you: seduction is all about control. You are the seducer, which means you control the situation. We are playing off your quiet, yet forward nature. Your goal is to coax me into taking liberties." Jude was so very tempted already. Perhaps he should consider giving lessons more often, if it stirred his blood so much. It was an idea he had given in to on impulse, but he was utterly taken with it.

  "Tempt me, lovely. Take full advantage of the situation. Thank me again, but this time offer a
desire to thank me or confess to perhaps being at a loss as to how to thank me. Lean forward a bit as you say it—invite me with body as much as with words. Remember: proximity and touch."

  They really would have to overcome those red cheeks, endearing though they were. Crispin gave a slow blink, eyes darker than ever, then leaned forward slightly and nervously touched his tongue to his lips. "Thank you, my lord, for your generous hospitality."

  Perfect, really. Jude rather suspected that a natural seducer lurked beneath the flushed face and nervous mien—a surprisingly unpleasant thought, although Jude could not say why. He should be pleased. Natural aptitude would only make the lessons all the easier. Well, perhaps that was the problem. Jude didn't want easy.

  "Lord Jude, I am grateful for your hospitality, and would like to express my thanks. But I confess I'm at a loss as to how to do so properly," Crispin said, licked his lips again. The gesture was a perfect touch, even if he didn't realize it.

  Jude sank a hand into the soft, dark hair, tugging his head back to a sharper angle as he fell into the proper role for this little lesson. "I'm certain we can think of something, if you insist, but it is my pleasure to be your generous host."

  "I insist," Crispin replied, the words barely above a whisper, those eyes like dark sapphires lit by candlelight.

  Pleasant heat, a low-burning lust, curled through Jade. He bent to take Crispin's mouth in a kiss, because that was the natural conclusion to this little play. He'd intended to keep it brief, so as not to overwhelm, but the mouth beneath his was surprisingly soft and warm, flavored with brandy and delightfully pliant without being passive.

  Crispin's responses were awkward, clumsy, but he quickly grasped the basics. How strange a feeling, to know that Jude was the first to have done this. He avoided innocents like the plague, preferring the company of those who knew what they were about and would suffer no illusions. Nothing spoiled a dalliance like unwanted declarations of love and other such claptrap.

  But he was surprised that no one else had tumbled Crispin. Surprised, but also somehow pleased, and that he had no interest in thinking about.

  When Jude finally broke the kiss, Crispin looked thoroughly dazed and wonderfully mussed, and more than mildly affected. Jude almost smiled. His ego hardly needed the stroking, but he liked to see a mere kiss have such a strong affect. It was, however, more than a little astonishing that the kiss affected him.

  Attributing it to an amusing distraction after so many weeks of ennui, Jude sat back and smiled in approval. "Well done for a first lesson. And I am beginning to get a clearer picture of how I should instruct you." He idly reached out and brushed back a loose strand of damp hair from Crispin's cheek, then sat all the way back in his own seat. "Now, if you would, pour us some tea and we shall move right along."

  Nodding, face hot, Crispin moved to pour the tea. Jude considered and discarded instructions on teasing and playing with food, serving tea—such things required a degree of artifice and playfulness that would likely prove too much for Crispin right then.

  He accepted his tea as Crispin offered it, letting their fingers brush. He held the fragile-looking green and blue porcelain cup lightly, sipping idly. Dark and sweet, exactly as he liked it. Taking another sip, he then set the teacup aside and reached for a bit of savory pie, eating it slowly as he regarded Crispin, who sat quietly eating a scone and sipping tea. Another bit of pie kept Jude from reaching out to stroke the still-red cheeks.

  So easily embarrassed, so shy and awkward—yet there was undeniable boldness just waiting to be let out. Boldness or pure determination…desperation? Either way, it was remarkable. Jude was impressed and, despite himself, wanted suddenly, badly to know who would inspire so quiet a man to such lengths as these.

  "For whom do you take these lessons?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Seduction works all the better when tailored to the last detail for a specific person. What arouses one will repel another."

  Crispin shrugged, eyes meeting his briefly before skittering away. "I feel foolish enough, my lord, without confessing the object of my affection. I beg of you not to demand of me a name."

  Jude moved before he thought, licking crumbs from his lips as he loomed over Crispin. He braced his hands on either side of him, forcing Crispin to lean back, putting him at a lovely angle. "Well, normally I would demand…but I like the way you beg, pretty pupil."

  The blue eyes widened, Crispin drawing a sharp breath, and the heat from the kiss that had only just dissipated came back in full. Before he realized what he was doing, Jude was kissing him again, taking all of the pleasure to be had from Crispin's warm, untutored mouth.

  Jude broke the kiss, sternly admonishing himself to focus. "You are proving to be the finest of pupils." He rubbed his thumb over the kiss-swollen lips. "Fine indeed. Which brings me to a question that perhaps I should have addressed sooner: how much do you want to learn from me? A line must be drawn somewhere, after all."

  Crispin stared at him, and then his chin lifted slightly in a gesture of stubbornness that only young men could affect so well. "I want to know what you know, my lord. All of it. I did not agree to this only to do things by half."

  "Good answer," Jude murmured, satisfaction making his blood hot. Oh, the things he would enjoy teaching this one… A better man would feel ashamed at the idea of taking such advantage of Crispin, but Jude had always enjoyed being a rake; let the better men have their rules and propriety. He wanted Crispin hot and slick with sweat, gasping beneath him or atop him, riding him with that strange mixture of shy and bold. "Three months isn't quite enough time for everything I know, but I think we can certainly get close."

  Sitting back, Jude retrieved his tea and sipped it slowly. "So tell me more about yourself, if you will not speak of the object of your affections. If we are not to know the prey, then we must know the hunter."

  Crispin laughed, but there was an unmistakable trace of sadness in it. "There's not much to tell. The youngest of three and I take after my mother. I studied abroad in her homeland for a couple of years." His mouth quirked in a smile. "It was good to return home; I never developed a true taste for most of the food there. Too spicy."

  "I never favored it myself," Jude said, smiling. "In fact, I believe that one of those confounded dishes rendered me sick abed for three days. I have stuck to less interesting dishes ever since."

  "I suspect I know which dish was the culprit," Crispin said, hesitant smile turning into a grin. "My mother occasionally has the cooks make her the food she misses. I always eat every bite, but I vow I can't feel my mouth for days after."

  Jude laughed and set his empty cup down. Before he could move to pour more, Crispin was already doing so, fixing it quickly and smiling shyly, but with a hint of playfulness, as he handed the cup back. Oh, a natural indeed. It was becoming increasingly clear that Crispin didn't need a teacher so much as he needed a chance.

  Reaching out to accept the freshly filled teacup, Jude let his fingers brush Crispin's again, lingering for a few seconds this time. "You are taking well to your lessons," he murmured, gazing at Crispin over the rim of his teacup.

  Crispin flushed. "My lord is a fine instructor."

  "Have you any plans for the rest of day?"

  "No, my lord."

  Jude chuckled and set his teacup down. "Now, did we not already dispense with formalities? If you are going to continue to address me so, I shall have to cease calling you 'Crispin' and that would be a pity."

  "Oh. Of course, my—" Crispin licked his lips and his voice had softened when he spoke again. "Jude. My apologies."

  He'd not heard his name said that sweetly in many long years. As if being permitted to say it were a privilege, rather than a right. A dangerous thought slipped into his mind, that whoever had snared Crispin was very lucky indeed. He did not like it, that thought. Dismissing it, Jude focused on the matter at hand.

  Cupping Crispin's chin, Jude tugged him gently forward and brushed a slow kiss across his mouth, wondering at the w
ay it burned right through him. "Well, if you have no plans, then remain here with me the rest of the day. You take so well to your lessons that we may as well keep them going at a vigorous pace."

  Ah, yes. There were the delightful red cheeks. "As you wish. I should send my family a note, however, for they will miss me come the dinner hour."

  "Send any note you like," Jude said, letting go and sitting back, sipping his tea. "It certainly does me no harm for all to know you dally here with me. For your part, it would help to make you a man of experience in the eyes of your true love, to know that I have coaxed you into my lair, hmm? So send your note, and by tomorrow afternoon, all will know that you have entered into a dalliance with me." He smiled. "Why, come the Summer Gala, you will have your man all but melting in your palm."

  Crispin smiled faintly, staring into his tea for a long moment. Finally he looked up. "As you say. Very well. If you have the materials, I will pen a note to my family." He laughed briefly. "I half-wish I was home to see the looks upon their faces. The very moment I return, they will pester me with a hundred questions."

  Jude smirked and pitched his voice low, injecting unmistakable intent into his tone. "If I do my job right, pet, no questions will be necessary; the answers will be there for all to see."

  That got him an adorable little squeak, and Jude brushed the barest kiss across Crispin's mouth, savoring the startled breath, the soft, pleased noise, the heady mix of eager and shy.

  This boy would be delightfully dangerous to whoever unwittingly held his heart. The man had better have the sense to care for it once he was aware.

  Mercy, what ridiculous thoughts. Where were they coming from? Perhaps he had been bored so long that he had forgotten what it was like not to be bored. It was going straight to his head. That was all.

  Jude stood and crossed the room to the bell pull, summoning a servant to fetch writing implements, mind spinning with what they would be learning next.

  *~*~*

  He suspected he was spying or cheating or something equally unbecoming his character, but Jude could not bring himself to care. In fact, the only thing which bothered him at present was that he still lacked an answer to the burning question that gave him no rest: who did Crispin love?