by Ava March
How was it possible to love the sight of something yet simultaneously hate himself for it?
“Thank you for knocking on my door tonight.”
Gabriel nodded. “Thank you for the invitation.” Then he crossed to the door he shouldn’t have knocked on and left Anthony’s apartments.
Chapter Four
“Thank you for sharing a supper table with me,” said Alexander Norton, one of Anthony’s old friends from Eton, as the two of them left the dining room to go back to the ballroom.
“It is I who owe you my thanks. You saved me from a supper spent at Farthingham’s table.” The older man was pleasant enough, but as he had been a friend of Anthony’s father’s, it would have been difficult to refuse him without a valid excuse. Anthony definitely hadn’t relished the notion of a meal filled with questions he couldn’t answer about the viscounty. Fortunately, Norton had appeared just in time with a request to join him for supper.
Norton’s blond head had barely turned in the direction of the ballroom’s double doors when he said, “Ah, Bennett’s arrived. His hotel manager must have finally let him go. If you’ll excuse me, Rawling.”
“But of course.” In any another situation, Anthony would be a bit irked to be left so hastily for another. But Norton was so clearly besotted with Bennett, and Bennett besotted in return, that it would be churlish of Anthony to get his feathers rumpled over the fact that Norton valued Bennett’s company over that of a friend.
As Norton’s slim form strode away, Anthony scanned Lady Garnier’s crowded ballroom. He had just skipped over Richard Bourne—the man had his usual condescending expression firmly in place—when his attention snapped to the gentleman conversing with Bourne. The man’s back was to Anthony, but he knew that neatly combed chestnut brown hair and that perfectly pressed navy coat. And he knew those broad, elegant shoulders. After all, he had been gripping hold of them only four nights ago.
Yet Anthony didn’t immediately cross to Gabriel. He lingered a couple of paces from the dining room’s door and waited.
In the past few days, he had only seen Gabriel once and it had just been a short meeting along a street. As he’d been with his mother—having agreed to go with her to his aunt’s for tea—there hadn’t been much more than a few polite words exchanged. It had been nice to introduce his mother to Gabriel. Still, he would have much preferred to have spent the afternoon with Gabriel than chatting about the goings-on of the ton with his mother and aunt.
The minutes ticked by. Neither Gabriel nor Bourne made a move to step away and end their conversation. Unwilling to linger the entire evening and give up Gabriel’s company to another, Anthony lifted his chin and strode over to them. The hell with Bourne, and the hell with avoiding him. What had Anthony ever seen in him anyway? Well, it had been more exploring a possibility, though the exploration hadn’t lasted long before it had become clear to Anthony that Bourne’s prattish exterior wasn’t hiding a kind soul.
Stopping at Gabriel’s side, Anthony clapped him on the shoulder. “Evening, Gabriel. Good to see you here. I take it your sister is about somewhere?” He gave Bourne a nod to acknowledge him.
Anthony saw the hint of a smile tip Gabriel’s lips before he turned his head toward Anthony. “Yes, I believe she’s over near the refreshment table. You are acquainted with Richard Bourne, correct?”
One could term it an acquaintanceship. “Yes.”
“We were just discussing an article in the Morning Post about a new method of cultivating grapes to produce superior wine.”
Bourne gave a little condescending shake of his head. “I’m certain Rawling didn’t see the article. He doesn’t read newspapers. If you ask him for the Times, he’ll reach for his pocket watch.”
Anthony’s breath stilled as his pulse began to race. Did Bourne know? That comment indicated that he might somehow suspect.
“Lord Rawling has more important things to do with his day.” Gabriel’s voice, strong and secure, penetrated the fog of panic. “Such things as managing a viscounty.” Green eyes, glinting with determination and comfort, met Anthony’s. “I’m of a mind to get some fresh air. Care to accompany me? I find the ballroom tediously full of bores.”
Anthony blinked, then his brain clicked into motion. “Sounds like a capital idea.”
And without another glance to Bourne, Gabriel turned on his heel.
Anthony followed closely behind as Gabriel weaved through the crowd, his long strides eating up the distance to the double doors that led to the terrace. Gabriel’s pace didn’t slacken as he pushed open one of the doors. It wasn’t until he reached the terrace’s stone railing that he stopped.
Yet he didn’t turn to face Anthony. Resting his hands on the rail, he looked out to the garden. The moon above illuminated the dark forms of bushes cultivated into a tidy maze pattern. “You were correct. Bourne has indeed become a prat.” Irritation radiated from Gabriel. Could that be irritation on Anthony’s behalf? “I shan’t acknowledge him again.”
“He was more boorish than usual because I showed up.” Anthony leaned a hip against the cool stone rail. “He doesn’t much care for me anymore.”
“Did you do something to incite his ire?”
Anthony glanced about the terrace. Finding it void of anyone but their two selves, he answered, “In a roundabout way. Though he tossed me aside, so one would think I’m the party who should feel grieved. But I don’t. Didn’t take me long to realize he wasn’t the one.”
Apparently no longer interested in the view of the garden, Gabriel snapped his attention to Anthony. “The two of you were lovers?”
Perhaps Anthony shouldn’t have implied that he had known Bourne in an intimate fashion. While he wasn’t certain if Gabriel would consider them together yet, they could be classified as lovers—after all, he and Gabriel had made very good use of his couch four nights ago. And current lovers didn’t tend to much care for discussions that pertained to prior lovers. Then again, Anthony had already told Gabriel that he wasn’t a monk. So Gabriel shouldn’t get upset upon learning Anthony was well acquainted with at least one member of the ton. “For a time we were. Does that bother you?”
Gabriel’s mouth thinned. The man needn’t even voice a reply. The look on his face was answer enough. But instead of a “damned right it does,” he said, “It bothers me that he was rude to you.”
“And hence why you gave him a put-down then cut him. You should be wearing armor.” At Gabriel’s puzzled expression, Anthony added, “You came to my rescue.” He shouldn’t like the idea so much—he shouldn’t need nor want someone to stand up for him—and Gabriel couldn’t know the full scope of the threat Bourne had possibly been hinting at. But still, he did very much like that Gabriel cared enough to want to protect him.
Gabriel made a sound under his breath—a cross between a harrumph and a grunt—as if he wasn’t sure what to think about Anthony labeling his actions as a rescue. “Regardless, he shouldn’t have been so rude. As you said, if anyone should feel grieved about the situation, it should be you, not him.”
“Yes, but I think he realized I wasn’t invested in the relationship and that’s why he ended matters between us. Hence my ‘in a roundabout way’ comment.” For all of Bourne’s selfish, boorish tendencies, for a short time there, Anthony had thought he had seen glimpses of the man developing real feelings for him. Feelings that went beyond what one typically felt toward an occasional bed partner.
Maybe Anthony should have ended matters between them as soon as he’d realized Bourne wasn’t the one. But Bourne had actually been pretty decent between the sheets and there hadn’t been anyone else at the time who had caught Anthony’s attention. And it wasn’t as if Bourne had started declaring his undying affection for Anthony, so he’d allowed the relationship to continue on until Bourne had done the walking away.
A pattern that had become
quite familiar over the years. His lovers tended to leave him, often for someone else, though with Bourne, he didn’t believe that had been the case.
Would that pattern be repeated with Gabriel?
After all, Gabriel had been the one to start the pattern. Hell, before they could even become lovers back then, Gabriel had left him for someone else.
The old pain rose up. Before it could stab him in the heart once again, Anthony pushed it aside. That was then, and this was now. Both he and Gabriel were older, wiser. Just because Gabriel had chosen someone else over himself seven years ago, didn’t mean it would happen again. And Gabriel hadn’t shown even the slightest interest in women over the past week or so.
In fact, Gabriel had shown a decided interest in Anthony. Had even charged to his rescue this evening.
The man deserved a kiss for that. Hell, he deserved more than a kiss.
Pushing from the rail, Anthony gave Gabriel a friendly slap on the upper arm. “Come along. Enough of the terrace. Let’s take a walk in the garden.”
“Why?”
“Why not?” Unable to hide his smile, Anthony crossed the width of the terrace, the golden light from the ballroom streaming through the windows to create patterns on the flagstone, and descended the stairs.
* * *
For a moment, Gabriel was rooted to the spot. The sound of Anthony’s footsteps echoed about him. Then the click of his shoes against stone gave way to the soft swoosh of grass.
Even though he knew he shouldn’t, even though he suspected Anthony wanted them to do more than merely walk about the garden, Gabriel followed him.
It seemed logic and good sense went out the window whenever he was near Anthony.
He caught up with Anthony before the man made it halfway to the hedge maze. And it hadn’t escaped his notice that Anthony hadn’t once looked back. Anthony had clearly been confident Gabriel would follow...and with good cause.
The September night air held a trace of autumn’s damp chill, but it wasn’t in the least bit unpleasant. Lady Garnier’s home was on the outskirts of Mayfair. For the city, it was a large estate with an equally large garden. Though he’d been able to keep from knocking on Anthony’s door for the past four days, he hadn’t been able to fool himself into believing his eagerness to escort Sarah to tonight’s function was simply a desire to attend his first London ball. And honestly, the function had been just as boring and just as full of pretense as every other function he’d attended since he’d arrived in Town...until Anthony had shown up at his side.
Gabriel had known a brief moment of actually enjoying himself at a social function, and then Bourne had had to go and ruin it. Thank goodness they had been surrounded by a good two hundred members of the ton, else Gabriel would have punched Bourne for being so rude to Anthony, and Gabriel had never before been roused to the point of physical anger. It hadn’t been merely Bourne’s words, either. It had been Anthony’s reaction. The way he had gone stiff and the color had drained from his handsome face, no quick retort forthcoming from his tongue. Bourne had known exactly how to wound his ex-lover.
How dare he imply Anthony was too frivolous to even know the Times was a newspaper?
Bastard.
At least Anthony wasn’t upset with Gabriel over the incident.
“Shall we see if we can get lost in the maze?” Anthony asked.
“The hedges aren’t tall enough to get lost within.” The foliage—looked to be boxwood—would only make it to Gabriel’s waist. If needed, they could jump their way out.
“We could pretend they are.” Anthony threw him a smirk.
Gabriel chuckled. “If you insist.”
“I don’t insist, but it would make the maze more interesting.”
They entered the maze and were immediately met with a choice—right or left.
“Which direction shall we take?” Gabriel asked, determined to play along since it would please Anthony.
“Left. Most would naturally go to the right, so let’s take the path less traveled.”
“All right.” Trust Anthony to take the unconventional choice. Though one might assume Anthony was just a typical young buck about Town who frequented White’s and adeptly moved about Society, the man’s goal in life was anything but conventional. And he embraced that goal as if it was completely natural to find lasting love with another man.
The notion still staggered Gabriel, and not only because it was chock-full of risk, but because it hit upon the yearning he’d tried to stifle for so many years. Was still trying to stifle. He wanted to be that man for Anthony, even though he knew he could never be.
They turned left and the gravel path narrowed so he had to walk shoulder to shoulder with Anthony in order to remain beside him. Gloved fingers brushed gloved fingers with each step, though Gabriel was able to resist the urge to take hold of Anthony’s hand. They weren’t very far into the maze yet, and someone could look out a window from the ball and possibly make out the shadowed form of their joined hands.
“I may not keep up with the news in the papers,” Anthony said, his low voice cutting through the silence, “but I make it a point to attend Parliament when it’s in session. Rarely miss a day,” he added, as if needing to offer proof to Gabriel that he wasn’t one of those idle lords who didn’t take their responsibilities seriously and only attended sporadically.
“It’s all right. I know Bourne was just being an arse, Anthony.”
“Parliament’s currently out of session, else I would have been there and you wouldn’t have bumped into me on my way to my aunt’s on Thursday.”
“Really, it’s all right.” Gabriel wrapped his fingers around Anthony’s hand, gave it a comforting squeeze. The hell with the ball. They’d made several turns in the maze, the hedges reached their waists and it was dark. “I put no stock in Bourne’s remark.”
There was absolutely no need for Anthony to defend himself, and the fact that Anthony felt that need made Gabriel’s fist itch anew to become acquainted with Bourne’s jaw.
Anthony cast him a quick glance, as if unsure if Gabriel was just being polite or if Gabriel was being honest.
Goddamned Bourne. That the man had instilled such uncertainty in Anthony...
“You have my apologies, Anthony. If I would have listened to your warning, I would not have even spoken to him tonight and he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be an arse to you. Rest assured, I shan’t acknowledge him again.”
It mattered not that Gabriel had been making an effort to be somewhat social at the ball. Obviously, he wasn’t familiar enough with the ton yet to know who might want to cause trouble. Until he figured that out, it would be safer to continue to keep to himself at functions.
Anthony shrugged. “Thank you for understanding,” he murmured.
“Shall I challenge him to pistols at dawn?”
For that, he got a chuckle from Anthony, the melancholy finally slipping away. “You would do that for me?”
I would do anything for you.
It would be scandalous. It was against the law. It could see him fleeing to the Continent. But at the moment, he didn’t care. All that mattered was making Anthony smile again.
“Yes, I would,” Gabriel replied, all seriousness.
The moonlight illuminated the smile spreading across Anthony’s face, his eyes glinting with happiness. “You definitely need to be wearing armor. But no worries, I don’t want you to issue any challenges on my behalf. No dawn meetings, I have your word?”
Gabriel inclined his head. “Yes, you have my word.”
The path let out into a grass clearing in the middle of the maze. Instead of the usual statue or fountain that adorned many garden mazes, there was an ornamental grotto made out of stone. It wasn’t overly large—perhaps ten feet in height with an overall length of another ten feet or so. Gabrie
l couldn’t make out the details of the curved interior, but likely there were a few shelves along the stone wall to hold vases or potted plants in the summer months.
The back of the grotto faced the house, shielding the interior from view of those at the ball.
And Gabriel couldn’t hold back another moment.
He tugged Anthony to the structure. As soon as they were within the dense shadows of its interior, he pushed Anthony toward the nearest curved wall. With a hand cupping Anthony’s jaw, Gabriel claimed his mouth.
The sweet taste of Anthony, the way he wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck and dove into the kiss... Gabriel’s head spun. Passion and need and that utter sense of rightness coursed through his veins. How had he been able to go four days without Anthony in his arms?
Their tongues twined together. Gabriel pressed closer to Anthony, needing to feel the strong bulk of his body. An unmistakable hard arch of an erection pressed against his own. Anthony moaned, then ground against him.
Gabriel wanted so much more. Here. Now. Yet that was impossible. Frustration rode heavy beneath the hard bite of lust. He grabbed hold of Anthony’s hip, held his lover still yet pressed tight against him, as his kisses turned more demanding.
Anthony pulled back just enough to break the kiss. “We’re completely concealed,” he whispered. His panting breaths scorched across Gabriel’s cheek. “With that gravel path, we’d hear anyone coming before they could see us. And it’s dark in the shadows. I could suck you off right here. Drop to my knees, suck on your gorgeous cock, swallow your seed. Yes?”
Damnation, the prospect of Anthony’s mouth on his prick? He could still vividly recall the brief decadent touch of Anthony’s tongue to his crown, and to have more of that? Yet he wanted even more from Anthony. Wanted all of Anthony, but the risk was too great. “Anthony,” he said, frustration turning his tone stern, harsh.
“This from the man who gripped my arse so hard he left bruises. I know—I looked in the mirror.”