Released

by Adella J. Harris

  At least that had been his plan until Harrison entered the breakfast room with a letter from Mr. Perkins. Lionel had come to dread having his post brought to the breakfast room, mainly because it reminded him of how often he could have spoken to Jim, made Jim feel welcome, rather than holding him out some sort of a reward for work completed. Perkins’s letter had to be better than thinking of that.

  The letter was extremely polite, but the gist of it was that his mother’s original illness had improved, but she had caught a chill and wanted her son to stay with her. Perkins was certain Lionel would understand and continue to fill in as magistrate for a few more weeks. Lionel threw down the letter. He couldn’t argue with a man wanting to see his ailing mother, even if the woman had been ailing from one thing or another as long as anyone had known her. And even if he sent Perkins a letter immediately saying he had urgent business in London, and even if Perkins left his mother’s side at once to return instead of sending back a response pleading for him to continue to act as magistrate, by the time Perkins arrived, it would be too late to leave for London and do anything but turn around and return for the house party. Looking for Jim would have to wait a little longer.

  “Is something not to your liking, my lord?”

  “What? Oh, no, everything’s fine.” It wasn’t Harrison’s fault. “Tell Baxter I won’t be leaving tomorrow after all. Perkins’s mother has taken a chill.”

  “I’m very sorry, my lord. Not that we wanted you to leave, of course. But still, I’m very sorry.” Harrison bowed and left in what seemed to be a great hurry.

  Lionel refolded the letter and shoved it on the bottom of the stack. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Harrison knew he had some other motive for wanting to go to London beside preparations for the party or business concerns. At least he had Robert’s help to look forward to.

  Jim managed to make it back to London without spending all of his remaining money, but the trip didn’t leave him with enough to start out in something respectable. It was enough that he could stay at a cheap inn and plan his future, but not for long, not if he wanted anything left. He stared out of the window at the familiar streets and considered his options. He could always go back to Madame Rosamond’s. She specialized in gentlemen with unusual desires, and she ran a good house. She didn’t cheat, and she threw out anyone who was trouble. And she got away with it by keeping detailed records, so anyone who went to the authorities would find their deviances becoming public knowledge. It was rumored she knew the youthful peccadillos of enough members of parliament to get a law passed if she wanted to.

  That was the problem, though. Madame Rosamond had a reputation, and if Lionel knew anything about the sorts of places men who shared his desires went for entertainment, he’d know to start looking for Jim there.

  That was the trouble with most places. If he started looking, Lionel would eventually be sent to most of his old employers. There weren’t many other good choices. He could always try working a street corner on his own. It was dangerous, which was why he’d been glad to give that up, but it was possible, and he could quit when he wanted to. If only he had more of Dixon’s money left. He could hole up in some little boarding house for a few months until the money ran out, and Lionel got tired of looking. If Lionel even bothered to look. He didn’t know if Lionel was even trying. Why would he?

  He could always sign up for another stint as Dixon’s concubine. He certainly couldn’t fall any farther than he had. But something about that made his flesh crawl. He didn’t want that again, not for a whole year. Maybe there was someone else willing to pay to keep him somewhere for a shorter time, enough to get him out of Lionel’s reach.

  In the end, he decided to see some of his old friends from Madame Rosamond’s. They would know enough to keep their mouths shut if anyone came looking for him, and wouldn’t ask enough questions to know anything useful anyway. And if there were opportunities for someone like him to make money, they would have heard about it.

  It wasn’t hard to find people he’d known. Jim went to one of the pubs where they had all gone for drinks and almost immediately spotted two acquaintances from Madame Rosamond’s, Jacques and Sanford, with a third man he didn’t recognize but who he identified at once as another whore. When he went over to their table, he was greeted warmly, introduced to Henry, and invited to join them and order a drink. No one asked where he’d been or why he’d been gone for more than two years, which was a relief. Once he’d been caught up on the latest gossip, he knew he couldn’t put off the reason for his visit. “Now that I’m back in town, I’m in need of work.”

  Sanford smiled. “I’m sure Madame Rosamond will be happy to have you back.”

  That was the tricky part. “I was hoping for something else. Something other than a—house like Madame Rosamond’s. Something a little more private, but temporary. I’m only in town for a little while, and I’m avoiding someone.”

  “And they’d know to look for you at Rosamond’s?” Sanford asked as if he knew the answer. They probably thought he’d come to a private arrangement with one of his regulars that went sour. It seemed a good thing to let them think, so he nodded.

  Jacques leaned back in his chair. “All I know of is Dixon.”

  Jim swallowed his mouthful of beer quickly so he wouldn’t be tempted to spit it out. He’d thought that would be his only option now, but he’d hoped. “What’s he looking for?”

  “He’s having a house party and needs a centerpiece. He doesn’t have time to find a new concubine, so he’s looking for someone experienced. The pay is good, if you can stand him.”

  “He’s not so bad,” Sanford said. “It’s all those servants and the stable workers and the farm crew he brings in.”

  Henry shuddered. “Not for me.”

  A house party. When he’d worked for Dixon, he’d been the centerpiece at more than one. Henry was right, there’d been every man in Dixon’s employ and all of his guests lined up to use him, but it wouldn’t last for more than a week, and if the pay was good, he could hole up in some little corner and wait for the last few days to be a memory, then get back to his life, such as it was. He tried to sound casual, disinterested, merely curious about a bit of gossip. “Who’s he got doing the procuring?”

  Jacques looked shocked that he was even considering it, but Sanford answered, “That servant of his, Murdoc.”

  It could have been worse. Murdoc was bad enough, but Jim preferred dealing with him to Balford. “And you don’t know of anything else?” Why would he have thought Lionel would understand what he’d done when even the other whores here wouldn’t understand why he had done it? They would look down on him too if they knew the truth about the last two years.

  “Sorry,” Jacques said, meaning it. “We’ll ask around, though. There’s got to be something better than Dixon for you. Maybe if Farnsdale comes in.”

  “No, he’s friends with the man I’m trying to avoid.” That had been a mistake. Farnsdale wasn’t known for having friends.

  No one asked any questions about that, for which Jim was grateful. Maybe they’d taken it to mean a business acquaintance. Jim gulped down the rest of his beer before they could ask anything else. “I’ll keep looking then. Maybe one of the other places I’ve worked has heard of something. I’ll see you around.”

  There were friendly waves as he left. Jim smiled back, acting as if he really would see them again. When he reached the street, he turned his steps towards Dixon’s brothel. There would be no other offers. It was best to simply get it over with.

  It was Murdoc at the door. Murdoc who’d been the cause of all of this on the road to Beckwood Hall. He grinned when he saw Jim and took him straight through to the office. Lord Dixon looked up when Jim entered. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.”

  “I heard you needed a centerpiece for a house party.”

  “And you spent all that lovely money I gave you?”

  Jim wasn’t about to tell him what had happened. He kept th
e focus on the matter at hand. “As your house party is less than a week away, I would think you’d be happy to have someone fully trained and ready to please your guests.”

  “And you know how to please. Strip. Let’s see if I still like what I see.”

  Jim knew it was an attempt to make him nervous, but he’d been naked around Dixon more often than he’d been clothed, so he undressed and stood in a posture sufficiently submissive for Dixon while still showing every inch of his body.

  Dixon circled him slowly then slapped his arse hard and admired the color. “Still pink up well, I see.” He parted the cheeks and ran his finger between them. “Still flexible as well. I think I’ll get Balford and Murdoc to take you at the same time up on stage. Give them both a chance to flog this pretty skin then fuck you at both ends. What do you think?”

  “Whatever you’d like for the term of my contract.”

  “Three weeks, standard pay. You’d report to the townhouse on Friday to be brought out to the Beckwood Hall.”

  Beckwood Hall. It was just a few miles from Hensley House and Lionel. “I’d want a few concessions.”

  “Such as?”

  “I get afternoons off while the guests are sleeping, and I get to keep my clothes so I can leave to enjoy the country air.” It was foolish, but if there was a chance of seeing Lionel, even for a moment—not that he would speak to him or let him know he was there.

  “One afternoon a week, and you only get the clothes on those days.”

  Jim was shocked that Dixon was actually considering it. Dixon was truly desperate if he was agreeing. “And an extra twenty percent pay.”

  Dixon sighed and shoved a finger up Jim’s arse. “If I wasn’t so desperate for a trained boy for this party. Ten percent, and you’ll be paid at the end. Remember, I can still get some untried whore and change the program of events. Just because I’ve planned for Murdoc and Balford to entertain with a demonstration the first night doesn’t mean there can be interesting scenes showing someone falling into the depths of degradation, as you well know.”

  Jim didn’t want to be reminded of some of the things he’d done for Dixon. “No, I think that meets my demands. I’ll want to see them written into the contract.”

  “Naturally. You may dress while I add them.”

  Jim pulled his clothes back on then went to the desk and read the changes Dixon had made. He checked from several angles, but it seemed he was getting what he expected, so he signed his name and handed back the pen.

  “Very well. Be at the townhouse at six Friday morning. Balford will be waiting for you.”

  Of course it would be Balford. “Very good, my lord.”

  Lionel rubbed at his temples. Planning a house party of Randall’s clients shouldn’t be this difficult. He sighed. It wasn’t the party that was bothering him; it was the delay in looking for Jim. He’d gone through all of the newspapers that had been in the library when Jim had been staying, hoping to find some indication of where he might have gone, but there had been nothing, no marks, not even a coffee stain on a page that might have shown someplace Jim had paused to read more closely. If Robert didn’t have any ideas of where to look... No, of course Robert would know where to look. He had to. He even had connections to Lord Dixon. He might know why even the mention of it had bothered Jim badly enough to make him leave.

  Lionel didn’t realize someone had come into the study until Mrs. Barton’s arm leaned over him and refilled the teacup. “Thank you,” he said absently.

  “I don’t wish to bother you, sir.”

  Lionel sat up. “No bother. I was woolgathering, I’m afraid.” Mrs. Barton was still hesitating, so he nodded encouragingly.

  “I have a nephew.”

  Lionel wasn’t sure if he was supposed to respond to that, so he waited, trying to look like that bit of information was fascinating on its own merits.

  “He’s looking for a new position, and Mrs. O’Brien thought I should bring it up with you.”

  That made some sense, at least. There were plenty of openings at the house. “What is he doing now?”

  “He’s a footman at Gorling Place.”

  That was owned by the Carsons. Lionel had been to a dinner or two there. Austere, kept to the old ways, but he didn’t know the Carsons well. Still, a young man could have many reasons for wanting a change. And the house party was showing him just how understaffed they were. “I think that could be arranged, if he wasn’t looking for promotion.”

  “Well, sir, he has a friend, you see.”

  And now they were getting to the crux of the matter. The Carsons probably did not allow staff to marry. That would explain everything. “And what does the friend do?”

  “He’s another footman, sir.”

  Lionel’s head snapped up. Another footman. Could she possibly mean... Mrs. Barton chewed on her bottom lip but didn’t drop her gaze. She knew. She knew about him and Jim, or what he wished were true of him and Jim. And it was Mrs. O’Brien who had suggested she bring this problem to him. And neither of them had quit, or told the rest of the staff, or done any of the things he’d feared would happen. Lionel swallowed. “They’d have to share a room. There aren’t that many that we can be overly generous.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

  Lionel smiled. “Then have them send me their salary requirements, and I’ll give the matter my full consideration as soon as matters here are settled.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be quite happy with what you give Peters. I’ll tell them to write at once.”

  Lionel glanced down at the list of events for the house party. “Pity they won’t be here in time for this fiasco.”

  “It will be fine, sir. And Sir Robert is coming, isn’t he? I’m sure he can help. With the guests, I mean.”

  “Of course you did. And I do hope he can help.” Because if he couldn’t, Lionel had no idea where to turn.

  Chapter 16

  ***

  LIONEL WAS RELIEVED WHEN THE DAY OF THE HOUSE PARTY finally dawned. It meant Robert would be arriving soon, and he would be that much closer to looking for Jim. He didn’t even mind when Randall didn’t come down to help with preparations, as it meant he could ignore most of them and concentrate on finding Jim, which had become more worrying about Jim than doing anything productive, but still, it was something. But when the morning of the house party dawned and Randall still wasn’t there, he began to be irritated. If Randall was expecting him to entertain as well as provide the house, that meant he’d have to wait until guests started to retire for the night to have a private word with Robert, and with Randall’s guests, that could easily be sometime in the early morning. He was contemplating getting Harrison to invent some emergency, perhaps with his duties as magistrate, which would require him to leave the guests and deal with it. Robert was clever enough to figure out that he would be expected to follow.

  Lionel hadn’t gotten very far in the plan when he was relieved to find he wouldn’t need to use it. Randall managed to arrive before the rest of the guests, but barely. He didn’t bother to wait for Lionel to greet him but started wandering through the house, leaving Harrison to find Lionel and Lionel to figure out where to look for him.

  Lionel finally ran Randall to ground in the front hall. Randall didn’t bother to greet him or thank him for the preparations that were underway, or even acknowledge that he had just descended upon Lionel’s house at the last possible moment. Instead, he asked, “So what have you planned for entertainment? I don’t see anything in the ballroom. Did you rent someplace in town? Wouldn’t think this village would have anyplace to hold dancing.”

  “I didn’t have much time. Besides, I thought a ball would be in bad taste so close to Father’s death.”

  Randall seemed disappointed, and Lionel wondered which of the guests he’d wanted to seduce with his dancing. “Then what do you have planned for us?”

  Lionel allowed himself a catty moment. “I didn’t want to interfere with all the things you had planned
to entertain your guests.” Randall either ignored or, more likely, didn’t even understand the comment. “So I came up with a program of country entertainments.”

  “County entertainments?” Randall sounded upset. Clearly, it didn’t fit with his idea of a country house party.

  “You did say they liked the area where my house was situated.” And they had been easier to arrange while trying to plan how to find Jim. “We’ll start with a walk on the grounds, and Mrs. O’Brien has made a dinner featuring foods from the home farm, then a picnic the first morning, not too early of course, and some nice bird-watching by the river, arranged by my butler. Lawn games in the afternoon. And steeplechase the next day, with Garrett taking the ladies who don’t participate around in the barouche.”

  Randall yawned. “I suppose that will do. You could have come up with something a little more spectacular, though.”

  “Just think how much time you’ll have to talk about business. Now, I need to see how Mrs. O’Brien is getting along with dinner. I’ll see you later.” He already knew Mrs. O’Brien would be getting along just fine, but Randall had no idea how to host a party and wouldn’t know at all. And going to the kitchen would make it easier to avoid Randall.

  Lionel managed to avoid his brother until the guests started to arrive. Then he didn’t have much choice; he was the host and required to greet them. Randall seemed to think he was also the host and insisted on standing at the entrance, watching for the carriages to begin coming up the drive. Fortunately, Robert was one of the first guests to arrive. Lionel wanted to secure his help as soon as possible, before the house party took up too much of his time and all of his energy.