Benedict advanced on Lewes, making the other man yelp with fright as he took hold of his lapel and jerked him closer. Lewes stood several inches shorter than Benedict, and had to crane his neck to gape up at him. Benedict stared into fearful eyes and searched for any glimmer of dishonesty or malice. The man had been upset at being cast aside. Had he then retaliated by ousting him to Cynthia?
“Did you happen to encounter one of her servants at a molly house?” he demanded.
Lewes’s mouth gaped open, unintelligible sounds of protest emitting from within. “I say! What an accusation for you to make! I’ve never stepped foot inside such an establishment!”
Benedict stared Lewes down, but aside from the terror of a man poised on the other end of his fist, there was nothing. He released Lewes, reminding himself that paranoia would only lead to irrational action. What he needed was to clear his head and think rationally.
“The London Gossip is on to me and the other courtesans, so you would do well to keep your distance,” he said.
Lewes pressed a hand over his mouth, chin trembling while he gazed about the room as if searching for an escape route. “Dear God. How?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. I intend to put a stop to her machinations. Do as I’ve said and stay away from me if you value your reputation.”
Lewes’s cheeks flushed pink as he moved toward the door with disjointed, clumsy movements. “Yes, of course … I … I’m sorry, I … I’ll go.”
Benedict sank back into his chair once Lewes was gone, bracing his head in his hands. He felt as if a sword hung over his head, but he couldn’t move from beneath it because more deadly blades surrounded him on all sides—threatening both his security and his sanity. There must be a way out; he simply needed to find it.
Chapter 5
“Mrs. R, the wife of London’s most adored painter, is said to be approaching her time of confinement. We await with bated breath to find out whether Baby R will be a
girl or a boy. Those who haven’t yet placed their bets at White’s ought to make haste—there isn’t much time left.”
-The London Gossip, 27 January 1820
Alex paced from one side of the drawing room to the other, hands clasped behind his back. He trembled with anxiousness and anticipation, waiting for the moment Ben would appear. What he had overheard while eavesdropping outside a drawing room during the ball had shaken him to his core. He wasn’t ashamed to have spied on Ben, desperate for any hint of what his bizarre exchange with Cynthia Milbank had been all about. Before marrying Katherine and leaving London, Alex had known of Mr. Milbank’s plans to ingratiate himself into the ton, and that they included his only child—a daughter. Rumors had begun to swirl that he’d become fast friends with Viscount Sterling. It was easy enough to deduce that the two fathers had marriage on the mind, but Alex had never thought Ben might acquiesce to such a scheme. Ben was stronger than him and didn’t have a cowardly bone in his body. Yet, seeing him dance with her and watching what appeared to be an intense conversation, Alex had found himself questioning his beliefs.
After the waltz, Ben had retreated in the company of his presumed mistress, and Alex couldn’t allow such an opportunity to pass him by. He had followed them, watching from the shadows of the corridor as they entered one of the drawing rooms. Alex thought it odd for Lady Browning to leave alone, and his curiosity had been piqued when another gentleman appeared from the other end of the corridor, melting away from the darkness to be illuminated by firelight once he’d opened the door.
He was a slight man but handsome—ridiculously so. Jealousy and annoyance had prompted Alex to listen at the keyhole, and what he’d heard had changed his entire strategy. Alex would never have pegged Ben as one who might resort to selling himself, but the more Alex thought of it, the more it made sense. Since Eton, Ben had been determined not to rely on his father, which was why he’d supplemented his meager monthly allowance using his fists all the way through his completion of university. Not long after amassing an impressive pile of winnings from his brawls, Ben had returned the most recent payment of his allowance to his father, along with a letter in which he told the viscount to go to the devil. From then on, he had won everything that was his by fighting and with smart investments, which had afforded him the comforts he had lacked during his first years at school.
Ben had managed to support himself without going to the viscount for a single pence for years. But, Alex assumed something had changed Ben’s circumstances in the past few years. With no other recourse, Alex could imagine him crafting the idea of going to business as a paramour to men who secretly desired other men. But there was more to it than that, for he had overheard Ben claiming that the London Gossip was on to him and ‘the other courtesans.’ There were several others, which made him the likely orchestrator of the entire thing. It was so like Ben to not only scheme to earn the income he needed, but to take others under his wing in the process. Ben had many flaws, but no one could accuse him of not caring about those in his inner circle. At times he cared too much, and that presented its own set of problems.
With this new knowledge tucked away in his mind, Alex had decided on a new course of action. He’d known from the start that to reveal everything to Ben would be difficult, and his last few attempts proved that. Using this new information, Alex could take control of the situation and limit Ben’s options to flee—creating the opportunity to resolve their issues. In the process, perhaps he could learn more about what was going on between Ben and Cynthia Milbank, and lend a hand in helping put a stop to this London Gossip business. In the end, if he couldn’t win Ben’s heart again, perhaps Alex could solve this problem for him.
Alex went still, glancing up as the butler appeared on the threshold.
“Mr. Sterling will receive you in his study. Right this way, my lord.”
The door to the study hung ajar, allowing Alex a view of Ben sitting behind his desk. He didn’t look up from the paper he scribbled on when the butler closed the door, furrowing his brow as he studied a row of figures jotted on a scrap of paper. A ledger sat open before him, riddled with Ben’s haphazard, nearly illegible handwriting.
Alex sank into a chair, crossing one leg over the other as he watched Ben work, content to drink in the sight of him. His lack of cravat and coat exposed the thick column of his throat and offered the barest glimpse at tufts of chest hair. He hadn’t been shaved this morning, and dark blond whiskers had already overtaken the topography of his jaw. Alex’s face tingled at the memory of that facial hair tickling him during a kiss, and his fingers longed to trail through the wiry strands of his side-whiskers.
For lack of something to do with his hands—short of hauling Ben out of that chair and kissing him soundly—Alex reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the small pouch of sugarplums he had stashed there this morning. The flow of sugar through his veins mingled with the heady rush of being near Ben again, making him feel slightly giddy. He was chewing his fifth sweet when Ben spoke, though he kept his head lowered over his work.
“This is an interesting change,” he muttered.
“How so?” Alex asked.
“You’ve decided you prefer to sit and observe me as if I’m under a microscope, rather than resuming the campaign to convince me to forgive you.”
“Ah. Well, that’s because I haven’t come to beg for forgiveness.”
Ben’s paused, pen hovering over his paper, and Alex briefly made out random figures being added together.
Ben’s gaze flicked to him briefly before he resumed his task. “Then why are you here? I have no intention of allowing you to dress me, if that’s it.”
Alex smirked. “Pity. I just purchased a stunning damask from Aubrey that I think would make the perfect waistcoat for you. Oh, and this burgundy broadcloth I just adore … it’d make a stunning pair of coats for us both.”
Ben snorted and shook his head. “It’s as if you want to advertise to the entire city that we’re a pair of backgammon players.
”
Alex chuckled. “Nonsense. They’ll all simply assume you were inspired by my exquisite taste, as the rest of the men of London are. I spied four men on my way here wearing yellow-dyed cravats.”
“People without sense are easily influenced. Don’t allow it to make you think too highly of yourself.”
“It is too late,” Alex argued. “I consider myself quite the thing.”
With an exasperated sigh, Ben laid his pen aside and met Alex’s gaze. “I don’t have time to play games, Alex. If you could get to the point of your visit—”
“I’ve come to make a deal with you.”
Ben frowned. “What kind of deal?”
Alex replaced the sugarplums in his pocket and rose to his feet, planting his hands on the surface of the desk and leaning in. Ben slouched, meeting the challenge in Alex’s gaze without wavering.
“I know the truth, Ben,” Alex began. “I know you’re one of the Gentleman Courtesans. I also suspect you’re the ringleader of the entire operation. I must assume Aubrey was a courtesan as well. I couldn’t puzzle it out at first—how he could afford such extensive renovation and expansion of his shop. And he’s a fine catch for any woman, but a former countess as a wife? Something didn’t add up until I realized both of you are wealthier now than you’ve ever been.”
He wouldn’t reveal that he’d eavesdropped on Ben’s conversation with that Martin fellow. There was no time to argue over semantics.
Ben showed no outward reaction to Alex’s accusation. Folding his hands over his abdomen, he pursed his lips. “I’m still waiting for you to tell me about this deal you wish to make.”
“Name your price. I want you for one month, exclusively, and am willing to pay whatever you demand.”
For several seconds, Ben didn’t speak. However, Alex watched him too closely to miss the flick of his gaze toward the figures he’d been adding. From here, Alex could only see numbers, the amount of commas and zeroes leading him to believe Ben was adding sums of money. It looked like an astronomical figure, and apparently, he wasn’t finished tallying. Based off the open ledger, Alex assumed he was searching his assets for a certain amount of money. But, for what reason? If it was something important and Ben needed funds, then Alex had the upper hand. His inheritance had left him with more money than he could spend in four lifetimes, and a number of his own assets to draw on if need be.
“I need to ensure I understand what you’re saying,” Ben replied, slow and succinct. “You have abandoned your quest to resume our previous relationship and now wish to purchase me to warm your bed? And just what brought on this sudden change of heart?”
It was excruciating to remain placid and feign nonchalance, when what Alex wanted was to insist that nothing had changed and he still loved Ben beyond all reason. But appealing to Ben’s emotions wasn’t working. A more mercenary approach was necessary until Ben had softened toward him. Once that happened, Alex would do everything in his power to prove his love, and just how unwilling he was to live without Ben.
Alex shrugged as he stood upright, slowly making his way around the side of the desk. He rested his hip on its edge, now close enough to notice the dark smudges beneath Ben’s eyes—proof that he hadn’t slept last night. A quick peek at the numbers on the paper, and Alex’s theory was confirmed.
“I have decided to forgo the impossible in favor of what I can have. As you may know, it has been some time since … well, there hasn’t been another man since you. I miss that. I haven’t forgotten how good we were together, and I know you haven’t either. If money is what you need, I have plenty. I feel no shame in paying for what I need.”
“You mean to say there were no other men because you had a wife,” Ben retorted. “I hardly believe you have lived as a monk all this time.”
Alex offered a rueful smile, though his stomach twisted at the reminder that there was still so much to tell Ben, so many secrets to reveal. Some of them would make matters worse between them, but only if Alex wasn’t careful with his timing. First, he needed Ben near and unable to ignore him. Proximity would eventually force a reckoning between them, and all would be laid bare.
“You would be surprised to know the truth,” Alex hedged. “Katherine and I did not share a relationship that included physical passions. We were friends.”
“I couldn’t care less about what you had with Katherine. I am far more interested in your reasons for trying to manipulate me into letting you back into my life. Whatever your game is, I’m not interested in playing.”
Alex pushed off from the desk and moved closer, grasping the arms of Ben’s chair and wrenching it to face him. Ben’s shoes scraped the floor, his eyes widening at the reminder that Alex was no weakling. Ben was heavier than before, but Alex’s country lifestyle had given him idle hours to fill with physical activity. He was in the best shape of his life.
Hands still braced on the chair, Alex dipped his head and allowed his lips to skim along Ben’s hairline, making his way toward his ear.
“Your body in my bed, naked and willing … that’s all I require. It is all there has to be between us. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say you no longer want me? I’m certain you could have your pick of men—have had many while I was away—but I wonder if any of them know what you really like. Do they know how sensitive you are, just here?”
Ben shuddered when Alex found the hollow behind his ear and stroked it with his tongue. The reaction emboldened Alex to push him further.
He skimmed his lips down Ben’s neck, nuzzling into the opening of his shirt. Wiry hairs tickled his lips and nose, and the sharp scent of Bay Rum and linen starch permeated his senses.
“Do your past paramours know what makes your eyes roll back into your head?”
Alex placed a hand on Ben’s chest, allowing his fingertips to trace down the simple cloth-covered buttons of his waistcoat one by one. He made his slow way downward, toying with one of the silver fastenings of his breeches before skimming the prominent bulge showing against his fall.
“Do they know all the ways you like to be touched and kissed … fucked?”
Ben’s breathing grew harsher by the second, his legs parting as Alex teased along the length of his swollen cock. He was rock-hard and pulsing eagerly against Alex’s fingers, tension thrumming through him in a palpable current.
“My keepers don’t fuck me,” Ben murmured, pulsing his hips to urge his cock against Alex’s palm. “If they want to fuck someone, they can go home to their wives. They pay me to fuck them.”
Alex groaned, satisfaction flooding him at the revelation that Ben hadn’t given others what had been entrusted to him. It had to mean something, even if Ben would insist it didn’t.
“I’d pay you to fuck me,” Alex whispered, rubbing his palm against Ben’s prick, enthralled by the heat and solidity of him. “Whatever you want … you can have it. All you have to do is say yes.”
Ben’s resistance was gone, the lust that surged between them overtaking any argument he might have offered. Alex kissed his way along Ben’s neck and jaw, a rough hand falling over his to apply greater pressure against the turgid organ begging to be pleasured. Alex’s own cock wept with need, and he wrapped his free hand around it, stroking and pulling as Ben guided his other hand. Fingers intertwined, they worked Ben’s cock through his breeches, the sound of their harsh breaths mingling together in the eerie silence of the room.
Alex angled his lips toward Ben’s, craving more, needing to experience him in every way possible. It had been too long, and he was desperate to recapture some of what he’d thrown away.
Ben jerked his head away before their mouths could meet, his heavy hand clasping the back of Alex’s neck. His eyes burned like the blue flickers inside a raging fire, and his chest heaved with every breath. A cruel yet alluring smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as he tightened his grip, urging Alex to his knees.
“If I say yes, there are rules that must be followed. First and foremost, you might be paying me, but i
t will be with the understanding that I’m the one in charge. I set the terms, and any deviation from them will result in the termination of our contract.”
Alex braced his hands on the arms of the chair, his rapt gaze snared by the slow motions of Ben’s fingers over the buttons of his fall. They slipped through their holes one by one, with teasing precision.
“Agreed,” he rasped, lips parting at the first glimpse of Ben’s cock through the white linen of his shirt. A circle of wetness caused by preliminary surges of his seed left the fabric like a veil over the broad head.
“You might want to ask me how much such an arrangement is going to cost before you agree.”
Ben pulled at his shirttails, allowing his cock to bob free. It stood high and proud, curving toward his navel. Alex sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of such magnificence. He was impossibly thick, his base surrounded by a thatch of curling golden hairs, his bollocks drawn up tight. A bead of moisture glistened at his slit, and Alex licked his lips as the urge to lap it away came over him. He leaned in to do just that, but Ben stayed him with nothing more than a stern look. Alex shivered at the promise in that look, remembering very well what it was like to concede to Ben’s dominance. It was no surprise that he liked to be in control; that fact guided his very existence. Alex was more than happy to oblige him.
“How much?”
Ben gripped his cock with a grin and gave it a slow stroke, using his thumb to smear his head in his own seed. “Twenty-five thousand pounds. I want ten upfront.”
Alex’s fingers tightened around the arms of the chair, desperation clawing in his gut. “Yes. I’ll pay it. I would have paid more.”
“Twenty-five will do,” Ben replied, slowly and steadily pumping his cock, his expression smug in the face of Alex’s hungry gaze.
“Before I agree, I have conditions of my own.”
A flash of wariness lit in Ben’s eyes before he masked the reaction. “You are in no position to make demands.”
Chasing Benedict (The Gentleman Courtesans Book 5) Page 10
