Edward sat beside him and opened the sack, pulling out a large piece of muslin which he laid across the sand. Out came the bread, ham, and fruits, and the promised bottle of rum, along with a batch of sticky biscuits which Edward said were one of Lelia’s specialities.
“I don’t think I would ever tire of it here,” Edward said with a quiet sigh.
“Do you not miss England at all?”
“During the hurricane season there are moments when trees are uprooted and masts are smashed that I think to myself this would never happen in Sussex, but even then it is a momentary fancy. Like anything else, if I had to adapt I would, but London society was a place for vipers and miscreants—I hated it then, and I doubt it will have changed.”
“I was never one for it myself. Over the years my father has tried to push me into attending many dances, some I have had no choice in the matter, but I have hated each and every one with a passion. I’ve lost count of the women I have been introduced to who would make me a suitable wife.”
Edward chewed thoughtfully on a hunk of bread before speaking. “I admit I was surprised to hear Captain Horton was unmarried. I thought your father would have pushed for a good match.”
“Oh, he has tried several times, but me being at sea so often had been an inconvenience to his plans. Henry had it far worse, but as older brother and next baron he was always the priority.”
“Marriage is not about love when you are a member of the peerage, it is about allegiances and power,” said Edward with a sneer. “You could have married someone and lived at opposite ends of country and no one would have thought it strange.”
“Perhaps so, but I at least would wish to try and be a good husband if I were to marry—but alas I have not the disposition to make even the most patient woman happy.”
Edward laughed. “Don’t think I will be cowed by your disposition… I have already seen you soften a little in a few days. I imagine you would be a different man after a few weeks. Well, not different, but more as you were.”
“I fear you will be disappointed if you expect to me to revert back to the boy that I was. In the same way life at sea has changed you, it has changed me. You cannot have the blood of men on your hands and not be affected by it all. I have been in sea battles, raids, and skirmishes—none of them pass without leaving a mark. I have seen good and bad men die, come close myself at least once, and every event has in some way made me who I am today.”
Edward placed a hand on his thigh. “I understand that. And I do not challenge it. We are all the reflections of a well-lived past. I want to know the Daniel of today, not then, but you will not persuade me that the fundamentals that were deep in your core aren’t still there.”
“I am still stubborn and argumentative, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good to know. Do you still have a desire to stack coins by size order?”
Daniel laughed, remembering the times Edward had teased him over it. “There are some habits that I will never break. That and ensuring my books are always in alphabetical order by author. You were always an unruly sod—used to mess up my system just to get a rise.”
“I have always loved getting a rise out of you.” Edward leaned closer and raised an eyebrow.
Daniel shoved him backwards, laughing as Edward toppled over. They’d shared an easy camaraderie when they were younger, and despite the years it was still there. Over the last couple of days, he’d enjoyed spending time with Edward, and as the afternoon stretched out in front of them, Daniel came to the conclusion that he’d happily spend more time with him. Edward might have matured in some ways, but the young man he’d loved was still there, buried under the mantle of Captain Merric. They had much to work out, but for now, sitting on a golden beach staring out across the bluest sea, it was as if they were the only two souls in the world. Daniel didn’t want the day to end.
Chapter Thirteen
Somehow, Edward had once again persuaded him into bed. Daniel panted desperately as Edward’s fingers worked him open. Daniel was close to begging, but he wouldn’t give Edward the satisfaction. Then the fingers were gone, and Edward rolled over and lay on his back, naked and his cock standing proud. Daniel would never tire of seeing Edward naked, like a masterpiece on display only for him.
Edward grinned and stroked his cock “You’ll be glad to know that some things never change, and I love to be ridden.”
Daniel hadn’t been able to shake the sense of inadequacy when he compared his own skills to Edward’s. A flash of memories of a dark night in Portsmouth when he’d made a complete fool of himself didn’t help matters. “The last time we tried that, I fell out of bed.”
“But that was terribly narrow bunk. Much more room here.” Edward patted the mattress. “A lot of time has passed since then, time to get back on the horse—or the Edward.”
Edward had a point. Daniel wasn’t completely convinced, but the sight of Edward waiting for him was enough to drown out the negative voices. And the balmy weather and heady aromas of the Caribbean were a long way from the dank shores of England.
He threw his leg over Edward’s hips to straddle him. “I should have known you’d still prefer for someone else to do all the work.”
He shuffled into position, feeling Edward’s cock press into his buttocks. For a moment he wasn’t sure what his best course of action would be, but Edward came to his rescue, taking hold of his cock and guiding it to Daniel’s hole. “No need to rush, just ease yourself down, as slow as you like.”
Daniel carefully sat back, taking Edward inside, enjoying the fullness as he stopped flush against Edward. The different angle made for a deeper experience, and he had to pause a moment to adapt. Edward gently stroked his thighs, his skin tingling at the contact.
“You are a true beauty, Daniel. I could watch you do this for hours.”
“I would not survive hours,” he gasped as Edward bucked up his hips.
“Truth be told, neither would I.”
Daniel started to lift himself up but wobbled slightly. Edward steadied him, using his hands to guide Daniel to do what he wanted. Slowly Daniel began to build up the pace—he knew the rhythm wasn’t perfect, the brush of Edward inside too distracting. He could hardly concentrate, the maddening waves of bliss left his brain fogged and centred on his own building release. Edward’s hands tightened on his hips, Daniel letting Edward guide him, speeding up and riding Edward faster and faster. He gasped, crying out in pleasure as he came, Edward underneath him, bucking upwards, making sure he had the release he craved. Edward came with a hoarse shout, and Daniel slumped forwards, Edward slipping out of him.
Daniel’s breathing took a while to even out, and his mind took even longer to return to a state where he could think clearly. Once again, Edward had needed to take charge. Not that Daniel minded, but he couldn’t help but feel a little inadequate. He knew he was out of practise, knew that Edward was so much more experienced, and he shouldn’t let that concern him, but he couldn’t stop the doubts from circulating.
Edward pushed him back so he could cradle his jaw. Daniel relished the soft kiss before sliding off to settle next to Edward. He let Edward pull him close and enjoyed his strong arms around him and the way his fingers stroked his stomach. Daniel wasn’t used to feeling so insecure. As a captain he was expected to take command, to know what he was doing, and even though what had happened with Neechals had dented his self-belief somewhat, it was nothing compared to what he felt lying next to Edward. Edward, who had always been more experienced, had found pleasure with people much better in bed than he was.
“You seem pensive.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You should not brood over whatever it is that is bothering you. I have very capable ears—good for listening.” Edward squeezed him. “I can even keep my mouth shut at the same time.”
Daniel had spent the last fifteen years denying that he had enough feelings to be bothered by them, but Edward had caused him to rethink. “I am doubting my abilities. When I am wi
th you it is like I am eighteen again, just like then I have but a shadow of your ability.”
“Oh, Daniel, I don’t mind that you are not as experienced. We can solve that with more practise.” Edward huffed with amusement, but it wasn’t the dismissal Daniel had wanted to hear.
Daniel turned around to face him. “What if this as good as I get? Will you bore of me?”
Edward scowled. “Daniel, you’re talking nonsense. I can no sooner bore of you than I could of life.”
“You have had more interesting encounters. Even when we were younger you’d had many lovers before we’d met. I was naïve and underwhelming, too timid to let you have what you wanted.”
“No, no. You have this wrong. I desired you from the moment I saw you. But you weren’t like the others who I wanted briefly before moving on. You were captivating, and I knew if I pushed you too quickly that you would bolt. I thought at first you would be easy to convince, I could bed you and move on as I usually did, but I got to know you, fell in love with you. During our first time I thought you would consume me completely. I was never going to be able to walk away from that.”
He’d known Edward’s reputation. At first, Daniel had suspected Edward had wanted to bed him and nothing else. But they had grown close; no one had meant more to him. Yet the words didn’t reflect what had happened. Less than a year and half later, he would think Edward dead when instead Edward had thought Daniel capable of spurning him. “But you thought I could.”
Edward moved away, and Daniel thought he should have kept his mouth shut, that he was only picking at wounds that should be left to heal. He expected Edward to get out of bed, but instead he was searching for something in a box that sat on the table by the bed.
“There is too much bad blood here to ignore,” Edward said, sitting up against the headboard holding piece of paper. “I understand why you are angry, and if we are to have a true chance of happiness we need to face this.”
Daniel sat up. “We were so devoted. Or at least I thought we were.”
Edward held out the paper. “This is the letter I received that I thought was from you.”
Daniel took it. He could see where at one point it had been crumped into a ball and then subsequently smoothed out. Parts were smudged, but it was still readable.
Edward,
News of your survival fills me with a joy I cannot quantify. A miracle has occurred, and the sea has not claimed you as we had all feared. Your message was sent to my rooms, but I was at my family home, and your father was kind enough to send it on.
I know that the words that follow are not what you will wish to hear, but they must be said. The months we have spent apart have given me time to think. We should take this forced separation as a sign that it is better for you to remain in the Caribbean, start the life you mean to have. The shame that we could bring down upon our families is not worth the infatuation we shared. You must see that we were foolish boys. But now we must be wise men.
Forget England. Forget me. I will not be swayed on my decision. You will come to the same conclusion if you think carefully upon this.
D.H.
The letter was short, the words damning and uncaring. There was none of the warmth he would’ve poured into a letter to Edward back then, and he could see why Edward would be so bitter if he believed them. Right there was the crux of the issue. Edward had chosen to believe a few scant lines over what they had shared.
“What did you do when you read this?”
Edward turned away and wouldn’t look at him. “A few days before I got this I had received a letter from my father. He said that it would be best if I stayed where I was as there had been some unpleasantness associated with my name and that of a friend. He didn’t say you specifically, but he intimated that it may affect this other person’s promising naval career. I knew he was referring to you, but I’d dismissed any concern I had because I was sure I would hear from you and you would join me in the Caribbean—promising naval career be damned. So when your letter arrived I was devastated. Blind rage took over, I wasn’t rational. I tore apart the rooms I was staying in and drowned myself in rum.
“When I sobered up I read the letter again. Angry and hurt, I couldn’t see past the words of you dismissing me, you weren’t coming. You didn’t love me, and I felt so betrayed.”
Edward still wouldn’t look at him, his long hair hiding his face. “Edward….”
“You asked what happened, and I’m telling you. The following month was a haze of liquor and willing bodies. I felt like I’d wasted all this time on you, that I owed you nothing. One of my crewmates stopped my descent—warning me that I would lose my place on Leer’s ship and make an enemy of a dangerous man. It was enough to calm my madness. I had survived before you, I would survive after you. I discovered the letter again—part of me wanted to burn it, but another part, the part that still loved you despite what happened, couldn’t throw it away, and I smoothed it out and kept it. It was the same day I started carrying the pocket watch again.
“I silenced the small voice that said I should have replied to you. Once I even wrote the letter but then I realised even if I were to try and win you back, I had done nothing to make you believe that I still cared deeply for you. It was easier to push those feelings for you down and build up a wall based on the words in the letter.”
Daniel wished Edward had tried, wished he’d not listened to his inner voice. He wanted to say something, but Edward wasn’t finished, and he didn’t want to interrupt.
“Several years later, I heard Captain Horton, a Royal Navy captain, was stationed in the Caribbean waters. I was curious to what had become of you, but the rumours told of a cold man, not the Daniel I knew. I paid for information, made sure I knew where you were and what you were doing, but I kept my distance. It was like picking a scab, never healing and tormenting myself, and at the same time trying to convince myself that your coldness was more proof of the motives behind the letter. You cannot imagine what a shock I had when you landed at my feet and told me you thought I was dead.”
Maybe not exactly, but Daniel had experienced his own enlightenment that day. “Was it like thinking the man you loved had faked his own death and had chosen a life without you?”
Edward’s head snapped up.
Daniel saw his haunted expression.
“Without the faking the own death part, that was how I had felt fifteen years ago. But when I saw that you really did not know I hadn’t died, it dawned on me that you had not sent the letter and I had been lied to and manipulated. I felt a fool. Guilty and angry at what I had allowed myself to lose.”
“You did not lose it, it was stolen from you. From us.”
Edward took his hand. “The last few days have been like a miracle. I believe we can have a future, but we will not be happy if you cannot find peace over this. I cannot spend my life being punished for something my stupid younger self did. I am truly sorry, but I cannot change it, no matter how much I wish I could.”
“You think I do not know that? I know it could not have been easy for you, but my mind is burning. I need some time to think.” Daniel turned away and rolled out of bed. “Please give me a few hours, I won’t go far. I promise I will be back.”
Edward nodded but didn’t speak. Daniel washed quickly, removing the stickiness of their exertions, and dressed. Edward was sitting on the edge of bed, his expression pensive. For a moment, Daniel wondered if he should stay, but that would not help now. He needed to calm his mind, be objective, but he could not do that with Edward next to him.
Daniel didn’t intend to go far, he just needed some solitude, and he knew Edward would respect that. He found himself in the gardens, not wanting to be inside, and he sat on a stone bench in a secluded corner. The garden was a quiet oasis. He closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings; the twittering of the birds and faraway sounds of people going about their business levied a calm upon him that he hadn’t experienced in years. Once the sea could have done that for him, but mor
e recently the pressure of command had meant there was seldom time to spend in contemplation. The heady smell of exotic flowers carried on the breeze, and he breathed deeply; rarely did he take the opportunity to enjoy the world around him. He tried to remember the last time he’d sat like this, probably back at Himmel Hall, his family home, several years before his mother had died.
He opened his eyes, returning his thoughts to the maelstrom of finding Edward alive. There had been moments over the last few days when he could’ve almost forgotten the years that had passed. But it wasn’t that simple. The truth was he was off balance, his mind stuck in a rut, time after time reminding him of Edward’s lack of faith. But now he had the other side of the story, and he needed to decide if it was enough. Edward was right that if they wanted a future they needed to move away from the ghosts of the past.
Edward’s home was beautiful, a haven sat on an island which was a little slice of paradise. Could he see himself living here? Or should he return to England and forget about the fairy tale? What was left for him in England? Potentially, he still had his naval career, but that was no longer guaranteed. His family—father, stepmother, and brother—were there, but he was away at sea for so long he barely saw them, and although he had a fondness for them, it was nothing like intensity of the feelings he harboured for Edward.
Then there was Edward. He’d always had a way of making someone feel as if they were the most important person in a room. When Daniel was in his arms it was like nothing on Earth. They had both been young men, little more than boys when Edward had supposedly been lost at sea and reacted badly to the letter sent from home. Being impetuous was almost the definition of youth. But they were no longer young, couldn’t hide behind that excuse anymore.
He couldn’t change what had happened, but it was in his power to forgive. If he could do that then a new life would await him here.
Movement from someone leaving the house caught his eye. Edward lingered by the door as if he shouldn’t come closer. Even after all these years, there was one singular truth—he still loved Edward. No matter how much it had hurt finding out Edward had believed he had abandoned him, Daniel couldn’t shake that he cared more about Edward than any other soul, living or dead.
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