Master of Pleasure

by Delilah Marvelle

  Not in the least bit amused, Malcolm came to a halt before him. “You and I have to talk.”

  Nasser spread out both hands. “At long last. He wishes to have a conversation. I gather there is a perfectly viable reason as to why you never once wrote to me whilst I was all those months in New York. I am rather…how do you English say…miffed with you. You have no respect for my love.”

  “On the contrary.” Malcolm stared him down. “I took a year leave from my position to help you with this mess. And if I may say, this is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had. Your association with Miss Grey is unholy.”

  “Pfah. You think everything is unholy.”

  Malcolm glared. “You sent me into London because you wanted me to look into Lord Banfield’s life and give you an opinion you can trust. And I’m giving it to you. Lord Banfield has been in love with Miss Grey for years. According to Holbrook, and a few other more than reliable sources, she never once resisted their engagement. In fact, she has been enthusiastically replying to all of Lord Banfield’s letters since she was fourteen, which means…she isn’t telling you the whole story. Either way, I don’t like it. Marriage is meant to be a sacred union of mutual respect. Not a means of hiding one’s identity from the world. You’re treating her like some monkey you plan to pet for the rest of your life. It’s wrong.”

  Nasser was quiet for a long moment. “She told me she was dreadfully unhappy with the arrangement.”

  “I have seen nothing to support that. She probably only wants access to your crown.”

  “No. She has become family. So I ask you treat her as such. Something else must be amiss.” Nasser squinted. “Forgive me for being shallow but is this Lord Banfield...unattractive? Do women scurry away from him? Does he have crooked teeth and bushy brows that wag like little fingers?”

  Malcolm refrained from tapping Nasser’s head. “No. Both brothers exude a little too much charm and could easily take advantage of women.”

  “Do they?”

  “No. Holbrook has a tendency to play and flirt far more than he should, but he doesn’t abuse or wheedle women. As for Banfield, setting aside what appears to be a single visit to a high-class brothel done in the name of education, he doesn’t associate with women at all. He keeps busy with the estate and is completely and utterly devoted to Miss Grey.”

  Nasser blinked rapidly. “Why would my azizam try to escape a man who is devoted to her? That makes no sense. There must be something wrong with him. Is he the violent sort?”

  “Far from it. The man hasn’t gotten into a single scuffle since he left Eton. There isn’t a person who has ever spoken ill of him. Not even his own servants. I have no idea what is going on, but given his affection for the girl, expect him to follow you into Persia.”

  Nasser swiped his face. “I did not realize this Lord Banfield was so attached.”

  “The man is more than attached. He sleeps with her portrait. And who knows what that means.”

  “Ya weld elgahba. If that is true, I am not touching this. My life is complicated enough. I went to New York for a reason. To see new things and escape my overbearing parents and the mess they are making of not only their lives but mine.” Nasser pointed at him. “When Miss Grey arrives into town, which should be in the next week, I will talk to her and put an end to it.”

  “What about your father?”

  “What about him?”

  “Didn’t you already tell him you were getting married to this girl?”

  Nasser sighed. “Yes, but when he discovered she was an American, he threw a fit. He will be more than pleased by the termination, I assure you. I suggest moving out of Holbrook’s house. The sooner we distance ourselves from whatever happens next, the better off we are. Would you like a hotel or would you prefer to stay here with me until we leave for Persia?”

  Malcolm paused. Leona needed him. As did Holbrook. “I can’t leave the house quite yet.”

  “Why not?”

  If only he was more like his brother and didn’t give a damn. “Holbrook had an argument with Banfield back in February about some girl who put him in debt. And I mean a lot of debt. He had to sell his townhouse and move into a place even rats consider beneath them. I’ve been more or less keeping him out of debt. Not that he knows it.”

  “Dalir, Dalir. Always a hero to everyone but himself.”

  Unfortunately. “Laugh. Because it doesn’t end there. I also elbowed my way into another situation. I hired this…this…female to tend to whatever is left of Holbrook’s house because the one servant Holbrook does have is useless and only ever sells lithographs from the back door. I intend to stay with Holbrook until it’s time to leave London and was hoping you could actually help me with something.”

  Nasser lifted a brow. “I knew it was coming.”

  Malcolm retrieved Ryder’s calling card from his pocket and held it out. “This is about the woman I hired. Her aunt swindled her out of a lot of money, and now this moron, Mr. Blake, is threatening to take her child away based on grounds of financial neglect. And believe me when I say, this boy is anything but neglected. I need you to get your grandfather involved. With him being one of the presiding judges overseeing cases at the Exchequer of Pleas, this should be easy. Just have him send someone of power over to Mr. Blake so his bollocks invert. Whatever your grandfather wants in return for his assistance, make sure he gets it.”

  Nasser sighed and took the card. He glanced at it, before tucking it away into his waistcoat pocket. “Your generosity is going to bankrupt me.”

  Malcolm stared him down. “It shouldn’t cost you anything but a few words to a man you and I both know has England’s right and left ear. But if it does cost you anything, take it out of my naval annuity. I don’t mind.”

  “Keep your silver, Dalir. Everything will be fine. Grand-pére will ensure no lawyer goes near Mr. Blake. Now come here. We have not seen each other in a hundred and seventy-two days. I counted.” Nasser grabbed the sides of Malcolm’s face and grinned. “You look well for yourself.” He kissed Malcolm’s forehead twice. “Was life incredibly difficult without me? It was, was it not?”

  Malcolm lifted his gaze to the ceiling in a valiant attempt to accept what he went through every time they spent time apart. “Oh, yes. I often wonder how I survive without your kisses.”

  Nasser released him and gave him a pointed look. “You are usually far friendlier than this. What is it? Are you still angry with me?”

  “A little,” Malcolm grouched. “I wasn’t ready to come to London. Why did you have to send me out? My life was what it needed to be. Coming back was…I’ve helped so many damn people in my life except for the one person who needed it most.”

  Nasser hesitated. “Is this about your father’s death?”

  Malcolm’s throat tightened. Mourning for the loss of his father, which had happened well over three years ago while he was at sea, had actually been surprisingly easy. Whilst his poor father had always been a good Christian man, they had never been close. He’d gotten more attention from governesses growing up than his father. And that wasn’t saying much.

  Malcolm was actually coming to terms with a much greater loss. Knowing his brother was irredeemable. “No. I’m at peace with my father’s passing. Well before his death, I wrote to him and disclosed the truth about what really happened and why I never returned. I have no doubt he shared the letter with my brother.”

  Nasser’s voice softened. “What about your brother? Did you see him? Did you try to?”

  Malcolm flexed both hands in an effort to remain calm. “I didn’t really want to, given he tried to stab me through the heart, but after thirteen years of silence, I…” He hissed out a breath and raked both hands through his hair before letting them drop. “I convinced myself to covertly peer in on him a few days ago. His life is exactly how I had left it. In shambles. In fact, he and Miss Silverthorn are associating again.”

  Nasser’s eyes widened. “Khak too saret. Tell me they are not.”

  Ma
lcolm tried not to be angry about it. He knew what it was like to fight the demon within. But after all he did to try to protect them from each other, this was his recompense: their reunion. “I made the other half of my own soul think the worst of me because I was convinced I was saving them both from darker things to come. So what does this female bala go and do in honor of my sacrifice? She abandons her monastic vows as a nun up in Scotland and prances back into London to work as a birch mistress. A birch mistress. Because apparently, nuns know even more about crucifixion than Jesus. And conveniently…James now frequents her establishment.

  “At first, I decided I wasn’t going to bother. Why would I? It isn’t any of my business what the hell these two are doing to each other. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt I had a right to know how demented it really was. So I paid this mousy-looking scullery maid there at the brothel to tell me more and do you know what she told me? Do you? They don’t kiss or have sex. They never do. All they do is drink brandy and dare each other to do odious things like taking turns pulling the trigger of a pistol while aimed at each other. Does that sound normal to you?”

  Nasser gaped. “Are you certain that is what is going on?”

  Malcolm sniffed hard. “Yes. I actually followed James one night when he carried in two pistols. One for her and one for him. Shortly after he left the brothel, I ploughed my way in to see Miss Silverthorn, but she refused to answer any of my questions. She simply sat there with her crop and told me unless I wanted to pay for a session, it was time for me to leave. My brother is a damn profligate looking to die. I warned him. I warned him to stay away from what they were doing to each other lest one of them end up dead. Those two are crossing lines.”

  Nasser averted his gaze. “Maybe your brother has learned to control it.”

  “That would be like saying the devil loves Jesus. Not true.” A ragged breath escaped Malcolm. “It doesn’t matter. I’m done. Seeing I announced myself to Miss Silverthorn and still haven’t heard anything from my brother, it’s fairly obvious he isn’t interested in re-connecting. Which I’m fine with.”

  “Are you?”

  No. But he also didn’t want to find out what would happen if he and his brother ended up in the same room after thirteen years. They were too much alike. “It doesn’t matter. He and I are better off not associating. We have only ever encouraged each other.” He sighed, wanting to change the subject. “I thought you should know your father requested I arrive at the palace before September. He has ‘questions’ about your involvement with a certain ropemaker. Please tell me nothing happened between you and Rami. Please tell me your father is overreacting to whatever rumors he heard.”

  Nasser winced and edged back. “I drank too much.”

  “Which means…?”

  Nasser whined. “I have created a mess. Rami and I…mounted each other. Even eight months later, I swear I am still having trouble walking. And the worst of it? He has been nagging me to return to Persia and do it again. Even though I am not in the least bit interested. Rami is an empty-headed boar. There is nothing remotely interesting about him other than his cock.”

  Malcolm lowered his chin. “Your lack of self-respect is going to cost you. Because your little ropemaker ended up bragging about your ‘night’ to one of the gunners and the gunner couldn’t help but tell the purser who then told the whole ship. A ship that is under your father’s jurisdiction. Not yours or mine. What the hell do you expect me to say or do now? Lie for you?”

  “Yes. Lie for me. Bribe Rami with a few thousand, tell my father it was a misunderstanding and we are done.”

  Malcolm slowly shook his head. “No. I once lied for my brother and it cost me everything but changed nothing. I’ll not do it again. You have to face this and tell your father. For pity’s sake, when no child comes of whatever union you decide on, people will accuse you of making the throne vulnerable to invasion. Beloochistan has fifteen thousand men waiting to seize Persia.”

  “Beloochistan is hardly a threat. Those morons are still trying to figure out how to fire a cannon without blowing themselves up. It is the Russians who worry me. After taking Poland off the map, they recently started using their armies to take over other regions. As if their damn country is not already beyond the size it needs to be.” Nasser was quiet for a moment. “If things progress, we will have no choice but to send you and the entire fleet to defend the Caspian Sea. Because if the Russians seize the Caspian, they seize us. Persia will no longer exist.”

  Motherless bastard. The Russians had a navy eighteen times the size of Persia. “The Russians would sink us and you know it.” Malcolm let out a ragged breath. “They’ve negotiated various treaties with your father before and have kept a civilized distance. Why isn’t your father negotiating with them now? Why insist on war?”

  “Because my mother had an affair with a Russian officer shortly before I left for New York and now my father is trying to kill them all.” Turning away, Nasser muttered something, strode over to an ornate side table arrayed with crystal decanters and poured two glasses of burnt wine. “I prefer not to talk about my parents. They are destroying far, far more than each other.”

  He glanced back at Malcolm. “Distract me with new conversation. What have you been doing with your time outside of the assignment? Did you go to the theatre?”

  “No.”

  “The opera?”

  “No.”

  “A coffee house?”

  “No.”

  With a look of exasperation, Nasser eyed him. “What did you do?”

  Malcolm shrugged. “Aside from going to church every Sunday, I kept Holbrook out of trouble, visited with Trent on a few occasions and walked around London.”

  “For two whole months?”

  “My entertainment needs, as you know, are very simple.” He smirked. “By the by, Trent wants an introduction. He rather fancies the idea of meeting a prince. Shall I arrange it? He might be a willing play mate.”

  Nasser gave him a withering look. “Oh, yes, put the two sodomites together. After all, we sodomites are so desperate for cock we will take whatever walks through the door.” He glared. “No. I do not want to meet him. What are you proposing, Dalir? That I get involved with your own cousin? After you scold me for getting involved with the ropemaker?”

  “The ropemaker had the intelligence of a turkey. Why not involve yourself with someone capable of more insight and sophistication?”

  “Turkeys are far easier to lead, I assure you.” Nasser rounded him and stared him down, his voice growing husky. “By the by, I, too, received a correspondence from my father. It concerns your duty as admiral.”

  Not good. “What do you mean? I relegated every flag and ship to the vice-admiral in order to take temporary leave. How else was I supposed to address the assignment you so rudely tossed at me? Are you telling me there is a problem?”

  “Not in the way you think.” Nasser angled closer. “My father delineated what was expected of you when he made you admiral. It involves nikāh. You had a birthday recently, did you not?”

  Malcolm’s eyes widened. “Codswallop. I’m not actually going to be forced into upholding nikāh, am I? I’m not Muslim.”

  A breath escaped Nasser. “If you plan to retain your position as admiral and continue living amongst my people, be you Muslim or not, you are expected to uphold our ways. Celibate life is against the teachings of the Qur’an. Every man in our kingdom is required to live in a married state and must be married by the age of thirty. As of fourteen days ago, you are one and thirty and therefore breaking Persian law. Which is why, setting aside my involvement with the ropemaker, my father insists you to return to the palace by September. The festival of Eid-e qorban is when everyone in the royal family weds. And you are very much a part of this family. You may not remember, but…you did agree to marry one of my sisters.”

  Malcolm swiped his face, feeling the blood pounding against his temples. He knew he shouldn’t have drank so much burnt wine that night
. He couldn’t even remember half the conversation he had with the Shah. All he knew was that he ended up admiral and all four of Nasser’s sisters started competing for his attention like female squirrels rifling through a barrel of nuts. “From what I remember, I was trying to be nice.”

  “You? Nice?”

  “Yes. He was worried that none of them would ever be married. He was practically sobbing about it, saying they were too much like the queen. I felt sorry for him and told him if after five years no one wanted them, I would take one off his hands. I was drunk and didn’t think he’d actually take me seriously. As you well know your sisters are overly needy. They only want to fill the palace with furniture, poodles and babies. None of which I need.”

  Nasser stared. “You better have someone in mind, then. Because my father wrote to say that he already redecorated the Harshini quarters for you and your future bride. He expects you to live at the palace in between assignments. You do know that, yes?”

  Shit. Setting aside that he didn’t want to get married, living at the palace was no different than living inside a zoo with animals who thought they were people. “Tell your father I’m not ready for either.”

  “You had better be. My father ordered an additional eight men into London specifically sent to ensure you board your ship in eight weeks. You will be detained and arrested if you do not follow orders.”

  Malcolm choked. “Detained and arrested? For what?”

  “For not upholding the law of nikāh. You are an asset, Dalir. Since you became admiral, we have regained a stronghold on the Caspian Sea, which the Russians seek to dominate. Even if you are bold enough to relinquish your position and leave Persia, I assure you my father will not permit it for the safety of our country. He made it very clear that you either marry and uphold the law or you will be escorted straight to prison for your lack of subordination. Neither of which I can protect you from, because I am not king. He is.”

  God blind him. These Muslims were crazy. How did he ever get so attached to them and their way of life? “I don’t even have time for women. You know my schedule. I only touch land long enough to remember my name before I go back out. What am I supposed to do? Marry and leave my wife the same night?”