by Megan Derr
Terrell just stared at him. "What—what do you mean?"
"Edlin came by our apartments, frantic—hell, terrified. Miserable. He has been looking for you ever since you saw him at the theatre and honestly, Terrell, if you were going to do something that bloody stupid, you might have taken me along!"
"So you could have had us both arrested?" Terrell suggested, mouth quirking in amusement. "I did it on impulse; there wasn't time to go fetch you—and anyway, we've…well, I am sorry I said I did not approve of Thiering. It is quite clear that you two get on very well."
Kirian's mouth twisted, but he said nothing. This wasn't about him—it was about fixing what had gone wrong with Terrell and Edlin.
"Kir, what's wrong?"
"It doesn't matter—"
"Like hell it doesn't!" Terrell interrupted. "I'm not going to run off to speak with Edlin when it's clear you've tumbled into your own mess. You two were so happy when I last saw you, that's what—" He broke off and shook his head. "What's wrong?"
"I ran into his father, earlier," Kirian said reluctantly, slumping over the table at which they sat. "Apparently he never spoke with his father at all—never intended to, just meant for the marriage to go through." His mouth twisted. "Because apparently he somehow figured out I was Frederick Cloud and did not want his father to pay me off or otherwise drive me away, because then he would lose contact with the 'person he most admired' and that person is Frederick Cloud." He tried to smile, but knew it fell woefully flat. "So if it's all right with you, old boy, I'll just take your moping corner while you run off to set all to rights with your fiancé. I am sorry we were so wrong—you may take a swing at me—"
"Oh, shut up," Terrell said. "I—so that actor is not his lover? Truly?"
"Truly," Kirian confirmed. "I would explain, but I know very little and really, Edlin is right—it is between the two of you and he should be the one to explain. Go find him, before the poor bugger dies of apoplexy trying to find you. I said we would meet back at my apartment in two hours and it is nearly that."
Terrell did not move, though. "I think you're wrong about Thiering—Evelyn. He might be quite fond of Frederick Cloud's work, but he would not lie to or about his father just to be closer to a favorite poet, Kir. Are you absolutely certain it is not you he loves? Just you? Or did you storm off in a panic because you were so convinced that could not be the case?"
Kirian made a face. "I may have stormed off—but you did not hear what he said! And I know all that rot about me being Frederick Cloud and how it hardly matters, but it does matter. I wish I had never created bloody Frederick Cloud."
"You could just admit who you are and have done with the problem once and for all," Terrell suggested. "You are married to a Duke's son—"
"I punched his father," Kirian said, suddenly reminded, and groaned as he let his head fall to thump against the table. "Oh, bloody hell, I punched the Duke of Pennington."
Terrell laughed. "We are doing splendidly tonight, aren't we? I have made a complete cake of myself, running halfway across the city and hiding in an empty library to escape my poor fiancé, who would at this point would be perfectly within his rights to break the engagement. You are so busy hating yourself and trying to get yourself arrested that you cannot see your husband is madly in love with you. I may be practical to a fault—"
"You're not, Terri," Kirian interrupted, feeling awful all over again. "If I had listened to you—well, we might both be somewhere else rather than sitting in a library feeling sorry for ourselves."
"Yes, well—if I had been more like you and simply confronted him from the start, instead of spending my day running and hiding, we might also be somewhere else. We muddle along as ourselves quite well, most days, and when we don't—that is what the other is for, hm? You are my best friend, Kir. Whatever happens, that will never change." He smiled faintly. "It would be wholly impractical to attempt to find a new best friend now. I am far too busy planning a wedding, I hope, for such distracting nonsense."
Kirian laughed and hugged him tightly. "I will be home for your wedding, make no mistake about that. Literary Tour be damned; I want to see you marry your charming idiot."
Terrell snorted in amusement. "Come on, then. I had best go find Edlin and make my apologies, and you must find Evelyn and make your apologies."
"Yes," Kirian agreed.
"How the devil did you get in here, anyway?" Terrell asked as they left their corner and headed for the entrance, moving slowly as the flickering lamp was their only real source of light.
Kirian grinned. "Open window."
Terrell rolled his eyes, but laughed. He extinguished the lamp as they reached the main doors, setting it aside on a shelf with others, and then he unlocked the door. They slipped outside, pausing only to allow Terrell to lock the door, before he led the way down the walk, across campus, and into town. They reached Kirian's apartment a few minutes later and saw a familiar-looking form walking toward them. Beside him, Terrell drew a sharp breath and froze. Kirian gave him a none too gentle shove as Edlin drew closer, and smiled faintly as Edlin just swore in relief and yanked Terrell into his arms, holding him tightly.
Leaving them to it, Kirian went upstairs to make his own apologies, hoping his temper had not ruined the best thing to ever happen to him. Opening the door, disliking the way all the lights had been snuffed, he called out, "Evie?"
"My son is not here," Lord Robert said as Kirian entered the sitting room. "Oddly enough, he came to see me—and in quite the temper," he added dryly. "That is the most temper my son has shown in years, ever since I sent his little tart packing with a modest sum of money."
"If you try to offer me money again—"
Lord Robert held up his hand, halting Kirian's tirade. "I will not offer you money again. Although my son thinks I am out to ruin his life, my goal is quite the opposite. I would like to see him happy. Not a one of his brothers listened to me when I tried to advise them against their marriages and they are all now quite miserable. I was determined that Evelyn would not share their fate." He looked Kirian up and down again—but this time there was respect in it. He no longer looked at Kirian as though he was trash, but rather as someone worth his time. "I cannot recall the last time someone punched me and certainly no one has ever so vehemently defended Evelyn. I am willing to let you repair whatever is wrong between the two of you, if only because I hold some measure of the blame."
"No—the fault is mine. I overreacted," Kirian said, even as he wondered if he had fallen asleep. "You are being awfully civilized, Your Grace, for a man who treated me as little better than a whore only two hours ago."
Laughing, Lord Robert stood up. "As I said, you sent my son to me in quite the temper. He never comes home and he never loses his temper. You punched me in defense of him. I know a good marriage when I see one. Now come along home before he takes it into his fool head to go gallivanting off to cause trouble elsewhere. I will not have this nonsense dragging on indefinitely when I have instructed my wife that there is to be a proper reception for the two of you before you leave on your Tour."
Kirian jerked, surprised. "A reception?"
"I will not have people continuing to gossip that we are against the marriage when I was not even informed of the bloody thing in the first place. Come along, come along, I've had enough of this nonsense. Youth—there must be turmoil or it isn't a day." He pulled on his coat, hat, and gloves, taking up his cane. Looking at Kirian, he gestured impatiently. "Let's go. I will not say it again."
Bemused, but unable to refuse a chance to make things right with Evelyn, Kirian obeyed. At the last moment, he fetched the satchel that contained all of Frederick Cloud's work, and then hastened after the Duke. Kirian once more stepped out into the night. That he was doing so in the company of the Duke of Pennington, after having punched him hard enough to have left his right eye bruised—well, it had been a strange night; what was a bit more strangeness?
Nine
Terrell did not want to let go, d
id not want to ever move from where he was pressed against Edlin's chest with Edlin's arms holding him, the scent of his familiar cologne wafting around them. A hand moved lightly up and down his spine, soothing and reassuring. Terrell nuzzled against him a moment longer before finally drawing back enough to look up and say, "I'm sorry."
Edlin did not reply, instead moving his hands up to cup Terrell's face and draw him in for a kiss. Terrell responded immediately, pushing up on his toes and not caring about anything for the moment but the taste and feel of Edlin. He sank his hands into Edlin's hair and held fast, terrified that this would be his last kiss and wanting to engrave it in his memory if it was.
"I'm glad you're all right," Edlin murmured. "You ran off in the worst possible direction—I've been frantic trying to find you—"
"I'm sorry," Terrell repeated. "I—I feel like a fool."
Edlin slid an arm around his shoulders and drew him close again, lips brushing against his brow. "We need to talk, but I will say now I am sorry as well. I never meant for you to find out about Pierre that way. I arrived a day early to set everything up for you to meet him properly."
Terrell just stared, confused. "Who—" He fell silent as Edlin slid a kiss across his mouth that made him shiver. "Edlin…"
"Let's go back to our rooms, hm? I am not going to hold this discussion on a street in the middle of the night." He stepped back and slid his arm away to take hold of Terrell's hand. They walked in silence through the streets, a few blocks down to Edlin's rooms.
Upstairs, Edlin unlocked the door and led him inside, and closed it quietly behind them before dealing with their outdoor wear.
"Edlin—" Terrell was cut off as Edlin abruptly grabbed him, shoved him into the door, and kissed him hard enough to split his lip. Terrell grunted, tried to jerk away—but Edlin was having none of it. He pinned Terrell to the wall and just kept kissing him, demanding a response, and Terrell was helpless to do anything but give it.
Edlin did not relent until Terrell was left dizzy and gasping for breath. He wasn't given much of a chance to recover, either, as Edlin pulled him from the wall and half-led, half-pushed Terrell down the hall to their bedroom, and shoved him down onto the bed.
"What—" Terrell was again cut off as his mouth was taken, hands shoving up under his clothes and dragging across his skin. Terrell bucked, twisted, writhed, feeding noises into Edlin's hard kisses and scrabbling for purchase. This—this was new. This he hadn't expected; he was surprised to realize he liked it. Grunting, he reached out to do some touching of his own—and jolted in surprise when Edlin grabbed both of his hands and pinned them to the bed, holding them there in one hand while his other went to Terrell's breeches. Terrell shouted in surprise as Edlin pulled his cock free and stroked him off hard and fast, swallowing his cry as he came with a ravenous kiss.
Terrell panted as Edlin let him go, kissing him more softly. "Edlin—"
"You're the only one I want," Edlin said quietly, but with force. "I don't have a lover and if I did I wouldn't have agreed to the engagement without ending it."
"I—I know. I'm sorry—"
Edlin kissed him again. "Stop saying you're sorry. If I had just told you—" He broke off, sighed, then kissed Terrell again, hard and quick, before pulling away and standing up. He cleaned Terrell off and righted his clothes in silence, before leading them back out into the sitting room and settling them on the sofa.
Terrell frowned and lightly touched Edlin's sleeve, moving closer when Edlin said nothing, his face still set in a frown. "What's wrong?"
"Everyone knows the Courtrights—my mighty father and his four sons," Edlin said, and the bitterness in his voice made Terrell freeze with surprise. "My father had an affair, years ago. He's never bothered to acknowledge the son his mistress bore."
"Pierre," Terrell said. "Pierre is your brother?"
Edlin nodded. "Yes. We met by chance, when Pierre went to see my father…" His face clouded, muscles tightening beneath Terrell's fingers. "He wanted assistance for his mother; my father tossed him out. I was curious and followed him, and eventually learned the truth. I helped his mother and have kept in touch ever since. Everyone thinks I am his patron and that has made his life easier. But he hates the theatre and soon I will be spending practically all of my time at Fivecoats. I was hoping—"
He had never seen Edlin uncertain before and Terrell found he did not like it. In fact he rather loathed seeing Edlin so miserable. "You wanted Pierre to come to Fivecoats?"
"Yes," Edlin nodded. "He's smart—too smart to be wasted on the stage, although he is a fine actor."
"He is," Terrell said quietly. "I wanted to hit him."
Edlin laughed and looked at him, expression turning somber as he lightly stroked the side of Terrell's face with his fingers. "I am sorry for the confusion. I should have said all of this sooner."
"I should have just asked." Terrell sighed. "So why did you not say something sooner?"
Smiling ruefully, Edlin said, "Well for one, I never expected to become so enamored of and distracted by my fiancé. I had every intention of making us friends—I did not want to be married to a stranger, after all. But you are more than a little distracting and I kept letting myself be distracted. So I kept putting it off. I also was not certain how you would take to the idea. Pierre is an actor, hardly respectable, and only my half-brother—"
"I don't care," Terrell burst out, staring hard at the carpet as his face grew warm. "Do whatever you want. As long as he is not your lover, I don't care who or what he is."
Edlin cupped his chin and forced him to look up, before kissing him. He dragged Terrell across the sofa until he was sprawled across Edlin's lap, twisting so they lay together. Terrell held fast, tangling his fingers in Edlin's hair and kissing back feverishly despite the soreness of his abused lips. "Edlin—"
"You have to know you're the only one I want," Edlin murmured, sucking on his skin. His teeth scraped and worked along his jaw and down his throat as he unknotted and discarded Terrell's neck cloth.
Terrell's breath hitched as Edlin nipped at just the right point on his throat, but it did not completely banish the memory of all of his earlier uncertainties. "You are some years older than me and much more experienced—" He gasped the words out between more of those sharp, biting kisses, half-wondering if he was going to wake up covered in bruises and bite marks. That he was completely untroubled by the thought, and even liked it, should have given him pause, but he simply could not be bothered to think that much. "Pierre is beautiful and you could do much better than a—a shy, awkward scholar—"
Edlin made a noise like a growl that went straight to Terrell's cock, before taking his mouth again. He only relented when Terrell was dizzy and desperate to breathe. "I could ask for no better than you, Terrell. Have I not made it clear that it's you I want? I know we started out only a convenience, but from the moment I actually met you—"
Terrell cut Edlin off with a kiss that time. "We—" He broke off, suddenly shy, but tamped it down and said firmly, "We are far more than convenient, at least for my part."
The last remnants of uncertainty on Edlin's face vanished as he smiled, sweet and happy; the prettiest smile Terrell had seen from him yet. He felt a sudden hot rush of possessiveness. No one else was allowed to make Edlin smile that way. "I would say, my dear, that there is a definite mutual lack of convenience."
Terrell smiled back and leaned down for another kiss—and felt the hard press of the box still in his inner jacket pocket. He drew back and sat up, reaching into his jacket.
"What—" Edlin frowned in a way that on any other man would have been a pout.
"I—I have a gift for you," Terrell replied, suddenly feeling shy. He pulled out the box and fumbled, annoyed and embarrassed when it tumbled to the ground alongside the sofa. Muttering beneath his breath, he reached down, pressing against Edlin in his stretching reach. He jerked in surprise as Edlin's hands spread across his ass.
"Stop that," Terrell ordered, squirming in
a way that really did not help the situation at all. Swearing, he made one last reach and grabbed the box, sitting up again, flushed and exasperated and hard. "Here," he said, setting the box on Edlin's chest. "You really are quite incorrigible."
"Only human, my dear," Edlin replied with a smirk. He shifted until he was sitting up, keeping Terrell splayed across his lap, and then opened the box, breaking into a boyish grin. "It's beautiful," he said, before holding the box out to Terrell. "Put it on me?"
"What?" Terrell asked, startled—but the happy, hopeful look Edlin gave him made him helpless. He would do whatever was asked if Edlin looked like that while asking it. It felt strangely intimate, more so than even the way their hard cocks pressed together, to reach out and clumsily unscrew the ruby already in Edlin's ear and replace it with the sapphire.
"How does it look?" Edlin asked, reaching up to lightly touch it.
Terrell didn't bother to look at the earring, eyes only for Edlin as he replied, "Beautiful."
Edlin smiled and drew him back down, hands splaying across his back as they kissed. Terrell's lips ached something fierce and he rather thought his lip had split again, but he just did not care. Edlin was his; that was all that mattered.
He whimpered as Edlin pressed closer still and really wished the bastard would leave off the teasing already. "Edlin—stop—"
"Certainly not," Edlin smirked, dragging his tongue across Terrell's split lip and sucking on it. Then they were moving, Edlin lifting him up as he rose and pushed Terrell down onto the floor. Edlin opened his breeches, cock hard and wet and leaking. Terrell moaned at the sight and reached out to touch, relishing the way Edlin swore and moved helplessly in his fingers. Edlin's hand wrapped around Terrell's, forcing it to still. "I have every intention of being inside you before I finish, my dear."
"Then hurry," Terrell urged, lifting his hips as Edlin fumbled with his breeches. He had to pause to remove Terrell's shoes, before he finally had Terrell bare from the waist down. It seemed deliciously wrong, somehow, to still be wearing his jacket as Edlin slid slick fingers into him, the other hand on his bare thigh. Terrell briefly wondered where he had come by the oil so fast, but then Edlin's fingers moved just so and it became impossible to think about anything but riding them and begging noisily for more. Finally, when he thought he could not bear one more minute of teasing, Edlin withdrew his fingers and moved Terrell's legs up and out, before slowly pushing inside. Once he was fully seated, Edlin leaned down to kiss Terrell hard and quick, then drew back and began to move. He wasted no time on slow, instead proceeding immediately to hard and fast. The cloth of his breeches rubbed against Terrell's skin with every movement.
