The Actor and the Earl

by Rebecca Cohen

  Anthony saw him, reached over, and picked up a piece of rabbit. “Come, my love, let me feed you.”

  Sebastian was set to refuse, but, conscious of the wedding guests, he opened his mouth. Anthony smiled and fed him the small piece of rabbit, stroking Sebastian’s cheek with his other hand as he did so. The light touch of Anthony’s fingers made his breath hitch and his heart rate quicken. He opened his mouth wider to accept another morsel, which Anthony happily provided.

  For a moment, it was as if it was just the two of them, alone. Anthony’s pupils dilated as Sebastian licked his lips, but the spell was broken as a cheer went up, and a burly man seated at the head of the table on their left called for another toast.

  “That,” whispered Anthony as the guest wished the couple a successful marriage, “is Lord Tobias Tallin, one of the richest men in England. The woman to his right, who disapproved of your table manners earlier, is Lady Alice, his wife.”

  Sebastian nodded, not trusting his voice as Anthony rested his hand on his thigh, the heat from it radiating through the layers of his skirts. He reached out to pick up his goblet for the toast, but knocked it sideways, spilling the red wine across the silk cloth.

  Sebastian was on his feet, flushed with embarrassment as the wine spread across the table. “I… I’m sorry.”

  Anthony shushed him, picking up the goblet. “It is just wine. Nothing to be sorry about.”

  A servant was already cleaning up the spill, and another refilled the goblet. Sebastian yelped as Anthony pulled him back so he was sitting in his lap. Sebastian looked quickly to the guests, expect them to scandalized by Anthony’s antics, but while a couple of the women narrowed their eyes at the impropriety, most of the others were smiling and laughing at the sight. Anthony offered Sebastian his own goblet to drink from for the toast, which Sebastian accepted, unable to drag his eyes away from Anthony’s, and he thought Anthony was going to kiss him again, but instead he took the goblet back and drank deeply from it.

  The next course arrived, and Sebastian attempted to sit in the empty chair, but Anthony held him firm, his arm around Sebastian’s waist preventing him from escaping. The second course was just as extravagant as the first. Silver salvers loaded with chickens and pigeons were presented to the guests, and three large sturgeons cooked with parsley joined the food parade, with the centerpiece being a whole roast boar with an apple in its mouth.

  Throughout the courses, Anthony was attentive, feeding him bits of meat and sugary delicacies or stroking the back of his neck while being careful not to dislodge Sebastian’s wig as the minstrels continued to play. The food was so expensive that it would’ve been mere fantasy for him to afford during his time in the theater. Over the different courses, guests came to give their blessing, either individually or as couples. Anthony introduced each in turn, and Sebastian realized every one of them must’ve been a member of the nobility and a regular at court. But although their words sounded sincere, Sebastian could tell by their expressions or something about their eyes that they were more curious about Anthony’s choice of wife than having any real desire to wish them well in their start to married life.

  There was only so much Sebastian could eat with the corset in place, and by the time the final course was finished, he had to wave away any attempt from Anthony to feed him further. The hours had bled away in a stream of faces, whose names Sebastian thought he would never remember if they were to meet again, and the constant touches of Anthony, which warmed his skin and made it very difficult to remember that their marriage was nothing more than playacting and convenience.

  With a final round of toasting, Anthony guided Sebastian to his feet, and they took their leave, exiting the hall hand in hand to the applause of the wedding guests. When the large door closed behind them, they stood together at the foot of an ornate wooden staircase lit by candles.

  Anthony grabbed both of his hands and kissed them. “Our wedding night awaits, if you desire it so.”

  “I have never….” began Sebastian.

  “That was not my question.” Anthony squeezed his hands. “Let me take care of you.”

  The gentleness behind Anthony’s words and the hours he’d spent on the other man’s lap made Sebastian’s uncertainty evaporate. He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  Anthony smiled, his face lighting up. “Come, then.”

  Together they climbed the stairs, passing paintings of English landscapes, and when they reached the top, Sebastian realized they were not alone. He looked over his shoulder and saw a woman with an ample figure and ginger hair following behind them.

  Anthony saw what caught Sebastian’s attention. “This is Miriam. She has agreed to be your lady’s maid. I thought you would prefer to… er…”—he waved at Sebastian’s dress—“be more yourself.”

  “Oh. But what about…?” He stared purposefully at Anthony, making the same motion at his dress.

  “Miriam has my full confidence.”

  Miriam smirked, a catlike expression on her round face, and curtseyed. “My lady, let me help you ready yourself for your chamber.”

  They stopped outside a door about halfway down another candlelit corridor. “Your room, Lady Bronwyn,” said Anthony with a bow. “Mine is the other side, and there is a connecting door. Knock when you are ready.”

  Miriam stepped forward and opened the door as Anthony disappeared into his own room. In front of Sebastian was a four-poster bed with heavy brocade covering the mattress, looking more comfortable than anything he had slept in for years. The walls were paneled in the same dark wood of the staircase, and to the right of the bed, a tapestry of a hunting scene had been hung in prime position. There was little other furniture, apart from a love seat in the large window and a washstand with a porcelain bowl and a pile of washcloths.

  “Perhaps, ma’am, I mean, sir….” began Miriam.

  “Please, call me Sebastian.”

  “I’m not sure that would be proper.”

  He watched Miriam pour some water from a large jug into the porcelain bowl. “I’m not sure there is anything proper in this situation.”

  She smiled. “Very good, Sebastian. Lord Anthony thought you might need help with dressing, and has asked me to assist you.”

  “He has trusted you with a great secret.”

  “He has my loyalty. My husband is his estate manager, and we both wish to protect Earl Crofton, as he has protected us when we were in need.”

  She began to untie the laces on the sleeves of his dress. “I know you are wary,” she said, “but if anything, I am more wary of you. I have known the earl and his family all my life. You are the newcomer, so surely you should be the one to be suspected.”

  He opened his mouth to argue but realized Miriam was correct. “Be that so, but I am the one who could lose their head.”

  “Then we must be careful not to give anyone any reason to remove it from your shoulders.”

  Sleeves gone, he picked up a washcloth and began to wipe away his makeup, wanting to do something to prevent Miriam from taking any more of his clothes. “I am not used to an audience when I am undressing.”

  “Rest assured, you are young enough to be my son. Your modesty is safe with me.” Miriam laughed. “We will go no further than your shift. You can remove your hose yourself.”

  Miriam worked quickly, removing the individual pieces of Sebastian’s costume until he stood in just his hose and shift. He took off his wig and removed the rest of the white paint and rouge, rinsing his face in the water and depositing all the soiled washrags in it.

  “Is there anything else you need, either tomorrow or for when we reach Crofton Hall?” she asked, picking up the wash bowl with his dress draped over her arm.

  The dirty cloths in the bowl reminded him of one thing he would have to do to ensure he passed muster as a woman. “I will need to shave—not as often as some men, I admit, but at least every few days, if Lady Bronwyn is not to sport a black beard.”

  “I will see to it. Good night, Sebastian.
”

  Miriam left, and Sebastian was alone for the first time since Claire had bullied her way into his room that morning. In some ways he could scarcely believe it had been earlier the very same day. He rolled down his hose and laid them across the love seat, leaving him dressed only in his linen shift. Someone was moving around in the adjacent room, and that could only be Anthony. For the first time, he saw the connecting door and the bolt at the top of it that kept it locked, and he knew that the decision on how he would spend the rest of the night was in his own hands. He couldn’t deny he was nervous, but there was a louder voice, a voice wanting to explore the heat that rose within him when Anthony touched him, a desire that thrummed inside of him that he wanted to release.

  Swallowing the last of his doubt, Sebastian knocked softly on the door and drew back the bolt, knowing that Anthony would not refuse him entry.

  It was slightly muffled, but he heard Anthony call, “Come in, Sebastian.”

  Sebastian pushed the door open, his heart beating like it was trapped in his throat.

  The room was much larger than the one behind him. It had a large fireplace as well as an impressive-looking desk and sturdy chair. But the room held little interest to Sebastian, as standing at the foot of the large four-poster bed was Anthony. He too was only wearing his shift, but Sebastian doubted his chest was full of butterflies, not by the way he held his arms open in invitation.

  Sebastian stepped into the embrace, Anthony’s arms wrapping around him and holding him tight. The warmth from the caress was like nothing Sebastian had experienced before, his body molding to Anthony’s as if it was where it belonged. Anthony pulled away enough to look at him properly, and kissed him.

  Unlike the kisses they had shared before, this was not chaste. There could be no mistaking the intention behind a kiss so full of passion. Sebastian returned it willingly. Kissing, he knew, and at least in this small part, he would not disappoint. Anthony kissed him deeper, and Sebastian groaned with want, his body demanding.

  Hands slipped under the hem of his shift, and Sebastian shuddered involuntarily as Anthony stroked his thighs and buttocks, trembling from the intensity of what were the softest of touches.

  Anthony stepped back, and Sebastian was bereft from the loss of his warmth. But the heat returned fourfold at the look of hunger on Anthony’s face. Seconds later, his shift was pulled off, and Sebastian stood naked, Anthony’s appraising stare growing darker and more full of heat as his fingers caressed Sebastian from the hollow of his throat down his chest and belly, just stopping short of the nest of curls and Sebastian’s very interested manhood.

  “Beautiful,” Anthony whispered.

  Sebastian was guided backward, hitting the bed and losing his balance so he landed on his back, starring up at Anthony, who looked like a man who had found a hidden treasure. He scooted up the bed, and Anthony, removing his own shift with elegant ease, settled next to him. Anthony was a sea of pale skin with golden curls across his chest. Sebastian reached out to touch him, hesitant at first, but as his fingers traced the soft hair around Anthony’s nipples, the other man groaned deeply. Sebastian ran his hand over Anthony’s belly, ghosting over the head of his swollen cock.

  Anthony bent down and kissed him possessively, his tongue demanding entry, which Sebastian freely gave and to which he responded keenly. “You say you have not done this before, yet you know just where to touch me to inflame my ardor,” Anthony murmured.

  “I know where I like to touch myself.”

  Anthony chuckled but did not reply, choosing instead to work a trail of kisses down Sebastian’s body, each one causing Sebastian to squirm in delight, but the sensation was nothing compared to the feeling of Anthony’s mouth on his cock, swallowing him down, surrounding him with wet heat.

  This had only happened to him one time before, a rushed and ill-advised tumble after having drunk far too much mead after an opening night, and it had been nothing like this, with Anthony’s mouth and tongue worshipping him, drawing out his pleasure rather than trying to rush him through it. A strong hand stopped him from lurching upward, keeping him in place, telling him who was in charge. Sebastian’s whole body sang, the tremor of pleasure burning upward from his toes and down from his shoulders. He cried out in ecstasy as he found his release.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t….” Sebastian said, gasping out each word.

  Anthony crawled toward him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a predatory look in his eyes. “No reason to apologize. Tonight is far from over.”

  Anthony kissed him again, and Sebastian tasted his own salty essence on the other man’s lips. He was disappointed when Anthony pulled away to retrieve a small vial from under a pillow. “Just a little oil to help ease the way. Now roll onto your belly.”

  Sebastian hesitated, biting his bottom lip. Anthony noticed and stroked his thigh with the back of his hand. “Trust me, Sebastian.”

  Slowly, he rolled onto his front. He couldn’t help but flinch as Anthony’s fingertips brushed his spine, having expected them to delve straight between the crease of his buttocks, but he relaxed as Anthony kissed each of his shoulder blades and caressed his sides. His own body began to respond, the curl of heat spreading through him as Anthony sat between his legs.

  Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean Sebastian was naïve. He’d heard enough of the other boys’ stories of their escapades in dark corners, coarse jokes at the shape of Sebastian’s arse and how he’d be perfect for a bit of fun under the stage once the theater had cleared out. However, he hadn’t expected the thrill as Anthony teased him open, coaxing fingers that worked inside while his other hand traced patterns on his sides. He was barely coherent, rubbing his hardened cock against the bedding to get some friction, as Anthony entered him. Sebastian moaned as, inch by stretched inch, he welcomed Anthony inside, and the pain he had expected was overridden by the amazing sensation of being totally claimed.

  Anthony kept his rhythm constant to begin with, Sebastian pushing back to meet his strokes, his body desperate for the contact, for every touch, every thrust. He gasped and writhed as the pace was upped, tumbling into another release, panting and moaning Anthony’s name as he came. Anthony cried out his own pleasure only moments later.

  They fell into a tangle of limbs, with Anthony kissing him fiercely, pressing kisses all over Sebastian’s face and whispering a litany of adulation into his skin. Their breathing finally leveled out and hearts returned to their normal beats. Using his discarded shift, Anthony cleaned away the evidence of their lovemaking, throwing the soiled garment to the floor before pulling Sebastian to him.

  Sebastian burrowed closer, wrapping his arms around Anthony. He didn’t know if he should stay, but he had no intention of leaving unless he was asked. Anthony appeared to have no desire to let him go, holding him tighter. Sebastian, happy and content in his lover’s arms, let Morpheus take him, drifting easily into sleep.

  Chapter 5

  THE soft knocking on the connecting door woke Sebastian. It took a moment to remember where he was. He looked over to the other side of the bed to wake Anthony and was disappointed to find he was on his own.

  Sebastian sat up and pulled the bedclothes to chest height before calling out, “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Miriam peered around it. “Good morning. When you’re ready, I’ve laid out a clean shift and pair of hose for you. And there’s a bowl of warm water waiting.”

  “Thank you.”

  She must have sensed his discomfort. “I’ll be in the corridor. When you’re decent, shout out.”

  Sebastian nodded, looking back to the bed or, to be more accurate, the empty space where he’d expect Anthony to be. “Has Earl Crofton breakfasted already?”

  “Not yet. He’s making preparations for the journey back to Crofton Hall. I’m sure he’ll join you when he’s done.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  Miriam made to leave but appeared to stop herself. “You seem like a nice lad, and I’m onl
y going to say this because I don’t want to see you hurt. Don’t go giving your heart to Anthony Crofton, Sebastian. He’s a good man, but….”

  Sebastian clung tighter to the bedclothes, not sure he really wanted Miriam to explain further, but at the same time unable to leave things hanging. “But?”

  “He’s a man who enjoys his pleasures.” Miriam smiled sadly. “You’re not the first young man, nor woman, that’s woken alone in that bed.”

  Sebastian didn’t know how to respond to that, so he chose to say nothing, staring down at a loose thread in the coverlet. Miriam sighed, but left without saying anything more. He waited until he heard the outer door of his room open and close before he swung his legs out of the bed and stood up.

  Back in his own room, Sebastian quickly washed and pulled on the hose and shift that had been left on the bed, next to a pile of garments which he suspected would be the dress he’d wear to travel to Crofton Hall. He called out for Miriam to enter, and she bustled in.

  He stood still as she dressed him, layering the clothes far more efficiently than he could’ve done on his own. She seemed distracted, and Sebastian wondered what was concerning her when she stopped halfway through lacing his corset. “I spoke out of turn earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I’m playing my sister, his wife. I’ve no illusions that I’m anything more to him than that.”

  She hummed, her concern clear in the narrowing of her eyes. “Be careful.”

  With a squeeze to his waist, she continued adjusting his clothes, and he was warmed by her gesture. “I will,” he said with a small smile and accepted the wig that she handed to him.

  “Right. Breakfast time for Lady Bronwyn,” she said as he made the final adjustments to his wig.