by Lynn Lorenz
“To let it be suspected.” Hugh smirked.
“Are you denying the rumor is completely false?”
“Completely.” Hugh waved his hand in the air, as if brushing away the rumors. “What else did the villagers say about me?”
“That Baymore died of a broken heart and that you broke it,” Will said.
Hugh stared into his wine goblet. “If that were true, he would have died seventeen years ago when he found me out. I have been a disappointment to him ever since. Not that I could please him prior to his knowledge of my lovers.” Hugh tossed the remainder of his wine down his throat.
For a long moment, both men were silent.
Will cleared his throat. “Did many of the neighboring nobles attend his funeral? It happened so quickly after his death, we only received word yesterday.” Will shrugged.
“No. As you said, it happened suddenly.” Hugh leaned back. “I saw no point in waiting.”
“So there were no visitors?”
“None.”
“How sad.” Will looked at Hugh. “For your father to not be attended.”
“He was lucky I was there,” Hugh sneered. “Of course, I was the last person he would have wanted in attendance.”
“No, there was never any love lost between the two of you.” Will shook his head.
“Not like you, William. You still have your father’s esteem and love?”
“I have given him no reason to rescind it,” Will replied.
“Does he know you are a sodomite?” Hugh challenged him. “That you fuck men and that you let them fuck you? That you get on your knees to suck their cocks?” His gaze bored into Will’s as he spit the words out.
“He does not know that, yet.” Will glanced across the room. The bed stood against the wall, hung with thick, dark red velvet draperies. One panel was held back with a golden cord, exposing mounds of pillows, inviting Will to take his ease amongst them.
“And when he learns of it?”
Will shrugged. “I pray his love for me will hold, and that no matter whom I prefer as a lover, it will not discolor my honor in his eyes.”
Hugh’s head fell back as he laughed. “Oh William. You delight me. Honor.” He sobered and his brows drew together. “You always were the better man between the two of us.”
“But you were the most handsome.” Will raised his goblet to Hugh in a toast.
“Well, that’s true.” He leaned forward and his voice softened. “But you, William, hold a special charm, even now.”
A chill ran through Will at his words. Damn, Hugh was a brilliant seducer. If Will hadn’t suspected that Hugh had killed his father and possibly killed Jackson, he knew he might have found himself in Hugh’s arms within the night.
Hugh stood, scraping back the chair. “May I speak freely?”
“When have you ever held your tongue?” Will laughed, but his stomach clenched.
“Jon is sweet, indeed. But he is a child.” Hugh shrugged. “I want a man in my bed.”
“I’m sure you could find one, if you could just keep your hands off the lads,” Will drawled.
Hugh chuckled. “Well, I do admit a certain fondness for youth. Perhaps I search for my own lost youth in them.” He shrugged. “No, I mean, I want someone to rule Baymore with me.”
“A bold thought for you, sharing power. This someone? Do you mean to have a lifelong companion? Or another lover subject to your whims but not your love?”
“Like you were, you mean.”
“You don’t miss much, Hugh. You threw me out once, why not again?”
Hugh sighed. “I was a fool.”
“I loved you,” Will said. “You told me that you loved me.”
Hugh’s eyes searched the ceiling of his room. “I was wrong to mislead you, William.”
“So, now you’re going to tell me you love me?” Will snorted.
“No, I won’t lie. Not love—but desire, want, crave. I need a man such as you to stand at my side. A nobleman, such as myself. You and I both know a commoner might be fine for a quick fuck, but not to represent Baymore, not to stand by our sides.” Hugh stepped behind Will and took a tress of Will’s hair in his hand. “You are the man I seek.” He bent over, brought the tress to his nose, and inhaled the scent of Will’s hair.
Will took several slow breaths before speaking. His eyes leveled across the room. Damn, Hugh had placed him in this seat just so he could stare at the bed all evening.
“I might be flattered by such an offer.” Will pushed his chair back, forcing Hugh to move to the side. Will stood and slipped from behind the table. The tress slid from between Hugh’s fingers as Will pulled away. “What about your current lover, Jon?”
“You seemed interested enough in him. We would keep him as long as you wished.”
“Like a pet we’d share? Where does that leave him?”
“Better than living on the street where I found him. What say you?” Hugh’s dark eyes held Will in their grip.
Will swallowed. His heart pounded as if he were a frightened rabbit and the fox’s nose was shoved down his bolt hole. This was certainly a surprising turn of events. A tactic to throw him off or some deluded truth? Will didn’t care which. He just needed to get out of this room. All the air had left and he struggled to breathe.
Will took another step back. “That I need to sleep on it.” If Hugh took him in his arms, would he be able to tell Will was repulsed? Was it repulsion or arousal? There was a fine distinction, to be sure. That he was frightened, most certainly. Will inhaled and took stock of his feelings.
He would betray Jackson and himself if he allowed Hugh to touch him.
“Would you take your sleep here?” Hugh’s brow rose as his gaze flicked to his bed.
“In my room.” Will watched Hugh’s smile fall. “For tonight.” He walked to the door and shifted the latch. “In the morn, Hugh.”
“William?” In a few quick strides, Hugh stood directly in front of Will.
Will flattened to the door, feeling the hard wood against his back and looked across into Hugh’s eyes. Even though they were the same height and nearly the same weight, Hugh had always seemed the larger man, or at least, Will had always felt smaller in comparison.
Hugh raised his hand and slid his fingers over Will’s jawline as his thumb brushed Will’s bottom lip. A shiver ran through Will and he swallowed hard, unable to look away, like a bird frozen by the gaze of a snake.
“I could please you in so many ways tonight, William.” Hugh’s warm breath played across Will’s face as Hugh leaned closer, lips parting in preparation to take Will in a kiss. Will inhaled and his sac tightened at the scent that poured off Hugh—a potent male musk that promised pleasure.
Will hung suspended over a dark chasm as Hugh drew near. Will feared he’d give in once Hugh’s lips touched his. Feared he would betray the man he loved. Feared that he was nothing more than what he’d been those years ago, a whore who would take any abuse as long as Hugh fucked him.
Will pulled his head from Hugh’s grip. He was not that young or foolish anymore.
And he would never be Hugh’s whore again.
“I said, in the morn.” With that, Will opened the door and slipped out.
He had to slow his steps to his room. Fleeing down the hall like a frightened maiden wouldn’t do.
Once in his room, he shut the door and walked to the table. Will lit the lantern, toed off his boots, and pulled his shirt over his head.
“I couldn’t wait. I hope you don’t mind.”
Will spun at the soft voice. Jon sat on the bed, his arms wrapped around his knees, pale hair falling over his shoulders and looking as if he were so much younger than the eighteen years he claimed.
Heaving a great sigh, Will slumped into the chair. “You startled me.”
“Keep your voice down,” Jon whispered. “Come sit on the bed so we can talk in quiet.” He patted the bed.
Will rose and sat next to Jon. Using a finger, he brushed a lock of hair from Jon’s face. �
�Now, what’s all this about needing my help?”
Jon looked up into Will’s face, his lips pursed in a petulant smile. “Kiss me welcome, my Lord William.”
Will smiled, leaned forward, and kissed him. Jon sighed as Will sat back. “Tell me.”
Jon’s eyes darted to the door. “Where is Hugh?” His voice was pitched very low.
“In his room, I suppose. That’s where I left him.”
“Did the two of you fuck?” Jon sounded almost hopeful.
“No.”
“But, he wants you, I could tell.” Jon frowned.
“Hugh wants everything he sees. It doesn’t mean he’ll get it.”
Jon rested his chin on his knees. “I wish I were as strong as you.”
“Jon, I was young once and I know the strength of Hugh’s attraction. Now, we don’t have much time and I have things to attend to. What did you need?”
“Take me with you when you leave.”
“You can leave at any time.”
“I can’t.” Jon shook his head. “I’ve seen too much.” Now, his eyes took on the deep fear Will had seen before in them.
“What have you seen?” Will took Jon’s arm in a tight grip. “Tell me, Jon. Did you see a man, a stranger, the day the old duke died? He would have been a big man.”
Jon nodded, his lips clamped tight shut.
“Where is he? What happened to him?” Will almost shook the man to get the answer from him.
“He’s captured.”
Will’s heart soared and plummeted in the same moment.
“Tell me exactly what happened.” Will leaned close as they whispered. His heart beat in his throat like some living thing he’d swallowed but couldn’t choke down.
“I was in my room. Hugh came in and used the spy hole. My room sits next to the old duke’s. He put me there to irritate the old man.” Jon shook his head. “Hugh listened for a while and got very upset, but I didn’t hear. Then he searched the room for a weapon and found some old mallet.”
Will felt his stomach flip in dread.
“He waited until they passed and then he…” Jon paused and swallowed. Tears filled his eyes as he turned them toward Will.
“He what? Take a breath and tell me.” He petted Jon’s hair in reassurance as if he were a child.
“I went to the door. The big man was lying on the floor. There was blood on the side of his head. I saw Hugh strike the old warder in the chest with the mallet. I heard…” A sob broke from his chest as he hugged himself and rocked. “Then Hugh ordered the guards to take the big man to the cell.”
“In the cellars?”
Jon nodded. “Hugh went to His Grace’s room and I went to the warder. He had been nice to me.” Jon shrugged. “He was dying.” Jon gulped air. “He told me of a paper. He said to find it and hide it and use it later.”
“Then what?”
“I went back to my room and opened the spy hole.” Jon’s body trembled. His voice dropped so low Will could barely hear him. “Hugh killed his father. With a pillow over the old man’s face.” Tears spilled over his cheeks as he dissolved into sobs.
Will pulled the young man into his arms and held him. Hugh had killed two men, perhaps Jackson, too. No wonder Jon was so frightened. “Jon, does he know you saw him?”
“No, but if he finds out, he’ll kill me. If I’m lucky.” Jon wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“What of the big man? Does he still live?”
“Aye. In the cell. Hugh beat him for days.”
“God’s tears,” Will moaned.
“Who is he?” Jon looked into Will’s face.
“My lover. I came to free him.”
Jon’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “You came all the way from Holcombe and faced Hugh just to rescue him?”
“Aye. That’s what you do when you love someone.” Will offered Jon a kind smile.
Jon nodded and caught his bottom lip in his teeth. “I will help you. But you have to promise me to take me with you.”
“I promise.” Will pulled him in for a quick hug. “We’ll help each other.”
“I found the paper.” Jon clutched Will’s hand. “It said Hugh is not the Duke of Baymore. It said someone named Jackson is the duke’s rightful heir.”
“Jackson is my lover. He came to see his father.”
“Oh. That explains why Hugh attacked him.”
“Why didn’t he kill Jackson?”
Jon twisted his hair around his finger. “Hugh likes to hurt people. He made me watch one time. But I got sick and threw up.”
“You watched him beat Jackson? Tell me he’s well.” Will didn’t bother to hide the desperation in his voice.
“He lives. But Hugh only gives him water to keep him weak.” Jon shrugged.
Will stood. “Get up. Take me to him.”
“Now?” Jon’s eyes darted around the room.
“Aye. Before it’s too late.”
Will stood, put his shirt and boots on, and went to the desk. Lifting his sword belt from it, he strapped it on. He pulled the sword partway from the sheath, checked it, and then shoved it back home.
Jon hung back. “Wait. You need the paper.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s in the old duke’s bedroom. I hid it where Hugh would never find it.”
Will reached out his hand for Jon to take. “Come on.”
Jon nodded and stood. Will went to the door, cracked it open, and checked the hall. “All is clear. Let’s go. You lead the way.”
Jon slipped through and Will followed. Shutting the door as quietly as he could, he hurried down the hall after Jon, determined to save the man he loved.
If what Jon said about the paper was true, Jackson was the rightful heir to Baymore.
Chapter Fifteen
Jackson groaned and rubbed the side of his head. The throbbing had lessened, but it still ached every time he moved. Sightless in one eye, he crouched in a corner, his blind side to the wall to hide his condition from Hugh and the guards. If they knew, there was no telling what they’d do to him. It didn’t take much to imagine the worst.
His thirst was terrible. It burned in his throat, made his mouth too dry even to spit, his tongue a shriveled thing, and his body weak. Despite that, he pushed himself to a stand, unwilling to give up the use of his muscles, or just lie down and waste away. Instead, he shuffled around the cell and counted off the steps, his shoulder dragging along the wall. Five steps to the corner. Turn. Six steps to the next corner. Turn. Five to the corner. Turn. Then six back to his corner. He did five more laps, rested his head against the cool, damp stone, and then slid to the floor.
Now, he waited for the guards to come. Today, he’d attack the guards when they brought him water. Today, he’d take that arrow in his chest. Today, he would die.
He’d thought about trying to write Will a letter, but there was nothing in his cell to scratch with or on, except his own blood and the walls of the cell. Dramatic, but useless. Will would never see his message.
He’d write a simple, ‘”I loved you.” It was all Will had to know. Until the very end of Jackson’s life, Will had been in his thoughts. Hugh was there also, like a black snake, coiled, ready to strike.
Jackson imagined how he would kill his brother.
If he was already damned, could he be damned again for killing his brother? Even if that brother were evil, insane, and perverted beyond anything Jackson could have thought? Cain had been damned, certainly, but not twice damned. And Abel had not been Hugh, deserving of death. Jackson snorted. Theology had never been a subject he’d been interested in. Not that he’d had much schooling, but at least he could read and write.
Not like Hugh. He’d had tutors. So had Will. How could Will see anything of worth in a poor, uneducated mercenary? A half-blind mercenary. No, he couldn’t even call himself a mercenary anymore.
He rolled his shoulders to loosen them and watched the door. It should be soon. He closed his eyes and his ears stra
ined for the sounds the two men made as they brought him the water.
Silence. Not even the scurry of rats.
How much longer? Jackson debated making another circuit of his cell, but if he were too tired, he might fall asleep and miss his chance. Better to wait, keep alert, and be prepared to spring. There would only be a moment between hearing them and the door opening.
He listened and waited for his chance to die.
»»•««
Will took a torch from the wall sconce and slipped into the duke’s room as Jon squeezed in behind him. Shutting the door, Will scanned the room. A bed stood in the center of the room between two windows, and a large desk sat opposite it, bookcases spanning the wall behind it.
“Where did you hide the letter?” Will whispered next to Jon’s ear.
“Behind the desk. In the bookcase.” Jon grinned at him. “The one place I knew Hugh would never look.” He reached up on the shelf, picked up the large book, and lowered it gently to the desk. Will held up the torch.
“Of course. A Holy Bible. You’re brilliant, Jon.” Will slapped Jon’s back.
Grinning, Jon opened the book and thumbed through the pages. Nothing. He bit his lip and thumbed through it again. “I put it in the middle,” he said. The pages flipped by, and then it lay open to reveal a folded parchment stuck in between its pages.
“Here it is!” Jon cried out, then clapped a hand over his mouth.
Will took the paper and opened it. He quickly scanned it, then refolded it and stuck it inside his shirt. “Now, let’s get Jackson.”
They cracked open the door and checked the hall. Will replaced the torch and they walked at a normal pace to the stairs and then down them. At the bottom, they halted and scanned the great hall. It was empty, with only a fire burning in the hearth. They wove their way through it to the kitchen door. Will heard indistinct voices and the clatter of pots and pans.
Jon leaned against the wall outside the kitchen and pointed to a door in the wall. “That’s it,” he mouthed.
Will nodded. He stepped to the door, opened it, and peered inside. Another set of stone stairs descended. He looked about for a torch.
“The corridor below is kept lit. We just have to get down there and turn the corner,” Jon whispered.
