In the Company of Men Boxed Set

by Lynn Lorenz

  “He’ll love it.”

  Joss slid off my lap and tugged his clothing into place. “I’m ready.”

  “As I can see.” I slapped my hands on my thighs and stood. “Let’s find Tomas and Logan.”

  He nodded and ran for the door, throwing it open and dashing down the hall to Logan’s door. After pounding on it, he yelled, “Tomas, are you ready yet?”

  Logan opened the door, laughing. “What? Are there no guards to keep back the horde who beats on my door?”

  Tomas slipped out under his arm. “I’m ready! Let’s go!” And with that, the boys bolted down the hall to the stairs, leaving Logan and me alone in the hall.

  Logan touched my chest, placing his hand over my heart. “Ready?”

  “Let the feast begin,” I said, sorely tempted to pull him into my arms. Instead I crowded him into his room and shut the door behind us.

  With a quick move, I shoved my lover against the hard wood and took his mouth in a kiss. He groaned and opened to me as I thrust my now-hard cock against his. We kissed as we rutted, like two animals, letting our hunger build to the breaking point.

  With a shudder, Logan cried out and I swallowed down my name.

  I still hungered, but he reached down and stroked my cock through my leather breeches. Just his touch sent me over, and I too released, spilling and gasping.

  “Damn.” He pushed me off him. “Let me get a cloth.” He strode to a table, picked up a scrap of linen and cleaned himself up, then tossed it to me. It smelled of his cream, and I inhaled the scent of my lover, then wiped myself clean.

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He laughed. “We need to hurry, or the boys will return with the guard.”

  I opened the door, then realizing I still held the cloth, tossed it to the floor. Logan followed me out and pulled his door shut.

  “Good evening, Your Grace. Drake.” Duncan stood in the hall, leaning against the wall by the stairs. “That didn’t take long.” He grinned, the knowing bastard.

  My blood ran cold, and any happiness or contentment I’d felt drained from me as if a cork had been pulled from a cask. I put my hand on my sword. Logan’s order to treat Duncan as a guest and give him the run of the keep, be damned.

  I advanced on him. “Duncan, what are you doing lurking here in the corridor? If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were up to no good.”

  “Me? I promise you, I’m harmless.” He pushed off and took one step on the stair before looking back at us. “Your secret is safe.”

  Then he trotted down the stairs.

  I turned to Logan, fire burning in my heart to destroy any threat. “What did he mean by that?”

  “It’s nothing. Forget it.” Logan smiled and moved past me. “Duncan is no threat.”

  No matter how many times Logan told me that, I still didn’t believe it.

  Chapter Six

  Logan sat at the center of a table that stretched across one side of the hall. To his right, my chair waited for me. On his left, Tomas sat, fidgeting with his charger. Joss, as soon as he settled, would take his place next to me, and the other seats would hold a few of the men of our keep, like the master of horse, Peter, and his wife, and Logan’s mysterious guest, Duncan. Thankfully, he sat far away from me and Logan, but he leaned forward and gave me a smug smile. I wanted to knock it, and a few of his teeth, from his face.

  Instead, I nodded back, cordial, yet refined. I’d do nothing to upset Logan’s evening. Not if I could help it. Dealing with Duncan would come later, without anyone’s presence.

  I scanned the hall, locating and identifying all the lords and their wives, daughters, and sisters. All people I knew, had seen here in Marden keep, or in passing. These were some of the lesser nobles, and I knew each of them held hope that the duke’s gifts would be generous.

  They filled the tables below ours, toward the doors. The last row of benches and tables would be for the lowest ranked of them. Although not rich or powerful, Logan had invited them to receive gifts also.

  Some of the guests probably hoped for newer titles, more lands, or even something to add to their own treasuries. Logan was a generous man, I knew that firsthand. But I also knew Logan was strong enough to use this as a lesson in obedience.

  For one of the nobles to be summoned to court, then be passed over when Logan gave out his favors would be a painful, shame-filled public admonishment. The atmosphere in the hall ran like a tightly strung wire through all present. There were a few who looked more than worried.

  Logan was well liked and well-thought-of among his people, yet he could take this opportunity to let it be known who had displeased him. For the most part, I stayed out of the running of his lands. That belonged to his steward, a man who’d worked with his father many years ago. He would be the one to suggest those who should be rewarded and those who should be punished.

  A small band of musicians had been hired, and at Logan’s signal, they struck up their instruments, and the music began. Many of the folk took to the small open floor between the head table and the others, joining in a lively court dance. We watched from our seats, Logan keeping time with his hand on the table. The boys squirmed in their chairs, eager to join in. However, they were too young to dance, and besides they needed partners. None of the maidens attending were as young as our boys.

  The music ended, and Logan waved his hand. The servants brought out the great roasted boar’s head, its mouth stuffed with a rich red apple, and placed it on the table in front of the duke to everyone’s applause. Platters of roasted goose and other fowl followed it to the tables, and all eyes turned to Logan.

  He stood, raised his tankard of wassail, and welcomed all his guests, as servants passed among them and filled their tankards with the spicy brew. After a short acknowledgment of the season, he sat and began eating, signaling that everyone could touch the food in front of them.

  The feast went on for nearly an hour. I kept my eye on Duncan, when I wasn’t watching Logan and the boys. My men had been posted around the hall, and they had orders to squelch any fighting that might break out. This wasn’t the time or place for swords and daggers.

  Once the food and drink had waned, Logan called for his nobles, one by one, to approach the table where he sat to hand out his gifts to them, assisted by his steward.

  Surprisingly, in this first night, all received something, and everyone went away happy and content. The feast went on for another hour or so, and then Logan stood and bade his guests good night.

  By the time they had all left the keep, it was late. I tucked the boys into their beds, and I believe they were asleep before I’d closed the door. Logan came in just to see them before he turned in.

  “Good night, Drake. It went well, I think.” Logan smiled at me, his hand on his door.

  “It did, Your Grace. You were most generous to all present.” I had hopes he’d be generous with me later.

  “They were all favored men.” He nodded, then opened his door and went inside. “In the morn.” The door shut.

  I went to my room and entered. In no hurry to get to my lover, I undressed and put away my finery with care. I didn’t have as much as Logan, or wear them often, but during this season, I’d wear them every night.

  At last, my chores done, I went to the door that led to Logan’s room, expecting it to be open, but it didn’t budge.

  “Logan. The door is locked,” I called through the thick wood, unsure if he could even hear me. I knocked and waited.

  “I’m not well, my lord.” His voice came through the door. “Please forgive me for this, but I wish to pass this night alone.”

  I frowned. He’d never locked me out before. But then he’d never been ill either. Perhaps it was nothing more than a stomach malady. I could understand his desire to be alone, having had my share of bellyaches.

  Thinking nothing of his excuse, I said, “In the morn, then.” I went to my own bed and crawled under the covers. I hadn’t slept alone in long months, not since Logan had moved Toma
s to the boys’ room, and I’d taken his place.

  The night was cold without the warmth of his body next to mine, but eventually a full belly, the wine, and exhaustion took me, and I fell asleep.

  »»•««

  I woke early as usual, longing for my lover. I rose from the bed and went to the door, but it was still locked. I knocked.

  “Logan, are you still ill?”

  There was no answer. Perhaps he slept still, perhaps he still felt ill. I didn’t want to bother him, but worried if he needed anything. Surely he’d have called for a servant in the night if there had been more trouble.

  I sighed and returned to bed. The keep would come to life in a short while. My fire had burned low, now only embers, and the servant would be in soon to lay on more wood.

  Restless, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I’d become so used to sleeping with Logan that being without him seemed unnatural. Odd how something so simple, once changed, could throw a man off, make him feel unsteady. Unsure.

  Why had Logan locked the door? He could have just told me of his illness. I would have understood. Did he think I would storm his room, demand he submit to me, despite his poor feeling?

  It wasn’t like Logan, this secrecy. First Duncan, now this.

  I glared at the locked door.

  He’d known Duncan would be here, known it for what had to be a month or more, if he had indeed sent for the man. Why had he never spoken of it?

  I didn’t like the man, plain enough. He was handsome, where I was scarred. He looked as well made as I, yet he had an easy manner about him. Far more than myself. I was all thorns and prickles, and he had the look about his eyes of a more jovial man.

  Why did Logan send for him? Why lock me out?

  My mind jumped to what it feared the most, losing Logan to another.

  I leaped out of bed and rushed to dress. Urgency raced through me, but to what end? Once dressed, I strapped on my sword and dagger. Even more than usual, I felt naked without them.

  As I left my room, I scanned the corridor. Empty. The servants still hadn’t roused, and I wondered if perhaps they had drunk what was left of the wine and ale.

  At Logan’s door, I knocked. “It’s Drake, Your Grace.”

  Slowly the bar dragged back, and the door opened. Logan’s sleepy face greeted me.

  “Morn, Drake.” He scratched his belly. He wore only his sleeping gown, his long blond hair in disarray from the bed.

  I wanted him.

  God, only one night away from him, denied his body, and my lust for him had doubled.

  “Your Grace. How did you sleep?” I eyed him up and down with a look I hoped told him of my need for him.

  “Not well.” He sniffed. “I’ll be late coming down to morn meal. Can you get the boys ready?”

  “Aye.”

  “Good.” He stood there, looking down. “Fine.”

  “Fine.” I had no idea what to say, this behavior seemed so strange. The distance between us yawned like a great maw.

  Without a smile, he closed the door.

  My hand fisted, and I longed to beat it against the door and demand he explain.

  “Morn, Drake.” Duncan closed his door.

  How long had he been standing there? I turned to glare at him. Right then, I would have pulled my sword and run any man through, anger swelled so much inside me. But to take it out on anyone would be rash.

  I was not a rash man.

  “Duncan. I was just rousing the boys.” I went to their room and entered, leaving Duncan in the hall. “Morn, lads!” I sang out.

  Joss groaned, and Tomas sat up, bright-eyed and eager. “Da?”

  “No, your da is still getting ready. I’m going to get you both dressed today.”

  Joss got out of bed and went to his trunk, threw it open, and pulled out clothes. He sat on the floor with a thud and began dressing. Tomas, younger and more dependent, waited until I’d found his clothes and brought them to him.

  Once they were dressed, there was no holding them back. They were out the door and tumbling down the stairs to the tables to break their fast.

  “Good lads,” Duncan remarked as he fell into step beside me.

  “Aye.” I had no wish to pass pleasantries with the man.

  “I understand the Duke’s wife died of a fever several years ago, leaving him with the wee bairn.” Duncan motioned toward Tomas.

  “Aye.”

  “I also understand you have never married, and that the boy is your adopted son.” His words halted me in my steps.

  I turned to face him, my voice lowered. “Joss is my son, adopted or not.”

  Duncan nodded. “I can see the affection he has for you and you for him.”

  I didn’t speak. It was none of his business.

  “I can also see the affection Logan has for you and you for him.”

  Now the man stepped into dangerous territory. “He’s my duke.”

  “And you his master of arms.”

  I stared at him. What was he up to? Did he think I would say something to damn Logan or myself?

  “So much concern for someone the duke barely knows.” I glanced across the hall at the boys. A servant had brought them bowls of barley oats, and they were eating.

  “But someone the duke trusts, even with his deepest secret.” Duncan grinned and then strode to the table and took a chair.

  I followed, chewing over his words. Had Logan told Duncan of our love? I found that hard to believe. Without telling me? But then, he hadn’t told me of Duncan’s visit.

  As I sat and tore off a heel of bread, I swore that I would speak with Logan about this man and get to the truth of it.

  Chapter Seven

  Peter arrived at the end of the meal, just as Logan came downstairs, and asked if I’d address a problem with the men. I gave Logan a smile and Duncan a wary nod and sent the boys off to play.

  I didn’t like it, but it left Duncan and Logan alone. As I left, they remained at the table, talking. Nothing unusual, but in my current state of aggravation, it only served to rile me more.

  Once we reached the armory, Peter explained the problem. “The men have polished all the steel they could find. I’ve moved them onto their boots, but by this afternoon, we’re going to run out of things to shine.” He grinned at me, his hands on his hips. “I’ve already had to stop several arguments. The men are tired of being cooped up like chickens inside the keep.”

  “And your solution?” I asked. Peter was a good man, had well proven himself as my second, and I trusted his decisions.

  “Let me take a small garrison out. We’ll march down to the town, do a patrol along the road, and return before sundown. I’ll call it securing the roads for His Grace’s guests.” He leaned against the doorway and waited for my answer.

  “You would know better than I what their tenor is. You room with them, not I.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “Take them, then. And do so, each day until the Twelfth Night. Hopefully, it will cure what ails them.”

  “A fighting force needs to keep on its toes, or else they start to fight among each other.” Peter nodded. “I’ll rotate the men between patrols and guard duty. That should keep them sharp.”

  “And too tired to fight each other.” I started to leave, wishing to catch Logan and have that talk with him, but Peter grabbed my arm to stay me.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, that man. The one from the Highlands? I’m not sure I trust him.” Peter glanced toward the keep.

  “I too feel a distrust for him. But he’s Logan’s guest.”

  “Do you know him?” Peter lowered his voice. “Is he one of your…kind?”

  Peter had spent a night with Logan and me many months ago, but I hadn’t realized he’d be so quick to spot the signs. “I’m not sure.” I had no answer for him.

  “Keep him close, Drake.” And with a nod, Peter left.

  I stood in the door, thinking of all that had happened since Dunc
an’s arrival. And how I liked very little of it.

  It was time to have that talk.

  »»•««

  An hour later, I found Logan in the hallway upstairs, going into his room.

  “Your Grace, a moment.”

  He turned and leaned against the doorway as I approached him, cocking an eyebrow upward.

  “I have need to speak with you.”

  “Is this urgent? I’m quite occupied.”

  “Well, no. Not really.” His guarded manner put me on unsteady ground. When had Logan ever been too busy for me?

  “Then it can wait until later.” With a smile, he opened his door and went inside.

  Once again, he locked me out.

  I walked to the end of the hall and settled into the shadows. I’d never spied on him before, but for the life of me, I couldn’t help myself.

  Only a short while later, Duncan’s door opened, he stepped out, pulled it quietly shut and, satchel in hand, crept to Logan’s door. I say crept because he moved to ensure he didn’t make a sound.

  A quick rap on the door. “Logan. It’s Duncan.”

  The door opened, and I heard Logan say, “Come in. Quickly.”

  Duncan disappeared inside, and the door shut.

  A dagger drove into my heart, twisting and gutting me. Logan had sent me off and taken Duncan in?

  I staggered out of my hiding place and clutched at the newel post at the stairs. Not sure where to go, down the stairs, or to my room, I wavered.

  Mortally wounded, I had no idea where to go to die. My own room, next to Logan’s where he and Duncan were? That was unthinkable. Downstairs, to where? The barracks? The stables?

  Staying up here only tempted me to acts of foolishness. Storming Logan’s door, beating on it, demanding he come out and face me. Demanding to fight Duncan for the right to be Logan’s favorite.

  For a moment, in this wildness of mind, I could see my insanity leading to all our deaths. Duncan’s, for I would surely run him through for touching what was mine. Logan’s, for his betrayal. Mine, for the murder of my duke.