by Ava March
“Do you have any plans for later this evening?” Anthony asked.
Half-past nine had come and gone. It wouldn’t take them much longer to reach Mayfair. Gabriel would be back at Sarah’s too-quiet house before ten, with only himself for company as she tended to retire early when she didn’t attend functions. Any attempts to fall asleep before midnight would be in vain. He’d learned that lesson months ago. If he tried to go to bed before he was exhausted, it would only result in a sleepless night, the guilt pressing heavier and heavier until it felt like a lead weight had been laid across his chest. The tables had denied him yet again last night, but surely luck would shine down on him if he paid another visit to Dennett’s. Or perhaps he should try a different hell. “No definitive plans.”
“Excellent. Care to take a walk with me?”
“Now?”
“Not at this exact moment. The carriage is moving, after all. I don’t relish the thought of jumping out and breaking a leg. Wouldn’t want you to break anything either.”
“Very considerate of you.”
“I try.” Anthony inclined his head. “I was thinking more along the lines of Hyde Park. Ever been there?”
“I’ve gone with Sarah a few times to drive about in the afternoons.”
“The fashionable hour.” Gabriel could hear the roll of Anthony’s eyes in his voice. “Boring and dull, with all that parading about. And the Park is much too crowded then to truly enjoy it. The best time to experience the Park is at night. Will you allow me to show you?”
A walk with Anthony under the night sky? He shouldn’t agree. “All right.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Anthony rapped on the ceiling. A narrow piece of wood above Gabriel’s place on the bench opposite Anthony slid open.
“Yes, my lord?” the driver asked.
“Hyde Park, please. You can stop on Park Lane near Oxford Street.”
The driver took a right at the next intersection and wound the carriage through Mayfair. The streets were quiet, but as Sarah had pointed out just the prior night on their way home from the musicale, that was due to the time of year. The social Season wouldn’t be in full swing again until April.
Anthony shifted on the bench, the springs creaking the faintest bit. Anthony’s knee bumped his.
Gabriel’s breath caught.
Thank heaven Gabriel had had the forethought to take the opposite bench. A drive to Mayfair with Anthony pressed up against him? The presence of the other theatre patrons had kept the need in check. Allowed him to soak up the strong bulk of Anthony’s body while keeping himself under control. Yet even then, every touch was like exquisite torture...because he wanted more.
And now? There was no one to cast glares of deepest disapproval. No one to remind him that it was best for him—and more importantly for Anthony—to keep his hands to himself. No one but him and Anthony alone together in a darkened carriage.
“Thank you for the evening at the theatre,” he blurted out.
“You’re welcome. Did you enjoy Drury Lane?”
“Very much so.” Because he had been with Anthony.
“See, London does have more to offer than staid drawing rooms and noisy streets. And maybe you might like it enough to remain after your sister’s husband returns to Town.”
“Perhaps.”
“Do you plan to immediately go back home once he returns?”
“I haven’t yet decided.” In truth, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He had needed to escape Derbyshire. So much so, he hadn’t given any consideration to what he would do once Neville Blackwell came back from his business travels.
The thought of returning to his house, all alone...
He somehow managed to suppress the wince.
Perhaps he could stay on in London. He could rent rooms somewhere or take a room at a hotel, though he would need to be mindful of his pocket if the tables didn’t start looking kindly on him soon. But if he stayed, what would he do in London? The only skill he possessed was managing a property.
The carriage slowed to a stop. A footman opened the door.
“Gentlemen first,” Anthony said.
“You’re a gentleman.”
“By the standards of some.” When Gabriel didn’t move, Anthony bumped him with his knee. “Just get out of the carriage.”
Stepping down onto the walkway, Gabriel obliged him. “But you’re a viscount.” Certainly that qualified Anthony to be a gentleman.
Anthony exited the carriage. “That will be all,” he said to his footman. The servant hopped on the boot, then with a flick of the driver’s wrist, the team of four trotted away. He took a step closer to Gabriel and lowered his voice. “I just wanted to watch you get out of the carriage.”
Why ever would—The image of a man exiting a carriage materialized in his mind. Shoulders hunched, arse tipped back to bend slightly at the waist. That nondescript man in his head transformed into Anthony. “Next time, you’re getting out of the carriage first.” Had he actually said that, and in a low, almost growling voice?
He swore he witnessed a shiver of anticipation briefly grip Anthony.
“Hum. Do you like to watch, Mr. Tilden?”
Pardon? Was Anthony asking what Gabriel thought he was asking? He had a strong suspicion their conversation had just taken a turn onto a very erotic path. “Do I like...?” The words stuck in his throat. He had no idea if he liked to watch in the sense Anthony was referring to. He’d never been in a situation that would allow it, save that one night with Anthony at the pond and they hadn’t done more than share a kiss.
“To watch,” Anthony supplied, filling the void. His mouth curved up at the edges in a sinful smile.
The moment stretched between them. Gabriel’s heart pounded against his ribs. A heavy thread of wicked want wound into his veins.
He very much wanted to watch Anthony. To have the man bare before him, cock standing stiff and hard and aching with the need for Gabriel’s touch.
Lust slammed into Gabriel.
Anthony slapped him on the shoulder. “Come along,” he said, as if he hadn’t just been putting indecent thoughts into Gabriel’s head. “We can’t very well see the Park from here.” He strode to a brick fence bordering the walkway and stopped before it. Had to be at least five and a half feet tall.
And then Anthony set his hands on top of the brick fence, as if he was intent on scaling it.
Gabriel opened his mouth, yet caught the name before it could leave his lips. For a brief moment, he was stuck in indecision. Calling him Rawling felt off. When last he’d seen him, Anthony had been Hawkins. Yet calling him Anthony felt too personal. Dangerously personal. “Rawling, wait. What are you doing?” He cast a quick glance up and down the street. Thankfully it was empty.
“Going into the Park.”
“Why can’t we just go in the main gates?”
“Because where’s the fun in that?” Of course, that would be Anthony’s answer. The man pursued fun with wholehearted abandon. “And the best part of the Park is near here.”
“But...”
“Don’t be a stodgy old codger.” Anthony looked over his shoulder to Gabriel. “Be brave.”
He had allowed himself to be brave once—to be bold—and it had ultimately cost him Anthony.
Without further ado, Anthony pulled himself up and slung one leg over the fence, straddling it. The effortless ease with which he’d scaled the fence demonstrated tonight wasn’t his first time accomplishing the feat.
Who else had Anthony taken to Hyde Park at night?
“You look quite comfortable up there. Is this one of your regular evening activities?”
Anthony’s gaze swept over Gabriel’s face. “Careful, or you might lead me to believe you have a jealous streak.” He laughed, a low
rumble, as if the notion amused him. “Now, come along before someone sees us.” He reached down a hand to Gabriel. “And the answer is no, Gabriel. I haven’t climbed this wall in almost five years.”
Gabriel. It wasn’t Anthony’s denial, but his name from Anthony’s lips that pacified the worry.
Reaching up, he clasped Anthony’s bare hand with his left, then he placed his right on the fence a couple of feet from where Anthony sat. “Why did you climb it then?”
“I was out and about and decided to take a walk in the Park, and this spot was closer. Easier to climb than to go around to the main entrance.”
Gabriel wasn’t one for reckless activities, but in the grand scheme of things, scaling a wall to enter a park wasn’t all that reckless. There was no risk they’d get dragged to a station house. If nothing else, Anthony’s title alone would earn them an apology from anyone who thought to chastise them.
Well, frequenting Cheapside could be considered reckless. But it wasn’t as if he was gambling away all his money. And from what he had heard, most everyone in London gambled. It was an acceptable pastime.
“I’ll help pull you up on three. Not after three, but on three.”
Gabriel gave a nod. “I bet you climbed a lot of trees in your youth.”
“A fair share.”
“And climbed out of a lot of windows.”
Anthony blinked, then he chuckled, as if just placing the memory. “Yes, those too.”
“Whereas I was never much of a climber.” He’d walked and he’d ridden and he had gone hunting on occasion, but tagging after other boys or his brothers and climbing trees or through open windows? He’d never felt welcome enough to join in their games.
“No worries. It’s easy. I’ll help too. And you should hold my wrist, not my hand.” Anthony loosened his grip enough to slide his hand down to clasp Gabriel’s wrist. “Like that. Provides a better hold.”
Gabriel nodded again and did as instructed again.
“Ready? One, two...”
And on “three,” Gabriel hoisted himself up, while Anthony provided a considerable amount of assistance.
Damnation, Anthony was strong.
“Well done. Now we jump down.” Releasing Gabriel’s wrist, Anthony swung his leg over to join the other, then jumped, landing squarely on his feet.
There was nothing to be done at this point but continue following Anthony’s lead. Though Gabriel didn’t land quite so neatly. He stumbled a step, but did manage not to fall to his knees.
“This way,” Anthony said, with a motion of his head, as he set off at an ambling walk. “My favorite spot is toward the back.”
A few long strides had him at Anthony’s shoulder. They passed through four neat rows of trees and then a great expanse of moonlit grass stretched out before them. There wasn’t another soul to be seen. The quiet of the park surrounded him. The noises of London gone, as if they weren’t even in the City.
“Have you run into any old friends from Eton while in London?” Anthony asked.
“A couple.” He’d had more acquaintances than true friends at school. “I saw Bramm Foster on Bond Street while taking Sarah to some shops, and Richard Bourne was at a small dinner party I escorted Sarah to the other day. Are you acquainted with them?”
“I know them. Foster’s a good sort, though Bourne’s become a bit of a prat. He thinks too highly of himself,” Anthony added. “How is Pearce doing these days? Is he still residing in Wiltshire?”
“Yes.” He hadn’t seen Pearce since the funeral, though they did write to each other on occasion. “And he is doing well. He’s working for a solicitor. Hopes to learn enough to one day open his own office.”
“Will he move to London to open an office?”
“I doubt it. He likes the countryside. When the time comes, he’ll probably find a decent-sized village in need of a solicitor and set up shop there.”
“And do you like the countryside?”
“Yes.” Or at least he had, up until six months ago.
“I heard you have a house up in Derbyshire. Do you have property, as well?”
Gabriel nodded. “It’s mostly set to farming, though I also have about thirty-five acres of timber in total and pastures for the dairy cows, hogs and plow horses. When I first moved to the property, the land wasn’t yielding what it should. Derbyshire isn’t ideal for farming—all the small hills and such—but even then, the land wasn’t being managed properly. The prior owner hadn’t been rotating crops correctly, and there were sections not being used at all. It took a few years, but I got the land set to rights and it’s now producing a decent yield considering the region.”
His land had been the one good thing to come from his marriage. To have fields he could call his own, to be able to walk about on a summer morning amidst acres of barley waving in the breeze and know he was responsible for it. Those fields had given him a purpose, and a sense of peace he had never found elsewhere.
“Do you spend much time at Hawkins Hall?” Gabriel asked. Since Anthony had inherited, his family’s property in Somerset now belonged to him.
“Not much. See those trees off to the left?” Anthony nudged him with his elbow. “The Ring is on the other side of them.”
Gabriel glanced to his left, but the moonlight gilding the tops of the trees in the distance didn’t hold his attention. Anthony had his head turned away from him. The silhouette of the curl of hair above his ear made Gabriel’s fingers itch to trace it.
He stood corrected. His fields weren’t the only place he’d ever felt at peace.
Even with the need to touch, the need for more, battling against the will to do right by Anthony, that sense of peace was still there. Had always been there when he was with Anthony.
No, peace wasn’t quite the correct word. He felt at home with Anthony.
Anthony turned his attention from the trees and looked to Gabriel. A little smile touched his lips.
Bare fingertips brushed the back of Gabriel’s hand hanging at his side.
Gabriel’s pulse quickened.
“How is your family these days?” Gabriel asked. “Your mother and sister appeared in good health when I saw them at the musicale.”
Anthony blinked. “My family is doing well. Penelope’s on the marriage mart. Will be going on her third year this spring. She’s proving particular, but I’d rather her wait for love than accept any old fellow. My mother enjoys life in London, and Simon will return to Oxford for Michaelmas term. Or at least I hope I’ve convinced him to return. Had a discussion with him this morning about it.” Anthony shook his head. “Perhaps he should have gone to Eton. But he’s a quiet sort and didn’t want to attend, so my father agreed to put him under private tuition. But he finished with Mr. Hartgrove the prior year and he needs to continue to attend university now. I’m hoping if he gives Oxford more of a chance, he’ll become comfortable there.”
“What are his interests?”
“He likes books.”
“There should certainly be a plethora of them at a university.”
“The problem is, there are also people there. A lot of them. And he much prefers books to the company of others.”
“Then perhaps Oxford isn’t the right path for him. Not all men attend university. Neither of us did,” Gabriel pointed out.
“But a university will provide him with a solid education and the opportunity to form connections that will someday be useful to him. As I will never marry, the Rawling title will eventually pass to him and I want him equipped to manage it.”
“You plan to never marry?”
“I prefer men, Gabriel,” Anthony said, as if the explanation was beyond obvious. “I won’t find love with a woman.”
“But what about securing the title?”
“It can pass on to Simon and still stay
within the family.”
“But...won’t Society wonder why you are remaining a bachelor?”
“Not every man marries. Some don’t, and there are a few with titles who haven’t. I’m not about to allow the opinions of others to push me into a loveless marriage.”
Whereas Gabriel had allowed his own fears to push him to that. It made him feel small and weak, unworthy of calling himself a man. At least he had asked for Charlotte’s hand and hadn’t left her with a ruined reputation. But even that had had a selfish component—those who served up betrayal didn’t deserve happiness.
“In any case,” Anthony continued, “it will be years before anyone questions my outwardly single state, and by then, perhaps I’ll move out of London. Though there will likely come a day when I’ll need to give my mother some sort of explanation. But maybe I can nudge around the truth without boldly admitting it, and maybe she’d understand, in a way. While she wants her children to have happy marriages, she ultimately wants us to find love like she found with my father. If I explain that I can’t find love in marriage, perhaps she could better accept why I choose to remain unmarried.”
Gabriel could only marvel at Anthony’s strength. How he wished he could be as secure in himself and his desires, with no guilt hanging over his head.
They picked up a path that took them over a stream, the bubble and play of the water loud in the quiet of the Park.
“Are we going to the Serpentine?” Gabriel asked.
“No. It runs through Kensington Gardens at this side of the Park. Why? Are you of a mind to go for a swim?”
