Thief of Hearts

by Ruby Moone

  David nodded. “People need to earn a living and sometimes they need experience to find a post.”

  Jeremy frowned. “So…you let people work for you to learn how to do a job?” Was that what he meant?

  David just looked at him. His eyes unreadable.

  Jeremy sighed. “I just want to be respectable. Make Elliot proud.”

  Jeremy thought David might say more, but he simply smiled a lopsided smile and ushered him along.

  They made their way upstairs and went around the upper floors until they came to the main bed chambers.

  “Here, this will be yours whilst you are here,” David said, and pushed open a door.

  Jeremy stared in open-mouthed joy. The room was large and airy, and filled with the most beautiful fabrics. Elegant shades of blues from darkest navy to shimmering, silvery turquoise. He touched the bed. It was huge and soft with white linens showing. He ran a hand over the pillows. The fabric was so clean and soft he couldn’t help but pick it up and hold it to his face. Then, conscious of what he had done, put it back with a rueful smile at David who was watching him. He went to the windows. They were long and majestic, allowing light to flood into the room and graced with the most beautiful long, blue fabric embroidered with gold.

  Jeremy stroked them gently. “Sorry. It’s just so…” He sighed. “Thank you.”

  David smiled. Mrs. Crawford will get the fires lit. It will take the chill off. He headed to another door. “Dressing room, he said, and there, beyond it, was a room just for washing and bathing. Jeremy was certain his mouth was hanging open.

  “Come. See this door here?” David pointed to yet another door in the opposite corner of the room and went to open it. They crossed through into another beautiful bedroom, this time in reds and golds. It was even more lavish. “This is my chamber.”

  Jeremy shot him a glance, but David’s eyes were unreadable. Connecting rooms. Did this mean that they would continue their association? Jeremy shivered at the thought but wondered about what kind of man that made him. He should be trying to find Elliot, trying to find another position, not cavorting with the thief who was responsible for having him turned off and humiliated.

  David was walking through into his chamber. Jeremy followed him on a sigh. A thief with high moral principles and views on slaves and work and…and options that made him feel hopeful about not only his future, but the future of the whole country. Why couldn’t the man just be a cad and then he could move on?

  Chapter 13

  David watched Jeremy polish off his baked apple, and eye the macaroons which had been placed to one side. His lover had a prodigious appetite. He ate with enthusiasm, joy, and a sense of exploration in exactly the same way he met everything in life, it seemed. There was an innocent pleasure in everything he engaged with that was singularly refreshing in a world where it was fashionable to be bored.

  His lover. David had to breathe steadily at the panic that feathered around the edges of his chest. It was only temporary. It could only be temporary. He had no business thinking it could be anything else. When they arrived in London he had every intention of installing Jeremy in his rooms on Piccadilly, where he usually took his personal business, but it had felt wrong. Not because the lad was a footman, but just…wrong. But now, here, having Jeremy in his home was clearly causing a stir. He could see the shock and surprise on the faces of everyone. He’d never brought anyone to the house. Ever.

  “Help yourself,” he said, nodding to the plate of macaroons.

  Jeremy grinned shyly. “I’ve eaten too much already. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

  “We could take tea in my study and eat them there?”

  Jeremy nodded.

  They settled into his study, sat in comfortable leather armchairs either side of the fire that burned brightly, and sipped tea. David would have preferred a good brandy, but Jeremy didn’t seem to indulge in alcohol much. He’d managed half a glass of wine with the meal, but that was all.

  “You can have something stronger if you like,” David said, just to be sure.

  Jeremy shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t really like the way alcohol makes me feel.”

  “How does it make you feel?”

  He thought for a moment. “Rather out of control. I get giddy and say things I wouldn’t normally say when I’ve been drinking and I’m afraid I will speak out of turn and give something away that I shouldn’t.”

  “Sensible,” David said. “Although, I must confess I would rather like to see you in your cups and saying things you shouldn’t.”

  Jeremy laughed. “One day we shall get as drunk as wheelbarrows in here where nobody can see.”

  David smiled. One day, he would definitely get him drunk and see what happened. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m drunk,” he said. “I’m a miserable bastard. Literally.”

  Jeremy seemed to hold his breath for a moment, and then laughed delightedly. It was surprisingly easy to make light of his past. It made David feel warm. Not a familiar feeling for him. He watched as he stopped laughing and then smiled at him with such affection that David’s chest hurt.

  “I’ve never had anyone I dared get drunk with before.”

  David’s chest tightened almost unbearably. He cleared his throat. “We should go to bed. You must be tired.”

  Jeremy dropped his gaze and nodded.

  * * * *

  David could hear Jeremy moving about in the adjoining bedchamber. Why in God’s name had he put him in there? He wanted to burst in, throw him on the bed, and indulge in the activities that had occupied his head ever since they had met. He wanted him in the silk gown again, wanted to…He rubbed the back of his neck. He wanted all those things but didn’t want to give him expectations of any kind. The arrangement could only ever be temporary.

  He hesitated for a moment, then with a brief knock, opened the adjoining door. Jeremy was standing by the bed wearing nothing but the colourful silk robe he had given him. His dark, curly hair was tousled, his feet were bare, and the belt was loosely tied, leaving an expanse of bare chest visible. The air in the room disappeared and David struggled to breathe.

  “Good evening.” Jeremy’s voice was soft, his gaze direct.

  Heart hammering, David closed the door, walked the short distance to where Jeremy stood and hesitated for a moment before reaching out a hand. He touched the skin of Jeremy’s collar bone and trailed his fingers down the gap in the robe. Jeremy’s breathing hitched.

  David wanted to give him fine words, beautiful words, but his head wouldn’t work. He let his hand fall to his side, swallowed, and waited.

  Jeremy’s answer was to take the belt of the robe in both hands, tug it gently, and allow the sides to part, displaying himself.

  David groaned, slid his arms inside the robe around Jeremy’s waist, and kissed him. Jeremy wrapped himself around him and kissed him back with a passion that always astonished him. So giving, so trusting.

  Jeremy pulled away, breathing heavily. “Clothes,” he whispered.

  David undressed, gratified at the heat in Jeremy’s eyes as he did so. When he stood before him naked, Jeremy parted the robe further and let it slide to the floor.

  “This is only temporary,” David whispered. He had to be honest.

  “I know.”

  There was nothing more to say. He pulled Jeremy by the hand and they climbed onto the bed. David watched as Jeremy squirmed against the clean linen but could wait no longer. They kissed long and hard, rubbing against each other, feeling every inch of bare skin and revelling in it. David pulled Jeremy over him, so he didn’t have to lie on the bruises and gasped when Jeremy took their cocks in one slim hand and tugged them together. His heart stuttered. Jeremy’s movements became ragged and tension made his whole body hard.

  “Coming…”

  David closed his eyes and let go and they convulsed together, hands clutching, mouths searching.

  Jeremy lay over him and David could feel his heart thund
ering in his body. He wanted to pull the coverlet over them and fall asleep that way. He closed his eyes. Jeremy raised himself up on one elbow and looked down at him. His eyes were warm and filled with something David wouldn’t put a name to. He dipped his head and dropped a soft kiss on David’s lips. Their lips clung for a moment, and forcibly reminded David why he had rules. He pushed gently at Jeremy and forced himself to get out of the bed. He cleaned up and offered a cloth to Jeremy, and whilst he tended to himself, David picked up his discarded clothes and took them back into his own room. He pulled on a robe and belted it tightly before going back to Jeremy. He was laying on the bed, naked.

  “Do you need anything?”

  Jeremy smiled sleepily and shook his head.

  “Then I’ll bid you good night.”

  “What?” Jeremy was up on one elbow.

  “Good night. Sleep well.” He turned on his heel and left before his resolve crumbled and he climbed back into the bed with him. And that would lead to nothing but madness.

  * * * *

  “You looking for me?” Spencer arrived at David’s elbow, making him jump. He’d been lost in thought, staring at the weak morning light out of the window in the study.

  He sighed. “I was. Thank you.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  David drew a breath and tried to bring his attention back to the job in hand. “Did you get rid of everything from the Fallows estate?”

  “All done. Just the pearls. You’ve still got those.”

  “They need to be disposed of carefully given the rumpus Lady Framling caused. I’d be inclined to go north.”

  Spencer nodded his agreement. “Maybe set off next week? I could take Bentley with me and let him see how things work?”

  “Excellent idea.” Bentley had been with them for almost a year and was shaping up to be an excellent businessman. Remarkable when he considered the broken, starving young man he’d rescued from the streets.

  “Anything else?”

  “Do you know anything about tailoring or dressmaking?”

  “Not personally, why?”

  “I’m thinking about Jeremy.”

  Spencer raised his eyebrows and looked thoughtful for a moment. “Aye, could look into it for you. Does he want tailoring or dressmaking?”

  “Both.”

  “Why not get Jo to teach him to start with and then look around?”

  David rubbed his chin. “That would be a good idea.”

  “High class?”

  “Of course.”

  “Leave it to me. I’ll chat to Bentley about it. He probably has contacts.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “By the way, Viscount Charnley left his card today. Again.”

  David shrugged. “Leave Charnley to me.” Whatever it was the man wanted, he was being damned persistent. Perhaps he would pay him a call just to see what he wanted, and to have the satisfaction of saying no.

  Spencer disappeared, leaving David to his thoughts. All the staff seemed as charmed by Jeremy as he was in the space of a day. It was distinctly unnerving.

  There was a tap on the door, and the object of his musings poked his head around the door.

  “Come in.”

  Jeremy blushed and closed the door behind him. “Thank you. I was wondering, if you are not too busy, if you would help me pen a letter to my brother?”

  “Of course.” David waved him towards the huge desk by the fireplace. He gestured for Jeremy to sit.

  He hung back, eying the chair nervously. “Ah…did you say…might you…”

  “Would you like me to write?”

  “Oh, yes please. My penmanship is shocking. I try so hard to get the writing correct that I can never think of a single thing to put down.”

  David settled into the chair, found a sheet of writing paper, and dipped the nib.

  “What would you like to say?”

  Jeremy frowned. “Well, I want to say…” He rubbed his neck. “How do I even begin to describe what happened?” He fidgeted. “My dear brother,” he began and then stopped.

  David smiled. “Perhaps you should say something along the lines of, ‘Brother, it is with the deepest regret that I write to inform you that I have been the subject of the most heinous, vile, and untrue accusations.’ Would that be a good start?”

  Jeremy’s face broke into a huge smile. “Oh yes. I knew you would have words.”

  David started writing, careful not to blot the page, the smell of the ink drifting gently about the room. After some discussion, they agreed on a suitably outraged tone and concluded. Once the letter was blotted and sealed, David got up and put it with his other correspondence, ready for posting.

  “There you are. All done. I will send it to the London address and if your brother is in the country they will have it transferred there, I’m sure.”

  Jeremy stood close by him and his smile would have melted ice. David’s chest ached with the need to bask in its warmth. It was entirely possible that Jeremy’s brother would be able to find him a position in Fane’s household and David was surprised at how little the notion pleased him.

  “Do you think he will believe me?”

  “I imagine so. He understands the world of the aristocracy from the other side of the fence. He knows what they are like.”

  Jeremy raised one hand and touched David’s cheek at the precise moment the door opened, and Mrs. Crawford came in. Jeremy yanked his hand back and leaped away from him, turning his back so Mrs. Crawford wouldn’t see the flush on his cheeks.

  “Beg pardon,” she said. “Will you be travelling with Spencer?”

  David shook his head. “No. Not this time. Bentley will go with him.”

  Mrs. Crawford nodded and glanced at Jeremy’s back. She smiled softly as she left.

  As the door clicked shut, Jeremy put his hands over his face. “I am so terribly sorry,” he whispered. “She must have seen.”

  “She did, but it really doesn’t matter.”

  Jeremy looked shocked. “Doesn’t matter? She saw me stroking your face.”

  David sighed. “In my house, everyone understands my preference is for men. It will come as no surprise that we are…close.”

  “Close?”

  “Close. Intimate.” David pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. “Jeremy, my entire life outside this place is a lie. I need to have somewhere where I can simply be myself. You will find many of the staff here have different preferences, but they are all good people. Here, we can simply be who we are. That includes you.”

  “They know we are…” Jeremy gestured vaguely.

  “Yes.”

  “And they don’t care?”

  “No.”

  “So, they would not be upset by my showing my affection?”

  David looked mildly affronted. “I would never indulge in displays of affection in front of anyone. But if, as now, someone should spot us accidentally, it would not be the end of the world.”

  Jeremy put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “That is…remarkable.”

  “I know.”

  “So, they wouldn’t be looking to make sure your bed was slept in?”

  David almost spluttered.

  * * * *

  After a week, with still no word from his brother, Jeremy slipped into David’s and everyone else’s lives with remarkable ease. David arranged for bolts of silks and other materials to be brought to the house, along with dressmaking equipment, and the reaction from Jeremy had been more emotional than if he had offered him the moon. He’d had a quick conversation with Jo Crawford about dressmaking and she had immediately taken him under her wing and now the two of them were thick as thieves, frequently to be found in the small parlour which seemed to have been set up as a temporary sewing room, repairing and darning and producing all manner of clothing for the staff. In fact, Jeremy fitted into the household neatly. Charming, eager to help, and with no expectation that he should be waited on, he threw himself into the household with gusto. They
had also settled into a routine at night where David went to his room and they indulged in increasingly intense bouts of sexual congress, but much to Jeremy’s disapproval, returned to his own bed to sleep. He recalled the previous evening when Jeremy had lain sprawled in the bed, hair madly awry with sleepy eyes and kiss plump lips. It had been hard to walk away.

  “Stay,” Jeremy whispered. Violet eyes warm.

  David shook his head. “Best not.”

  “But you said nobody cared. No-one would check to see if your bed was slept in.”

  “I know, but…”

  “I don’t see any buts.”

  David sighed and looked at the floor. “This is temporary. Soon, you will either hear from your brother, or we will find you a good position and you will be gone. Let’s not get too deep.”

  Jeremy’s eyes for once were unreadable. It was unusual, he was usually an open book. “What if…”

  “No what ifs. You need a respectable post. Remember? Something to make your brother proud. Taking up with me would offer you neither of those things.”

  Those expressive eyes widened and were shadowed by what looked like sadness of all things.

  “If I can help you find something you would rather do with your life, you can escape the drudgery of service, I will be happy. But the end result would be the same. You will move on.”

  “If I do find something, we could still be friends?”

  David examined the word. He couldn’t imagine being friends, but he smiled and nodded.

  * * * *

  David shook himself out of his reverie. Tonight, he had plans. It was about time that he lightened the mood, and Jeremy experienced a little of what London had to offer. He went in search of him in the small parlour, but it was deserted. Eventually he located him in the kitchen sitting with Mrs. Crawford at the big table, drinking tea and eating a plate of biscuits and discussing feathers, of all things. He hesitated in the doorway for a moment, and then quietly left them to it. He headed for the study and secured a packet of money in his safe until he could take it to the bank. The money from the liberation of the goods from the Fallows house. There was still the wretched Framling pearls to be disposed of. They sat like an albatross about his neck, waiting until Spencer could make the trip north. It made him uneasy.