Randall's Romance (Behind Closed Doors)

by Lee Brazil

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Lee Brazil

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-392-7

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JS Cook

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This story is dedicated to Raven McAllan. I was leery when she suggested we work together, but it was a fabulous experience and we had a blast plotting out the characters and the sequence of events. I'm looking forward to our association continuing through subsequent books and who knows? Maybe a spinoff series!

  RANDALL’S ROMANCE

  Behind Closed Doors, 1

  Lee Brazil

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  The rumblings and grumblings of his offspring on the other side of the heavy mahogany door grew louder and Gerard knew he couldn't delay the meeting any longer. Glancing over at his secretary, Martin Nelson, he asked, "Are they all here?"

  The man tilted his head to the side as though assessing the sounds outside the locked study door. Cecily's pert voice was easily discernible as she bantered with her brothers. "Miss Cecily is there, and if she's giggling it's a certainty that Mr. Randall is teasing her. I saw Mr. Harold with his nose buried in a book in the library, so he's present, Peregrine wouldn't miss a scheduled meeting if the Regent himself attempted to hold him up, and as for that youngest lad of yours, those are his dogs baying and where he goes, they go. I'd say they're all present."

  Steepling his hands together, Gerard eyed the papers on his desk. Was he doing the right thing? "You will stay on and assist Peregrine? Make sure the others have all they need?"

  "I am your employee My Lord, until such time as you terminate my employment. I will do my utmost to follow your instructions."

  Nodding, Gerard sighed. It was time. "I did my duty. I married, I had children."

  Nelson's chuckle interrupted him. He quirked an inquiring brow in his secretary's direction. "You find my plight amusing?"

  "No, not at all. It's your children. You say it so prosaically, as though they were not... Well, you know your children as well as I do!"

  Gerard regarded the fond smile on his long-time friend and employee's face. Martin Nelson had been with him since before his marriage to Penelope, since his father's death when he'd realized just how disastrous the old man's spendthrift habits had been to the family fortunes. When he'd married his heiress bride only to discover her father had hoodwinked him, Martin had stood by him, gone without his own salary, and worked. Side by side, they rebuilt the Brigstock family coffers, paid off debts and left the precise and correct Penelope to worry about reclaiming the family position in society. "We've worked hard, we deserve our reward. When I have found him, when you decide Perry can handle the situation on his own—"

  "You mean when he's learned not to act like such a lordly prick toward his brothers and sister?" Amusement softened Martin's words.

  Gerard nodded again, hiding his smile at his oldest friend's assessment of his eldest son's character. "Even as you say. When it's all sorted out, you'll hire your successor and come join us?'

  Nelson rose from behind his smaller desk. "If things work out, I may join you. If...your friend's situation is as it was when last you met him."

  Gerard understood Nelson's meaning clearly. The secretary had spent years putting his best effort into furthering Gerard's causes, but he had his own interests to pursue as well. At this point, neither of them could tell if their courses would continue in the same traces. "Well, let them in then, we'll neither of us discover our futures until it's all set in play."

  Nelson didn't hesitate. The children's voices rose as he pulled the heavy door open, then fell into silence. Nelson slipped out as the tide of Gretton children trooped into the room, five handsome children with dark hair and piercing blue eyes, aristocratic noses, and the characteristic Gretton ear lobes. Gerard sighed. He'd done his best to establish each of his progeny on a path that suited his temperament, but the thought of leaving them to their own devices for the indefinite future didn't quite rest easily.

  "Please, be seated." He held up a hand to forestall the explosion of sound. "I have a matter of grave importance to discuss with you. I regret summoning you all in such a pompous manner, but it seemed prudent to speak to you all at once."

  He paused to look around the circle of chairs. Perry sat stiffly, lips compressed in a thin line. Next to him sat Randall, perfectly at his ease in his scarlet uniform, knees crossed, tasseled Hessians gleaming, eyes twinkling. Harold sat next to his brother, and from the dreamy expression in his eyes, he was either contemplating some scholarly inanity, or dreaming up some bit of mischief. Cecily was perched on the very edge of her chair, toe tapping impatiently as she twisted a handkerchief to shreds in her lap.

  Cecily. He had somehow failed in his duty with her. Girls her age should have been long since married and providing heirs for their husbands, but Cecily hadn't taken, as it were, and though she was quite popular, had inexplicably not received any acceptable proposals. You did your best, he reminded himself. Seven seasons, a tour of the continent, visits to Brighton and Bath and house parties innumerable. In another year, the girl would be twenty-five and she could take up residence in the house her mother had left her in Tunbridge Wells. He'd provided the same allowance for Cecily as he had his sons in order to cover just such an eventuality.

  His attention was drawn from his musings about his only daughter's fate as a spinster when a minor scuffle ensued between his youngest son, Nash and Cecily that apparently involved some kicking and flying elbows. "Children!" He scolded. Nash was such a scamp, always getting into mischief of one kind or another. "This is serious business. Save your bickering for later."

  "Perhaps, Father, if you would..." Perry paused meaningfully.

  "Yes. Of course. I'm leaving." He announced baldly and waited for responses.

  They exchanged bewildered glances. Again, it was Peregrine who broke the silence. "Would you like us to accompany you to the country, father? It isn't exactly convenient right now."

  Gerard waved him impatiently to silence. "No. I'm leaving the country. I've some old friends I want to look up, and many places I've never been. I sent each of you on a Grand Tour, but when I was of the age for it, my family hadn't the funds to send me. Now, everything here is in order, and you all, well. You don't need me. Each of you is independent, and none of you wants me interfering in your lives. So, I'm going to travel, look for my friend, and enjoy myself. I've stayed this past eighteen months to see out your mother's morning period, but the time has come. I've been lonely." He brushed away any protestations. "Not alone, lonely. I have known what it was to love, and I miss that bond between two people very deeply."

  He cast a glance over each stunned face in turn. "Cat got your tongues, eh? I've done my duty by this family since I was nineteen. I'm turning fifty soon, and I think it's my turn to enjoy life. Perry, I'm leaving you power of attorney to run the estates."

  He forestalled Perry's moment of triumph by continuing. "Under the direction of Nelson. He has my authority to naysay anything too outrageous. The rest of you, I've set up your allowances to be paid quarterly. If there is a problem, you may direct correspondence
to me through Nelson, but I advise you to do your best to live within your means, because neither he nor Perry will be able to bail you out if you take a swim in River Tick. That's all. You may go now."

  He held his breath as they rose, pretended to study the papers on his desk. It was too much to hope that the lot of them would just troop on out and let him get on with finding Jonathon.

  "When?"

  "Pardon?" He glanced up at Nash, his youngest child, the jack-a-napes who courted scandal assiduously in the tradition of younger sons everywhere.

  "When are you going?" Was that regret or sorrow in the boy's eyes?

  "In the morning." Good boy, that Nash. High spirited as hell, but a heart of gold.

  "And when will you return?" Harold piped in, focusing his gaze on his father for the first time since entering the room.

  Gerard hadn't been at all certain that his dreamer son had even understood that he was leaving. "I'm not certain. It depends on whether I find my friend, and once I find him, whether I can convince him to return with me." He caught Randall's startled look of cognition. "Yes." He knew Randall understood the significance of his words. "Yes, exactly, Randall. I had no choice you understand, as I had no brothers to take my place. You're fortunate in that Perry and Nash are so eager to propagate the family name. I offer you all just one last bit of fatherly advice, though I am aware you will most likely ignore it. If you are so fortunate as to find love, then seize it."

  "I wish you every success on your journey then, father." Randall bowed deeply and followed his younger brother from the room.

  Cecily crossed the room and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He patted her head briefly. "Now then, my girl. No need for you to be concerned. I've set things up for you. You'll have your pin money as always, and the use of any of the houses. Perry will look after you. I don't suppose you've found a husband yet?" He teased his only daughter.

  "I'm afraid I'm not actually looking. You know, I'm quite old enough to look after myself." The apple of his eye cast a disparaging glance at her elder sibling. "Perry needn't trouble himself."

  "It's done. There's no need to argue the point, puss. Perry will look out for you until you turn twenty-five, and then you'll have all the joy of looking out for yourself you could wish. A year isn't so long to wait. And Perry," He frowned sternly at his eldest boy. "Will not be a trial to you, will you my boy?"

  Perry grunted non-committally and Gerard sighed again. "Go on. I've a lot of packing to do. And you...Yes, it is necessary to leave Nelson to help you. You've a damned supercilious attitude and frankly, I'm rather concerned that you'd run roughshod over your siblings if I left it entirely up to you.

  Oh, I know you wouldn't abuse them, but they aren't a stack of blank canvasses to be repainted in your image, either."

  "But..."

  "But nothing, Peregrine. They are high spirited and lively, and that's the way we love them. Help them, support them, and if they are in true danger, rescue them, but otherwise let them live their lives. I intend to at last live mine, and you, my serious son, I highly suggest you live yours."

  Chapter One

  A black clad highwayman stood at the punch table filling a crystal cup with the insipid beverage Mortimer's equally insipid wife preferred. Another seductive thief of the open road lounged in the open French doors leading out to the gardens trading flirtatious remarks with a bevy of gaudily and scantily clad misses. From the looks of their clinging garments they'd adopted the habit of fast young women everywhere and dampened their petticoats in the hopes of luring just the sort of attention they were receiving. A third masked bandit languished on the dance floor in the arms of a rather macabre Lady Macbeth. Several others were scattered about the somewhat shabby ballroom of Randall's old school chum Mortimer Gravesend. The room was intentionally ill lit, creating shadowy alcoves where couples could be intimate, but even such an alcove would not serve his purpose. The lover he'd come to meet, the liaison he wished to further, required more discretion than that of a bored society wife and a rake of the ton.

  The company wasn't of the best, not the haute ton, but neither was it beneath contempt. Risqué behavior at a masquerade was nothing new, but outright propositioning an unknown man would still be beyond the pale. It might even get him killed. Randall cursed silently. Blast it all, Terence! He had no way at all of telling which of the damned highwaymen was his lover, and a case of mistaken identity in this case would be disastrous.

  When Terence Wooster had suggested meeting up here, it had sounded so simple, so illicitly sexy. Randall could easily admit that he'd been excited by the prospect of a sensual encounter in a semi-public venue. But that was before he'd recognized his prissy older brother amongst the crowd of partygoers.

  Now, unless he could locate Terence and pry the dandy out of their old school mate's den of inequity, he'd be disappointed in his quest for sexual satisfaction. Failing to satisfy his body's needs tonight would mean a long dry spell with only his hand and his oriental curiosities. He had to leave the next day for Devon on an operation to catch a new smuggling ring that had apparently sprung up overnight, and he'd wanted to meet up with a like-minded individual, as god knew how long it would be before he could get a good fuck in if he didn't.

  Terence had said he'd be here, dressed as a highwayman. So Randall had sent his valet away and dug into the depths of his wardrobe for a costume that he'd seldom worn and no one would connect with him. He donned his Robin Hood disguise, and in an hour entered a society ballroom on his last night in London for God knew how long, because Terence was a sure thing with a talented mouth and ...God damn it! Just thinking of the things the man could do for him aroused his lust. He adjusted his prick in the tight fitting green hosiery. Fortunately a masquerade was a great deal more licentious than most of the ton's entertainments. Risqué behavior was the norm, and most of the high sticklers wouldn't set foot inside an event like this. The debutantes were safely locked away at Almack's sipping tepid lemonade and circling the ballroom in inane patterns while attempting to charm some hapless youth into giving up his independence in exchange for posterity and progeny.

  Frowning, Randall stiffened. Across the room a highly flirtatious couple had dipped a bit too raucously and a golden domino had fallen aside just enough that he swore. "It couldn't be! That little minx." Setting down the now empty glass he'd scooped off a passing waiter's tray, he made his way across the room.

  Catching the woman's shoulder, he spun her about in the dance, "May I cut in?"

  The lithesome young woman's gasp gave the game away. "Randall?"

  Taking her in his arms, he twirled her about so that she faced away from where he'd last seen Perry at the buffet table. "Cecily, you must go home at once!" He let his gaze wander about the crowd. "Perry is here, and if he catches wind of your presence, there will be hell to pay!"

  "Perry?" Blue eyes widened in dismay behind the gold domino. "Blast the man! How did we come to have such a prudish brother, Randall? I promise you the man will drive me mad before the year is out!"

  "Who brought you here?" He maneuvered his younger sibling carefully toward the nearest exit.

  "Would it be too much for you to believe if I said that I'd come alone?"

  "Yes, rather. Never mind. I've got it." He pushed her ahead of himself out into the marble foyer, and flagged a passing liveried footman. "Have my carriage brought around." He ordered curtly.

  "How will you get home?" The gratitude in Cecily's voice was clear.

  Resigned, Randall grimaced. "If I can't find the fellow I came here to meet, then I'll catch a ride back with Perry, of course."

  "You're such a dear to sacrifice yourself on my behalf! Are you meeting a highwayman, by any chance?" His sister asked, staring over his shoulder into the recesses of the house.

  "Yes, how did you know?" He glanced back into the foyer in time to see the door to Mortimer's seldom used library close opposite the ballroom they had just exited.

  "He was staring at you rather intently." />
  "Was he then?" Spirits uplifted immeasurably, Randall handed his sister off to the carriage with a kiss on her cheek and an order to be more careful, and slipped off to the door he'd seen closing moments earlier.

  He closed the door behind himself and turned the key in the lock. The book room was lit by a single porcelain candelabrum on the mantelpiece. In the flickering candlelight he located Terence at the fireplace, swirling a snifter of brandy in his hand. Terence turned his head, tensing at the sound of the key turning in the lock.

  "Never fear. It's just me. I'd about given up hope of finding you; there are so very many highwaymen present tonight. Next time you must choose a more singular disguise." Checking the room carefully for any other entrance, Randall realized Terence had chosen the perfect place for their encounter.

  The highwayman glanced back at him, dark eyes glittering through the slits of his long mask. "I'd hate to draw attention." Hi voice was muffled by the mask, but Randall caught the faint foreign accent he aped and rolled his eyes.

  Randall felt his blood heat as that hooded gaze traveled down his form. His cock stirred and this time he made no move to hide his interest. "Truth, Terence, attention is to be avoided, but there is something to be said for ease of recognition in these circumstances."

  He crossed the Aubusson carpet to stand in front of his lover, drew the man to him. Terence came willingly enough into his embrace, but when Randall tried to raise the man's domino to reveal his features, Terence caught his hand in a gloved grip. "No. Just in case, we must be discreet."

  "I did lock the door, you know." Randall buried his face in the fabric and tightened his arms, crushing Terence along his length. The man's costume was a miracle of tailoring, for he seemed to have even added padding to his narrow shoulders and lifts to his boots.