Mr Winterbourne's Christmas

by Joanna Chambers

  The earl looked up, meeting Lysander’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, but it was obvious Lysander was right. He could just imagine how his father had envisaged the scene playing out, handing over the money Adam demanded from him with negligent ease. Trying to restore his lost aristocratic pride. Perhaps telling him that he didn’t need his money anymore—yes, that would appeal to his father.

  “So, what now?” Adam said, his tone ice-cold. “The loan is still to be paid and the works haven’t been done. The west tower of the Abbey clearly isn’t safe, and your workers’ cottages are in a pitiful state. And besides all of that, you’ve clearly been spending money quite as carelessly as ever. What do you propose to do to resolve this, Lord Winterbourne?”

  The earl’s face flushed with temper, but instead of answering Adam, he turned to Lysander. “I meant what I said at dinner. I really do want you to come and work here on the estate. Holmes will teach you everything you could possibly need to know about estate management—just as you wanted. And you can do the one thing Holmes can’t: stand up to me.” He closed his eyes, his expression pained. “I know I need to rein in my spending. You can help me with that, Lysander. And—”

  “And?” Lysander prompted.

  The earl opened his eyes again, looking to Adam this time. “And you may not trust me, but you trust Lysander. He’s worked for you—you know if he says the works will be done, they’ll be done.”

  “I see,” Adam said. “And once the works are done, I’m to forgive the loan, am I? As I said I would at the outset, despite you having breached our agreement.”

  The earl’s expression was all suppressed fury, but he nodded stiffly.

  “You have some peculiar notions of honour, Lord Winterbourne,” Adam continued coldly. “You’d rather die than leave a wager unpaid—a foolish wager you had no business placing in your financial state—but you think nothing of leaving your tenants languishing in mean, filthy accommodations, or of breaking your contractual obligations to me, a man who has already cleared your debts once already.”

  The earl bit out, “I wouldn’t expect you to understand how a gentleman conducts him—”

  “How dare you?” Lysander leapt to his feet so suddenly, his chair tumbled to the ground behind him, landing with an almighty crash, and his father reared back in his own chair, shocked into silence.

  “How dare you speak to him like that!” Lysander exclaimed, leaning over the desk to glare at his father. “He’s ten times the man you’ll ever be. All you’ve ever done is bleed this estate dry with your reckless, spendthrift ways. You’re nothing but a—”

  “Lysander,” a hand tugged at his coat, urging him back to his seat.

  Lysander turned away from the white-faced earl to face the man he loved.

  Adam was smiling sadly at him. “Thank you, but it’s all right. Sit down and let’s see if we can’t resolve this.”

  Lysander sighed and did as he was bid. “How is it to be resolved?” he asked, eyeing Adam.

  Adam’s sherry-brown gaze was steady and oddly bleak. “You father’s plan isn’t so terrible,” he said. “You could have your dream, Lysander. You could come home to Winterbourne and run the estate. And he’s right that I’d trust you to get the works done, even if it takes longer to finish them than was originally planned.”

  Lysander’s chest hurt, the pain so sharp it felt as though it had been pierced with a blade. Did he really mean so little to Adam, that Adam could pack him off and forget about him?

  No sooner had that bitter thought occurred to him, than he rejected it.

  No. That wasn’t fair. Adam was the very best man he knew.

  And in that instant, Lysander remembered that moment on the terrace earlier, Adam’s expression, both sweet and sad.

  I was just thinking...how very much I love you.

  The same expression on his face now.

  You could have your dream, Lysander.

  Lysander met Adam’s gaze and said quietly but firmly, “That’s all very well, but the trouble is...Winterbourne’s not my home anymore.”

  Adam stilled, his expression almost comically surprised.

  Lysander turned to his father without waiting for Adam to respond. “I’m afraid I don’t want to run Winterbourne anymore, Father. I’ve”—he smiled helplessly—“well, I suppose I’ve grown to love Edgeley Park now and it’s too soon to leave. We’ve only just begun to turn it around. And like you say, you already have Mr. Holmes. He knows this estate inside out. If you need someone else to control the purse strings, that’s easily done without me coming back.”

  “But Lysander—” The earl’s expression was dismayed.

  “He’s right,” Adam said, rallying now, his voice growing firm and certain. “There are other ways to deal with this. Lysander and I will sit down with Mr. Holmes before we leave. We’ll go through the estate books, cost the works and come up with an arrangement that will work. Something that will keep the estate income out of your hands and ensure it’s spent where it’s needed. I’ll have my solicitor draw up the necessary deeds to record matters properly.”

  The earl just stared at them both, plainly dismayed.

  “Well?” Lysander urged, and finally, the earl nodded stiffly.

  “Very well.”

  “Good, that’s settled,” Adam looked at Lysander, then rose from his chair. “I’ll say goodnight then.”

  He was giving Lysander an opportunity to speak with his father in private, but Lysander had no wish to continue the conversation. He’d said everything he wanted to say. And from the look of him, so had the earl.

  Rising from his own chair, he stood beside Adam. “Goodnight, Father.”

  Lord Winterbourne managed a nod, and they took their leave.

  FOR ONCE, THE WEST wing corridor was deserted. Lysander took his chance, seizing Adam’s hand and towing him down the length of it to his own bedchamber. After one last surreptitious glance around, he opened the door and tugged Adam inside, closing and locking it behind them.

  He’d scarcely turned back to Adam before the man was pulling him into his arms and crushing their lips together in hot, urgent kiss.

  “It feels like weeks since I touched you,” Adam gasped against Lysander’s mouth, shoving his coat from his shoulders then ripping his cravat away and tossing it aside.

  Lysander laughed softly at Adam’s helpless urgency, happiness bubbling inside him as his own hands worked equally busily at removing Adam’s clothes.

  They tumbled onto Lysander’s bed in a tangle of naked limbs, kissing all the while. One of the servants had lit the fire earlier, and the dim glow it gave off was just enough for Lysander to see his lover by.

  “I want you to fuck me tonight,” Adam whispered when they broke apart, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. Lysander gave a helpless groan. Adam rarely asked for that—as a rule, they both tended to gravitate to the opposite roles—but on the occasions when they did it this way, it was always very, very good.

  But then, everything was good, with Adam.

  There was no hurry, so they took their sweet time, sucking each other’s cocks for long minutes in delicious counterpoint, kissing, biting, and teasing one another. By the time they were ready to fuck, Lysander could hardly see straight. He slid his oiled fingers in and out of Adam’s body, watching as his lover gasped and moaned, and finally, begged.

  “Please. Fuck me now.”

  God, yes.

  Lysander pushed his cock inside Adam, slow and steady, groaning at the tight clutch of his lover’s body. Adam was panting, his own cock red and hard and dripping between them.

  “Lysander. Christ.”

  Out and in again. And again, and again. It began as a slow, careful pistoning but quickly built up speed as Adam gasped encouragement and canted his hips, welcoming each slamming thrust.

  Lysander clutched the backs of Adam’s thighs, holding him wide and open as he fucked him, watching Adam give up everything to him—all his pride and his control. Adam rarely submitted
to Lysander like this, but when he did, he did so fully and completely, and it filled Lysander with awe every time. Awe and gratitude and yes, downright lust.

  Lysander bent down to kiss Adam, crushing their mouths together and simultaneously rubbing his lean stomach against the man’s hard, leaking cock. And that did it—moments later, Adam was coming between them in warm pulses, and Lysander was following an instant later, their cries of pleasure stifled by their shared kiss.

  LATER, LYSANDER TURNED his head on the pillow to meet Adam’s gaze. The fire had reduced to little more than embers, but his eyes were used to the dark now, and he could see his lover’s face reasonably well. Could see that Adam’s eyes were warm, full of trust and love.

  “You said you loved me,” Lysander whispered. “When we were on the terrace.”

  Adam quirked a smile. “I do love you.”

  “I didn’t know you felt that way,” Lysander said hoarsely. “Did you?”

  Adam frowned. “Did I what?”

  Lysander swallowed. “Know that I feel the same way? That I’m in love with you.”

  “Are you?” Adam’s face lit up and it made Lysander feel joyful and sad all at the same time—joyful that this made Adam so happy and sad that he’d withheld that joy from him, because of his own cowardice.

  “I am,” Lysander said urgently. “I should have told you so, but I was afraid. When we first met, you needed a steward and it was helpful to have an excuse to spend so much time together. But after a while, I began to wonder whether it was really me that you wanted, or if it was just a—a convenient arrangement.”

  Adam’s eyes were soft, his smile warm. He lifted a hand to gently brush back a lock of hair from Lysander’s forehead, an affectionate gesture Lysander had grown used to.

  “I was afraid too,” Adam admitted. “I fell in love so quickly and it was terrifying, feeling so much, so soon—more than I’d ever felt for another person. And then—well, I had the same worry as you, really, not knowing what was more important to you: me or Edgeley Park.”

  “That’s the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.” Lysander said, scowling at the idea that Adam could think his position meant more to him than Adam.

  “No less idiotic than what you were thinking,” Adam replied, grinning.

  Lysander groaned, remembering. “Oh, you have no idea just how idiotic my thoughts were at times.”

  Adam inched closer, his grin deepening as he urged, “Tell me.”

  “I began to wonder whether”—he felt his cheeks warm—“you had a harem of other lovers you visited when you were away from home.”

  “What?” Adam gave a bark of astonished laughter. “You didn’t seriously think that?”

  Lysander laughed shakily, more relieved by that reaction than he cared to admit. “Not really. Well—maybe once or twice, in my more absurd moments. It’s Jonny’s fault for putting the idea in my head.”

  “He told you I had a harem?” Adam looked equal parts astonished and furious.

  Lysander laughed softly. “No, he just said you had one before we met. But once he’d planted the thought in my head, my imagination got the better of me.”

  Adam relaxed. “You idiot,” he said fondly. “As though I could want anyone else when I have you.”

  “Ah, so you don’t deny you had a harem at one time,” Lysander teased.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t call it a harem precisely,” Adam said with a wicked grin. “Just a few very good friends.” He moved in closer, till his hard body was flush against Lysander’s, rolling them both so that he was on top, Lysander flushed and laughing below him.

  “Do you have stories?” Lysander asked, canting up his hips, making Adam groan as their cocks brushed. “Will you tell me them?”

  Adam dipped his head, till their lips just barely touched. “How about I show you?”

  Lysander gave a happy sigh. “That would be very agreeable.”

  Epilogue - Adam

  Edgeley Park, Buckinghamshire

  “Are you quite sure Lysander won’t mind me visiting again so soon?” Jonny said.

  “Hmm?” Adam glanced up from his newspaper. Jonny sat on the opposite bench of the carriage, tapping his fingers nervously against his left knee, which was itself jiggling up and down. The man had far too much nervous energy, and right now he looked thin and tired, dark circles shadowing his eyes. Which was why Adam had insisted he come back to Edgeley Park with him. A few weeks in the country would do Jonny the power of good.

  “I don’t know how you can read a newspaper in a moving carriage,” Jonny said, without waiting for an answer to his first question. “I’d be quite nauseous.”

  “I daresay that’s why you’ve talked nonstop since we left the last coaching inn,” Adam said drily. He had ridden most of the way from London, letting Jonny have the carriage to himself but had relented on this last leg when Jonny complained of being lonely.

  “Well, I’m very sorry to have bored you!” Jonny said huffily.

  Adam laughed. “One thing you are not, my dear, is boring. And by the way, Lysander won’t mind you visiting at all. He’ll be delighted to see you again.”

  Jonny gave a small involuntary smile that revealed how much that assurance meant to him, and Adam patted his jiggling knee fondly.

  “Though you’ll have to wait a while to talk to him properly.” Adam set his newspaper aside and leaned back against the bench seat. “I’ve been away from home almost three weeks and I can’t wait to get him alone.” He grinned. “You’ll have to amuse yourself for the first few hours, I’m afraid.”

  Jonny chuckled fondly. “You’re disgustingly in love. Really I quite despair of you, Adam.”

  Adam glanced out the window in a pathetic attempt to hide his smile. They were nearly at Edgeley Park and he couldn’t wait to see Lysander. It was almost five o’clock so there was a good chance he’d be home, or home soon enough at least.

  When they drew into the driveway in front of the house, Adam had the door open and was jumping down before the carriage had fully stopped.

  “Fletcher will see you in!” he called over his shoulder at Jonny—Jonny only laughed.

  The door opened as he ran up the steps.

  It was Fletcher.

  “Good evening, sir,” his butler said. “It’s good to welc—”

  “Quite so, Fletch,” Adam interrupted almost giddily. “Is Mr. Winterbourne...?”

  Fletcher’s smile was indulgent. “In the study, sir.”

  “Guest in the carriage,” he managed in a strangled tone as he rushed past. “See him inside, will you?”

  Fletcher’s chuckle followed him down the corridor.

  The study was at the back of the house. You couldn’t hear carriages arriving from there, so, when Adam burst into the study, Lysander’s expression was all astonished pleasure.

  “Adam!” He jumped up and threw himself into Adam’s outstretched arms.

  “You’re early!” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you till Saturday. God, it’s good to see you!”

  Adam kissed him hungrily. “I missed you,” he said roughly. “Next time I go away that long, you’re coming with me.”

  “Mmm,” Lysander said against his lips, an incoherent murmur of agreement, and then they were kissing again.

  “Bed?” Adam said when they finally broke apart.

  “Bed,” Lysander agreed.

  They left the study in an unholy rush, making for the entrance hall and the main stairs.

  “Oh, I’ve brought you a present, by the way,” Adam said, thinking of Jonny.

  “Have you?” Lysander twinkled up at him. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Adam opened his mouth to tell him, but Lysander spoke again before he could get a word out. “Oh, and I forgot to mention—guess who’s finally come for that long-promised visit?”

  Adam had no time to hazard a guess before they were rounding the corner into the hallway and being confronted with the answer to that question.

  Jonny Mainwaring
was facing down Lord Perry Cavendish, giving him a long, appreciative look, while Cavendish—a full head taller at least—stood before him with a frankly terrified expression on his face.

  “My word,” Jonny said, in his light, drawling voice. “Aren’t you a big fellow!”

  Adam quickly tugged Lysander back round the corner before they were seen.

  “Oh my word, poor Perry!” Lysander whispered against Adam’s lips, his eyes dancing with amusement. “I should rescue him—did you see his face?”

  “He’ll be all right,” Adam murmured. “I’m sure Jonny will be gentle with him.”

  Lysander gave a breathy laugh. “I daresay you’re right. Shall we take the back stairs to the bedchamber then?”

  Adam gazed down at his lover and his chest ached with happiness.

  “You lead on, Mr. Winterbourne,” he said. “And I’ll follow.”

  Lysander’s gaze softened at his words. “Is that a promise, Mr. Freeman?”

  “Always,” Adam said. “Always and forever.”

  The End

  Titles by Joanna Chambers

  The Enlightenment Series

  Provoked

  Beguiled

  Enlightened

  Seasons Pass

  Unnatural

  Porthkennack Series (Riptide)

  A Gathering Storm

  Tribute Act

  Other novel length titles

  The Dream Alchemist

  Unforgivable

  The Lady’s Secret

  With Annika Martin

  Enemies Like You

  Enemies with Benefits

  Novellas and Short Stories

  Humbug (A Christmas Tale)

  Rest and Be Thankful (appeared in the Comfort and Joy anthology)

  Introducing Mr. Winterbourne (appeared in the Another Place in Time anthology)

  Mr. Perfect’s Christmas (appeared in the Wish Come True anthology)

  Merry & Bright (collected holiday shorts)

  You can find details of all my books at my website