The door opened silently and
Redding
stepped inside the bedchamber.
Ambrose smiled suddenly. He was trying his best to hide how lousy he felt before Francis so he wouldn’t refuse him this trip. He couldn’t allow Francis to leave without him, not when their relationship was so new. What if distance and time apart convinced Francis that an affair with him was a bad idea?
He needed the time and privacy afforded by
Tindel
Park
to turn this affair into something lasting. If Francis had been a woman, they would already be bound for the border for an anvil wedding. As it was, he’d have to settle for a clandestine alliance. He returned his gaze to Rupert. “I’ll make
Tindel
Park
my permanent residence, I imagine. Society has suddenly lost its allure.”
Rupert swiveled slowly, spotted Francis waiting uncomfortably, and turned back. “Ah. Then I shall leave you in capable hands.” He struck out his hand. “Safe journey, Papa.”
“Be well, Rupert. My best to Sally.”
~ * ~
Francis smiled as
Bracknell
embraced his father. He had worried that the breach between them would not be sealed before Ambrose departed
London
, but it seemed his worries had come to naught. He nodded as
Bracknell
stopped at his side.
“I hope you know what a bad bargain you’re getting.” He looked over his shoulder. “He’s a handful.”
Francis struggled to keep his amusement hidden at the dirty thought that popped into his head. He quite liked handling the duke’s cock but he couldn’t very well tell Lord Bracknell. “I’ll do my best to keep him out of trouble, my lord.”
“I have no doubts you will.”
Bracknell
slapped his shoulder good-naturedly and strolled out.
Once the door was closed again, Francis sauntered across the room. “Do I have any chance of convincing you not to make this trip?”
Ambrose grinned. “None whatsoever. I feel wonderful.”
The duke didn’t lie very well. He was still in pain judging by the look on his face. Francis shook his head. “You’re going to regret your decision by the end of the day. I could have returned home to visit with my brother and be back again before you’d noticed I’d gone.”
“I would have noticed the minute you stepped out the door.” Ambrose stepped close to Francis and cupped his jaw. “If I complain later, you can scold me like a good wife should.”
Francis scowled. “I’d hope you’d end that particular joke.”
Ambrose kissed him suddenly and grinned. “Not a chance. I imagine I could get a good many miles out of it still. What sort of wife shall you be?”
A possessive one
. A wife was a permanent feature in a man’s life. But Ambrose had avoided all permanent attachments since his wife died. Would he give up flirting? It was doubtful but Francis didn’t know how to respond. Some gentlemen
did
marry each other in clandestine ceremonies. None of them could be acknowledged. He shook his head. “You are incorrigible.”
“I am happy. Get used to it.” His lover closed his hand over Francis’ arse and squeezed. “I am determined to be the perfect husband, too. Devoted, faithful, ready and willing to adore.”
Francis’ heart pounded. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Of course.” Ambrose drew them closer together. “Who else would put up with me? Who else will speak their mind to me as you have always done? We are very well matched, Francis. Better than I imagined, and I have imagined quite a bit. Now, let’s get ourselves underway and home to
Tindel
Park
before I get carried away and need to be scolded.”
“The carriage
is
ready.”
Ambrose kissed him softly. “And it
is
a long drive. But we have plenty of time alone with no interruptions.”
Francis struggled to keep his lust under control, but he was fighting a losing battle. The duke’s kisses were taking his caution away. “You should rest during the trip.”
Ambrose swept his tongue inside Francis’ mouth, deepening the kiss until all Francis could think about was pleasure. Francis curled his hands into the lush brocaded waistcoat before him and jerked their hips closer together. The hard ridge of the duke’s erection bumped his.
“You shall be lucky if I don’t seduce you before we even get underway,” Ambrose whispered. “I saw pillows and blankets being stowed inside the carriage.”
“I thought of your comfort.”
“Such a good wife to take care of me.” The duke’s slow grin and slow moving hand forced a groan from his lips. “I’ve thought of nothing else but touching you. It’s going to be a very wicked trip, Francis. Do you still want to leave me behind?”
“No.” Francis swallowed. “I had a night terror, thinking about what you could get up to alone.”
“Nowhere near enough mischief with you gone. From now on, we do everything together. Agreed?”
Francis curled his hand over the duke’s erection and stroked. “Agreed.”
Ambrose ripped open Francis’ trousers. “Together.”
Epilogue
Fishing was a job requiring patience, determination and an unwillingness to admit defeat, which was why Ambrose lay on the river bank getting some sun while his lover did all the fishing. He marveled that Francis was still at it after three hours of intermittent nibbles. He’d given up long ago in favor of reclining half-naked in a sheltered spot that gave him complete privacy.
Perhaps that was the problem.
He hadn’t removed enough clothes to attract Francis’ attention. He rolled onto his back, slipped the buttons of his trousers undone and lifted his feet up into the air. He tugged off his trousers and smalls. This lying about idly in the sun made him amorous, which is why they came here twice a week. No one came looking for them here in fear of scaring away the fish.
And twice a week they didn’t have to muffle their voices from passing servants who didn’t have a clue so far that their master was completely and irrevocably in love with Francis Redding. He set his feet to the blanket and stroked his cock.
Terribly in love and Francis had no clue.
Something heavy dropped beside his head. Then Francis crawled over him and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I have your supper.”
“I have something for you, too.”
Francis looked down with a grin. “That old thing. I’ve had it before.”
“Oh, shut up. Stop reminding me that my birthday just passed.”
Francis cupped his balls gently. “So old.”
Blood surged to his prick. “Still able to fuck you twice a day. It would be more often if the damn servants would disappear for longer.”
“Shh, stop complaining. You’ll ruin your day.”
“Our day.” Ambrose countered. “How is your brother getting along?”
“As bad a patient as you. But he’s recovering nicely and shouldn’t require my daily visits for too much longer.”
“Good.” Ambrose pushed his lover onto his side on the blanket and snuggled against him. But his heart pounded with anxiety. Could he confess his love here and now? Doing so was fraught with danger. What if Francis didn’t love him in return?
He squeezed his eyes shut as Francis wriggled his arse against his cock. Francis had taken to being fucked as a duck took to water. He seemed to love the attention and was always willing when Ambrose wanted him. But he rarely took the initiative and Ambrose had started to worry that he wasn’t enough.
“Ambrose?”
He set his hand to his hip. The heat of his skin burned his fingers and he shuffled until his prick was better positioned. With a small adjustment, he entered a bit without the aid of lubrication.
Francis shuddered. “I love you.”
Ambrose heart stopped. “You love me?”
Francis shook his head violently. “Forget I said that out loud.”
“Oh, no, I won’t.” He wrapped his arms about his lover and crushed him against his chest. “You really love me?”
“No, you idiot. I meant
Tindel
Park
.”
Ambrose set his mouth against the hard muscles and nipped at the warm skin. “Liar. You said you loved me.” His heart raced and he lifted Francis’ upper leg and pressed deeper into his body. The tight ring gave grudgingly, eased no doubt by their earlier tryst. When he was deep, he pulled Francis against him and stoked his hand over his rippling stomach.
Francis looked over his shoulder. “Heaven help me, I do.”
Ambrose smiled as he curled his hand around Francis’ heavy thick prick. He stroked once. “I have a confession too.”
He stroked again, keeping his touch light and his hips still.
“What have you done now?” Francis grumbled, his hips shifting in search of more pleasure.
Ambrose laughed against his lover’s shoulder. He’d done the unthinkable. He’d fallen in love at the advanced age of five and forty and was smitten with his new life with Francis. This was exactly the best life could offer a man like him. He had everything he wanted and more. “Nothing too drastic.” He met Francis’ puzzled gaze and smiled. “I’m in love with you, too.”
About the Author
Heather Boyd
is the author of sizzling romance with an historical bent. A fan of regency
England
settings, she writes m/f and m/m stories that push the boundaries of propriety and even break the laws of that time. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she can conjure up new storylines. She lives with her testosterone-fuelled family north of
Sydney
,
Australia
.
Heather loves to hear from readers. You can visit her on the web at
or send an email to
BOOKLIST
NOVELS
The Wild Randalls Series
Engaging the Enemy
Forsaking the Prize
The Distinguished Rogues Series
Chills
Broken
Charity