Thief of Hearts Page 13

  “The one you spoke of?”

  “The same.”

  “So, your father was Viscount Charnley.” It wasn’t a question. David really was from aristocratic stock. Jeremy couldn’t imagine how that might feel. “So, he now knows you prefer men, so he will be able to make you do anything that he wants?”

  David smiled weakly and cautiously pulled Jeremy into his arms. Jeremy went willingly. “He’s always known about my preferences, about me, but he won’t act on it because no-one else knows we are related. If he tries to do anything about me, I can reveal his father’s sordid past. It has been an uncomfortable status quo for some time.”

  “I don’t understand. If he has let you alone because he is afraid the connection will become known, wouldn’t pursuing me bring it all out into the light?”

  David kissed him on the ear. “I don’t know until I speak to him. You should retire. Get some sleep.”

  Jeremy squeezed his eyes tight shut. He’d known all along David was a thief. That he lived in a world so different that they would always be miles apart. Now David was going to have to steal again, but this time it was because of him. He had given his brother ammunition to use against David.

  What an unholy mess.

  He pulled back and looked at David. “If you do this, you should stop thieving. Find an honest way to make a living.”

  David frowned and looked away. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, letting go of his hold on Jeremy.

  Jeremy sighed. “I’m not being ridiculous, I’m being serious.”

  David flicked an awkward glance in his direction. “You are beginning to sound like my brother.”

  “I’ve tried to ignore what you do. I really have and it’s terrifyingly easy when you give me all this,” he said, looking around the hallway. “When you take me to the theatre, give me all the things I have ever wanted.”

  “Jeremy…”

  “But you’re a thief.”

  David squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before looking at him. “I have lived with nothing. Less than nothing. I know what it is to suffer, to sell one’s soul, one’s dignity…” Jeremy watched as David shook as he spoke. “I will never be in that position again. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m not suggesting you should. I’m suggesting you have enough to start making an honest living.”

  “Honest living?” David spat. “Honest living? What, like you?”

  Jeremy absorbed the blow and took a deep breath. “Yes. Like me.”

  David laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “So why are you still here? Why are you still standing in the house of a thief if it disturbs you that much?”

  Jeremy felt the truth of it fill his chest. He couldn’t speak for a moment. He blinked and swallowed until he could trust himself to speak, and he could only give him the truth.

  “Because I love you.”

  David froze. His face a mask of incredulity. Then he laughed. Laughed and laughed until he had to mop his eyes. “Dear God, Jeremy. When will you stop with the dramatics? Going to the theatre has addled your wits for sure.”

  Jeremy held onto his composure. “I’m going to bed.” He turned and walked to the stairs, leaving David in the hallway looking hopelessly lost. He glanced back once, and the vulnerability in his handsome face was painful to behold, but he looked forward, kept on walking.

  * * * *

  David lay in the darkness of his room. The last embers of the fire crackled in the grate, but apart from that, nothing. Just unrelieved blackness exactly like his damned soul. He would not go to Jeremy. He would not. Love. What absolute nonsense. He wouldn’t be the first to profess undying love, but there was nothing in his life had ever shown him that such an emotion even existed beyond the realms of childish dreams. His mother had loved him once, but that hadn’t saved him. He rolled on his side and stared into the dark and ignored the loneliness. It was nothing new. On the morrow, he would go to Charnley, find out what he wanted and then Jeremy could be on his way.

  His chest hurt.

  He pulled the coverlet up over his ears and thumped the pillow. It was cold in the bed alone.

  The sound of the chamber door opening made him jump upright and throw back the drapes around the bed.

  Jeremy stood in the doorway. Holding a single candle, he looked like an angel.

  “What are you doing?” David whispered.

  Jeremy closed the door and walked to the bed. He put the candle by the bedside and took a breath. “I was worried about you.”

  David’s laugh was uncomfortable. “What the hell for?”

  “It was an…unpleasant night.”

  Well, that was an understatement. David looked at Jeremy for a moment, then pushed back the coverlet. “Get in. If you are staying.” His tone was not encouraging. David held his breath waiting as Jeremy gave him a long, considering look before putting the candle on the stand by the bed and climbing in beside him. He wore the vibrant silk robe and, it appeared, nothing else. In that moment, David was forced to admit a certain admiration for his lover for coming to him after their argument. He couldn’t have done it.

  They lay, side by side, not touching and David felt the weight of everything settle on him. His past, his present…he absolutely refused to acknowledge that his future could be lying beside him.

  His chest hurt.

  “Would you like me to blow out the candle?” Jeremy said, interrupting his maudlin moment.

  “If you like.”

  Jeremy sat up and dealt with the candle. The room plunged back into gloom with only the faint glow of the fire. David ran a hand over his eyes. He presumed Jeremy would want congress, but he wasn’t sure he even had the energy. He was surprised, nay shocked, when Jeremy lay over him and kissed him gently.

  David let his eyes close as he responded.

  “Let me look after you,” Jeremy whispered, between soft kisses. “Just lie back and let me take care of you.”

  David pulled away and looked up into his eyes. In the dark, he couldn’t read his expression. Jeremy stroked David’s hair, ran his fingers over his face, brushing his thumb over his cheek, cupped his jaw and kissed him again. David wanted to weep. Jeremy pulled back again, and this time wriggled out of the robe and then slid over so that he lay in the cradle of David’s thighs. The feel of him there was almost too much. David raised his legs either side of Jeremy’s hips and held him whilst Jeremy continued stroking and kissing. David wrapped his arms around him as the ache inside grew. The emptiness became all-consuming and pushed at his soul, demanding all the things never allowed himself to want.

  David reached out to the bed stand and grabbed a vial of oil. He closed his eyes and pushed it at Jeremy.

  “Do it.” He barely recognised his voice or the need that welled within him, consuming him. The need to just let go and not feel.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Just do it.”

  Jeremy pulled back, and David pushed him, so he could roll on his side and bury his face in the pillow.

  His moans were low and long as Jeremy readied him with gentle fingers, all the while kissing the back of his neck, between his shoulders and murmuring words of encouragement. Jeremy raised David’s leg and pushed at his entrance and David let go. He welcomed the pain, the burn, but it faded to be replaced by a terrifying pleasure which made him feel cared for. Complete. Jeremy pulled out and plunged back and David hissed, pushing back against him.

  “Harder,” he whispered.

  Jeremy gripped his hips and thrust long and hard, and David couldn’t stop the tears that leaked from his eyes as he gave himself up and simply felt. Jeremy’s pace became harder, erratic, and then his head dropped onto David’s shoulder.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his voice jagged. “Love you so damned much. Come. Come.”

  David exploded with a hoarse yell and felt Jeremy finish inside him and they soared together. Jeremy was kissing his head, his neck, and stroking him. David could feel his heart making fair bid to exit h
is chest, and he could feel Jeremy’s heart thundering as he pressed behind him. They lay like spoons in a drawer and David couldn’t move. He knew he should clean up. Knew he should…hell, he had no idea what he should be doing. He let his eyes close.

  * * * *

  Predictably, by morning, David returned to reality with a soul crushing sense of shame. Deep mortification at having so exposed himself to his brother, allowing Jeremy to see the broken parts of him that he hadn’t even realised he had, together with the even deeper embarrassment that he had dragged Jeremy’s gentle being into the cesspit that was his life. He tried to slink undetected from the bed, completely unable to face his lover.

  Jeremy stirred immediately, those violet eyes blinking open and filling with warmth.

  “Where are you sneaking off to?” he said, rolling onto his side and propping his head on one hand. He smiled sleepily.

  “I’m not sneaking anywhere. It’s time I was up.” David looked away from him and got out of the bed and grimaced at the reminder of their nocturnal activities. His stomach was crusted and as for his arse…well.

  “Well, you’re definitely up,” Jeremy said with a nod in the direction of David’s morning erection.

  David shook his head and stalked to the washstand and quickly washed and removed the worst of the mess from his stomach, grimacing as he did so. He moved to the dressing room to search out clean items, intensely irritated by the fact that he was going to be able to feel Jeremy for the rest of the day, and furious that he was going to have to go and deal with Charnley. He was hastily pulling on a pair of smalls when Jeremy followed him in, wearing only his colourful robe, hair awry and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  He yawned expansively. “It’s barely gone six in the morning. It’s dark and cold.”

  “I have a lot to do.”

  “Of course.”

  Jeremy watched whilst David pulled a shirt over his head, making his discomfort grow. He tilted his head to one side and touched David’s arm. “Don’t feel uncomfortable because of last night.”

  David’s breath hitched in his chest, and his head hurt. “I’m not uncomfortable. Why would I feel uncomfortable?”

  “Well, your brother threatened to have me killed, and then you gave yourself to me rather beautifully.”

  David whirled around to face him, cheeks flaming. “Gave myself? Gave myself? Do you have rocks for brains? What the hell are you talking about?”

  Jeremy held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, but his eyes were filled with infuriating warmth. “If you say so.”

  David stalked over to him and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Do not mistake what last night was about. I felt sorry for you if you want the truth. If you feel the need to wrap up what is going on between us in doe-eyed professions of love and…and gifts and giving then be my guest, but do not expect the same from me in return.”

  The smile in his eyes wavered, replaced by a tiny frown. “But…you let me…”

  “Of course, I damned well let you. What man who likes men wouldn’t? It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “David, you are confusing me. Ever since we met, ever since we got here, you have treated me as though I were…important to you. What are you saying?”

  David shut his eyes and prayed for strength. Prayed for calm. “Nothing. I am saying nothing. Now let me get dressed. I have a lot to think about. Ignore me.” His heart was hammering in his chest and the look of hurt and wariness in Jeremy’s eyes stung him and, quite ridiculously, he felt angry with Jeremy for making him feel that way.

  “Go back to bed. We can talk later.”

  “No. I want to talk now.” Jeremy’s chin went up, his face taking on a mulish cast he hadn’t seen since their fight outside the Fallows place.

  David ground his teeth and tried to hold onto his composure. “There is nothing to talk about.”

  “There is everything to talk about. You saw me at my most exposed and you held me and loved me. I’ve seen you at your most exposed and I held you and loved you. Don’t tell me this is nothing. What we have between us is special and I am not afraid to admit it even if you are.”

  “Jeremy. Stop dramatising.” David kept his voice even, but he was surprised when Jeremy stepped back, dropped his gaze, and bowed slightly.

  “Of course. I’ll leave you to dress.” He walked out without another word, leaving David staring at the space he had occupied and wishing he had stayed to fight.

  Chapter 16

  David strode purposefully down the street and sucked in lungsful of air. Dear mother of God and all that is holy what have I done? The words hammered inside his skull. His life had been straight forward. Uncomplicated. Largely because there was no-one in it but himself. There was a reason for the rules he held. Allowing people close would lead to nothing but disaster. He’d known that, but still allowed Jeremy into his life. That it was Charnley who had dared to use his slip against him was galling in the extreme, but the guilt that assailed him at what he could do to Jeremy almost undid him. He needed to get this settled, find Jeremy a home and a trade and leave him alone. All he could see was Charnley’s face when he made the threat. That he would stoop to using an innocent man to get to him.

  Bastard.

  He ran a hand around the back of his head, almost dislodging his hat. Absolute bastard. He’d pay him a morning visit and find out what the hell it was he wanted, but in the meantime, he had another visit to make. He headed in the opposite direction to Charnley’s Grosvenor Street mansion. He walked rather than drove his phaeton, largely because he needed to clear his head, but partly because he had absolutely no idea how long the whole damned business would take, and he didn’t want his horses getting cold.

  He strode out, hunched in his greatcoat, through Leicester Square until he reached Covent Garden. His pace was brisk as a light rain had begun. He headed down Southampton Street until he reached the Strand, not far from the theatre they had attended, and ducked into a small coffee shop, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The owner’s wife, Mrs. Kendrick, came forward with a smile.

  “Mr. Lambert. What a pleasure. What can I get for you?” She indicated a table, but he remained standing.

  “Coffee and a word with Mr. Kendrick if he is in?”

  “He most certainly is. Would you like to take your coffee with him in the back parlour?”

  David bowed. “That would be most kind.”

  He followed her through the shop, behind the cramped counter, and into the back parlour where, sure enough, he found Bill Kendrick who looked up and gave him a genuine smile. He stood and clapped him on the back.

  “Davey boy!”

  “Bill. How’ve you been?”

  “Can’t complain, can’t complain.” Bill sat back down in his chair by the blackened range and indicated the one opposite with its neat tapestry cushion.

  David sat and accepted a cup of coffee from Bill’s wife. Once they were alone, Bill grinned at him and ran a hand over his grey hair. It was clearly oiled with something.

  “Whaddaya think?” he turned his head this way and that.

  “Smart. Very smart,” David offered.

  Bill stared at his hand for a moment, and then rubbed it on the leg of his breeches. “Got it today. Macassar hair oil. Chap called Rowland been flogging it all over the place. Even put a piece in that paper. The one the wife reads.”

  “La Belle Assemblée?” David said, trying not to laugh.

  “The very one. Supposed to be good for me ‘air.”

  “Well, it looks very fine.”

  Bill took a long drink from his cup. “Got something for me?”

  “I have. I need a favour.”

  “Name it.”

  David sipped at the strong coffee and gathered his wits before he spoke.

  * * * *

  David took a hackney to his half-brother’s house on Grosvenor Street. It was an imposing edifice. His part of the family was nothing if not high in the instep. Perversely, it always made him wa
nt to revert to thieves cant when he spoke to him. Not that they spoke much. A handful of conversations over the space of around ten years and none of them had ended well. His brother was his senior only by about five years, and he seemed to think that it gave him some position with him. It didn’t. He wasn’t interested in humouring Charnley in his apparent desire to play Head of the Family.

  Charnley, it seemed, had been unaware of David’s existence until he attained his majority and had decided they should become acquainted with one another, which in simple terms meant that David should forget about revealing the sordid facts about his birth and humiliating the entire family. He’d no intention of doing anything, he had no desire whatsoever to be exposed as the old Viscount Charnley’s bastard, but he rather liked the idea they were afraid he might. There had been various attempts at communicating with him over the last few years, increasing in determination, but nothing like this. Threatening Jeremy had taken it to new highs and if he persisted, David would have absolutely no hesitation in sending them all to perdition. He had the means to do it, and the visits he had paid this morning meant that if anything happened to him the entire world would know what kind of man Charnley was. Bill would see to that. Bill was one of the few people that had been in David’s life since it all went to hell as a child. One of the few people he could trust completely.

  He banged on the door using the brass knocker. When it opened, he handed his card to the butler. “Charnley is expecting me.”

  The door was opened wide to allow him entrance, and he handed his hat and cane to the footman. He was ushered to the study where he found Lord Charnley standing by the fireplace looking oddly tense.

  “David.”

  “I don’t recall giving you leave to use my name.”

  Charnley rolled his eyes. “Should I call you Albert?”

  David unclenched his fists and took a step forward. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You are the most buttoned up, pig headed…” He threw his hands in the air.

  “Just get on with it.”

  Charnley adjusted his cuff and then looked at him. “I have a task which needs carrying out.”