Thief of Hearts Read online

  He made sure he spoke to as many people in the party that he could. Blending in, making people laugh, flirting with the women. He made sure everyone would recall his presence there should it ever be called into question. He walked with the ladies and some of the gentlemen who ambled at a slower pace. He even walked a little way with Charnley and his cronies, chatting amicably. Inevitably, Standish sought him out, so he walked with him for a while before joining Coatsworth, seeking safety in numbers. When he had worked his way around the group a couple of times, he allowed himself to drift away on the pretence of looking at the view, and when the group began to split into smaller parties, he managed to slip away. He doubled back and headed to the house.

  He approached it from the side, through an entrance he had left unlocked. It took him straight into the servants’ quarters. It was cold and quiet. Only a few staff were around, so he sped lightly up the back staircase which led him to the bed chambers. He slipped into his own room to find Spencer waiting, small valise in hand.

  “Ready?”

  Spencer grinned and nodded.

  “You take the Holland covers, I’ll take the bed chambers.” David picked up a bag similar to the one which Spencer held. Innocuous, should anyone spot them.

  The first chamber he tried was Framling’s. It was unlocked, and his manservant was nowhere to be seen. He moved soundlessly about the room and headed for the dresser. He worked swiftly through the contents until he found a handsome looking set of pearls and a gold pocket watch sitting amongst several other pocket watches. The pearls were thrown in haphazard fashion into a box with a large amount of jewellery that, on closer inspection, looked like paste. Many of the Ton did that these days. Not risking the family heirlooms, so they had paste versions made which might fool an ordinary observer. David was not an ordinary observer. He laughed to himself. All that superior, holier than thou bluster, and his wife’s jewels weren’t even real. Skinflint. He fished through and decided only the pearls and the watch were worth taking. He moved everything back into place and slipped out of the room unobserved.

  He was tempted to repeat the process with other rooms, but on balance, decided he’d be better served working with Spencer to see what could be liberated without too much risk. It would be spring before anything was spotted as missing and by then there would have been several house parties. That was, of course, if they were ever noticed. He headed back to his chamber and placed the pearls in a well-hidden section at the bottom of his trunk. He secured it and set off again, this time moving up to a higher level. He checked in a few of the rooms, and spotting Spencer disappearing down the corridor, headed in the opposite direction. He opened a few more doors, but there didn’t seem to be anything of interest. He tried the last door before moving on and was surprised to find it locked. Most simply had a latch, but his had a proper lock which was promising.

  Heart beating a little faster, David reached into his inside pocket and pulled out the instruments he needed to make short work of the lock. A quick glance down the corridor to make sure no-one was looking, and then with a couple of clicks, the door slid open. He moved inside and closed it quietly behind him and stopped dead. Sat by the window, in the February sunshine, was a young woman. Her face was a mask of horror. David jumped, completely stunned, and caught wrong-footed. He scrabbled about in his brain for some kind of explanation for his presence.

  “My dear madam, please accept my most humble apologies at the intrusion. I…”

  The words died on his lips.

  The young woman stood. She was tall. Very tall. Slender. Wearing a silk and lace gown of dark blue which darkened her eyes. Eyes filled with a mixture of naked anguish and shame. Violet blue eyes. Violet eyes.

  Jeremy.

  Chapter 6

  They stared at each other. Eyes wide. Unblinking.

  David opened his mouth to speak but shut it. Jeremy looked…His heart pounded. He was instantly, fiercely aroused. It took him by surprise. Utterly by surprise and need gripped him. Hard. He wanted him. He wanted to go over and take him in his arms, lift the silk and lace creation, and fuck him. Hard. He was…beautiful.

  Jeremy held out a hand for a moment and then let it drop. In the dress, without his customary cravat and with his hair out of the way, his neck was long and pale.

  “I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “You…like dressing this way?” David’s voice wasn’t much better.

  “I…” The threat of tears misted those violet eyes and David couldn’t bear the shame he saw there. Couldn’t bear the misery.

  He closed the distance between them and took Jeremy’s face in his hands. He searched those violet eyes so filled with raw pain. He was lost. Utterly lost. He lowered his head and, breaking every last rule he held, kissed him.

  Kissed those luscious, plump lips and felt them quiver before opening to accept him. It took several moments before Jeremy’s arms went around him and held him tight. So tight he could barely breathe.

  “What are you wearing beneath that?”

  “Nothing. I like the silk and lace on my skin.”

  David groaned and kissed him again. Wide, aching kisses. The sensation of Jeremy’s mouth against his was unlike anything David had ever experienced. The taste of him, the touch of his breath, the sheer, aching need tinged with a desperate, burgeoning joy he could feel in his kiss. He was so lost.

  They stayed that way a long time until David could bear it no longer. He reached down to gather handfuls of the material to lift it up at one side, so he could slide his hand beneath and feel the warmth of his body. He ran his fingers up his strong thigh and round to his buttocks, letting his fingers trail over his crease.

  “I want you,” he murmured into Jeremy’s ear, between kisses. “I need you. Dear God, I need you now. Like this.”

  Jeremy pulled away and looked into David’s eyes. “Like this? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Do you want me to take it off?”

  David placed both hands on Jeremy’s backside over the soft, gossamer fabric, and pulled him close. Close enough to feel the extent of his arousal. Jeremy’s eyes fluttered closed and his lashes were wet.

  “No. Don’t take it off.”

  Jeremy’s mouth opened, and David covered it with his own. And then they were in each other’s arms. Desperate kisses that promised everything; gave everything. He lifted Jeremy, and, still kissing him walked them to the bed, where he dropped Jeremy onto it. He wriggled so he could lay on the pillows, and David tried to calm his breathing, but when Jeremy took the material in both hands and pulled it up, and up, until it was around his midriff he thought he was going to spill. He lay there looking utterly debauched. Plump, kiss stung lips, dressed outrageously in silks, but with his hard cock shamelessly displayed and looking at David with stunned adoration.

  “Touch yourself,” David said as he divested himself of his clothes and had to hold the base of his cock and look away when Jeremy pumped himself with one hand and then spread his legs.

  “This isn’t going to last long,” he warned Jeremy, who lay there with a bemused smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. David took the oil from his pocket and hesitating, showed it to Jeremy.

  “God, yes,” Jeremy breathed, pumping himself harder.

  “You are sure?”

  “Yes. God, yes. Just don’t get oil on my dress.”

  David smiled reluctantly. “I never thought to her those words from you.” David gathered up the material and tucked it gently out of the way. It slid through his fingers and rippled across Jeremy’s skin, making him sigh. He took both thighs and pushed them up to Jeremy’s chest and motioned for him to hold them up. David ghosted kisses over each thigh and Jeremy writhed. He rubbed his nose against the soft skin there and took his cock in one hand, held it up, and swallowed it down as far as he could. Jeremy howled, but clamped a hand over his mouth. He was so damned responsive, and so honest. David sucked and laved for a little while and then releas
ed him and took his testicles in his mouth for a moment, listening to Jeremy pant and whine his need, and then kissed the velvet soft skin beneath. Jeremy went still. David didn’t think he was breathing. He kissed lower and pushed Jeremy’s legs higher, until he reached the soft puckered skin he sought and swirled his tongue around it and made Jeremy sob. He licked and tortured him until Jeremy pushed at his head.

  “In me. In me. Now.” Breath ragged, hands shaking.

  David doubted he would last more than a couple of goes he was so aroused, but he grabbed the oil and slicked himself. He spread more on his fingers, and slid one into the tight warmth, groaning as Jeremy panted and pushed against him. He added another finger and probed inside until he found the spot which made Jeremy yell and buck against him as he stretched him. Prepared him. Readied him.

  “Now. Now. Now.”

  David pulled out and lined himself up and pushed. Gently at first, then harder. Jeremy winced, and he paused.

  “Tell me if I hurt you.”

  “Only a bit. Please don’t stop. Please.”

  David rocked them and as Jeremy relaxed he slid in to the hilt and filled him. He let Jeremy adjust to the feel of him, holding onto this control with everything he had, and then started to move. Jeremy’s eyes were closed, his face flushed a beautiful pink.

  “Look at me.”

  His eyes fluttered open and as David started thrusting, Jeremy’s mouth opened in a silent shout of pleasure, his eyes rolled, and they thrust together in perfect harmony. David wanted to fuck him for hours. Wanted to see that face for hours, for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t last. He knew he had but moments.

  “Come for me, Violet Eyes,” he whispered and then let go and pounded into him. Jeremy let out a long wail and came in thick hard spurts and David held on long enough to keep going before his entire body contorted and he emptied himself into him and came so hard the world around him faded until nothing existed but the heat of Jeremy’s body.

  They lay together in a tangled mess. Breathing heavily, not speaking. David didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know where to start. He felt Jeremy tense beneath him.

  “Did I hurt you?” He pressed his nose into Jeremy’s neck.

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. It was…good.”

  David heaved up on one arm to look down at him.

  “Are you wearing rouge?” Jeremy’s cheeks were still pink.

  He shook his head. “No. You did that.”

  Was it ridiculous to feel proud? David wasn’t sure, but he did. He had no idea what to say. Wasn’t sure if…

  Jeremy looked away to the side. David got up and found a cloth. They cleaned up in silence.

  * * * *

  Jeremy couldn’t stop shaking. His hands shook, his whole body shook, his cheeks burned, and he dared to hope that for the first time in his life, someone had understood him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  David paused, cloth in hand and looked over at him.

  “What for?”

  “For seeing me. For seeing through…” He gestured at the clothes he wore. “For still wanting me.”

  “It was a little…unexpected.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Do you…do you dress that way often?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No. Only when the household might be out, and I might have half an hour to hide away. Sometimes I need to…No-one ever comes up here. It’s…my secret.”

  David nodded and frowned.

  “You weren’t disgusted?” He could hear the uncertainty in his voice, but he couldn’t help it.

  David looked at him again, and the frown lifted, and a smile played about his mouth. “I think it’s safe to say that wasn’t my reaction.”

  Jeremy felt his cheeks flush again. He wasn’t going to deny it. Pretend it didn’t happen. His heart filled with so much emotion he didn’t know what to say or what to do with it. He watched the man who had just turned his world on its head. He had given him silk and been aroused at the sight of him in soft, feminine clothing. David was the only other person in the world that knew what the image of a respectable footman he presented to the world hid. It hit him with the force of a blow that David was going to be leaving him in just a few hours. The thought robbed him of breath.

  He put an arm over his eyes to try and stop himself crying.

  “Hey,” David said softly, and came and pulled his arm away. “Hey now.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against Jeremy’s. “I need to get back to the shooting party, but I will see you before I go. I give you my word.”

  “I don’t want you to go,” Jeremy said in a very small voice.

  “We will speak later.”

  David shrugged into the last of his clothes, and Jeremy got up from the bed and went to retrieve his horrible uniform. He slid out of the silk and folded it carefully and locked it away in his small case with his other items and his beautiful robe from David. He sat in the room for a while to let David get out of the way, and then, with a quick look, took himself out and locked the door behind him. As he dropped the key into his pocket, he paused. How did David get into the room? The door had definitely been locked, he’d tested it. David didn’t have a key, he had the only one. His fingers lingered on the doorknob as he frowned.

  Chapter 7

  “What have you been up to?” Spencer’s smile was far too knowing.

  “Mind your own business. What did you get?”

  Between them, they secreted the entire haul in hidden pockets in the trunk and packed away all of David’s possessions. When it was done, David stood with his hands on his hips and surveyed the room.

  “I’m going back out to walk back with the party. I’ve a couple of things to attend to and then I want to be off. Can you get Henson and get this lot loaded? I want to be able to move quickly. Make sure the horses are ready.”

  David needed to get away. Needed some time and space to think. All he could see was Jeremy Naylor wearing the silk dress, seeing the silk dress pushed up by his waist whilst he…

  A cough from Spencer dragged him from his thoughts.

  “Should you get on?”

  David scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed to stop this. Needed to get his head back on the game. He’d promised Jeremy he would say goodbye, but he was having serious thoughts about just leaving. Not sure he wanted to put himself through goodbyes. He hated goodbyes with a passion. That was why he never did them. It would be painful for Jeremy so really best all round if he simply got on with it.

  Decision made. He felt better. “I’ll go put myself about a bit then we will go. Be ready.” He straightened his hair and his coat and set out.

  * * * *

  The guests were arriving for afternoon tea. Some were leaving straight afterwards, others, with farther to travel were spending another night. Jeremy was annoyed with himself for not checking what David’s plans were. Would he stay another night? He really couldn’t bear the thought of his leaving. He’d promised to see him before he went, but Jeremy was afraid he wouldn’t be able to extricate himself from his duties long enough to say a proper goodbye if he was leaving after tea. His stomach turned over at the thought. Perhaps he would visit again? Sir Granville had numerous house parties as it seemed his wife couldn’t settle unless the house was filled with people. Perhaps he would come back in a few weeks.

  He carried plates of cakes whilst the others brought the tea, and he was placing a particularly delicious looking sponge when the commotion began.

  A redoubtable matron marched into the room. He had a feeling she was Lady Framling, but he couldn’t be sure. She was pink in the face, and her not inconsiderable frame vibrated and bespoke high dudgeon. Her husband trailed after her.

  “Where is Sir Granville?” she demanded of the room. “I wish to see him. Immediately.”

  Fisher, the butler, moved to intercept her with calming tones whilst the rest of the room stilled and looked on with a clear sense of outraged disapproval at such a common outburst,
yet also in delicious anticipation.

  “My Lady, may I be of assistance?” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing.

  “You may not. Bring me Sir Granville.”

  “Best do as she says,” her husband said with a sage nod. “Nasty business.”

  Fisher clicked his fingers at Mickey who scurried away, but Lady Framling was not finished.

  “My pearls,” she said, her voice quivering dramatically. “My pearls are gone. Stolen.”

  There was a ripple of murmurs across the room. Jeremy went cold and exchanged uneasy glances with the other footmen. When the aristocracy lost things, they inevitably suffered.

  “M’watch, too,” his lordship added.

  Jeremy was stunned they would make such a pronouncement to the room rather than ask for a private audience. It seemed in rather poor taste, but the guests moved to make sympathetic noises which simply served to make Lady Framling more voluble. David sauntered into the room alongside the annoyingly handsome Earl of Standish, looking tense as Lady Framling regaled all who would listen of her terrible loss. Her husband supported her wilting form as Sir Granville rushed in, wife by his side with arms outstretched to take her hands. Jeremy lifted his wig for a quick scratch whilst everyone’s attention was diverted. David spoke briefly to Lord Coatsworth, presumably to find out what all the noise was about.

  “My dear. My dear,” Sir Granville kept murmuring. “We shall get to the bottom of this, you have my word.” He bellowed for Fisher, who was standing beside him.

  “Get the staff together and find out who is responsible. I want the property returned in the next ten minutes or I’ll sack the lot of you,” he yelled, red-faced. Fisher bowed low and gestured to the footman standing around the perimeter of the room. They all followed him. Jeremy was cold all over. This was not going to end well.

  They assembled in the servants’ hall. The scullery maids, the parlour maids, the kitchen maids, the cook, the housekeeper—everyone stood silent as Mr. Fisher stood before them, face red, eyes glittering furiously.