A Promise of Tomorrow (3 page)

The young man at Weir’s side had paled and was looking pointedly at his shoes, biting at his lower lip nervously, making James wonder at the cause of his distress. They’d only shared a glance, nothingmore, no reasonfor sucha reaction. There must be something more going on than he was aware of, and he was surprised at the concern he felt. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, however, Weir was steering the young man across the room by the elbow and the two of them were disappearing into the crushinthe mainhall.

James was tempted for a moment to go after them. He even took a step in that direction before reason reasserted itself and he stopped. What would be the point ofgoing after them? He didn’t like Weir, and presuming on their limited acquaintance for an introduction to his companion would not go unnoticed. Even if they were introduced, what could he possibly gain by becoming better acquainted withhim?

A great many sleepless nights and the distinct possibility of making an arse out of myself, that’s what.

No, in the interests of his sanity, he needed to walk away now and forget he ever saw the man. He was actinglike a fool, and he had no excuse for it. The mere sight of a beautiful young man shouldn’t have caused him to abandon his wits in a crowd of his peers. He needed to get to Madam Renard’s
now
before he let his body lead himinto anymore potentiallyembarrassingsituations.

His mind made up, James turned on his heel and attempted to casually make his way to the front of the house. If he moved with too much purpose, people would notice and whisper, and he didn’t want to cause the slightest stir. It was earlier than he had planned to leave, but there was no help for it. No good would come of his staying at the ballanylonger.

He called for his hat at the door and made his way into the street to find his coach. He didn’t want to risk waiting for it to be called. It would be just his luck for Charlotte or the twins to come throughthe hallwhile he was waitingat the door.

He found the coach a few blocks away, and after rousing his surprised servants, was finally on his way to the night of debauchery he’d promised himself. Once his body was sated, he felt certain his reaction at the ball would be easily explained away as the temporary madness ofa mantoo longdeprived.
K
YLE
was in trouble. He knew it by the pinched look about Victor’s mouth and the painful grip his lover had on his elbow as he steered him through Lord and Lady Sutcliffe’s ballroom. What he didn’t know was
why
, and thereinlaythe cause ofhis anxiety. Ifhe couldn’t puzzle out what he’d done before the end of the night, Victor would be evenangrier at his stupidity.

When they stopped at the edge of the ballroom and Victor released his arm, Kyle rubbed the tender spot with his palm and looked expectantly toward his lover, but Victor had already turned away from him and was speaking casually to a friend, leaving Kyle feelingevenmore anxious.

The truth was, he couldn’t seem to do anything that made Victor happy anymore. Ever since they’d come to London, everything he did or said seemed to be wrong. The only thing he
could
do that seemed to please his lover was dress in the fine clothes that were bought for him, play the pianoforte for his guests, and remain silent unless spoken to. Kyle had learned to say as little as possible in the past few months lest he open himself, or Victor, to ridicule for his lack ofrefinement.

As Victor continued to ignore him, Kyle decided he’d best spend his time siftingthroughthe events ofthe evening, tryingto figure out what he’d done wrong. He didn’t think he’d said anything untoward. He’d been polite when addressed but otherwise kept his thoughts to himself. In fact, the evening had seemed to be going quite well. Victor had had plenty of opportunities to speak with his friends and conduct a little business, which always seemed to make him happy.

Kyle let his mind and eyes wander about the room, stillpuzzling over Victor’s sudden change in mood, until he realized he was looking for someone in particular and a sudden guilty thought occurred to him. The man in the ballroom. Had Victor caught him staringat the other man?

Kyle swallowed nervously and looked to his lover. He knew Victor had seen the other man looking in their direction. Victor always noticed things like that, most of the time long before Kyle did. His lover told him frequently that men watched him when they were out together, though Kyle never saw them, and usually the idea seemed to make Victor happy. He would say that he liked that other men wanted what was his. Kyle had never liked being referred to as a possession, but he’d learned to keep those feelings to himself. Nothinggood ever came fromarguingwithVictor.

Maybe Victor was angry because this time Kyle had been the one doing the looking. Kyle bit his lip as his stomach fluttered nervously. It had only been a look, nothing else. He’d been bored and a little anxious, as he always was at formal gatherings, just looking about the room for something to distract himself. He hadn’t been focused on anyone or anything in particular until he caught sight of the giant of a man against the wall. He hadn’t really meant to stare at him, but when those intense brown eyes had met his, he hadn’t beenable to look away.

Who was he
?

He had thought at the time that he looked vaguely familiar but was sure he would have remembered if he’d ever seen the man before. It wasn’t just that he was handsome, though that certainly hadn’t escaped his notice. But his eyes were what Kyle remembered more than anything else. They were warmand deep, kind and strong and so many other things Kyle couldn’t name. In that moment, he’d had the fantastic notion that he could get lost in them forever if he were given half a chance. Now, out from under their spell and standing next to an irritated Victor, Kyle felt foolish for his fanciful notions. Victor was right. He’d been reading too many of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels.

Thinking of Victor brought him back to the present and the realization that perhaps he was indeed at fault for Victor’s anger. Kyle sighed to himself and settled in for another miserable night. He could do nothing about it now except try to avoid any other mistakes and hope Victor’s anger would coolafter a few more hours. Perhaps if he played one of Victor’s favorite songs when they returned home or he thought ofsomethingspecialto do for himintheir bedchamber.

Asmall part of himwinced a little in shame at the mewling tone of his thoughts. He shouldn’t have to grovel. He hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he quickly pushed the feeling aside. Things were just a little tense between them right now. Victor had a great many responsibilities weighingonhis mind, and allKyle had to do was trya little harder to be more understandingand things betweenthemwould get better again. The fact that this line ofreasoninghad runthroughhis mind all too often of late did occur to him briefly, but it was also quicklysmothered before it could take root.

What other choice did he have?

 

Chapter 3

 

J
AMES
woke to the chime ofbells above his head and a sharp painin his neck.

 

What…? Where…? What time is it?

It took only moments to answer his half-formed questions as he glanced about the roomand the clock on the mantle chimed a second time. He remembered now. He had gone to the library rather than his bedchamber after returning from his foray into the seedier parts of London. The rest of the family hadn’t come home yet from the ball, and the house had been empty and much too quiet. He’d been too agitated to sleep, so he’d decided to read for a while before turning in. He must have beenmore tired thanhe thought, for he hadn’t made it more thana couple ofpages into the book before fallingasleep.

Now, unfortunately, he was wide awake, the house was still too quiet, and his neck was protestingthe abuse he’d heaped onit by falling asleep in a chair rather than his comfortable bed. He leaned forward in the chair and rubbed at his neck as the past few hours replayed inhis mind.

His carriage had taken him directly to Madam Renard’s from the ball. His coachman knew the way quite well after so many years, and he also knew where to wait untilhe was sent for whilst his master “attended to his business.” His servants knew the kind of establishment it was, but even they didn’t know the particulars of the type ofcompanionship he procured there.

MadamRenard was an extremely intelligent and canny woman who did not limit her services to any one type of depravity. If a man had a need and the coin to pay for it, she would see that he was satisfied by whatever means necessary, thus ensuring she had patrons fromeverygreat house inEngland and, consequently, would never be raided by anyone who wished to have a career afterward. It was one of the many reasons James patronized her establishment and hers alone.

At his knock, the plump, motherly madam in her simple, if a little low-cut, bombazine gowngreeted himat the door and led himto a small parlor. She poured hima glass of brandy and, playing out the now-familiar routine, gently asked what else she might provide for him. It was a scene that he’d enacted with her enough times on his trips to London that he felt certain she could have spoken his lines for him, but he answered anyway, requesting his usual companion. In short order, he was led to his customaryroom, and he settled into the deep, comfortable chair to wait.

Elias was prompt as always. After a quiet knock, he entered, closing and bolting the door behind him. Dressed only in a loose shirt and fawn trousers, he looked every bit as tempting as James remembered. Without a word, the young man crossed the few steps to James’s side and slid gracefullyto his knees next to the chair.

James smiled and threaded his fingers throughElias’s soft blond curls, closing his eyes and enjoying the simple pleasure of it. Unfortunately, with his eyes closed, the warm silk of the Elias’s hair took on a decidedly darker hue in his mind’s eye. Blond became blue-black and blue eyes warmed to green despite his best efforts to dispelthe image.

Frowning in consternation, James opened his eyes and focused his attentions at the young man by his side. Elias remained silent, on his knees, waitingpatiently. Theyhad beentogether enoughtimes that they were quite comfortable with one another. It was one of the reasons James always requested him. Elias knew what he liked and what he didn’t. There would be no awkwardness or need to instruct. Add to that his sweet smile, cherubic features, and lean, slim body, and Elias was the perfect companion to ease the need he’d built up over the past year… or so he would have said only a few hours ago. Now he wasn’t so certain.

And
that
thought truly puzzled him. In the past, he’d been attracted almost exclusively to soft-featured blonds, not black-haired, almost feybeauties, but there was no denying his reactions at the ball. Even now, with a delectable morsellike Elias kneeling in front of him, he couldn’t seem to get the other young man or his haunted green eyes out ofhis mind.

James shook his head and gritted his teeth. Elias was right in front of him, ready and willing, and he probably would never see the other young man again. He didn’t know what was the matter with him, but it had to stop, and he knew the best wayto distract himself.

He slid his hand further down to cup Elias’s head and drew the young man into his lap. Elias smiled and cuddled against him, sliding his hand up to James’s cravat, undoingit withnimble fingers.

“It’s good ta’ see you again, m’lord. It’s been too long,” he said, thenmoved his hands to the buttons ofJames’s waistcoat.

“Yes, it has,” James replied, taking Elias’s lips in a gentle kiss. The soft lips parted beneath his, and a warm tongue darted forward to tease him. James groaned. Oh yes, it
had
been too long. This was just what he needed.

He leaned in, tightening his hold in Elias’s hair and pulling himin for a deeper kiss. As their tongues tangled and explored, James slid his hands to Elias’s waist and drew his shirt up. Leaning forward, he nipped at the younger man’s chest, making him moan and writhe in James’s lap. The feel of that firm rump wriggling against his already strainingcock nearlysent himover the edge.

Standing abruptly, he nearly threw Elias toward the bed. As he tumbled onto the mattress, Elias laughed. “I have indeed missed you, m’lord. How willyouhave me?”

“I will have you unclothed first,” James replied, leaning against the bedpost and crossinghis arms over his chest. He took a breathto calmhimself as Elias rose up to his knees and pulled his shirt over his head.

“As m’lord wishes, a’course.” Elias’s eyes never left his as he slid hands down his chest to the front of his trousers, unbuttoning them slowly and sliding them down over his slim hips. He wore nothing beneath, and his long, slender cock sprang free of its confines, fully hard and waiting for him. The sight sent another pulse ofwarmthstraight to his manhood, and James had to struggle againto controlhimself.

Elias lay back on the bed and extended his legs toward James, his trousers bunched around his knees. James unfolded his arms and tugged them off, leaving the man bare, spread wantonly across the counterpane.