Brook Street: Thief (7 page)

“Yes, Cavin. Yes, I understand.” Sam tugged on his forelock. “How much is he going to pay me?”

“I don’t know, but whatever the sum, thank him for it. You’ll live here, have a room in the garret, so your board will be taken care of.”

“Will I have me own room?”

“‘
My
own room,’ and yes, you will.”

“With an actual bed?”

“I assume as much.”

That got a brief smile from Sam. The boy might not be keen on the prospect of sweeping floors, but having more than a threadbare blanket on a hard wooden floor would go a long way in raising his spirits.

“I’ll stop at the tailor and pick up the trousers and two shirts that weren’t finished yet and drop them off tomorrow evening. Look for me at the back door, all right? And I’ll be stopping by to check on you every few days.”

With his bottom lip captured between his teeth and his eyes filled with uncertainty, Sam looked so very young, reminding Cavin anew that he really was just a boy, one who’d been on the streets for so long he couldn’t even remember his mother or father.

Cavin engulfed him in a hug. “It will be all right,” he murmured against his hair.

Sam nodded. “I know,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Cavin’s waist.

The sound of footsteps approached the door. Cavin gave Sam one last squeeze then released him.

Mrs. Gilroy was a plump older woman with frizzy gray hair tucked under a white cap and an apron smudged with some light green substance tied over a plain brown dress. She smiled warmly at Sam as Benjamin made the introduction, then wrapped her arm about Sam’s shoulder and led him from the study, chattering happily about sewing drapes for his new room.

“Mrs. Gilroy informed me that dinner is almost ready,” Benjamin said. “Please say you’ll join me.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly. You’ve already done far more than enough, Ben.”

“Nonsense. I would see it as a favor. I thought I’d have an empty table tonight. I would appreciate the company.”

“Thank you, truly, but I should be on my way.”

Benjamin gave him a look that clearly said Cavin was protesting for no reason. “It’s only dinner, Cavin. She makes the same amount of food whether it’s only me or a full table, so a guest wouldn’t mean any additional work in the kitchen.”

“I…” Cavin glanced about the study, looking anywhere but into Benjamin’s pleading, hopeful eyes. He shouldn’t agree. Nothing good could come from spending more time with Benjamin. He had accomplished what he’d set out to when he had brought Sam to Mayfair, and he should leave now. Shouldn’t tempt himself with someone who could never be his, but…

“Please, Cavin. It’s so good to see you again. Please say you’ll at least stay for dinner.”

And Cavin found it was impossible to refuse something when one really did not want to refuse.

Chapter Seven

Benjamin leaned back in his chair as Frank, his footman, removed the soup course. Then Frank placed their plates, piled high with asparagus and veal drenched in a light brown sauce, before them and turned on his heel.

“You said you wanted Sam in a position far from home. Do you mind me asking where you call home?” Benjamin asked, once Frank had left the dining room.

Benjamin noticed how Cavin watched him pick up the appropriate fork, and then the man followed his lead and speared one of the rather limp asparagus from the mound on his plate. He could tell Cavin was doing his best to appear at his ease, but the man couldn’t hide the stiffness in his spine. Perhaps he should have moved the meal to the breakfast room. He didn’t consider his dining room grand by any sense of the word—especially when compared to the formal dining hall at Haverson House, the family’s country seat where he’d spent most of his youth—but he could see how the long mahogany table, the crystal chandelier and the massive sideboard dominating one wall could prove a bit intimidating to someone who wasn’t accustomed to such surroundings. And he certainly didn’t want to give Cavin another reason to slip away from him.

Questioning the man likely didn’t help either, but he was desperate to learn more about him. And desperate to discover why it was so imperative that Sam find a position “far from home.” Benjamin hadn’t spotted a mark on the boy, but it had to be something dire to have driven Cavin to seek him out. And he couldn’t help worrying if that something dire affected Cavin, as well.

He highly doubted Cavin would volunteer the information. Perhaps someday, when the man was more comfortable with him, when Benjamin had earned his trust—if Cavin ever gave him the opportunity—Cavin would confide in him. In the meantime, he’d done what he could, taken Sam in, and maybe having the boy at the house would mean this wouldn’t be the last he saw of Cavin.

“I reside east of Mayfair,” Cavin said, after he’d swallowed the bite of asparagus and taken a sip of his wine. “So, your father…duke or a marquis?”

So much for the direct approach. “He was a marquis. My eldest brother has the title now. He spends most of his time at the family seat in Norfolk, though my other brothers and sisters spend a fair amount of time in Town.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

“Five. Three brothers and two sisters. All older than I and all happily married and eager for me to join their ranks. Though it’s become very clear of late that isn’t the course for me.”

“Does it bother you that you—” Cavin darted a glance to the closed door and lowered his voice, “—don’t want a wife?”

“No, not anymore. I used to fret about the possibility a fair bit.” That was putting it mildly. “But I recently decided to stop fretting about it. How about you? Any plans for a wife?”

“No. I’ve never felt an attraction in that direction.”

“Did you ever worry about it? Wonder why?”

“Not really.” Cavin shrugged. “I have a few acquaintances with similar preferences so I never felt as if I was the only one.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly that Benjamin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. How nice it must have been to have never had that particular worry hanging over one’s head. To have accepted oneself from the start. To have looked at another boy in the schoolroom, felt the attraction and none of the shame and fear.

“So what made you decide to
stop fretting
about it?” Cavin popped another piece of asparagus into his mouth.

“Worrying got damn tiresome. I’d suspected the truth for years but tried to avoid it. My brothers found women attractive, and I wanted to, as well. I didn’t want to face the possibility I could be different. Maybe if I had gone to Eton I would have met at least one other boy who felt as I did, and I would have had my answer years ago. But my parents put me under private tuition with a gentleman a couple hours from the family estate. There was just my brothers and two other boys, one of whom was quite a strapping lad.”

Cavin’s lips quirked. “Really?”

Benjamin felt the heat rising up his neck. Why had he mentioned David? He was tempted to brush Cavin off with a glib remark, but if he wanted Cavin’s trust, he needed to give his own in return. Fully and completely. Without reservation.

“Yes. He was a year older than me and he sat at the desk right in front of mine. When I was fourteen, I developed a fascination with his shoulders and that little patch of skin visible on the back of his neck above his shirt collar. Wanted to lick it so badly.” And other parts of David’s body, as well. “I used to dread being called upon to stand and recite a passage during lessons.”

Cavin’s eyes sparkled with mirth though his mouth remained in a deliberately straight line.

“Go ahead, you can laugh. I can laugh about it now, too, but then? I was terrified someone would guess why I was sporting an erection in a room full of boys, never mind the confusion over the fact that I found the boy appealing. Anyway, from there I went to Oxford. My brothers started getting married, and my friends wanted to tup pretty maids while my eye kept straying toward the grooms in the stables. I tried damned hard to find women appealing, even tupped a few maids. Poor things. And I continued on in that vein when I moved to Town. But…” He shook his head. “I was making myself miserable. Fretting about the possibility but scared to do anything about it. Finally got tired of it all. So I decided to find out the truth and whatever the answer, I’d accept it.”

“Just like that, you’d accept it?” Cavin asked, the disbelief clear on his face.

After slicing a piece of veal, he took a bite. “Yes. Why be unhappy when I could be happy?” It seemed rather silly now to have waited so long, but if he’d have acted on his desires years ago, he highly doubted he would have met Cavin. “I realized there was no point in fighting with myself. If I preferred men, so be it.”

For a long moment, Cavin just stared at him. “You’re very brave,” he said, low and with a startling amount of reverence.

What an odd thing to say. “I don’t consider myself as such.”

“It’s just…” Cavin waved a hand, the gesture incorporating the entire dining room. “You’re the son of a marquis. You move among the
ton,
” he said, stressing the word, his eyes going wide. “Reputation is everything there. My neighbors don’t much care what I get up to in my bed as long as I’m not doing it in theirs, but yours certainly do. If word got out, you would be ruined.”

“Yes, but it’s not like I’m going to shout it to all of London, Cavin. And I’m not the only one. Over the past year, I’d come to suspect that a couple of my friends have similar preferences.” Definitely Woodhaven and likely Radcliffe, and given the familiarity he’d detected between Norton and Bennett when he’d last saw them at White’s two days ago, they were most assuredly a pair. Though that was four, not a couple of friends. Interesting. He knew preferring men was not at all common, yet about half of his close acquaintances did so. Perhaps that was one reason why they’d gravitated toward each other, and why he felt so comfortable with them. “They don’t speak of it or make reference to it, but they get along just fine. No reason why I can’t do the same.”

Such a simple concept, and so clear to him now. As long as he was discreet, no one need be the wiser, and therefore no reason for him to fret about it.

“But you’re expected to marry, to produce heirs. You have a title to secure.”

“Well, yes, but I don’t have to marry. My eldest brother already has two heirs, and my other two brothers each have a son in their broods. The title is definitely secure. Not every gentleman takes a wife, and I certainly don’t want to now. That would be cruel, condemning some poor woman to a husband who can’t feel true attraction toward her. It’s the reason why I wanted to find out the truth about myself now. Once the Season starts up in a few weeks, my brothers and sisters will start their nudges again. They’ll tell me how wonderful it is to be married, how this or that young lady would make a wonderful wife for me. Subtlety isn’t their strong point,” he added. “But I’ll use some excuse to put them off. I’m only five-and-twenty, so they won’t nudge too hard just yet. Someday, though, I’ll have to be honest with them—or as honest as the situation will allow—and inform them I plan to remain a bachelor indefinitely.” While he knew his siblings loved him, some things were better left unsaid. That their brother was a sod was one of them. “They’ll be disappointed, but they won’t cut me off simply because I don’t want to marry.”

A smile tipped Cavin’s full lips. “They just want you to be happy.”

“True,” Benjamin said with a half shrug. “Can’t fault them for that. And I don’t.”

That smile turned wistful. “It must be wonderful to have such a large family.”

“I’m the youngest, so it wasn’t always wonderful growing up, but it made for a lively house. Never a dull moment. Makes this house feel rather empty in comparison.” Benjamin reached for his wine glass. “Do you have a large family?” he asked, trying to turn the conversation back to Cavin.

Chin tipped down, Cavin pushed a slice of veal to the edge of his plate with his fork. He shook his head. “Sam’s the only family I have.”

Loneliness weighted down Cavin’s quiet voice, tugging at Benjamin’s heart. His brothers and sisters could be meddlesome at times, but it was all done out of love and he truly did love them in return. Cavin didn’t have anyone but his brother…if the lad was truly his brother.

Cavin finally stopped moving the meat around and took a bite. A little flicker of distaste tightened his mouth.

“Yes, it’s overcooked,” Benjamin said, speaking the thought he was certain was going through Cavin’s head. “I’ve grown accustomed to Mrs. Gilroy’s fare, but you needn’t be polite and finish if you don’t care for it.”

“Oh, no. The meal is perfect. It’s just—”

“Well on the done side. You can admit it. You won’t injure my pride. I’m well aware my kitchen has its flaws.”

Cavin opened his mouth, as if to continue his protests, then he shook his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “All right. The veal’s a bit overcooked. Are you pleased now that I’ve admitted it?”

“Quite pleased,” Benjamin said, with a lofty little tip of his head.

Cavin chuckled, the line of his spine relaxing, and popped another piece of veal into his mouth. “It’s still edible, though. And the sauce is divine. Wonderful flavor to it.”

“That much is true.” He probably should have replaced Mrs. Gilroy months ago, but she was kind and always had a smile on her face and did an excellent job as housekeeper. In any case, the company around his table mattered more to him than the quality of the fare. As Cavin had pointed out, the food was edible, and that was enough for Benjamin.

As they continued the meal, Benjamin tried to sprinkle a few more questions into the conversation, but the only thing he’d learned was that Cavin was not currently employed. The way he’d answered the question, quick yet deliberately casual, followed with an inquiry as to the number of nieces and nephews Benjamin had, left Benjamin with the distinct impression that whatever position Cavin had previously—or currently—held wasn’t one he was proud to admit.

He was tempted to tell Cavin the man’s occupation mattered not one whit to him, but he held back. Cavin finally seemed at his ease, and Benjamin didn’t want that rigid air of self-consciousness to make a reappearance.

After a passable pudding for dessert, Frank cleared the table, leaving the dining room with arms laden with dishes, glasses and cutlery. A part of Benjamin was reluctant to even mention moving from the table, for Cavin could use it as an excuse to slip out the front door, but they couldn’t remain at the table all night.

“Shall we retire to the study for a glass of port?”

Rather than thin in hesitation, Cavin’s lips curved in a sinful smile. “Just a glass of port?”

“I also have whisky and brandy.”
And a mouth that wants to suck your cock.
The thought sprang to mind so quickly it rather startled him. Dear Lord, he had finally given his desires free rein and now his mind had taken a decidedly wicked turn. There was just something about Cavin that flipped every wicked switch inside of him, even some he hadn’t known he’d possessed. But oddly enough, he was all right with his newly depraved thoughts. More than all right. It felt damn good to be with Cavin, and the only worry hanging over his head was figuring out how to get the man to stay. “It’s quite pleasant in the study. In fact, more than pleasant,” he added, recalling their conversation from a week ago.

The beginnings of a laugh shook Cavin’s chest. “Indeed.”

“So, the study… Yes?”

Cavin’s gaze swept over Benjamin’s face. Benjamin swore he could feel the resistance begin to well up inside Cavin.

The knob clicked and the footman entered the dining room.

“Yes.”

Benjamin couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his mouth.

* * *

“Which door?” Cavin asked in an undertone as he reached the top of the stairs.

“End of the corridor.”

Cavin hadn’t taken but three strides when Benjamin pulled his hand free of Cavin’s. He glanced over his shoulder to see Benjamin reaching for a door knob.

“The bed,” Benjamin said, disappearing through the door Cavin had just passed.

“But yours is at the end of the corridor?” Cavin followed him inside a darkened room. With each step, his cock, still wet from Benjamin’s mouth, rubbed against his trousers, keeping the lust roused during their short stay in the study honed to a razor-sharp edge.

He shouldn’t have given in. He shouldn’t have even agreed to go to the study after dinner, let alone agreed to leave the study and come upstairs but…

Hell,
he had wanted to agree. Wanted to be with Benjamin. To have the man beneath him. If only once again.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, outlining Benjamin at the side of the bed. “Correct.” The man pulled back the coverlet. “And this one is officially yours, but in the event my housekeeper checks the room in the morning, I want it to appear as if you actually spent the night here.”