Authors: Unknown
Jason shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just so fucking sorry about all of this.” He threw himself down on the settee and ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “Yes, we’ll hunt him. We probably won’t find himtonight, he’s had too big a head start. But we’ll hunt him down eventually.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs, his hands clasped between his knees. “Right now, I’m just worried about Jonathan.” He looked around the room at everyone. “Did any of you know about this?” There was a collective murmur of nos. Jason took a moment to make eye contact with each man.
“Is anyone else keeping secrets that are going to blow up in our faces?”
At the question, Ian’s gaze went to Derek Knightly. Derek hadn’t slept a full night since the war. Ian should know,he shared a bed with him. He wouldn’t talk about the nightmares either, but from what Ian had gleaned from the disjointed ramblings Derek muttered during the dreams, they were about what he’d seen, not what he’d done. Derek’s gaze met and held his, as if daring Ian to speak. He shook his head slightly to tell Derek he’d not speak, and Derek closed his eyes briefly in relief. Had they come to this then? Derek no longer trusted him with his secrets. It hurt more than Ian would have dreamed possible.
Ian could see Derek’s face change, and he knew he was experiencing one of his lightning mood swings.
Anger sparked in his eyes.
“Worried about Jonathan?” Derek sneered.“A man who runs out on his lovers when they need him most? Let him rot, I say.”
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“Derek!” Daniel gasped. “You were there, how can you speak so? Jonathan is tormented by that boy’s death. The shock of Maggie’s attack, his own guilt—Christ, I hope we find him in time.”
“Doesn’t he have a country house somewhere?” Brett asked the room at large. “It’s a place to start.”
“Yes, yes he does,” Ian said.“In the Lake District. Derek and I went there a few months ago, when he was in exile from Maggie and Phillip.”
“History repeats itself…” Tony murmured from where he stood behind Jason.
Derek turned and flung himself toward the door. “Well, damn it, I’m off to beat some sense into him then. Bloody fool.”
As he rushed out of the house, all eyes turned to Ian. He sighed and turned toward the door. “Forgive him, gentlemen. You know his temper. And I’m afraid he is misdirecting it.” Ian smiled wryly as he stopped at the door and surveyed the room. “You see, congratulations are in order. I’m to be married.”
His announcement was met with shocked silence. “What, no congratulations?” he said with mock joviality.
“You didn’t say
we
,” Tony answered him.
Ian turned away. “No I didn’t, did I?” He sighed again. “Well, I had best go and rein in my erstwhile lover.” He closed the door behind him.
“Well,” Daniel said after Ian quietly left the room, “we’re all being rather open today, aren’t we?” He adjusted his coat as he sat.
“What do you mean?” Jason asked irritably, getting up to pace. Most of the room had broken up into smaller groups and were discussing what to do about Robertson and Jonathan, as well as Ian’s startling news. Only he, Tony, Brett, Kensington, Wolf, Simon and Daniel were gathered around the settee.
“Well, you and Tony certainly aren’t hiding the fact that you’re lovers,” Daniel said and Jason turned to glare at him. “And Phillip and Jonathan are clearly closer than I suspected as well, and now Ian has openly acknowledged he sleeps with Derek. I mean we’ve all known it for years, but I’ve never heard him say it, have you?” He paused and no one answered. “So I guess I’m a bit peevish. I’ve been the only man around here brave enough to admit I have sex with other men on as regular a basis as I can manage it. Now I’m just another member of the pack.”
“Not true, Daniel,” Simon grinned wolfishly. “Everyone knows I’ll sleep with anything that stands still long enough.”
“For God’s sake…” Jason began, but Daniel interrupted him, his voice bitter.
“It must be love,” he simpered. “Ah, the smell of it, love is in the air, and all that rot.”
“Daniel,” Brett said quietly. “Harry…”
“Is gone,” Daniel finished flatly. “Long ago, and long forgotten.” It was Daniel’s turn to throw himself to his feet. “Well, I’m off to the Hellfire Club.”
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“What?” Jason asked, shocked. The Hellfire Club was an amoral pit, for the most licentious, liberal members of the ton. Surely Daniel didn’t intend to spend the evening whoring and gambling?
“Oh Jason, don’t be such a Puritan,” Daniel laughed, his good humor restored. “I’m going to see if I can find any of Robertson’s cronies there. They might be able to shed a little light on his whereabouts.”
Jason shook his head ruefully. Why hadn’t he thought of that? “I’m sorry, Daniel. Yes that’s a good idea. Take Simon with you and perhaps a few others. Neither Robertson nor his old set can be trusted.”
“Neither canI , when I set my mind to it,” Daniel remarked as he gestured to a few men to follow him.
“Neither canI .”
* * * * *
Gingerly he raised himself up from where he was sprawled across the bed. He was wearing rumpled dirty clothing, and from the smell they were the same ones he’d had on when he lost his accounts all over Derek. His bleary eyes scanned the room, and he was shocked at its condition. Empty decanters and bottles littered almost every surface, along with dirty glasses. There were clothes strewn on the floor, and furniture toppled. It smelled like the inside of a whiskey bottle.
He somehow managed to get his legs over the side of the bed but had to sit for a moment and wait for his head to stop spinning before he could stand up. He stumbled over and rang for a servant. He would kill for some water and a bath.
A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Jonathan was leaning weakly against the wall and winced as the knocks were echoed in his head.
“Come in,” he croaked, barely able to get the words past his parched throat.
Jack Thompson came in and looked around, disgusted. “You rang, sir?”
“Where are we?” Jonathan asked him, slowly moving to the nearest chair.
“At Briarlake , sir.”Jack’s tone was unforgiving.
Ah, his country house. Well, that was good. He hadn’t turned someone else’s house into a sty.
“How long have I been drunk?”
“Youwas drunk for three days, sir.Been passed out for two.”
Five days! No wonder he felt as if he’d been run over by a cart and stomped by the horse that pulled it.
“I need a bath desperately,” he ignored Jack’s snort of agreement, “and please get someone up here to clean this mess up.” Jack started to leave, and Jonathan stopped him with one more request.“And another bottle of whiskey.”
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This time Jack’s snort was one of disgust. “And what shall I tell the gentlemen waiting to see you?” he asked with a definite note of anger.
Jonathan froze. “Phillip?” he whispered.
“No, sir, seeing as how the missus probably won’t be able to travel for a while yet,” Jack said, his tone a little more conciliatory. “It’s that Duke and some others.”
Jonathan sighed. “Tell them I died,” he said wearily, sinking back into the chair, his hand on his forehead trying to hold his head together.
“I say, Jonathan, not funny,” a voice said dryly from the doorway. Jonathan glanced over and saw Freddy entering as Jack left. Freddy looked around the room and his nose wrinkled with disgust. “Ugh.
After day two, we decided to leave you alone to wallow in your misery. You settled into it quite well, I should say.”
“Goodbye, Freddy,” Jonathan said firmly but quietly. Even so, his head ached with each word. Freddy’s voice was enough to make even his teeth ache.
Freddy moved farther into the room. “It was my turn to check on you, and I really can’t shirk my duties, Jonathan. Have you decided to rejoin the living?”
“No.” Jonathan closed his eyes to block Freddy out.
“Are you going to continue to smell like that?”
“Yes, if it will keep you away.”
“You needn’t act as if I’m the enemy. I rescued you from a well-deserved Derek thrashing after all.” He heard Freddy sit down in the chair opposite him. “Nice house by the way. It’s not Ashton Park, but then what is?”
Jonathan sighed wearily. “You needn’t nurse me, Freddy. I’m not likely to slit my throat today. I couldn’t even find it in my condition. Besides, I prefer to slowly drink myself to death.”
Freddy sighed right back. “Well, that won’t be allowed either, I’m afraid. Now chin up, bathe and come down and breakfast with us.”
“Us?”Jonathan inquired, cracking one eye open. “Is Derek still waiting to beat me to a bloody pulp?”
“Remember that, do you?” Freddy chuckled. “He’s still here with Ian, and that’s no picnic I can assure you. They are at daggers drawn because Ian has decided to marry some chit he’s been betrothed to since the cradle. We’re all trying to stay out of his way.”
That got Jonathan’s attention. “Is it a three-way marriage?”
Freddy shook his head. “Ian would like it to be, but Derek’s not very good at sharing.”
“Poor Ian, cruel Derek.Or is it cruel Ian, poor Derek?” Jonathan asked wryly. “Are we openly acknowledging they’ve been lovers for years now?”
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“Apparently.”Freddy shrugged. “What with Jason and Tony, and now you and Phillip, it hardly seems worth the effort to hide these things.”
“There is no more me and Phillip,” Jonathan said harshly. He stood too quickly and his head felt light as his vision began to darken around the edges.
“Whoa, my boy,” Freddy said, jumping up and grabbing Jonathan’s elbow. “Let’s take it easy, shall we?
You’re in no condition to be rushing about. We need to get some food in you.”
Just then Jack returned with a maid. “Here, girl, clean this mess up now,” he instructed her. “Come now, Mr. Overton, I’ve had a bath sent up to the chamber next door.” He carried a tray with a bottle of whiskey and a clean glass.
“Put that away,” Freddy ordered him, “and bring some food instead.Something simple, toast and tea, and perhaps an egg.”
Jack grinned. “Yes, sir,your Grace.Right away.” He passed the tray to someone just out of sight. “Bring that food to the chamber next.” He waved a hand, and two servants with trays went by the door.
“You’re a wonder, Jack,” Freddy told him graciously, urging Jonathan forward with a hand on his arm.
Jonathan was put out. “This is still my house, Freddy, duke or not, and I want the whiskey, not toast and eggs. I’m not an invalid.” He knew his voice sounded peevish, and he didn’t care. He leaned on Freddy as they left the room.
“Of course, Jonathan,” Freddy said dutifully, but Jonathan noticed he did nothing to countermand his earlier orders.
As soon as they entered the room, Jonathan knew it had been a mistake—a mistake not to realize what room they were going to, a mistake to stay sober at all. He turned abruptly. “I can’t…I can’t stay here.”
“What?” Freddy asked, pulling him around again. “Are you mad? You’ve got to bathe and eat. You’ll feel human again.”
Jonathan closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at the room—the feminine bedclothes and curtains, the dainty dressing table and soft chairs. “This is her room, the room I had done for Maggie,” he whispered raggedly.
He felt Freddy start next to him. “And it looks wonderful I’m sure,” he said staunchly after a moment.
“Any woman would love to have it. But it’s just a room, and you stink.”
Freddy forced him into the room and into Jack’s hands. In no time at all he was stripped and dumped into the steaming tub of water placed before the hearth. While he was soaking the grime away, food was thrust into his hands and he ate mechanically. By the time he was bathed and dressed he did indeed feel human again. He was on his third cup of tea, wishing for something stronger, when he heard someone clear his throat at the door. He looked up and groaned loudly.
“I’ve declared I’m living in hell, so they send me a saint,” he said dryly, setting his cup down.
“I think you give me too much credit,” Stephen Matthews said. “May I come in?”
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“Can I stop you?” Jonathan asked ungraciously.
“Of course,” Stephen smoothly replied. “The rest of us haven’t forsaken good manners.”
Jonathan laughed. “Come in and do your worst.”
Stephen came in and sat down across the small table from Jonathan. “So is there anything you’d like to talk about?”
Jonathan glared at him. “No.”
Stephen merely raised a well-defined aristocratic eyebrow at him. “Well, I do. There are several people downstairs who have been worried sick over you, and I dare say quite a few more in London. Are you ready to stop wallowing in self-pity?” He looked at Jonathan expectantly but Jonathan said nothing.
“Usually I would have worked up to that, but I’ve been sitting here twiddling my thumbs for five days, and I’ve a living to get back to, people who really need me.”
“I don’t need you,” Jonathan growled, and he rose stiffly to pace to the window. “If I’m damned, I’m damned, and if you’ll excuse the redundancy, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
“Hmm, very clever,” Stephen mused. “Why are you damned again? It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten.”
Jonathan spun to face him angrily.“You self-righteous bastard. Don’t you dare judge me or mysins. You know nothing of them.”