Strange Strange World Box Set

Chapter 11: Warrick

Chapter 11: WarrickThe taxi driver let me out in the courtyard of Greenbriers. I accepted my kitbag from him, paid him, and then turned to study my friend’s home.

It had been only two years since I’d last stood here, but it felt like a lifetime.

I limped to the front door, startled when it opened before I could lift my hand to the bell pull.

“Lieutenant Synclaire. We’ve been waiting for you.” Wolcott, who’d been the Smythes’ butler since Thomas and I had been in leading strings, observed me solemnly. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Wolcott. Any word on when Captain Smythe will arrive?”

“We’re expecting him by the end of the week.”

“And his condition?”

He shook his head. “We’ve heard nothing other than what I’m sure Lady Eugenia must have conveyed to you.”

I nodded. “Where is she?”

“Her Ladyship is in the conservatory.”

“I’ll go to her.”

“Yes, sir. If you’ll permit me to take your bag?”

“Thank you.” I handed him my kitbag and my hat, and removed my overcoat, which he took, as well. “My usual room?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” I smoothed down my jacket sleeves, gave a tug to its hem, and then went through the house that had been my second home.

I stood in the doorway and watched as Lady Eugenia moved from one variety of flower to another. A basket dangled over her arm, and she filled it with sweet-smelling blooms which wouldn’t have survived the winter chill.

“Lady Eugenia.”

“Warrick! I’m so pleased to see you.” She set down the basket and secateurs before she came to me, her arms outstretched. “You’re looking…” She rested her hands on my forearms and studied my eyes. “No, you’re not looking well. What’s wrong?”

“Nightmares. Just nightmares.”

“Shell shock. I understand. That war.” She pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, then went to the wall and rang for Wolcott. “I’m not sure when Thomas will arrive, so I have fresh flowers waiting for him every day,” she murmured, gesturing toward the basket with its many blooms.

“That’s very kind of you.”

She gave a wistful smile. “I’m his mother.”

My own mother had never done anything like that for me.

Footsteps announced the arrival of the butler.

“Milady?”

“We’ll have tea here, please.”

He bowed and left.

“What news of Thomas?”

“Nothing more than I told you in my letter. And may I thank you for coming so promptly?”

“Thomas is my friend. I could do nothing less.”

“No.” She patted my hand, hooked her hand through my arm, and urged me toward the small table that was just large enough for two. “Bertie is here also. He’s out riding the grounds. Thomas will be pleased to see him—” She bit her lip. “I’ll have to get used to avoiding words like that…”

It was my turn to pat her arm. “If I may make a suggestion? Don’t treat him differently in any way.”

She was silent for a moment, then sighed. “You’re right. It wouldn’t do. He would detest it above all things to be thought less than he was.”

She seated herself, and I sat across from her.

“As I was saying, Thomas will be pleased to see his brother, but it will mean everything to him that you’re here.”

“That damned war. I beg your pardon, Lady Eugenia.”

“Not at all. I’ve often cursed it myself.”

I couldn’t prevent a small smile. She was such an elegant lady, it was hard to remember at times that she had a fiery temper and wasn’t afraid to release it.

Just then, Wolcott rolled in the tea trolley and set it beside Lady Eugenia.

“Thank you, Wolcott,” she said.

“Will there be anything else, milady?”

“No.”

He bowed himself out of the room.

Lady Eugenia poured me a cup of tea and did the same for herself while I added two sugar cubes and a splash of milk.

“Mrs River’s biscuits?”

“Yes, please.”

I helped myself to one and finished it in two bites. “And as delicious as ever.” I took two more and put them on a small plate. “How is everything at home?”

“Thorny Walk is still under covers.”

“I can understand that. John has his career in Town, and from what I’ve heard, Father enjoyed his stay there as well as he worked for the government during the war. But you know that.” I rubbed a hand over my face, and she patted my shoulder. “Once Thomas is more himself, I’ll return home for a few days and help Father set it to rights.”

She sighed again. “I assume your father hasn’t contacted you?”

“About…?”

“You’re right about Sir John enjoying his work very much—so much that he’s decided to remain in Town.”

“Doing what?” Abruptly it occurred to me. “Father is going to continue working for the government?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Well, once I’ve demobilised, I’ll return to Thorny Walk. I won’t mind being on my own. I can open a few of the rooms—” There would be nothing drawing me back to Montreal. Mother…I sighed. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she’d written to me during the war. However, if I remained in England, I could open my own architectural firm in Town. I knew how to drive, and if I purchased one of those speedy little vehicles, travelling to London shouldn’t be too tasking…

“I’m afraid that won’t be feasible,” Lady Eugenia said. The corners of her mouth turned down. “Really, this was not well done of your father. Sir John sees no reason for the house to remain empty—”

“It wouldn’t be…”

She held up her hand, stopping me. “He plans to let it to various government officials.”

I remained silent for a moment, digesting the information she’d just given me. Then I sighed and said, “Of course. It will be good for John’s career.” I drummed my fingers on my thigh. “Well, it seems Thorny Walk is no longer home, not for now at any rate.”

“You’ll stay at Greenbriers, though, won’t you?”

“I will, until Thomas no longer needs me.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Lady Eugenia.” I reached across the table and took her hand. “I could do no less for you or for Thomas. You’ve both been very good to me.”

“But you know you’re welcome to stay as long as you choose. You’re as much a son to me as Thomas is.”

“Thank you,” I said again. Afterward…well, I’d wait to see how things went. I had a sudden base thought. With Cutter no longer in the picture…perhaps I would have a chance with Thomas, and it wouldn’t matter that Thorny Walk was no longer my home, because Greenbriers would be.

* * * *

It was the middle of the afternoon two days later when a coach drew up to the front door. A little maid who had seen the approach from a second story window went through the house, shrieking Captain Thomas was home.

The entire household hurried to meet him in the entryway of Fortescue Manor, and although there were a couple of men—also in uniform—accompanying him, he insisted on walking in on his own.

My God, he was so thin! His uniform hung on him. The tan he’d acquired in Africa was fading, but even so, the white bandage that protected his empty eye socket was a stark contrast.

“Mother. Warrick.”

I flinched to hear him call me by my given name.

“It’s good to be…” His legs buckled under him, and while three of us bolted to catch him, I was the one who caught him before he smashed his head on the marble floor.

“Warrick!” his mother cried.

“It’s all right, Lady Eugenia. I’ve got him.” I’d leave her to deal with the other men.

Thomas was a dead weight, but he was in my arms, and I carried him up to his room.

“Young Sayer. So pretty,” he mumbled against my throat. “Sorry, Arch. Don’t know how I could look at anyone else when I’ve got you.”

“Hush.” I laid him down on his bed.

The door was still open, and Wolcott entered. “I brought up a pitcher of lemonade.” He placed it on a chest of drawers. “May I help you, Lieutenant? Removing his boots, perhaps?”

“Thank you—that would be kind.” I was winded from carrying Thomas up the stairs; I wasn’t too proud to accept help in getting him stripped off.

Between the two of us, we pulled off those sleek, black boots that hugged his calves like a second skin. We manoeuvred him gently one way and the other, and soon had him divested of jacket, shirt, trousers, and socks.

“Shall we leave on his undergarments?”

“I think that would be a good idea. It will keep him from catching a chill.” I exchanged a tired smile with Wolcott. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome, sir. And may I say again how very glad we all are that you’re here to help Lady Eugenia look after the Captain.”

“I’ll take care of him. I’ll ring if I need any help.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll bring you a tray later, shall I?”

“Yes.”

He bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I drew up a chair beside Thomas’s bed and waited for him to regain some sort of coherence.

* * * *

The afternoon drifted into evening. Wolcott brought me my dinner, but I toyed with the roast lamb and watched my friend.

He began talking in his sleep, and no one needed to hear this. I set aside my tray and went to the door and locked it, then returned to Thomas’s side and sank down in the chair.

Apparently he’d forgotten about assuring Cutter he had eyes only for him. He rambled on about the courageous young man, about his blue eyes and sun-streaked hair.

My stomach turned over, and for a second I thought I was about to lose what little dinner I had managed to eat. It seemed Thomas had lusted after that Sayer person, even determining to go so far as to lure the boy into his bed and away from the man who was Sayer’s lover.

What did this Sayer have that drove Thomas to forget he had a lover of whom he was very fond, to say the least?

I moistened my lips and watched as Thomas shivered and thrashed on the bed.

He’s cold, I told myself, and I rose, intending to draw the covers over him. I brushed against his thigh, and he moaned.

“Please, Arch, please spank me. I’ve been naughty and need to be punished. Remind me I promised not to interfere.”

I froze in shock, only then realising his actions had been driven by voluptuous thoughts.

Anger flared through me. Something I had planned for my friend—turning his bum a rosy-red from my palm—had been done to him by someone else…someone who wasn’t me.

And then anger faded and I was ashamed. How many men had I played with, never giving a thought to Thomas—and afterward never giving a thought to them?

I tucked the covers around him, and he finally sank into a peaceful slumber.

“All right, Thomas,” I whispered. “You are never going to learn from me what you revealed this evening.”

But I couldn’t help rubbing a restless hand over the front of my trousers while I watched over him and imagined how it might have been if that archduke hadn’t been assassinated, starting that damned war.

Thomas…

I shied away from the thought of having him in my own bed. For some reason, that made me…uncomfortable.

No, I’d secure Thomas’s hands to the headboard of this very bed with no room for play, and I’d have him on his hands and knees, his arse at the perfect angle to be spanked. Later I’d tuck pillows under his belly to make him comfortable, but not just yet. Now he’d need to realise whether he was comfortable or no was dependant on my whims.

Thomas would be hard, precome oozing from his c**k, and he’d be wriggling his lovely white arse in an attempt to find friction to soothe his c**k. I’d swat him—just a teasing smack to get his attention—and order him to hold still.

He’d give a sob and tug on the silk ties I’d used to fasten him to the bed.

“Obey me,” I’d order him in a harsh tone, and he’d quiver but hold still.

I’d smile cruelly. You won’t be able to maintain that position for long, my lovely boy, I’d think to myself, and once you no longer can, you’ll feel my palm against your arse in earnest.

I’d begin his punishment by running my palms over his lightly-furred arse cheeks, letting him think he was getting off lightly. I’d trace the crevasse that separated those muscular globes, then reach beneath him to fondle his testicles, dragging my fingernails over them lightly.

He’d be moaning steadily now, struggling not to move, but at any moment he’d lose the battle, and I’d bring my hand down hard. Left cheek? Or right? It wouldn’t matter because both would be getting the same attention.

I’d nudge his legs further apart, revealing that pink rosebud of an anus. The sight of my eventual target would push me closer to the edge, and I couldn’t have that, not just then—he’d still need to feel the full force of my hand.

And so I’d get down to business, feeling a tingling in my palm, red from the smacks I administered.

That would be when he’d start begging, and the sounds of his whimpers and pleas would enflame my senses. I’d take a dollop of lotion and smear it over his arsehole, then slide three fingers into him, and he’d gasp in shock at the intrusion. I’d finger-f**k his arse with one hand while I continued spanking him with the other hand. Soon he’d be pleading with me to f**k him with my c**k. And when his arse was hot and red and marked with the print of my palm, that was when I’d put the pillows under him to prop him up, slick up my c**k, and shove into him hard enough to make him howl…

Abruptly I came to my senses, and I bit my lip and backed away from the bed. My c**k ached, and if I didn’t retreat to the bedroom I used whenever I stayed at Fortescue Manor and stroke myself to completion, I was going to climax right there and then.

I bolted for the door, but I made sure to close it quietly behind me before I raced to my room. And it only took a handful of strokes for me to climax.