Thief of Hearts

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

The door closed as Jeremy left the room, leaving David in a state of extreme arousal and complete shock. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. His rule about never bedding the staff was long standing. A cardinal rule. One he had never broken. He never bothered the staff. Never. They had enough to contend with without having to fend off people who could ruin their lives with a nod. But not only that, he was very rarely spurned because he had made it his business to be good at reading people. Good at seeing what they wanted and giving it to them. Jeremy Naylor had thoroughly trounced him by asking for a kiss. His third rule. No kissing. Far, far too intimate and inevitably left the recipient bent on attempting a return match.

David groaned. The wretch had left him high and dry. His body was so hard it hurt. David stared at the door for a moment, then made an irritated sound, unbuttoned his falls and pulled out a handkerchief. It barely took a couple of tugs until he was spending. His heart stuttered as pleasure ripped through him, annoying in both its intensity and his inability to banish the thought of Jeremy Naylor with his tall, slender body, flushed cheeks, and violet eyes.

He sat for a little while until his breathing returned to normal. This was a complication he most certainly did not need. He had business to attend to. He shook himself, restored his clothing, tamed his hair, and headed back to the party, thankful Naylor hadn’t taken him up on his offer as it would have been quite ridiculous as well as completely inappropriate. He composed himself and slid back into the room. The Dowager glanced at him and winked from the other side of the room. He smiled at her. Fortunately, he wasn’t given to flushing in the way Jeremy did, but had he been of that ilk he would surely have turned bright red.

“Ah, Lambert, there you are.” Lord Coatsworth hailed him. “Where were you. I wanted you to ask your opinion.” Coatsworth was a good sort. Older than him, as most at the gathering were, but the man was straightforward. Enjoyed horses, good cigars, and had a passably pretty wife who looked at him with stars in her eyes. Uncomplicated and pleasant.

“How can I be of service?”

Coatsworth took advantage of the absence of his wife, who was seated with a small group of ladies, and rambled on about finer points of horse management that fortunately, David was able to follow with enthusiasm, being enormously fond of good horseflesh himself. He indulged himself a happy few minutes steeped in conversation about various manly pursuits whilst determinedly not looking at Jeremy Naylor who had returned to his post by the door looking marginally better than he had before.

Coatsworth moved on, leaving David alone for a moment. He raised his glass to his lips and surveyed the group but noted Charnley making his way towards him in a determined fashion. He put his glass down and forced his features to reveal nothing more than boredom. He looked at him with a bland smile.

“Lambert. Good to see you. It’s been a while.” Charnley was taller and five years older than him. He stood too close and held out a hand.

David eyed the proffered limb for a second too long before taking it and shaking limply. “Indeed.”

Charnley observed him closely. “I’ve been trying to speak with you for some time.”

David kept his face blank. Charnley had sent several messages, and left his card a number of times, and David had ignored every one of them. “Was there something you wanted?”

“There is.”

David raised his eyebrows and waited.

“Not here. Perhaps we could talk at some point over the course of the weekend?”

“As you wish.” Over my cold dead body.

Charnley nodded and after giving him a long look, walked away apparently satisfied.

David watched as he went to speak to the handsome Major in regimentals. He said something that made the man look in his direction, so David raised his glass with a nod. Both men looked away and went to speak to another man. A thought occurred to him. Were they government men? He knew Charnley was, but he hadn’t seen the others before. Anger simmered in his gut as he wondered about the invitation to the Fallows party. It was above his normal milieu which now made him wonder if Charnley had anything to do with it. The notion it might have been made him feel foolish, which in turn made him angry. He squashed all the emotion down until he could turn with equanimity and move to speak to someone else. He meandered about the room, until Coatsworth waved him over again, having seemingly been retrieved by his wife. Coatsworth beamed as he joined them and turned to another couple who stood by his side.

“Framling, Lady Framling, let me introduce you to Mr. Lambert. Dashed good chap.”

He went on to introduce Lord Framling, a pompous looking man, probably in his forties, and sharp faced wife who eyed David with disdain. Framling could barely bring himself to acknowledge him. Whilst it wasn’t exactly the cut direct, it was uncomfortable. Coatsworth blustered his way through like the decent chap he was, and his wife chattered merrily. David wondered about staying and passing the time with them simply to annoy Framling, but decided he would rather not ruffle any feathers, so bowed and moved on quickly, avoiding Lord Standish as he did so. A skirmish with him would be simply too much in one evening.

He put his half empty glass down quietly, and a few moments later, headed for Jeremy Naylor.

The lad held out a tray of drinks, so he took one. “Feeling better?” He kept his voice low.

The lad nodded, but his eyes were riveted on David’s lips. David raised the glass and Naylor’s eyes shot up to meet his. He flushed charmingly. David had to drag his eyes from him and return to his perambulation of the room. It took far more effort than it should have to push away the image of flushed cheeks, soft lips, and violet eyes staring hungrily at his mouth.