Thief of Hearts

Chapter 4-1

Chapter 4

Breakfast was a civilised affair. David strolled down mid-morning, having spent much more of the night than he had intended exploring both the house and then unexpectedly, the delights of Jeremy Naylor’s body. David shivered when he thought of him and the spontaneous, joyous way he gave of himself. Of being held tightly in lean, wiry arms that were a lot stronger than they looked. He allowed himself a moment of recollection, then put it to one side, thankful he would now be able to ignore the surprising rush of arousal the young man had evoked.

The footmen were there, as usual, fetching and carrying food and drink whilst the guests ate and chatted, but thankfully, there was no sign of Jeremy. David filled his plate with ham and eggs and accepted a cup of tea. Sir Granville was making arrangements with everyone for a morning of entertainment. The February weather was foul. Freezing, sleeting rain and blowing a gale, so the guests were to be entertained by an array of card games and God alone knew what else. David focused on his food and listened to what his companions were going to be doing. He’d done some judicious wandering to establish the layout of the house, and located the rooms for most of the guests and the best ways to exit the house, he just needed to look at what there were likely to be engaged in. He planned to spend Saturday observing with Sunday being the day to begin his endeavours in earnest before he made a swift departure and headed back to London. He put a piece of toast in his mouth and chewed, savouring the sharp tang of the marmalade.

He chatted to his companions as they ate and kept his gaze on his plate when Jeremy came in carrying a plate of devilled kidneys. He glanced up for a second to see that soft pink flush gracing his cheeks. David speared a piece of ham and cut it into small sections. He now knew Jeremy flushed that beautiful shade of pink when he was aroused as well. And it wasn’t just in his cheeks. David cleared his throat and had to take a sip of tea. He was hot all over again. He was stunned to realise he wanted to go over to Jeremy, sweep all the dishes off the sideboard, bend him over and…he coughed again, enough so he had several offers of aid. He waved a hand and buried his face in his handkerchief. Dear God, he needed to pull himself together.

Lord Coatsworth sent him a sympathetic smile as he sat beside him and tucked into his breakfast.

“How are you at piquet, old chap?” he asked once David had righted himself.

“Bit of a dab hand, actually,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. “Happy to give you a game.”

“Hah! You’ll be sorry. I’ll have you know I’m reigning champion!”

David laughed, relieved to have something normal and unthreatening to focus on. He needed to get his mind back on the task in hand and chatting to Coatsworth was just the thing. They moved and made room for Lord and Lady Framling when they came into the room. They were settled in and served. Lady Framling applied herself with gusto to a plate of the kidneys.

“Have we met?” she said, dabbing at her lips and frowning at David.

David hesitated a moment but pushed aside the acerbic comment that sprung to his lips and gave her a friendly smile instead. “We have indeed, my Lady. Last night.” He kept his tone light and faintly apologetic.

“Hmph,” was all she vouchsafed.

They ate in silence for a few moments.

“Are you married?”

David glanced up at her, pausing in the act of bringing his tea cup to his lips. “Not yet,” he said cautiously, then took a sip and replaced his cup and made sure it sat centrally in its saucer.

“So, how come a handsome lad like you isn’t wed yet?” Coatsworth said, dabbing at his lips with his napkin. “Isn’t it about time you were filling your nurseries?”

David smiled at Coatsworth. “I’ve a little time to think about matrimony yet. Not quite thirty, you know.”

Framling gave him a long look. “Don’t think I know your family,” he said. His tone was pointed.

“My parents died some time ago.”

“Sorry to hear that, my boy,” Coatsworth said.

Framling persisted. “But who were they? I might have known your father.”

David smiled and set off into his well-rehearsed patter. “My father was Alfred Lambert. The Lamberts from Winchester…”

Framling cut in before he could say any more. “Never heard of him.” He looked David up and down and turned pointedly to Coatsworth. “You might like to see my new pair of bays,” he said. Lady Framling gave him a withering look.

Lord Coatsworth talked horses for a little while, then smiled expansively at David. “So, I’ve a fight on my hands for the piquet title, have I?” The sympathy in his eyes made David uncomfortable. Coatsworth was that rare creature from the upper echelons of society, a decent man. He wouldn’t be visiting their rooms come Sunday, that was for sure. He looked at Framling’s pinched, judgmental face and smiled to himself.

They finished breakfast, and most of the guests disappeared. David went and stood by the window with his cup and saucer, sipping as he looked out over the rain lashed gardens as the last of the guests departed. He enjoyed the quiet for a few moments, then walked to the sideboard and placed the cup carefully. He was about to leave when Jeremy came in to clear the last of the dishes. They were alone for a moment.

It was awkward. “How are you?” David asked after a moment.

Jeremy looked at him with such aching want his chest hurt. “Fine. You?”

“Fine.” David nodded and looked at the floor then back up.

Jeremy’s breathing hitched, and he licked his lips. “Want to do it again?”

David stared at his mouth.

“I’m free at two o’clock for fifteen minutes. I could come to your room.”

“I…”

“Lovely waistcoat.” Jeremy’s hand darted out and briefly brushed the front of the silver waistcoat and David was hard as marble and barely able to breathe. The urge to tear his clothes of and taste him was…

“Two.” He darted away leaving David staring after him.