A Proper Lover (Ganymede Quartet Book 2) (41 page)

“You
are
sore,” Henry said, concern and a faint accusation in his tone. “Tell the truth, Martin. Did I hurt you?”

Martin smiled and shook his head. “I
am
a little sore today, Sir, but I’m fine. I promise you, I don’t mind it at all. We had such a good day, don’t you think?”

It had been an amazing day, a momentous day. “Yes,” Henry said. His whole body was flooded with heat at the memories of everything they’d done, everything they’d shared, and the way it had made him feel, not just in his body but in his heart. “It was the
best
day.”

“What about you, Sir? Are you sore?”

“It stings when I pee,” Henry admitted in a low voice. “But I don’t care because it just reminds me of everything we did.”

Martin laughed. “Well, that’s how I feel about my ass, Sir.”

They were at the Briggses’ front door. Patrick let them in and took their coats.

“Mr. Briggs is expecting you,” Patrick informed them. “You’re welcome to go upstairs.”

Louis was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, a surly expression on his face, slumped back against the footboard of his bed, arranging a handful of toy soldiers with the air of a cat toying with a mouse.

“They’re Teddy’s,” he explained. “I took them away from him.”

“Why?” Henry asked, baffled.

Louis shrugged. “I felt like it.” He flicked at a soldier with his fingernail and the whole lot of them fell like dominos, scattered on the floor. He looked up at Henry and his eyes were full of anguish.

Henry sat on the floor beside Louis; Martin went to sit with Peter a few feet distant.

Henry didn’t have to ask Louis any questions; he began speaking without preamble. “It was pretty awful, Henry. She cried a lot,” Louis said, sounding remorseful. “She wouldn’t take the money, so I gave it to her friend to give to her later.” He hesitated and sighed. “I don’t know, Henry. Maybe I made a mistake.”

Henry felt almost positive that he had, but again did not say so. “Well, you know you weren’t ever going to be able to marry her,” he pointed out, hoping to make Louis feel better. “I know you had fun with her, but it’s probably better that you got out before things got too serious.”

“That’s the sort of girl I ought to be with though,” Louis said. “Someone who
likes
me, someone who likes sex, someone who’s not always looking over my shoulder to find a more handsome guy.”

“There’ll be girls like that,” Henry promised. “When we’re of an age to think about marriage, there’ll be a girl, I know it.”

“She really liked me,” Louis said, almost in wonderment. “She thought I was funny.” His voice heavy with regret, he said, “And in the end, I treated her like a whore.”

“You know,” Henry suggested hesitantly, scooping up one of the soldiers to fidget with, “I’ve been thinking…doing things James’ way might not be the best for you, actually. You and James are pretty different, after all.”

Louis was quiet a long minute. “You could’ve said something before.” Louis sounded more than a little accusatory. “If I thought
you
were going to do something stupid,
I’d
say something.”

“I didn’t say
stupid
!” Henry insisted. “Just…maybe you didn’t need to treat her that way. Maybe you could’ve just said goodbye nicely, if you had to say goodbye at all.”

“You don’t even think I should have broken it off with her, do you?” Now Louis sounded blatantly hostile.

Henry was beginning to wish he hadn’t come over. “I-I didn’t say that, either. If it was time to end it, you’d know better than I would. You don’t need to take your mood out on me.”

Louis seemed to recognize the truth in what Henry said. “Sorry. I just feel like I made a bunch of mistakes, one after another, and now I feel bad about hurting her feelings.”

“Could you make it up to her?” Henry stood the soldiers up in a row.

“I doubt it,” Louis told him. “She made it pretty clear she doesn’t want to speak to me ever again.”

“Well…” Henry didn’t know what to tell him. “You won’t make this mistake next time, I guess.”

“
If
there’s a next time,” Louis said darkly. “I should’ve just stuck with Peter. That’s what he’s
for
, after all, and I don’t have to have a bunch of feelings about it, either.”

Henry darted a glance at Peter, who seemed unaffected by this statement. This was, of course, certainly not Henry’s experience at all, but he supposed it was possible that Louis felt no emotional connection to Peter, at least no connection related to sex. “Sure,” he agreed. “That’s what slaves are for.”

They all four played poker for a short while, but Louis was restless and distracted.

“It’s your turn, Sir,” Peter said gently. “Are you going to bet, Sir?”

Louis laid down his cards. “I don’t want to play any more, I don’t think. I’m sorry, Henry. I’m just feeling so down.” He sat slumped so low he was practically lying on his back.

“Do you want me to go?”

“No, stay. Talk to me. Do you know any gossip?”

Henry did not. Louis was the one who heard gossip. Henry was silent, racking his brain for any tidbits of interest.

“I-I know some gossip, Sir,” Martin suggested in a nervous voice. “It’s only slave gossip, of course, Sir, but maybe you’ll find it amusing.”

“Oh?” Louis lifted his head and looked a little interested. “About which slave?”

“Alex, Sir. Mr. Maxwell’s slave.”

“You don’t like Alex, do you?” Louis recalled.

“N-no, Sir,” Martin admitted. “We don’t get along.”

“Do you know what gossip he’s talking about?” Louis asked Peter.

“I think so, Sir, but I’ll let him tell it.”

“Well, Sir,” Martin said, sitting up straighter, “as you may already know, Alex asked Mr. Maxwell for permission to court a girl who belongs to another house and Mr. Maxwell said no, which of course is his right. Alex wasn’t at all happy about this—”

“He wasn’t, Sir,” Peter put in. “He said some very disrespectful things where everyone could hear.”

“Like what?” Louis asked, definitely interested.

Peter’s face reddened. “It was extremely inappropriate, Sir.”

“Just say it, Peter. Tell me what he said.”

Peter looked very much as if he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “He said things about Mr. Maxwell’s performance in bed, Sir. Of course, it’s not Mr. Maxwell’s job to please Alex, Sir, but Alex said that he
didn’t
.”

“Really?” Louis seemed intrigued and quite frankly delighted by this bit of information.

“So Alex wasn’t happy at all, Sir,” Martin continued. “He became very resentful of Mr. Maxwell and began doing little things, little acts of defiance, to see if Mr. Maxwell would notice and reprimand him. Things like mismatching shirt studs and cuff links, or deliberately giving him wrong answers for homework.”

“So did David notice?”

“Mr. Maxwell thought they were honest mistakes, Sir, but in the meantime Alex was telling everyone at school exactly what he’d done, trying to get back at Mr. Maxwell for denying him the privilege of courting this girl.”

“Do all of you talk so freely about your masters?” Louis asked. “I’ve got to say, I don’t like that idea at all.”

“We all share things with our particular friends, Sir,” Peter admitted. “But most of us are careful what we share even then. We don’t want our masters gossiped about. Alex practically invited gossip, Sir, going on like he did.”

“Mr. Maxwell was very tolerant of Alex’s ‘mistakes,’ Sir, and so Alex had to try harder to get his attention,” Martin continued. “It was very childish and immature of him, I must say. He waited until Mr. Maxwell was asleep and left his room to go spend the night with one of the Maxwell chambermaids, and they both got thoroughly drunk on liquor they’d stolen, and when Mr. Maxwell woke up, Alex wasn’t there.”

Henry imagined waking up and finding Martin gone; he would be frantic. Perhaps David wasn’t as attached to Alex as Henry was to Martin, but it must have been disconcerting at the very least.

“What do you think he was trying to accomplish?” Louis asked. “Did he
want
a whipping?”

“He doesn’t make a lot of sense to me, Sir,” Martin said. “I don’t know if he even considered what might happen. As you know, I
don’t
get along with him, and his incomprehensible behavior is one reason.” He considered the situation a moment, then added, “I think he just wanted to hurt Mr. Maxwell. It’s quite a betrayal just for him to have told the rest of us slaves about the sex they have, and then trying to make Mr. Maxwell look like a chump by deceiving him and
talking
about it…it would never be
my
way, Sir, nor Peter’s.”

“No, of course not, you’re good slaves,” Louis agreed. “So did David have to hunt him down? How did this all play out?”

“They searched all over the house for him, Sir, Mr. Maxwell along with some of the other Maxwell slaves, and they found him still drunk and naked with this girl. Mr. Maxwell was furious, of course, and dragged Alex out of the girl’s bed.”

“What day was this?” Louis asked. “Remember, Henry, there was that day when David missed English and showed up for Mr. Granger’s class in a foul mood? That must have been it.”

Henry did remember. “He wouldn’t tell anyone why he was late. He’s got more sense than his slave, then, I guess.” Henry turned to address Martin and Peter. “Because Alex had to have told you all of this himself, right?”

“Yes, he did, Sir. He was bragging about it,” Martin said. “Mr. Maxwell Senior decided that it wasn’t worth punishing Alex over, so he felt like he’d gotten away with something.”

“It sounds like he’s crazy,” Louis noted. “Actually not right in the head. I feel bad for David having a slave who’s nuts.”

“I’ve
never
liked Alex, Sir,” Martin reminded them, his tone a little snooty.

“What house is he from, again?” Louis asked. “I’m trying to picture his mark…”

“Nereus, Sir,” said Peter.

“Nereus is a newer house, of course, Sir,” Martin said in the same judgmental tone. “But I know they go through the same sort of psychological testing that Ganymede slaves do, so he must have been very crafty to pass.”

“We had to pass tests, too, Sir,” Peter added. “Everyone does. No one is supposed to act like Alex is acting, no matter which House he’s from.”

Louis seemed quite cheered. “This is very interesting information,” he told the slaves. “Why didn’t either of you tell us before?”

Martin looked abashed. “We really shouldn’t have told you at all, Sir. It’s not done to spread gossip about masters—”

“Even when the slave is asking for it, like Alex is doing, Sir,” Peter interjected.

“It’s not done, Sir,” Martin continued, “because we don’t want our own masters talked about.”

“Martin’s very careful anyway, Sir,” Peter noted. “He never talks about Mr. Blackwell at all.” Peter darted a glance at Henry and gave him a quick smile. “And I never have anything to talk about with you, Sir, since you just tell all of your friends everything anyway.” He laughed and Louis joined him. “But some of the others are not so discreet.”

“Like who?” Louis asked. “Tell me more!” Obviously, this gossip was cheering Louis up a great deal.

Henry also wanted to know more but felt shy about saying so. It was a relief to think that Martin really didn’t talk about him with the other slaves, but it also reminded him that Martin
could
, and if Martin were indiscreet, Henry’s life would be ruined.

“M-maybe I could tell you some things without using names, Sir? Would that be all right? I would feel better about betraying confidences if I could do it that way.” Martin was understandably hesitant; he was, after all, betraying his friends for the sake of entertaining Louis.

Louis thought on it a moment. “Well, it’s not as fun that way, but I guess it would be all right,” he allowed.

Martin also took a moment to gather his thoughts. “There’s one of your friends, Sirs, who makes his slave compliment him on his cock, making him say, ‘Oh, Sir, your cock is so big,’ and ‘Oh, Sir, your cock is so beautiful,’ and makes him pretend to choke on it, but of course his cock isn’t big in the least. Quite to the contrary, Sir, and he doesn’t come anywhere near close to satisfying his slave.” After a brief pause, Martin added, “Of course, it’s not a master’s job to satisfy the slave, Sir, but most
do
at least
try
.”

Louis snorted in amusement.

“Lots of the masters want to be reassured their cocks are impressive, Sir,” Peter pointed out.

“I’m not worried on that account,” Louis said, laughing and clearly bragging. Henry laughed with him but of course gave no indications as to the nature of his own cock, satisfactory or otherwise, and Martin maintained a polite, bland expression while the others chuckled.

“Another of your friends is worried that having sex with his companion will turn him into an invert, Sir,” Martin said. “He’s very concerned that he’ll get too accustomed to seeing a boy’s body during sex and won’t be attracted to a woman when he finally has one in front of him. So he bought his slave a gown, Sir, and makes him dress up and paint his face before they have sex—”

“He makes him simper and act coy, Sir, like how he imagines women act,” Peter added. “He even calls him by a girl’s name sometimes, can you imagine?”

Louis looked at Peter. “Petra,” he said. He turned to look at Martin. “Martina.” Then he began to laugh again, deep belly laughs, and clutched his sides. Louis was still rolling on the floor when Peter began to speak again.

“Did you know, Sirs, that there’s at least one master who
kisses
his slave?” Peter said. He caught Martin’s eye and said, “You know who I’m thinking of,” and Martin nodded reluctantly, seeming a little uncomfortable with the tack the conversation was taking.

“Really?” Louis was riveted, definitely interested. “And the slave
told
you?”

“He only told because he wanted advice, Sir,” Peter explained. “He doesn’t like it at all, but he doesn’t want to get his master in trouble with his family, and if he told the master’s father or the father’s companion, then his master would definitely be in hot water. He just wanted advice on how to get his master to stop.”