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reopens old wounds and hurts.»

Minshom closed his fingers around Robert’s throat. «And if

that is what I want? Don’t you want to remember how it feels to

lose so that you’ll never want to be in that place again?»

«My lord...»

Minshom backed off and fisted his hands at his sides.

«Fight me, you bastard. Fight me, because without me in your

life, you could go and suck David Gray’s cock all day long.»

Robert sighed. «Don’t do this.»

«Do what? Remind you of what you have lost? How it feels to

have the lover you want moving inside you, pleasuring your cock,

moaning into your mouth, instead of having to deal with…»

«Stop it, Minshom. Just shut the hell up.»

Minshom opened his eyes wide. «You know how to stop me.

There is only one way or I’ll keep talking, keep reminding you of

what you’ve given up.»

«Fuck you.» Robert held his gaze and stepped away from the

wall, fists raised. Minshom closed his eyes as the first punch

landed on the side of his head, almost knocking him over. He

kept his hands by his sides as Robert hit him again and again

until he could no longer stand and could taste his own blood in

his mouth. He fell to his knees and Robert came down with him.

Pain exploded in his chest as he took another punch.

«Are we done now?» Robert sounded curiously emotional, his

voice thick and hoarse. «Can I leave?»

Minshom managed to open one eye. «You are the winner.

You know what comes next.»

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Robert used Minshom’s shoulder to stagger to his feet. «No.»

«You don’t want your prize?»

«God damn you, no! This is wrong, this is... unhealthy.»

«You don’t want to fuck me?» Minshom rolled onto his back

and cupped his cock, squeezed hard enough to hurt, to torment,

to punish, and felt his body’s automatic response.

Robert braced one arm against the wall. «No. I... can’t do this

anymore. I can’t hurt you. I’m sorry.» He turned and walked out,

slamming the old wooden door behind him.

Minshom stayed where he was and stared up at the ceiling.

He felt none of his usual exhilaration after the fight, none of

the intense need to be sexually dominated either. What the hell

was wrong with him? He winced as his tongue swept over his

bloodied lower lip.

All he could think about was going upstairs, finding his way to

Jane’s bedroom and fucking her just as he was—bowed, bloody

and bruised. Would she welcome him between her thighs, hold

him close and offer him another way to forget the past? He’d

married her with that hope, had foolishly believed she would help

him conquer his demons, only to have their son die in his arms ..

So he’d turned back to his other forbidden pleasures, used

them to replace her because men didn’t have children, men

weren’t soft. Men couldn’t break your heart when they cried as if

they would never stop over the death of a child.

Minshom rolled onto his stomach and groaned. He had to get

himself up the stairs and into bed before anyone noticed his

absence. He had to stop thinking such soft, foolish thoughts and

remember where they had led him—to lying in a cellar begging

his servant to fight him and fuck him.

God damn it. He grabbed hold of one of the shelves and

hauled himself to his feet. If he kept in close contact with the

wall, he was sure he could make it up the stairs. He got as far as

the door and opened it. Robert stood in the shadows outside

leaning against the wall. Silently he offered Minshom his shoulder

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to lean on. Without another word. Minshom placed his trembling

fingers on Robert’s arm and allowed him to lead him to bed.

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14

Minshom breakfasted early to avoid Jane and any potential

questions about the stiffness of his movements and the bruises

on his face. It was a relatively fine day so he decided to ride to

visit his bankers rather than go in his carriage. The horse ride

would either loosen his tight muscles or make them worse, and

he could always claim that his horse had butted him. He didn’t

really care which excuse he used, just that he would have one if

anyone asked.

He sipped his coffee. Not that anyone apart from Jane would

dare to ask him how he did. He wasn’t the sort of man who

inspired intimacy in others or invited personal questions.

After finishing his breakfast, he stepped out into the bright

sunshine and adjusted the angle of his hat. He heard the faint

jingle of his horse’s bit and the clatter of horseshoes on the

cobbled pathway as his horse was brought up from the mews at

the back of the house.

«Lord Minshom.»

«Yes?»

He shaded his eyes from the glare and turned to the other

direction, tried to keep his expression blank as he focused on yet

another unwelcome visitor.

«I’m not sure if you’ll recognize me, but I’m Major Lord

Thomas Wesley.»

«I remember you.»

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Unwillingly Minshom studied the bronzed features of his old

childhood friend. Wesley wore his army uniform and his face was

lined by the harsher climes of India. His brown eyes remained as

direct as ever and were fixed on Minshom.

«You remember me but you’d prefer not to.»

«I’d say that was fair.»

Major Wesley half-smiled. «I can understand that; we hardly

parted as friends, did we? But I would appreciate the opportunity

to speak with you.»

«And if I don’t wish to do that?»

«I can’t force you to talk to me.» Major Wesley hesitated. «But

I would hope you could find it in your heart to forgive me.»

«Forgive you for what?»

«You know what. But it is scarcely a conversation I wish to

have in front of your groom.»

Minshom looked over his shoulder, saw his horse and one of

his stable hands already waiting patiently. «If I agree to meet you

at Madame Helene’s House of Pleasure this afternoon at four,

will you agree that this will be our only meeting and not bother

me again?» Minshom handed Wesley a discreet white card that

contained Madame’s address.

«If that is what you wish.» Major Wesley shrugged. «Although

I expect to be returning to India within a month, so you don’t

have to worry about me hanging around.»

«I’m not worried.»

Major Wesley smiled right into Minshom’s eyes. «Of course

you aren’t. What do you have to fear from me?» He gestured at

the houses. «This is an excellent area for a home. I must mention

it to an army acquaintance of mine who is looking to rent

somewhere this summer for his family.»

«Indeed.»

«You chose not to live in Swansford House then?»

Minshom had no intention of pursuing any topic of

conversation that related in any way to his father. The thought of

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living amongst his parents’ possessions made him shudder. «It is

rented out. Good morning, Major Wesley.»

«Good morning. I’ll see you at four.»

Minshom nodded and turned to mount his horse, aware of his

visitor still watching him as he gathered the reins in his gloved

hands. He kicked the horse with unnecessary force, which made

his groom suck in his breath disapprovingly, and headed off

toward the nearest exit from the square.

What the hell did Wesley mean about forgiving him? Surely it

should be the other way round, as Minshom had ended up the

victor? The whole idea of discussing their shared past made

Minshom nauseated. Men didn’t need to do that—they weren’t

like women. But he knew that Wesley would not let the matter go

until it had been settled to his satisfaction. He had always been a

stickler for the truth, and unlike most of Minshom’s

contemporaries, more than willing to apologize for his faults.

And really, what was there to worry about? Only a weak man was

afraid of the past.

Minshom slowed his pace as he approached the main

thoroughfare and squeezed his horse past a cart carrying

vegetables for the insatiable city market. But he was weak, his

father had always said so, and he was afraid to discuss the past.

So how was he going to survive the meeting? Challenge Wesley

to a duel and shut him up that way?

Minshom shook his head and guided his horse to the side of

the street where his bank was. He was overreacting; this was all

Jane’s fault. She’d made him start to doubt himself again. He

could easily see off Wesley. He’d done it before and he’d do it

again. He dismounted and headed into the bank, glad for once

that the legal complexities of running his father’s estates were

immense and required his full attention. He had no time to worry

about his forthcoming meeting now.

Jane ate her toast and slit the seal of the note Emily had sent

her. There was no sign of Blaize, but from the state of the

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crumpled newspaper by his chair, he’d obviously eaten and left.

She wasn’t surprised. He knew he’d ruined her evening and was

probably expecting her to rally her forces and confront him over

the coffee pots.

«Oh my goodness, poor Emily and George.» Jane finished

reading the note and waved to the lone footman stationed by the

door to come closer. ‘Will you go and see if Mr. Brown is

available and ask him to come and speak to me?»

«Yes, my lady.»

While she waited, Jane finished her toast and drank her coffee.

She assumed Robert hadn’t gone out with Blaize; he’d seemed

out of charity with his master as well last night.

«Good morning, Lady Minshom.»

Jane’s smile dimmed as she looked up at Robert, who looked

rather pale, as if he hadn’t slept well.

«Are you all right?»

«Yes, my lady.»

Jane waited to see if he would elaborate and then rose to her

feet. «I had a note from Lady Millhaven about her father-in-law’s

death. She has asked me to go and sit with her for a while. As

Lord Minshom has gone out, are you free to accompany me?»

«The Earl of Millhaven died?»

«Yes, of a stroke, I understand. The whole family was able to

be with him when he passed away.»

«I knew the earl was sick, my lady.» Robert shifted his feet. «I

was commandeered to deliver a message to Captain Gray last

night at the ball.»

«Oh, of course, he’s David’s father too.» Jane sighed. «How

sad for them all.»

«Indeed, my lady. Now let me go and call the carriage and get

my hat.»

Jane went to put on her bonnet and cloak. Emily would be a

countess now, her husband George the new earl. How would

that feel? The sadness of death combined with the excitement of

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finally becoming the head of his family. She wondered how

Blaize would react in similar circumstances. Would he be

delighted or devastated?

«Good morning, Emily. I’m so sorry.»

Robert watched as Lady Minshom drew the new countess into

her arms and hugged her tight. Lady Millhaven looked haggard,

her eyes red from weeping, her face lined.

«Thank you for coming, Jane. I appreciate it. Thank you for

bringing her, Mr. Brown.»

Robert bowed to them both. «I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,

if that is all right, my lady?»

He turned and walked slowly down the stairs until he reached

the basement where the kitchen was situated. The greasy smell of

lamb cooking assailed his nostrils and he swallowed hard. The

butler was seated at the table drinking a mug of coffee, his

spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he read the morning

paper.

«Good morning again, Mr. Brown, and what can I do for

«Her ladyship asked me to wait down here until Lady

Minshom is ready to leave. I hope I won’t be in the way.»

«Not at all, Mr. Brown, take a seat and share some of this

excellent coffee.»

«Thanks, Mr. Austen, I will. I’m not sure how long Lady

Minshom will be.»

«Well, with all due respect, the ladies do like to talk, don’t

they, and on this sad day probably more than ever.»

Robert sat down and accepted the mug of coffee and sweet

smelling bread roll the smiling cook placed in front of him. «So

all the family was there last night when he died?»

«Well, all except Mr. Edward Gray—he’s still in France

dealing with that holy mess Napoleon created. But the others

were all here.»

«Captain Gray got here in time then?»

«He did, why do you ask?»

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Robert shrugged. «I was at a ball last night, and as I know him

by sight, I was asked to pass on a message to him to come

home.»

«He was here. In fact, he’s still here. I persuaded him to go to

bed rather than trying to return to his lodgings when he was

obviously so upset.» Mr. Austen lowered his voice. «Not that I

ever thought he was particularly fond of his father, if you know

what I mean. It was quite a surprise to see him so moved.»

«They weren’t close?»