My True Love Gave to Me (3 page)

BOOK: My True Love Gave to Me
6.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

They would only need one tonight.

Nervousness tightened his gut. He took a deep breath and pushed it aside.
I love him.
“The stable is tucked around back. We’ll need to unhitch the horses ourselves since there aren’t any servants in residence.”

Another nod from Thomas. He pulled the team to a stop in front of the stables. Alexander hopped out and went to stand at the horses’ heads to hold them steady as Thomas set to work unhitching them from the curricle. One of the horses bumped his nose against Alexander’s arm, wanting an affectionate pat, but his attention was fixed on Thomas. Eyes downcast, he undid the buckles on the traces, his movements efficient and confident yet gentle at the same time, so as not to startle the team.

The trepidation slipped away. A smile curved Alexander’s mouth. Yes indeed, tonight would be beyond wonderful.

When Thomas finished, he came up to take one of the horses into the stable. Alexander followed behind with the other and led the horse into the second stall. He tried to focus solely on the task at hand, but his attention kept straying to the man in the stall beside him. The
swoosh
of boots through straw. A pat on a sleek neck. The
clink
of buckles as Thomas unharnessed the other horse.

Why the hell were those sounds suddenly so erotic? Each one made a fresh bolt of anticipation shoot straight to his groin.

Soon those strong hands would be on him.

The knowledge spurred him to work faster. In no time at all, he had the harness hung on a peg in the small tack room. He found some hay that did not appear to have molded and threw an armload into each stall then filled two buckets from the pump at the back of the house.

Together they pushed the curricle alongside the stable, stowing it for the night. He handed Thomas his brown leather bag, then grabbed the hamper and his own bag from the boot. “Come along. I even remembered to bring the key.”

Doing his best to keep his strides to a walk, he made his way to the front of the house, the sound of footsteps following behind him. The long shadows of the trees stretched across the grass clearing. Twilight was almost upon them. If he remembered correctly, there would be a candle and tinderbox on the small table right inside the door.

He set the hamper on the stone landing and reached into his coat pocket to pull out the brass key. The lock clicked as it slid open. His breath caught.

The hell with the candle. It could wait until later. Until after he had run his hands over every inch of Thomas’s bare skin.

With a hand that shook ever so slightly, he reached for the knob and turned it. The door swung open. “Can you grab the hamper?” he asked, as he stepped inside.

But those familiar footsteps did not follow him.

He turned around.

Thomas stood at the foot of the stone step, his bag in hand and face pale.

“It’s all right, Thomas. There’s no one here but us.”

The man stared back at him, silent and still as a statue.

An ominous fist gripped Alexander’s stomach. “Thomas?”

“I can’t.”

Alexander opened his mouth but no words would come out. His bag slipped from his limp fingers, landing with a resounding
thump
at his feet.

“I’m sorry, Sasha.” Thomas turned on his heel and walked away from him.

Chapter Three

Alexander forced air into his lungs.

No, no
. Thomas wasn’t truly leaving. He wouldn’t do that to him. He was just nervous, that was all.

Heart in his throat, he darted out of the house. “Thomas!”

The man’s long strides did not slacken one bit.

Alexander caught up to him as he was pulling open the stable door. “Thomas, wait. It’s all right. No one is—
Wait.
” Trying his best to hold off the panic quickly rising within, he grabbed Thomas’s arm.

Without pausing, Thomas gave his arm a harsh tug, jerking free of Alexander’s grasp, and disappeared into the stables.

Startled, Alexander stopped short.
He’s just nervous,
he reminded himself. They had never done more than bare the absolute essentials when together. Sharing a bed was a big step. One that obviously caused Thomas some concern.

Completely understandable. Alexander could admit to a bit of nervousness himself.

“Thomas,” he called, as he entered the stables. He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. “It’s all right. It’s my first time, too,” he admitted. “I understand if you’re…nervous.”

He heard a rustle then Thomas emerged from the tack room, a saddle in one arm and a bridle looped over his shoulder. The strap of his leather bag was slung across his chest. Without even a glance to him, Thomas opened the latch on the second stall and went inside.

“Where are you going?” Dear Lord, was that his voice?

“I need to leave.” The low words were almost lost in the shuffle of straw as Thomas moved to the horse’s side, his back to Alexander.

“Why? There’s no need to leave.”

Thomas settled the saddle on the horse’s back.

Alexander gripped the iron bars of the stall door. “
Please,
don’t leave. It’s all right. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Thomas reached beneath the horse’s belly to grab the girth. He lifted the saddle flap and pulled the girth up to buckle it in place. His shoulders flexed beneath his greatcoat. Metal clinked.

Panic clutched Alexander’s chest, shortening his breaths. “The house has two bedchambers. You can have one all to yourself, Thomas. Just stay here with me. We don’t have to do—”

“Bloody buckle.”

His eyes flared. Had Thomas just cursed?

Thomas’s hands stilled under the flap. He bowed his head. His sigh filled the stable, but it did absolutely nothing to ease the tension gripping his frame. “I’m sorry. I should not have agreed to come here with you.”

It was all Alexander could do to keep the gasp inside. He swore his heart stopped.

A strange sort of numbness descended over him, a thick stifling blanket that wiped every thought from his mind. He could do nothing but watch as Thomas slipped the bridle on to the horse.

The reins in one hand, Thomas tugged the animal around to the door. “Will you open the door?” he asked, his handsome face devoid of all expression and his gaze fixed on a spot over Alexander’s shoulder.

No!

But before he was even aware of it, he was swinging the door open. He took a step back, allowing Thomas to pass. Of their own accord, his feet took him out into the small stable yard.

Thomas stopped the horse and flicked the reins over its head.

“It’s getting dark. It’s not safe to ride at night.” The words popped out of his mouth before they formed in his mind.

Thomas shook his head, dismissing the concern. “I’ll rent a horse at the inn we stopped at for dinner and have a groom return your horse.”

“But now that the sun’s gone down, it’s getting cold. And what if it rains? You could catch a chill.”

“It won’t rain.” He swung up into the saddle.

Desperation clogged Alexander’s throat. No, this was not happening. Thomas was not actually leaving him.

He moved to stand at the horse’s side. Dared to reach out and lay a pleading hand on Thomas’s knee. “Don’t go.” He tipped his face up, willing Thomas to look at him. But the man’s attention was fixed on the reins as he gathered them. “
Please.
I love you.”

Thomas’s gloved hands tightened on the reins. His lashes swept down. A wince flickered across his features. Then he nudged the horse with his heels and left Alexander standing in the stable yard.

 

***

 

The servant pushed from her knees to stand in front of the fireplace. Hands clasped before her, she turned to face him. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Bennett?”

Thomas shook his head.

“Perhaps something from the kitchen?” she asked, a tentative smile on her lips.

He shook his head again.

“I could fetch you a cup of tea or coffee.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It was the exact same shade as Sasha’s. A rich honey-blond, the ends so pale as to almost appear white under the sun that afternoon.

His grip tightened on the handle of his bag.

“Or brandy, if ye’d care for a glass.”

All he wanted was for her to leave.

He gave her another mute shake of his head.

The smile faltered. “All right then.” She tugged on her white apron. “If you have need of anything, simply ring. A good evening to you, sir.” The girl bobbed a short curtsey and finally left the room, leaving him alone.

He dropped his bag to the floor and sat on the edge of the narrow bed. The flames in the hearth crackled and popped, soon to take the chill out of the small room. But he doubted it could warm him. He felt cold from the inside out, as if a bone-deep chill had lodged itself into his very soul.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into hands that were still shaking.

What was he doing here? When he had reached the inn, he had not been able to get the request out to rent a horse and continue on to London. He should have tried harder. He needed to get back to London before his father noticed he was gone for the night. What if his father caught him walking through the front door in the morning? How could Thomas look him in the eye? If the man ever found out why he had gone to the hunting lodge with Sasha, never mind the fact Thomas had left before he could prove himself a sodomite, he would disown him.

Turn his back on him and cast him off from his family, and rightly so. No man would be proud to call someone like
him
son.

He flinched against the sharp jab of self-disgust. He should have never come to the country with Sasha. Should have never pressed his lips to that beautiful mouth. Never given in to those desires. If he had kept them locked up tight, where they needed to remain, they would have eventually died away and he would not be at this little inn along the road to London.

He would not have left Sasha all alone at that house.

A harsh cringe squeezed his eyes closed tight. Spearing his fingers into his hair, he clutched his skull, but it did nothing to stem the brutal riot within, the push and pull that threatened to tear him apart.

“What’s wrong with me?”

The question hung in the air. Mocking him. Taunting him. The unmistakable desperation a reminder he still, after all this time, had not found the answer.

Why couldn’t he be like his brothers? Why did the sight of a beautiful woman spark nothing more than mere appreciation? Why didn’t he want them? It wasn’t as if he had not tried. He had kissed women, held them in his arms, touched them. Yet not one could rival the sensation of Sasha’s full lips against his. The taste of him. The feel of his sleek body pressed against his. The absolute and utter rightness of it, as if he had finally found home.

He let out a groan, deep and low and filled with gut-wrenching frustration.

No!
Those sensations were
not
right. Men did not have this desire, this need for another man. Men married women, fathered children. What Sasha intended them to do tonight—hell and damnation, what Thomas wanted from him!—could see them hanged.

As he had stood there watching Sasha unlock the front door of his father’s hunting lodge, the ramifications of walking through that door had rushed upon him. Swift, brutal and fierce, vanquishing every trace of the desire that had driven him to that spot. He had not been able to follow Sasha into that house. Could not allow himself to do it. It would make those feelings—the ones he should not even have—much, much too real.

He should not feel this pull toward Sasha. He should be able to look upon him with nothing more than friendship. He should be able to stand close to Sasha and not need to fight the urge to take him in his arms and hold him close.

But he hadn’t been able to resist. Had not been strong enough to resist Sasha. How could he, when mere proximity alone roused a desperate yearning to be like Sasha—brave and confident in his own skin, unashamed of his desires. When just one kiss made those worries temporarily slip away. When it felt so good to simply be near him.

The glint in his light blue eyes whenever he looked at Thomas. The smile that lit up Sasha’s entire face. The one that warmed Thomas from the inside out, stronger than the full force of the summer sun, and made his heart swell with pure happiness.

“Please. I love you.”
Desperate and pleading and filled with undeniable hurt, Sasha’s voice echoed in his ears.

Pain lanced across his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Good Lord. What had he done?

 

He’ll come back. Thomas wouldn’t leave me.

The words repeated in Alexander’s head, over and over, his gaze fixed on the dirt drive leading up to his father’s hunting lodge.

He’ll come back.

He had simply been scared. Thomas had never even kissed another man before Alexander. Clearly, Alexander had pushed for more than Thomas was ready to give. The man just needed some time on his own, to get past the initial shock of having the moment before them. Then rational thought would descend and he would come back to him.

One did not abandon someone one loved, and Thomas loved him. Alexander did not need to hear the words to know it as fact. He felt it. Hell, he had felt it in their very first kiss.

Thomas wouldn’t leave me.

Alexander held tight to his trust in Thomas, clung to it with all his might. No need to take the other horse to look for him. In any case, Thomas could be anywhere. Best to remain exactly where he was and not risk getting lost in the countryside. While he had been able to find the way to the lodge with little problem, it had been years since he had been there and his sense of direction wasn’t something he would ever place even a one shilling bet on. And the last thing he wanted was for Thomas to return and find him gone.

No, no. He needed to remain exactly where he was.

He shifted his weight, the dirt of the stable yard crunching beneath his boots, and wrapped his arms across his chest to ward off the cold December evening. His attention did not once leave the drive as twilight gave way to night.

Silence pressed against his ears. Absolute and complete. Almost deafening in its intensity.

Alexander hugged himself tighter. Shoulders hunching, he huddled within his coat in a failed effort to find a trace of warmth.

He’ll come back to me.

Thomas would not leave him here for the night. If nothing else, he knew Alexander did not much care for being alone in the dark.

A shiver gripped his spine.

He shifted his weight again. The crunch of dirt beneath his boots bounced off the trees, unnaturally loud. Then he went still and peered into the blanket of darkness surrounding him. The weak moonlight was just enough to make out the indistinct shapes of the trees. But he swore he had heard…

There it was again. The faint rhythmic pound of hooves.

His heart leaped into his throat. The most profound relief, sweet and pure and light as air, began to wash over him.

Then an ice-cold chill vanquished every trace of relief.

That was the sound of more than one horse approaching.

A tremble began in his knees. His breaths turned short, shallow, hitching in his chest. He swallowed hard and forced his spine to straighten as two horses stopped before him, one slightly back a bit from the other.

“This your horse?” The pitch of the voice and the slight build of the shoulders indicated the speaker must be an adolescent.

“Yes.” Though the weak moonlight shrouded any identifying details, he knew without a doubt the horse the groom had led to the stable yard was his own.

“I was paid to return him to this stable. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting. Need me to put him up?”

Alexander shook his head. He forced his feet to move, to take him to his horse’s head so he could grab the reins from the groom.

“Good evening.” The groom tugged on the brim of his hat, giving Alexander a nod. He turned his own horse and cantered out of the stable yard.

Alexander’s mind was strangely blank, his limbs operating of their own volition as if separate from himself, as he unsaddled the horse and put the animal in the second stall. He hung the bridle on a hook outside the stall and set the saddle on the ground, leaning it against the wall.

He slid the latch on the stall door home.

He’s not coming back to me.

A strangled sob shook his throat.

Thomas doesn’t love me.

His legs gave out from under him. He crumpled to the dirt aisle. Pressed his palms hard against his eyes. But it was no use.

Head bowed between his knees, sobs racked his body as his heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces.

Other books

Playmate by Kit Reed
A Carnival of Killing by Glenn Ickler
Mary Ann in Autumn by Armistead Maupin
Shaking Off the Dust by Rhianna Samuels
14 BOOK 2 by J.T. Ellison
Cicero's Dead by Patrick H. Moore
Over the Line by Sierra Cartwright
A Hopeful Heart by Amy Clipston