The Hunt Club Chronicles Bundle (44 page)

But that wasn’t him. Francis had known the minute Ambrose had allowed him to fuck him that he’d found the place he belonged. He was the duke’s man, body and soul. Even Ambrose had teased that he’d become his new wife in all but gender. He did tend to fuss and worry about Ambrose a great deal. Now they were lovers, he doubted he’d be able to stop. He’d probably worry more than he did in the past and that could prove a sticking point for the duke.

He liked his freedom.

He liked to come and go at his own whim.

Francis rolled to his side and stared across the narrow chamber at his precious books, the sum total of his wealth and consequence. He didn’t amount to much, but everything he had and was belonged to the duke now. Not much of a dowry at all. He laughed at the thought, amazed he imagined himself as the duke’s new spouse. For one thing, the duke could never visit him in bed here, and another, he wouldn’t want to visit this shabby chamber.

That kind of companionship wasn’t possible for him. He would have nothing more than quick tumbles and his regular routine.

He set his hand to his chest at the uncomfortable life ahead of him when the duke had had his fill. But paper crackled within his coat pocket and he sat up to remove it, squinting at the letters in the weak light. He couldn’t see very much, so he stood and moved closer to the candle he hadn’t blown out yet. His breath ceased as he recognized the handwriting. Why on earth was his brother’s wife writing to him? Fanny didn’t like to bother him when he was in
London
.

He ripped the note open and quickly scanned the close written sheet.

“Dear God.” His legs buckled and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. His brother had been trapped under a fallen horse by the old stream. He squeezed his eyes shut as fear overwhelmed him. His brother was likely dead by now. Few men survived that kind of injury. He read the note again, taking more time to consider his brother’s chances. A surgeon had attended him, and he was supposed to be resting comfortably in bed. Fanny had thought he would want to know.

Guilt tore at him.

If he’d been with his family he would be certain of Albert’s chances of recovery. It may not be as bad as he had first feared. But it might be far worse. Indecision tore through him but one thing was certain, he needed to return home and see for himself. Perhaps he could be useful to his brother and wife around the farm. Even if Albert recovered, he might never walk surely again.

Francis quickly gathered up the bare essentials he would take with him—surgeon’s tools, clothes and coin—and then lay back down to wait for sunrise impatiently. At this hour, he’d be the only one awake and he could not leave the duke’s side without explaining why he had to go. He’d need a horse, or to take the public coach.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but bloodied images of his brother tormented him. He sat up suddenly to expel them.

Sleep would likely not come to him this night so he dressed himself in fresh clothing, set his belongings near the door, and quietly padded back toward the duke’s chamber. The duke still slept and, as he stared down at the sleeping man his heartbeat doubled. What kind of mischief could he get into while he was gone? Would Lord Silas return and attempt to seduce him again? Would someone else replace him before he’d been gone a day? His stomach turned over at the thought.

“Come to bed, Francis,” Ambrose murmured, pushing the sheets away from his side to give Francis room.

Although he should be cautious about being in the duke’s bed, he slipped off his boots and lay down. The thought of resting his head on the duke’s shoulder one last time was too tempting to ignore.

The duke shifted, and then flopped on top of him. “Mmm, that’s what was missing. My new wife.” Ambrose kissed his chest, and then stilled.

Cautiously, Francis curled his arms about the naked duke and listened to his breathing as he settled again. He could get to like laying in this bed more than was good for him. Impulsively, he kissed the duke’s hair. He would miss him while he was gone.

Ambrose stirred. “What’s the matter, Francis?”

Francis swallowed. This wasn’t quite the place he’d wanted to have the conversation about leaving but he supposed no time would be pleasant. “I have to go home.”

Ambrose slipped his hand under Francis’ waistcoat and squeezed. “When the season is over we will return to
Tindel
Park
.”

“No, now. I have to leave today.”

Ambrose stilled. “Why the rush to get away from
London
? Are you unhappy with our new arrangement?”

Francis sighed and rubbed Ambrose’s bare back. “My brother has been injured. I want to see that the right things have been done for him. And Fanny will need me about.”

“Especially with Molly’s coming out so close,” the duke murmured. “Someone has to keep a good eye on that minx before she gets into serious trouble. Your brother had been doing an admirable job of it until now. But she’s at
that
age. The adventurous one.”

Francis squirmed to see the duke’s face. His eyes were still closed but his lips had lifted into a contented smile.

“Did you think I didn’t listen when you spoke of your family?” Ambrose squeezed his chest. “I know how important they are to you. We will go home today.”

“There is no need to come with me. You should stay here and regain your strength before a long journey.”

“There is every need. I won’t be left behind wondering what is going on. Give Angus the word that we want to close Tindel House for the rest of the season. We’ll go home after we get some more sleep this morning.” Ambrose snuggled closer. “Don’t argue about it. You’ll only worry about what I’m up to here and become surly with Fanny and her nattering. You can visit her and have a reliable excuse to return home at night. Your nephews are not complete imbeciles. They can be relied upon to do some of the watching, too. Much better this way, don’t you think?”

Francis let out the breath he had unwittingly held, stunned beyond words that the duke was determined to upend his plans for the season and return home just because Francis needed to go. He’d thought Ambrose asked questions about his family only to be polite. But it seemed as if he’d been more interested than he let on.

Would he ever understand what made him tick?

Ambrose rolled off him suddenly, grumbling a bit about his shoulder then fell straight back to sleep. Francis peered at him in the weak light. The duke kept himself fit, his skin tanned from swimming half naked in his river when at home. Hesitantly, he set his hand over the broad chest and marveled that he was allowed to touch him. He withdrew his hand, lest he wake Ambrose again, but his heart beat sped up at the idea that he was wanted for more than just immediate pleasure. That this affair between them could become something far more.

Weariness tugged at Francis’ eyes, but he couldn’t risk falling asleep in the duke’s bed. He couldn’t risk being found this way by the duke’s valet because the man would likely have a fit of the vapors because it wasn’t him there. He crept off the mattress, sat on a nearby chair and pulled on his boots. He’d sleep here beside the bed, ensure the duke was well enough to travel when he woke, and then make all the necessary plans to shift the duke home to
Tindel
Park
.

Chapter Fourteen

“You sent for me, Father?”

Ambrose studied his reflection in the mirror one last time, and then slowly turned. Fast movements still caused him discomfort, as he’d discovered while attempting to dress himself this morning without his valet’s assistance.

“Morning, Ru. Thank you for coming so promptly.” He studied his son. Rupert appeared at ease today, if not exactly affectionate. He stood a few feet further away than was usual. “I thought I should inform you in person that I’m returning to
Tindel
Park
this morning.”

Rupert took a step forward and clasped Ambrose’s good arm. “Are you well enough to make the trip?”

A lump formed in his throat. At least he hadn’t lost his son entirely with the revelations of the past few days. He nodded. “I’m leaving you in charge of the Hunt Club as of today. Rely upon Marinari as I have relied upon
Redding
and you will have no trouble running the place.”

Rupert scowled. “Rely on that effeminate molly? Surely you must be joking.”

“Marinari is more cunning than you give her credit for, and a great deal stronger.”

Rupert crossed his arms over his chest. “I doubt that.”

“One of these days, my boy, you will listen to your old father. Marinari is capable of keeping the unwise in line and ensuring the private aspects of the club run smoothly.”

“I cannot imagine why I would need that man.”

“Woman,” Ambrose corrected. “These are troubled times, Rupert. Marinari has been living in this country in disguise for the past six years, five of them under my roof. I have never had cause to doubt his change of allegiance and I would appreciate it if you did not expose him.”

“Why does he need to remain hidden?”

“Because Marinari was an assassin.” Ambrose shuddered. “As
Redding
discovered after some careful digging, his family was slaughtered by the French in retaliation for an assignment gone wrong. Marinari was blameless but his entire family was killed from his aged grandmother down to the smallest babe. Not one member of his family remains.”

Rupert gasped. “Father, I know you have a soft spot for those beneath you but this is taking it too far. You put the family in danger. If the crown finds out—”

“The prince regent and the king himself are well aware of Marinari’s location. He is being watched by many concerned parties.”

“And you trust them to know of the club’s goings on? You really are mad.”

Ambrose grinned. “Those particular fellows were members long before Marinari came along. Don’t fret about them. They will reveal themselves to you when they get to know your character better.”

Rupert scowled. “I’ve never heard a whisper of a famous spy by the name of Marinari.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Of course not. He changed his name, too, and keeps a low profile.”

“So who is he really?”

He supposed it unfair to leave his heir oblivious to the danger he faced should he be inclined to delve under Marinari’s skirts again. The next time he may not get off so lightly. However, he had given his word. “You will have to wait for Marinari to trust you.”

A tap sounded on the door and Smith hurried in and through the room at his summons. He rushed out again with his arms full and an unhappy scowl for his employer. Smith had to be dismissed.

“So you really are going. But why the rush?”

“It is necessary. However, I wonder if you might do me a favor and take Smith into your household. He’s poorly suited to country life.”

Rupert raised a brow. “Of course. My brother-in-law is with us and could use his own man rather than sharing mine. Have him sent round tomorrow.” Rupert looked about him. “It will be very quiet in
London
without you this season. You’ve always been here with me when I have been.”

“I shall leave the ladies in your capable hands.” Ambrose laughed. “Just remember, if my absence grows too harsh to bear you can always visit me at
Tindel
Park
. I should like to see you and Sally at Christmas.”

“You’re going to be gone that long?”