Page 41 of Beguiled
“Supper” consisted of a bewildering array of small, perfectly cooked dishes. Cold roast meats, game terrine, small salad, dressed vegetables. Murdo served a plate out for David, as proper as any footman, and pressed wine upon him. Throughout the meal, he was unfailingly polite, making none of his usual barbed, mocking remarks. David guessed that, for Murdo, perfect manners were probably a sign of displeasure.
David tried to eat, but he had no appetite. He knew, somehow, that his angry words about the clearance of the ordinary highlanders from Murdo’s family’s lands had touched a nerve, and now he regretted the burst of venom that had prompted him to speak so impulsively without knowing anything of Murdo’s circumstances.
After a lengthy silence, Murdo let out a huffed breath.
“Damn it all,” he muttered. He set down his wineglass with a sigh, and David looked up, meeting his gaze.
“This isn’t what I was hoping for,” Murdo said by way of explanation, his tone terse.
David stared at him, taking in the glowering gaze and unhappy expression.
“What were you hoping for?” he asked.
“To talk with you,” Murdo replied, the dark flush over his cheekbones showing that this was not an easy admission for him. “To persuade you to come back here with me, after the ball and spend the night again.”
David didn’t say anything in response to that. But he watched Murdo steadily and thought,I want that too.
It wasn’t an especially comfortable realisation. There was a world of difference between enjoying the pleasures Murdo Balfour offered as and when the opportunity arose and actively admitting that was what he wanted. Planning to do it in advance and going out of his way to make sure it happened.
“Most of all,” Murdo said in a husky voice, “I want you in my bed again.”
David swallowed, and he knew that Murdo noticed his reaction.
“This is unwise,” David said weakly.
“Is it? How can it be unwise to see the chance of pleasure and to take it?” Murdo replied. “Surely that is the very opposite of being unwise?”
David felt a brief rush of impatience at Murdo’s deliberate blindness. “You know why. There are consequences. Pleasure has a price.”
“You’re talking about regret, and I’ve told you before, I have no time for regret. I don’t believe in it.”
“Well, perhaps I do.”
Murdo leaned over the table and grasped David’s forearm. “Do you regret any of the time you’ve spent with me, David? Would you undo it if you could? Because let me tell you this, I would not lose a second of it.” He paused for a long moment, his dark gaze boring into David, then added, “Why do you think I came back to Edinburgh in the first place?”
David returned Murdo’s gaze, arrested by what he saw there, held in place by the hard hand on his arm.
“You came for the King’s visit,” he said at last. “Your father—”
“My father asked me to come to Edinburgh and nearly fell off his chair when I agreed,” Murdo interrupted with grim amusement. “I know for a fact he had at least two different blackmail ideas to use against me when I refused him, as I usually do.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think you do,” Murdo said gently. “But let me make it plain so there’s no misunderstanding: what we shared two years ago wasn’t enough for me. What we’ve had this time isn’t enough either. I want more.”
Well, that was plain. Plain as could be.
David sighed. “You know that, at some point, this has to end.”
Murdo’s grip on David’s arm loosened. “Yes, I know. Just—not now. Let’s just allow this to run its course this time.”
Run its course?Murdo spoke about this thing between them like it was a fever, an infection that just needed to rage for a while before it inevitably burnt out. He didn’t seem to share David’s fears at all—that it was more like a maiming. More like lining up to voluntarily have a limb removed that you’d never get back.
“Tell me,” Murdo said. “Will you come back here with me tonight, David? Will you come to my bed again?”
And somehow, despite everything, David didn’t hesitate. He couldn’t have refused the man had his life depended on it.
“Yes,” he said. “I will.”