Page 15 of Centerpiece (Infinite Grace #2)

R emi woke just before dawn, used to rising early because he took his page duties seriously even if he wasn’t a page in the sense that many other pages were.

The proof of that was the expensive silver clock in his room as well as the room itself.

The private room didn’t see much use, save for where he dressed or studied, or sometimes, like the past few nights, slept because he didn’t think it was right for him to sleep in Their Graces’ bed when Their Graces were not at home.

Holburn thought this silly but didn’t stop him, merely remarking in his way that the servants already knew where Remi spent his nights.

Which they did; there, Holburn did not lie.

But that was only more reason for Remi to work as hard as he did, and help around the household wherever he could, and to keep to his place when Holburn and Ali were away.

He wouldn’t want other servants to think he was getting above himself or out to lord over them.

They hadn’t shown any resentment, not that he’d seen.

Some quiet shock and some disapproval from a few, but those hadn’t lasted long anyway.

Remi didn’t think Holburn or Ali was responsible for that; they weren’t involved enough with the staff to notice tiny sneers or frowns.

If Remi had to guess, he’d say Hilde had done it.

Hilde’s word was law in this house and all of the Duke’s residences.

Even the guards obeyed her. The Duke might bow only to the King, but, as Ali put it, Hilde was the one who saw that the Duke’s meals were how he liked them and that everyone was treated well, and that was really all Holburn cared about as far as household matters.

Aliette was a bit more involved, as Remi would have expected a lady to be.

But that was for issues of decoration, or arranging for guests and parties, and, sometimes, taking the maids and kitchen workers aside to discuss matters of babies or no babies.

The workers loved her for it, even the ones who walked to the nearby village every Sunday to hear Mass like Agreeable’s ma did.

There was no priest for the house at the moment.

Holburn’s grandfather had never requested new ones after the last ones had died of old age, and Holburn had been in no hurry to replace them.

Two years since he had taken the title, and he had ordered the staff to dust the chapel regularly and to keep the doors open for anyone who wanted to pray, but that was all.

“Providence brought you to me,” he had said when Remi had asked, “I’ll find a suitable priest the same way.”

Ali had quirked an eyebrow at her husband’s ways and said only, “You can’t expect another saint, surely,” before smiling at Remi.

But either Holburn or the King must have grown tired of waiting for Providence, because Holburn had received a royal letter and then he and Aliette had packed up to visit a cousin of his in a monastery. They had wanted to bring Remi with them as they did for most trips, but Remi had refused.

In a place like that, with expectations and eyes on him, it wouldn’t feel right to endanger Holburn’s position, even if Holburn believed himself safe.

Anyway, Remi wouldn’t have gotten to sleep with them in such a place.

A page would be with lower servants or postulants, likely sharing a room or an uncomfortable bed.

He’d rather stay home—stay here, and be useful, and sleep in his little room to the side of Holburn’s, in his comfortable bed that faced his small writing desk.

Reading and writing took practice, and pages wrote and carried notes.

Spying also required knowledge of letters.

All of that was true. But it was also true that Ali enjoyed coaxing Remi through his lessons and rewarding him with pleasure, and that Holburn was aware of how proud Remi was to have gained such skills and of how Remi used them to assist around the house.

If Remi ever wanted to leave, or if Holburn and Ali grew tired of him, or if his presence in their bed endangered them, he would be able to find work elsewhere. That was important enough that even Holburn couldn’t argue against it.

He wanted to, but he couldn’t. When Remi said no, he meant it.

Remi smiled at the memory of Holburn’s sulky response but then frowned through the pale morning light at the clock, which showed he was awake before he needed to be.

He listened for a moment, but there was no thunder or fierce wind outside, and certainly no sounds from Holburn’s bedchamber or from Aliette’s chamber beyond that.

They weren’t due back for another day at least.

But then a faint, muffled thump from somewhere outside Remi’s door made him pause.

No one should be lighting a fire or opening curtains in currently unoccupied rooms, and he doubted Holburn’s household held a thief—aside from Remi.

In the capital, with newer servants or in the house of some noble friend of Ali or Holburn’s, Remi might have expected such things, or a nosy servant serving as a spy, or Ali stumbling in tipsy from a party and falling over a footstool.

He got out of bed, Holburn’s nightshirt falling to his knees as he tiptoed to the door to peek through the crack to the room beyond.

A trail of fine clothes strewn over a rug caught his attention immediately and drew his gaze toward the large bed that now held the shape of a man at rest.

Remi flew across the room to the bed. He didn’t even pause to stare at Holburn’s face or the shining mess of his curls because Holburn smiled and opened his eyes and said, “There you are,” in a sleepy, rasping voice and tossed aside the blankets to beckon Remi to him.

Remi went and was pulled down into Holburn’s arms, which were bare, because at home Holburn slept naked except on the worst winter nights, and preferred to see his nightshirts elsewhere. On Remi, or if not on Remi, then on the floor.

Holburn rolled Remi over to pin him to the bed and repeated himself, perhaps a little grumpier this time.

“There you are.” His breath was warm on Remi’s nape as he brushed aside Remi’s shoulder-length hair and he followed his complaint with soft kisses.

“Sleeping in that bed instead of our bed?” More kisses followed, as well as his hands slipping down Remi’s ribs to his hips and then beneath him to find his cock.

Remi whined immediately, for it had been a long fortnight and with those in the house reluctant to touch him for fear of offending their lord and lady, that left only the village blacksmith, and for that, Remi had to go to him.

And that tumble, lovely though it was, wasn’t this .

Remi liked a fuck but somehow, somewhere, Holburn had become the one in control of Remi’s itch. He could command others to scratch it or do it himself, but he had to be involved or it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right .

“I was worried you’d finally found some other bed worth staying in.

” Holburn tugged Remi’s earlobe with his teeth and then bit lightly at his neck when Remi’s cock twitched.

“But my good girl was waiting for me, and so frustrated.” He clucked his tongue but Remi didn’t think he was sorry.

“Nearly shaking now. Wet as can be. Shh now, settle and I’ll take care of you. ”

“Don’t mind me tumbling in a footman’s bed, but you mind me staying in a footman’s bed?

” Remi wondered breathlessly, squirming to get his legs apart so that Holburn might find it easier to take him.

Remi wouldn’t even need to spend right away, only to be filled and have it be Holburn doing the filling.

That would satisfy him enough. “I’m always yours for the taking.

Was your journey an easy one?” he asked, growing fainter as Holburn’s teeth nipped harder. “Where’s Ali?”

“Easier if you had been there.” Holburn pulled Remi’s hips up and back. He was already hard.

Remi buried his warm face in the pillow below him.

“Ali couldn’t give you a suck in the carriage?

” Not if Hilde was with her, but Remi had known that before he asked.

He teased a duke these days, and that duke squeezed Remi’s thighs in response as if he meant to be menacing, though Remi loved it and nearly everyone in the region knew it.

But then Holburn slowed, and stopped, and just before Remi could whine at him to take him rough and dry as he was, Holburn flipped him over and pinned him by his wrists.

Remi’s legs were a tangle under him. His back was to the bedding and he was trapped beneath Holburn’s weight.

He shivered for it, looking up to meet an unexpected frown.

“You are a lovely hole, Remi sweet,” Holburn said in the voice that he used when discussing official acts and requests from the King. “But you are not only a hole to us. You do know that after all this time?”

Only two years. Not long at all in the life of dukes, who tended to live longer than farmers and definitely lived longer than thieves. And within a few months, Holburn and Ali were going to start on the matter of heirs. That would change things. Remi knew that even if they didn’t.

Nobles had servants to care for their wee ones, but neither of the Graces who kept Remi in their bed were the kind to ignore their children. Remi would be more page than ever once that happened. There simply wouldn’t be as much time for frivolities.

Remi was fond of that word, even if Holburn was displeased by how Remi used it.

“Oh, I see,” Holburn murmured when Remi met his eyes but then glanced away. “My suspicions were right. That is why you really stayed behind. To get used to that terrible, lonely bed?”

“ Holburn .” Remi pushed out a breath and reflected that he sounded like Ali when he said the name that way. Exasperated and yet happy , Hilde had described that tone once. “It’s a fine bed. Better than all but this one.”

“Do I seem tired of you?” Holburn settled more of his weight onto Remi before sitting up. He was still hard.