Page 10

Felix

“Felix,” Felicity murmured low as they made their way down the last flight of stairs in the castle’s entry. “Don’t look, but just there in the shadows of the hall that leads to the library, someone is watching you.”

Felix stiffened but waited until they reached the bottom of the stairs, then stole a glance at the hall.

His eyes locked with a footman, probably a few years younger than Felicity.

The man’s eyes widened, but he didn’t look away.

And what Felix saw flitting over the man’s face gave him a very good idea what the man was after.

Hesitance. Hope. The man gave a nervous tug on his ear.

Felix casually lifted his hand and touched his ear in return, and the man’s entire frame sagged in relief.

A signal for The Harborage . A signal for help.

The question was, would the man approach Felix later?

Sometimes a signal came, only for the person to change their mind or lose their nerve.

Felix understood—he and Kozington, one of his partners in The Harborage, could be intimidating given their noble status, especially since it was typically those well below their station seeking help.

“An admirer, you think?” Felicity murmured quietly as they strode through the front doors.

The side of Felix’s mouth kicked up, and he cast a sidelong glance at his sister. She was so fanciful. As though it was that simple for two male lovers to find each other.

“No, I don’t believe so.”

She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. “It must be hard.” She turned to him, and their gazes clashed for a step before they both looked back at the stables. “Having to be so discreet and secretive. How ever do you find a…a lover?”

Felix grimaced. “We are most definitely not discussing this.”

“Come now, Felix. Don’t be a prude. It is not as though I am asking you for specifics. I just… I want you to be happy.” Her voice grew soft. “It’s hard enough as it is finding someone you have a connection with, finding something like what Mother and Father shared.”

He reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, ignoring the pang in his heart at the falsehood of Mother and Father’s relationship.

“Don’t fret, sister. We have our ways.” He waggled his brows at her.

“Plus, when you look as pretty as I do? There are certain areas of London where all I need to do is step foot, and men flock to me.”

Her lips pressed tight, twitching as she tried her best to hold back her—

She snorted softly. There it was. His chest warmed.

“I’d say you think quite highly of yourself, but considering we are essentially the female and male versions of each other, I suppose you just complimented me as well.”

“I had no idea how vain you were becoming, Flick.”

They shared a grin.

And then her gaze dropped to his neck, and her slim brows pinched.

“Fifi…” She leaned forward, peering at his neck and nearly tripping over her feet.

Then broke out in mirth. “Did you attempt to shave yourself? And I say attempt because”—she sniggered—“bloody hell, it looks like you came out on the wrong side of a fencing match. Lord, I hope that wasn’t the work of the Duke’s valet. ”

“Stuff it. Yes, I shaved myself. And may have nicked myself once or twice in the process. I’d like to see you trust a stranger with a knife at your neck.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s a valet. It is his job . Were you also afraid he’d strangle you with your cravat?” Her smile turned mischievous. “That would explain the tragic state of your knot.” She squinted. “It’s all lumpy and deformed.”

Yes, well, it was either that or so tight he risked strangling himself. So loose and lumpy it was. Felix quickened his stride, eager to get to the stables and away from the line of questioning. Unfortunately, Flick wasn’t deterred and matched his pace.

“Can a brother not want to spend time with his lovely sister?” He batted his lashes at her, and she grinned, knocking him with her hip.

“I’ll get it out of you, you know.”

But she wouldn’t right now. They reached the barn where a young groom waited with two horses already saddled, a large gleaming bay and a smaller rich chestnut.

The groom glanced between Felix and Felicity, his eyes widening.

“F-forgive me, my lord, my lady,” he stammered.

“I was only instructed to saddle two horses with regular saddles. No one mentioned a side-saddle would be required. I will have it rectified immediately.”

He moved to lead the horses away, but Felix rested his hand on the lad’s shoulder, halting him. He gave the boy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and took the bay’s reins in his other hand. “It’s quite all right. No side-saddle needed.”

The boy’s brows scrunched, and his gaze darted from Felicity to Felix in rapid succession.

Felicity smiled cheekily at the boy and took the chestnut’s lead from him.

“Thank you. We’ll take them from here.” She led her horse to the mounting block, stepped up, and swung up onto the horse, skirts bunching up to reveal the breeches she wore underneath.

She winked at the lad, whose cheeks reddened as he smiled shyly back at her.

He tipped his cap and disappeared into the stables.

Felix turned to his sister and caught her eye. “Ready? Quick ride and we’re back before any of the house party guests arrive. No one the wiser.”

She dipped her chin and shot him a sly look from beneath her lashes. “ The Lady Felicity riding astride? Never say it.” She stroked the chestnut’s neck softly with her glove, the horse dancing with restless energy.

Felix grinned. The poor beast could no doubt sense the whirlwind of mischief his sister embodied. He hopped up on the mounting block and into the saddle in a quick fluid movement.

But Felicity was already kicking her horse, and the pair launched forward. “Race you to the small copse of trees at the end of the field!” she called back to him.

The cheating imp. He ushered his horse after her, riding low, the bay’s longer legs eating up ground as he closed the distance between himself and his sister.

The cool wind burned as it whipped his cheeks, carrying all his troubles away with it for a blissful moment.

Felicity dipped her head, glancing back at Felix beneath her arm.

He could just make out her grin. He loved seeing her like this. Wild and free.

Her spirited “Hiyaaa” carried back to him, and she and her horse surged forward, skirts whipping behind her.

He and Felicity may have their arguments over her future with Lord Wessex, but this was what her future held.

A life here, free to live unencumbered and unfettered away from society’s constraints.

It might not be the love she dreamed of, but at least she’d have this.

His bay was no match for her speedy little chestnut, and he closed in on the copse a few lengths behind her.

They both pulled up their horses, their mounts snorting from their hard run.

He glanced at his sister, her cheeks rosy from the stinging wind, eyes alight with the exhilaration only a full-on gallop could bring.

It was as close to flying as a person could experience.

He leaned over and gave his bay a hardy pat. “We did our best, mate.” He raised his voice. “Not much one can do when racing with a cheater .”

Felicity let out a dramatic gasp. “You dare impugn my honor, good sir. Pistols at dawn!”

Felix snorted. “You with a pistol? I don’t bloody think so.”

He urged his horse onward, and they led their horses in a leisurely walk through the copse.

“I wager I’d be a crack shot,” she said, shooting him a saucy side-eye.

“Yes, I have no doubt. But the last thing I need to do is equip you with more ways to murder Lord Wessex.”

She waved her hand flippantly. “I wouldn’t kill him. Just use his ballocks as target practice.”

Felix winced. Yes, definitely no pistols for Felicity.

The faint sound of rushing water filtered through the trees, growing louder as they meandered deeper into the wood.

“Ooooh.” Felicity craned forward in the saddle.

“Let’s find where that’s coming from. I wonder if there’s a pond hidden in here.

” She glanced back at Felix and winged a brow.

“I foresee a stone-skipping contest in our future.”

They pressed their mounts into a trot in the direction of the rushing water and soon the wood parted, revealing a gently flowing river.

Three streams flowed swiftly down a large moss-covered wall of stone, spilling into the waters below.

The current slowed as it traveled across the river pool, winding its way toward where the river disappeared into the depths of the wood.

Felix inhaled deeply. The damp, earthy aroma was calming—

“Who is that? ”

His head snapped in the direction Felicity was looking, and his mind went blank. Because standing there was the Duke’s valet, water streaming down his very muscular, very naked skin.

Felix’s mouth went dry. The droplets covering the man’s skin glimmered in the sunlight peeking through the break in the copse, gliding down a chest so powerfully built it made Felix look like a lean youth in comparison.

Dark, curling hair lightly covered Thorne’s tanned chest, a tan that only came from being shirtless—often.

That tanned skin continued to a bare torso, taut and solid, the strength obvious even though it wasn’t as defined as Felix’s own.

His gaze dipped lower, and he swallowed hard.

Because the dark curling hair resumed just below the man’s navel, a line leading straight down to his low-slung trousers.

And Felix desperately, desperately wanted to follow that line to its end.

“That’s the Duke’s manservant,” he said hoarsely.

Felicity turned to him, large eyes unblinking. “ No . A valet? That’s the largest man I’ve ever seen.”

She glanced back at the man, who was now dipping a cloth in the stream—only to lift it to his neck and squeeze.

Fresh rivulets of water slid down the man’s physique.

Fuck me . Urgh. Felix slammed his eyes shut tight.

That inspired way too many tempting images.

Like how parched he was…and a very appealing way to quench that thirst.

“Goodness, I didn’t know men could look like that,” Felicity whispered. “He looks like a Viking.”

“We should go.” Because his sister shouldn’t be seeing this. And Felix really shouldn’t be seeing this.

God, he was never going to be able to look at Thorne again.

Not now that he knew what Thorne looked like underneath his plain valet garb.

There had been a safety in not truly knowing, to letting his imagination undress the man.

Felix had been quite happy in his blissful delusion that beneath that straining fabric lay lumps and bumps and pox scars.

Felicity turned a glare on Felix. “Why? I’m enjoying the view.” She leaned toward Felix, nearly falling off her mount, and waggled her eyebrows. “I bet you are, too. What a treat having that fine specimen tending to you.”

No. It really was not a treat. Felix wanted to be that man’s treat. A groan escaped him.

“I’d happily let him dress and undress me,” Felicity murmured wistfully.

“Felicity,” he hissed. “Dear God, what am I going to do with you?”

She grinned, not chastised in the least.

“We need to go. I can’t let you ogle a naked man. We can’t ogle a naked man. It’s improper for one thing. And it’s a blatant invasion of his privacy.”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about. He’s taken care of the issue.” She let out a beleaguered sigh. “He’s leaving.”

Felix glanced back at Thorne to see the man reaching up for his massive ebony mount’s mane.

And then he and Felicity sucked in a breath in unison.

Because the man hefted himself up, his muscles pulled tight, shifting and rippling as they strained to pull their owner onto his mount.

Then he slid a powerful leg over the horse’s bare back, settling atop his mount.

More forbidden visions flooded Felix’s mind.

He drew in a deep breath and blew away all those thoughts.

With a nearly discernible squeeze of Thorne’s stocking-less calves, he guided his horse into the wood, disappearing from view.

Felix’s shoulders sagged.

“Do you still want to skip stones?” Felicity asked quietly.

“How about you throw them at my head instead?”

He caught his sister’s eye, and she lifted her brows in doubtful optimism. “Do you think there’s any chance he prefers—”

“No.”

Most didn’t. And even those who did didn’t necessarily act on it.

It was hard not to feel as though one wasn’t fundamentally flawed for their preferences.

When society believed a person should be hanged based on who they chose to love, many suppressed those desires, buried them deep down.

Even Felix, who had an accepting family, was all too familiar with shame’s clutches.

And then there was the risk that came with it.

He hadn’t been lying to his sister when he said there were certain places where he could go and find willing partners. But there was always a risk. Felix understood that more than anyone.

His thoughts drifted back to the footman. To the signal. After what Felix had experienced, he’d dedicated himself to finding a way to create safe spaces. And to assist those who needed a swift escape from the country.

That was how The Harborage was born. Founded by Felix, led by him and his two partners: Lord Kozington and Ryker Drake. A pair of powerful aristocrats and a man who owned the rest of them.

“Fifi?”

Felix shook off his thoughts and forced his lips upward. “The man’s a bit of an arse anyhow. Favorable looks don’t make up for a shite personality.”

Felicity side-eyed him. “Oh, trust me, brother. I am well aware of that fact.” She urged her mount toward the pond.

“You enjoy Wessex’s company,” Felix called after her, but guilt slithered through his gut.

She did. He saw them together. They laughed, jested. Lord Wessex even joined them for their annual snowball fight each Christmastide. And still wanted to wed Felicity after. It was more than most could hope for.

“Come on, brother. Time for me to best you in skipping stones.”