Page 67

Sam

London, England.

Sam left his chambers, whistling a bawdy alehouse tune. He’d just received news of a private tutor opening: a gentleman farmer not too far from Thornfield Hall. The gentleman had two boys—described as having an enthusiasm for life . In other words, they were two terrors.

While the gentleman’s advertisement didn’t mention anything specific, Ash—who’d found the position—had done some digging and found the boys had gone through a few tutors. Two raucous boys couldn’t scare Sam off. He was a raucous boy. Who better to teach them than one of their own ilk?

The only downside was Sam would have to reside permanently in the country unless the boys ever traveled to London. Which meant when Parliament was in session—like it was right now—Felix and Sam would have to spend some time apart.

But there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Sam was fully capable of spending time away from Felix. It wasn’t as though he had to be at the man’s side at all times. If he told himself that enough, maybe he’d start to believe it.

It was just…he was kind of obsessed with the man.

And honestly, could anyone blame him? The man was all endearing freckles and commanding earl. Add on a fiercely loyal heart and the playful, passionate lover who showed up in the bedchamber. It was the most intoxicating, addicting combination.

He passed Blakely, the Jennings London butler. “His Lordship?”

“In his study, Mr. Thorne.”

“You’re a gem, Blakely.”

The man’s countenance remained blank. Sam was determined to get emotion out of the man.

He’d earn a smile. Or at least a twitch of the lips.

Sam knew the man was capable, because when Felix had introduced Sam to the staff and stumbled over his words, explaining that Sam was his partner, Blakely’s features had turned soft, and there had been an almost paternal fondness shining in his brown eyes.

Blakely had been with the family since Felix had been a lad.

It was clear what Felix had told Sam was true: the Jennings had a staff who all stood loyally behind Felix.

It gave Sam hope. That there was good in this world.

Sam paused outside Felix’s study and leaned against the door frame.

He drew in a slow breath and just took his man in, let the warm contentment that bubbled up every time he was in Fee’s presence wash over him.

Sam had never realized how multifaceted love was.

He’d thought it was all sweeping love declarations, overwhelming and all-consuming.

And at times, it was. But it was also quiet and simple.

Like right here and now. The comfort that came with watching his man read a newspaper, casually sipping a coffee, an adorable concentration line between his amber brows.

Sam wanted to press that small furrow flat with his thumb. He stepped forward. Perhaps he’d do just that.

Felix’s head lifted at Sam’s footfalls and took the task away from Sam.

A smile lit his face, all semblance of a frown gone.

Glittering whisky eyes reflected back at Sam.

Best feeling in the world, that look. It was a shot straight to the heart every time, knowing someone desired Sam’s presence so much. Knowing that person was Felix.

Sam ambled up to the desk and dropped into the chair, a smile curling his lips. He knew what was coming.

An amber brow winged up, and Sam was the recipient of a get your arse over here, you brat stare.

Sam’s face broke into a full grin. He popped back up and scooted around Felix’s desk.

He cupped Felix’s cheek, thumb grazing over a freckled cheekbone.

“Good afternoon,” he murmured, then leaned down and brushed a soft kiss to his man’s lips.

It was small, chaste, but it was Felix. So, it was everything.

Felix stared up at him, gaze as soft as melted honey. “Afternoon,” Felix whispered.

“That better?”

“Much.”

Sam settled back in his chair, his pulse picking up again.

He couldn’t wait to tell Fee about the position he’d just learned of.

He was trying not to be overeager. It wasn’t as though he’d even be chosen for the position.

He didn’t have any prior experience, just a strong education.

Best not to get his hopes up. He cleared his throat.

“Anything of note in the paper?” he said with forced casualness.

The frown-line returned. “Actually, yes.”

Sam leaned forward, curiosity overshadowing his excitement to share his news. “Oh?” Sam loved a juicy tidbit of gossip.

Felix raked a gaze over Sam and chuckled. “Inquisitive, are we?”

“Always.”

“It’s nothing scandalous. Sad news, I’m afraid. The Earl of Dalreoch has passed away.”

Sam’s muscles went rigid, and he stiffly sat back. “I see. Well, that’s not all that surprising. He’s an old cove, is he not?” He absently picked at his breeches.

Felix’s gaze flicked up from the paper. “You’re familiar with the family?”

Sam barely repressed his snort. He was familiar, all right. “I’ve heard of them,” Sam muttered.

“Ah,” Felix eyed Sam, head cocked at a curious angle.

“Well, the old Scottish Earl passed around a year ago. So, Viscount Trenton assumed that title as well. He’s…

the family’s second son? I believe. Fell ill and never recovered.

” Felix’s lips pursed. “The family has had their fair share of bad luck. Quite a few deaths. And none of the newly made Trentons have produced heirs. I’ve never moved in the same circles as them…

we don’t share the same stances in Parliament.

But I wouldn’t ever wish ill health on them. ”

Sam most definitely would. Except… Sam’s heart bottomed. Holy fucking shite. Felix’s words registered with the force of a brick to the gut. A soft ringing filled his ears, growing louder, and Felix’s next words came to him, warped and muffled, like sound underwater.

“I could have sworn…a third brother listed in Debrett’s…”

Sam tried to draw in a breath, but his lungs refused to cooperate.

“…I’ve never heard mention of him…”

A cold weight settled in his chest, heavy, sinking.

“…predeceased his older brothers, perhaps…”

Sam swallowed, but it got stuck.

The third Trenton brother was very much alive.

And was sitting across from Felix right now.

He was sure his family would have preferred to live in blissful ignorance, pretending he’d predeceased his brothers. But everyone was well-aware he’d escaped the noose.

Oh God, Sam. You’re now a bloody earl.