Page 15 of Hastings (Brothers in Arms #15)

CHAPTER 15

H astings walked companionably at Stephen’s side as they wandered through the maze. Now that they were alone Stephen didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t remember last night, and so Stephen would maintain that nothing had happened. It was better that way. If Hastings had wanted to remember it, he wouldn’t have gotten drunk first.

No matter how many times Stephen had been in the maze he could never find his way through. Hopefully they ran into one of the many people already inside it.

“Before I dragged you in here I should, perhaps, have mentioned that I cannot navigate us out again,” he told Hastings nervously.

Hastings barked out a laugh. “I wondered. You’re almost as bad at directions as you are at lying.”

Stephen gave him a look, thoroughly annoyed. If he only knew. “That is not true. I’m perfectly fine at directions when I am not in a maze.”

“So, Esme Marleston is trying to seduce Essie in here?” Hastings asked idly, perusing the high hedge on all sides of them.

“Good Lord, I hope not,” Stephen said fervently. “Kurt would have a fit.”

“Worried about his precious darling, is he?” Hastings sounded very sarcastic.

“Most likely worried about Essie’s virtue,” Stephen said. “Rumor has it, Esme can be very convincing. She means no harm. She’s just charming and pretty and lively, and very hard to resist. Most fathers keep their daughters well out of her path.”

Hastings’s laughter was bright and genuine this time. “That one is trouble, you’ve the right of it,” he agreed. “Westridge and Schillig have their work cut out for them.” He frowned. “They don’t treat the girl badly, do they? I thought they doted on her.”

“They do,” Stephen said. “That might be part of the problem. She’s never wanted something they haven’t given her.”

“All children should be spoiled,” Hastings replied solemnly.

Stephen was taken aback by the comment, which didn’t sound like Hastings at all. “Why do you say that?” he asked, encouraging Hastings to say more, to reveal more of his innermost thoughts to him. Stephen had been trying to draw him out since his arrival. He didn’t just want Hastings physically. He wanted to know who he was, who he really was.

“Because I know what it’s like to be unwanted,” Hastings told him simply. “To have nothing and be given nothing without having to struggle and sacrifice at too young an age.” His voice became fierce. “No child, no matter how rambunctious or troublesome, should have to feel like that.”

“Hastings,” Stephen said. He put his hand on Hastings’s arm and pulled him to a stop. He stepped in front of him and waited until Hastings looked at him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Hastings grinned in that devil-may-care way he had. “Not your fault,” he said. “And I turned out fine, didn’t I?” His gaze was intense, belying his cavalier tone.

“More than fine,” Stephen told him. Hastings’s gaze grew heated and suddenly the path seemed too small, too close, too tight to contain them. Stephen grew uncomfortably warm and started to draw his hand away from Hastings’s arm, but Hastings put his hand on Stephen’s, holding it there. It was the second time today he’d done that. Perhaps he did remember?

“You’re more than all right, too,” he said quietly, and Stephen’s heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in his breast.

“Hastings.” His voice was breathless, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed.

“These mazes are certainly made for seducing someone, aren’t they?” Hastings observed quietly, and Stephen had to remind himself to breathe.

“I believe many people have met their downfall in a maze,” he agreed. Hastings frowned, and Stephen rushed to add, “Or their destiny, I suppose.”

“Destiny,” Hastings repeated. He tipped his head to the side as he regarded Stephen. “Do you believe in that?”

“Of course,” Stephen said. “Don’t you?” What other reason could there be for the two of them to cross paths as they had? For Stephen to feel this way about him, something he’d never felt for anyone before.

“No.” Hastings answered immediately. “I believe we make our own destiny. If I waited around for destiny to find me, I’d still be a guttersnipe in the stews.”

Stephen shook his head vehemently. “No, I don’t believe that. You are still the same person you were as a boy, Hastings. People don’t change, not that much. Lessons are learned, of course, but the man you are was in there already, even when you were struggling.”

Hastings gave him a lopsided grin. “Think so, do you? You might not have been so kind if I’d picked your pocket back then.”

“I daresay I would have taken you in hand and bought you a good meal,” Stephen told him.

“Taken me in hand, hmm?” Hastings said quietly. He took a step closer to Stephen, until they were lapel to lapel, their similar scents mingling with their breath, barely a space between them, Hastings still holding his hand against his arm. Stephen could feel Hastings’s muscles tighten. He was shocked at the rush of desire that assaulted him. He’d never felt this kind of passion for someone. He certainly hadn’t expected to feel it with Hastings, not when he’d first arrived at the parsonage. But somehow it seemed as if they’d been headed here all along.

When their lips met the heat of Hastings’s mouth on his made Stephen step into him, seeking more of it. He thought of destiny and downfalls and wrapped his arms around Hastings’s neck and kissed him back. Hastings hesitated for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected Stephen’s enthusiastic response, and then he put his arms around Stephen and dragged him even closer, opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. Did he remember? Did he remember the taste of Stephen’s mouth from last night? The press of their bodies against each other?

Stephen tangled his tongue with Hastings’s and tried to make him remember all of it. Hastings moaned quietly into his mouth and arousal coursed through Stephen, settling in his prick, which wanted more—much more—of what it had last night. Hastings gently bit his lower lip, and it was Stephen who moaned. When Hastings shoved his thigh between Stephen’s and cupped Stephen’s behind in his hands, pulling him into it, Stephen thought he might collapse from the rush of desire that assailed him, if Hastings weren’t holding him up.

They both broke away from the kiss to gulp in deep breaths of cool air. Stephen felt every inch of Hastings that was pressed against him, the heat and hardness of him awakening the memory of Hastings’s naked body pressed to his the night before.

Hastings began to lean down toward Stephen, and Stephen’s eyes were drifting shut for another kiss when he heard a throat clearing nearby. He jerked away and Hastings let him go, his hands sliding off his bottom to his hips for a moment before he pulled his hands off him completely. Hastings gave him that lopsided smile.

“We’ve found you, then,” Hastings said, before he looked away, over Stephen’s shoulder.

“Were you lookin’ for me?” Essie asked. “That didn’t look like a search party. At least, not for my benefit.” She sounded highly amused.

Stephen straightened his jacket and let his ardor cool for a moment or two before he turned to Essie with a smile. “Where is Esme?” he asked her, his voice still a little breathless. “We feared for your virtue.”

“You might have warned me about her,” Essie said with a frown. “Her father arrived just in time, or she would have had me on the ground.”

“I think you’re more than capable of defending yourself,” Hastings said wryly.

“Yeah, well, not without a knife being involved, or at the very least my fists,” Essie told him. “I’m not keen on using either on her.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Stephen said with real relief. “Thank you. But you needn’t worry. Esme will not trespass where she is not wanted.”

“Don’t leave me alone with her again,” Essie warned. Stephen wasn’t sure if Essie was worried about Esme’s power of persuasion or her own lack of resistance.

“Have you seen Madelyn?” Hastings asked. “She’s lost in here somewhere with the duke, and I don’t know where in the bloody blazes we are.”

“Christ,” Essie muttered. “What kind of agent are you if you can’t get yourself out of a silly maze? No wonder Sir B sent me to rescue you.”

“I can find my way out,” Hastings argued. “But we didn’t find them behind us, and I don’t know the way in front of us yet.”

Stephen was suddenly alarmed. “Aren’t one of you supposed to be watching her at all times?”

“Bloody hell,” Hastings cursed in a low voice, putting his hands on his hips as he looked around. “I can’t believe the damn parson is the one reminding us.”

“Language, Hastings,” Stephen said, a little hurt at being referred to as “the damn parson”, particularly after their embrace.

“Sorry, sorry,” Hastings muttered, waving a hand at Stephen.

“Well, Freddy’s with her,” Stephen said. “If something was amiss, we’d know.”

“Right you are, Stephen,” Freddy said from behind Hastings. His unexpected appearance had them all jumping. “But, of course, nothing is amiss.” He stepped around Hastings and handed Madelyn off to Stephen, who automatically tucked her hand in his arm. “Mrs. Higgs has informed me of what is going on. I shall send someone around to check on you all at the parsonage from time to time. And I’m going to inform some carefully chosen compatriots, as well, since there is a slight danger to everyone, isn’t there?” He smiled at Madelyn. “But I’m sure you are all up to the task of protecting us.” He rubbed his hands together. “Now, let us go and eat. I’m starving. Do you know the way out?”

* * *

“Why the devil did you tell the duke?” Hastings asked, obviously annoyed with Maddy. Well, if he wanted her to care about his moods, he’d have to stop being annoyed with her, and as far as she could tell he’d been annoyed since she’d met him. He was thoroughly unpleasant, and the fact that he was so dashing and good looking only made him more so.

They were walking back to the parsonage from Ashton Park. Maddy wasn’t sure about getting so much fresh air. She’d heard that sort of thing was bad for the lungs. It did smell wonderful, though, fresh and brisk, like trees and hay.

“He gave me no choice,” she protested. “And I didn’t tell him everything. Just that someone was looking for me, and you and Essie were here to protect me. He figured out Sir Barnabas was involved, and exactly why he chose Ashton on the Green and the parsonage to hide me. I can’t bloody well help it if he’s too smart.”

“Language, my dear,” Stephen said quietly.

“There’s no one around to hear me, and I’m bloody tired of having to pretend to be someone I’m not,” she said, finally releasing some of the anger she’d been holding in check for weeks. “I wish he’d set me up as a maid at Ashton Park or something. I’d be better at polishing the silver than dining off of it.”

“You’d steal it,” Hastings said flatly. “He put you where we can keep an eye on you.”

“Really? Well, bang-up job of it, sheriff.” She stopped in the middle of the lane and faced him with hands on her hips. “If you hadn’t been so busy cuddling up with the parson you might have been doing your job, which is indeed to keep an eye on me. Which you weren’t.”

Maddy had been quite put out to discover the parson was a backdoor man. She’d been harboring fantasies of an ill-fated love affair with him. It might be rather pleasant to have a go with someone who was nice to her. Hastings also preferring men was a bit of a shock, however. He was so big and handsome and reassuringly solid, like a brick wall.

“Cuddling up?” Mr. Matthews said, sounding a little uncomfortable. “I’m sure you are mistaken. I wouldn’t call it that.” Maddy noticed Hastings didn’t say anything.

“You only get to lie to protect the innocent,” Essie reminded him, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying this row. “And I would call it that. Or worse.”

“Yes, well, you may keep the worse to yourself,” the parson said. “Hastings, you know Freddy. I’m sure he browbeat the poor woman, and she had no choice but to tell him. He is a formidable adversary when he wants something.”

“Exactly,” Maddy said, waving her hand in the air in the general direction of the parson. “See? He knows.”

“I have a feeling you’ve resisted coercion from men far scarier than the duke,” Hastings accused.

Like you? “My methods of avoidance are better suited to scum than royalty,” Maddy said primly. “It didn’t feel right using any of them on the duke, who’s just trying to protect his own.”

“Freddy isn’t royalty,” Mr. Matthews said, urging them all to begin walking again. He put his hand on Maddy’s elbow and guided her forward. “Aristocracy, yes. But no royal connections, at least as far as I know. I believe the grant was for services during the War of the Roses, although he doesn’t prattle on about it like some.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Maddy said impatiently. “I’m just an ignorant girl, parson. I can talk and walk and dress like one, but I’m not a lady. I didn’t have time for school when I was a child.” She’d always thought herself so clever, until she arrived here. Now she felt like the uneducated criminal she was.

“So, you keep saying,” Mr. Matthews said, “but I will treat you as I see fit, which is as a lady. And not all ladies are students of history, so that is neither here nor there.”

Maddy was silent for a moment, not sure how to respond to that. Part of her desperately wanted to live up to his expectations. “Thank you,” she finally said with as much dignity as she could find. “Have you got a book about it? I can read,” she assured him defensively. Books were quite dear, and she’d only read one or two in her life. She’d learned to read on broadsheets and advertisements.

“I have a modest library, although Freddy has a magnificent one. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind letting you borrow some of his books.”

Maddy was shaking her head before he finished. “He doesn’t want me around his family too much. You heard him. He's worried I might put them in danger.”

“Which brings me back to the main point,” Hastings said. “The more people who know why you’re here, the better the chances they’re going to find you.”

“Nonsense,” Mr. Matthews said, patting her hand on his arm. “Why would anyone in London pay attention to gossip from Ashton on the Green? For goodness’s sake, we are quite out of the way here. No one from London passes through unless they make a deliberate plan to come here. No, you are as safe as a babe, here, Miss Madelyn.”

“I don’t like it,” Hastings said, because he couldn’t not be contrary and unpleasant.

“You don’t have to,” the parson said, surprising Maddy. “I like it, and so you will accept it.”