Page 51 of Restored

Henry’s stomach churned. “Is that why he—is it true he took up with Lionel Skelton?”

Corbett’s brows drew together in a frown. “I’d forgotten about that,” he said. “Yes, he did. That was a bad business.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Well, I only heard about it after,” Corbett said, “but the story I got was that Skelton was a brute. Used his fists on Kit and one night went too far—left him in a bad way.”

“Christ,” Henry whispered. He felt sick.

“I used to make him beg for my cock like a dog.”

“Are you all right?” Corbett asked, frowning. “You’ve gone as white as a sheet, Avesbury.”

Henry swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I just—I didn’t know any of this. And the thing with Christopher being turned off by me? He never didanythingwrong, Corbett. That was allmyfault.” Henry took a deep, shuddering breath. “He suffered because of me.”

Corbett’s frown deepened. “Come with me. You need a drink.”

He was only vaguely aware of Corbett steering him towards a couple of armchairs and urging him to sit down. He sank into the comfortable leather, his mind racing, while Corbett summoned a servant and ordered brandy for them both.

“I shouldn’t have told you like that,” Corbett muttered when the servant had gone. “It must have been a shock.”

“It’s my fault,” Henry said. “I had no idea.”

“It was a long time ago,” Corbett said gently. “And look at Kit now. He must be worth a pretty penny. He owns this place and dresses as elegant as the finest dandy you ever did see. Whatever bad things might have happened, he overcame them.”

When the servant arrived with their brandy, Corbett fell silent, leaning back while the man set the glasses down on the table.

Henry lifted his as soon it was poured and threw back the contents in one go. The spirit burned his throat and a fresh wave of nausea rose in him, threatening to bring up his dinner. He swallowed hard and thankfully the feeling subsided.

“Do you remember Phineas Warren?” Corbett asked.

Puzzled, Henry looked up, meeting his friend’s serious gaze. “The name is familiar… wait, was he that old banker who used to go to the Lily with his own boy so he could watch him with other men?”

Corbett nodded. “That’s him. Well, that’s who Kit took up with after Skelton.”

Henry blinked, remembering the elderly banker and his pretty companion very well. It was all too easy to imagine Christopher as he had been then—pliable and lovely—sitting quietly at Warren’s feet with a collar around his neck.

Though not so much theKitof today, Henry thought, with his cutting comments and angry green gaze.

“They were together a good few years,” Corbett continued. “And Warren left Kit nicely set up, I heard. Nothing in the will—Warren was too smart for that, he made all the arrangements before he died. Wanted Kit to be looked after, he said. Course, he was so rich that what he gave Kit was a drop in the ocean compared to what his nephews and nieces got, but it must have been enough to start Redford's. And Kit’s made a great success of the place, I must say.”

“So I’ve heard,” Henry said faintly. And looking around he could see it was true—the furnishings were tasteful and expensive. Beyond this room, he could see a glimpse into the dining room next door, which was also bustling with well-dressed patrons. It all looked so respectable—it was difficult to believe there was anything debauched going on anywhere in the building.

It wasn’t a bit like the Golden Lily. Christ, the second you walked in that place, you knew you were in a brothel. All those scantily clad young beauties… But Henry could already see that Redford’s catered to an entirely different sort of customer.

Yes, Kit had made a success of his life—no thanks to Henry.

“So you see,” Corbett said gently, “you don’t need to feel so terrible. Kit’s done all right. Better than most that come from where he did.” He smiled. “And he can’t be holding a grudge, or you wouldn’t be here, would you? He’s very particular about who he lets over the door. You need at least two personal recommendations from existing members, and Kit’s own approval to even be considered.”

Henry couldn’t hold back a laugh at Corbett’s assumption that Kit hadapprovedhim, though he feared he might sound somewhat deranged. Corbett wasn’t to know why Kit had really invited Henry here.

It was as that thought crossed his mind that he quite suddenly, and viscerally, realised the full import of what he had agreed to do tonight. To get down on his knees in this place and let the man who had once been his kept boy fuck his face in front of anyone who cared to watch.

Oh God.

Henry groaned and covered his face with his hands. His stomach churned, and his blood ran cold. What had he been thinking to agree to such a thing?

But he had agreed. Hehad.