Page 14 of Seduced by a Scoundrel (Tales from the Brotherhood #1)

Fourteen

I t was the most glorious morning awakening of his life. Jeremy had not thought it possible to sleep so soundly when such momentous things had taken place the night before, but despite his desperate need for a wash, he’d slept the night away, safe in Derrek’s arms, and he’d awakened in more or less the same state as he had nearly every morning of their sweet country interlude.

“Good morning,” Derrek’s gruff, sleepy voice enveloped him as he stretched and breathed in his lover’s scent and the fresh, morning air.

Derrek had apparently opened the window beside the bed at some point in the night, which Jeremy was grateful for. It allowed not only a freshening breeze and morning light, but the sound of birdsong into the cottage with it. Such things were right and perfect for the way Jeremy felt in his heart.

“Good morning to you, as well,” he said, snuggling closer to Derrek.

As always seemed to be the case, he was half hard with morning excitement. Unlike every other morning, his state of involuntary arousal was deeply welcome and made him smile.

It did more than that. Rather than shrinking away from Derrek or hiding himself in embarrassment, he shifted so that he lay on top of his champion, their cocks pressed together under them, and moved just enough to create friction that would wake them even more.

Derrek chuckled deep in his throat and smiled up at Jeremy. He had one arm bent behind his head as a pillow already, but he moved the other one to Jeremy’s backside, squeezing him possessively. Better still, he stroked his fingers through the cleft of Jeremy’s cheeks as if seeking out what he wanted from him but had been denied the night before, though through no fault of Jeremy’s own. He had been willing to give Derrek everything, but nature and Derrek’s mouth had had other plans.

“Someone is in a lively mood this morning,” Derrek said, less drowsy by the moment, but still languid.

“I feel as if we have unfinished business from last night,” Jeremy said, finding it to be the easiest thing imaginable to play the amorous lover with Derrek.

“Unfinished?” Derrek’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he gazed up at Jeremy in the morning light. “Love, you finished it in my throat and I finished all over you.”

He swept his hand around to Jeremy’s front and the dried bits of that evidence that still clung to him.

Part of Jeremy was mortified that he was still such a mess. The rest of him adored being a mess for Derrek.

“I feel as though I could begin and finish again,” he said, leaning closer to Derrek’s mouth.

He intended to kiss his lover long and deep, but Derrek stopped and surprised him by pressing a finger to his lips.

He raised one eyebrow, then, instead of saying anything, he reached over to the table beside the bed. Jeremy hadn’t noticed the odd collections of items sitting there, but among them were a slightly wilted sprig of mint and a glass of water.

“First things first,” Derrek said, taking a leaf from the mint for himself and chewing it, then handing one to Jeremy.

Jeremy laughed as soon as he realized his lover’s intent. He took his mint leaf and ate it, then sat up enough to reach for the glass of water, swallowing a few mouthfuls before handing it to Derrek.

Derrek had to sit up to drink the water, but the resulting position was much to Jeremy’s liking. Derrek was so much bigger than him, and there was something satisfying about sitting straddling his lap, his knees pushed into the pillows behind Derrek, as they kissed and caressed each other.

It was everything having a lover was meant to be, mint-tasting breath and all. Derrek was powerful, and yet Jeremy could feel and admired his restraint. He felt more free than he ever had and angled his hips against Derrek’s so that their now hard cocks could rub against each other while their mouths worshiped each other.

“I want you,” Derrek growled as the intensity of the moment increased. He grabbed Jeremy’s arse cheeks in both hands and pulled them apart so that he could caress Jeremy’s hole with his fingertips.

Jeremy lowered his head slightly, breathing heavily through the pleasure of that most secret touch, but he was uncertain. “I’ve not cleaned,” he admitted, though Derrek must have known it. Heat flooded his face as much as it filled his groin.

“I do not care,” Derrek said, increasing the pressure of his fingers’ exploration. “We can wash afterwards. I brought some grease in last night.

Jeremy peeked to the side and gusted out a breath when he spotted a small jar of grease on the table. His insides shivered with expectation and his cock dripped with excitement at the prospect of enjoying that filled and possessed sensation with Derrek, but decorum still had him uncertain.

“I want to,” he said hesitantly, proving his desire by reaching between them to grasp both of their members together and stroking. “I’ve never had congress without meticulous hygiene first.”

Derrek laughed, long and low. “You are amazing, my sweet dove,” he said, then slanted his mouth over Jeremy’s in a kiss.

It was so possessive and all-encompassing that Jeremy was ready to throw his inhibitions out the window and let Derrek have him however he wanted.

A distinct rustling outside the window stopped them both, however.

“What is that?” Jeremy whispered, clinging to Derrek more tightly as they both turned to the open window.

“Probably some forest animal,” Derrek said, though he kept his voice quiet and held Jeremy possessively close.

They listened, and the sound came again. This time, it was accompanied by low, human muttering.

That was all Jeremy needed to know they were in trouble. He scrambled to untangle himself from Derrek and stumbled off the bed. Their clothes were still scattered around the floor from the night before. Derrek had taken time to fetch the water, mint, and grease from elsewhere in the cottage, but he had not bothered to clean up.

None of that mattered now, and perhaps it made it easier for Jeremy to snatch up his things to dress as Derrek rolled closer to the window, looking out.

“Who is it?” Jeremy hissed. “Do you see anyone?”

Derrek shook his head, then turned and gestured for Jeremy to be quiet.

Jeremy finished dressing, listening as best he could to the sounds outside the cabin. Sure enough, whoever had wandered into their lonely part of the woods was still outside. By the sound of things, they had wandered around to the front garden.

Derrek pushed back from the window and climbed out of bed. He took a few moments to dress with Jeremy helping him find his clothing in the right order. Once they were both decent, they crept out to the cottage’s main room.

Their haste to get to bed the night before was evident in the way the fires in both the stove and the fireplace had gone out completely. The front room was cool. Derrek had not opened the windows on that side of the house during the night so it was harder to hear what was happening outside in the garden.

Derrek gestured for Jeremy to stay low as they made their way to the settee so that they could look cautiously out into the dawn forest and the clearing around the house. Jeremy nearly cried out when he spotted a man’s back bent over, searching for something in one of the flower beds. He ducked down low, peering up at Derrek as though his lover were his only hope.

“Is he looking for the snail?” Derrek murmured.

It took Jeremy a moment to catch up to what his lover meant by that. By the time he did, it was too late.

“Must be elsewhere,” the bent-over man said.

He didn’t need to straighten for Jeremy to know who he was. Though he’d only heard the voice once and briefly, it was something he would never forget. It was Sir John Conroy’s accomplice.

“It’s him,” Jeremy whispered, scrambling back from the window and backing deeper into the room.

Derrek did not look surprised, which worried Jeremy even more. He stepped back and away from the window and the settee as well, then headed straight for the cottage’s door.

“What are you doing?” Jeremy hissed.

Not heeding him, Derrek yanked open the front door, which they had not thought to lock the night before, just as the form of Lord Albert Howard stood in the doorway with his arms stretched up.

The man looked to be searching for a key above the lintel, which was precisely where Derrek had been hiding it, but it was not there. Instead, when the door opened on him, Lord Albert’s face widened into a look of shock. He hollered in fright and stumbled back.

That initial surprise transformed into a much deeper fear as recognition lit Lord Albert’s face. He shouted again, his arms windmilling as he backed up, like he was not certain whether to fight or to flee from Derrek. His eyes grew larger and larger, and he shouted, “You!”

“Lord Albert,” Derrek growled, pursuing the man out of the house like a lion stalking his prey. “You, my lord, are meant to be on the Continent.”

Jeremy followed Derrek outside, too stunned at first by Lord Albert’s sudden appearance and the fact that he seemed to know Derrek to think much of revealing himself. Lord Albert was clearly the more terrified of the three of them.

“What are you doing here?” he stammered. “This cottage is abandoned. No one knows of its existence.”

The man clearly believed that. Jeremy wondered if he’d thought he’d found in the cottage a place to hide, just as he and Derrek had.

“You!” Lord Albert called out a second time as he spotted Jeremy. “Conroy has been looking everywhere for you.”

With those few words, Jeremy knew his time idling away in the country with Derrek was at an end. The dream was over and the fate that he could not escape was in the forefront of his worries once more.

“I cannot imagine what you mean,” he said all the same, glancing around frantically for some means of escape, or at least something he could use as a weapon against Lord Albert.

As it happened, he had no need to worry about any of that. Derrek was his weapon, and he was an effective one.

Derrek marched right up to Lord Albert, despite his bare feet, and grabbed the man by the front of his jacket. “You were told to go to the Continent and to never return,” he growled, more menacing than Jeremy had ever seen him. “You and your wicked, deceitful father both.”

“You…you cannot expect me to waste my life in Italy when my inheritance and entry to power are here in England,” Lord Albert defended himself in a clumsy rush.

“Did I not tell you all those years ago what would happen to you if you returned?” Derrek asked, shaking the man for good measure.

Jeremy’s eyebrows shot up. Derrek had mentioned his previous encounter with Lord Albert, but until that moment, Jeremy had not grasped the reality of it.

Fortunately for him, Lord Albert seemed absolutely terrified of Derrek.

“Please! Please let me go,” Lord Albert said, bursting into tears, which seemed only right, considering the man’s character. “It was all a misunderstanding. Lady Suzanne was a part of it as much as I was.”

Jeremy had no understanding of what the man meant, but he had no need for particulars to know Lord Albert was the worst sort of man imaginable.

“You are part of a plot to commit regicide in order for Sir John Conroy to control the throne through a regency,” he said, stepping forward with as much righteous anger as he could muster. “You tried to kill me, on more than one occasion.”

“Conroy!” Lord Albert shouted. “It is Conroy’s plot, and the Duchess of Kent’s, not mine! I was simply acting as a servant so that I might return to favor once they are in power.”

“It will not happen,” Derrek said, shaking Lord Albert once more. “You are an attempted murderer and a rapist. Your crimes will be exposed and punished.”

“No! Please, please! Moreland would murder me if he knew I had returned,” Lord Albert whined.

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “So you have no qualms about murdering a king or a tailor, but you turn squeamish when the murderous intent is directed at you?”

Derrek adjusted his grip so that he held his hand around Lord Albert’s throat and asked through clenched teeth, “Where is your father?”

“Italy! Italy!” Lord Albert choked. “He is in Italy!”

Derrek must have squeezed, because Lord Albert’s eyes bulged before he let him go and pushed him away. Once out of his grip, Lord Albert coughed and sputtered and bent forward.

“You will return to your father in Italy at once,” Derrek ordered him. “Go back to the manor house of Maidstone Close to gather your things, if you have anything there to gather. It is my suspicion that you only just arrived in the village and that you intended to hide in this cottage until some anticipated action has come to pass.”

Jeremy blinked and turned to Derrek. It was a good guess and probably accurate.

“The king is dying. Everyone says so,” Lord Albert said, his voice hoarse. “Princess Victoria does not turn eighteen for another week or so yet. Once Conroy’s regency is established, he and the Duchess will extend it as long as possible to solidify their power. I will return to London and?—”

“You will do nothing!” Derrek shouted. “You will take your things and book passage on the next ship sailing for Italy, if you know what is good for you.”

“You cannot tell me?—”

Derrek made an almost comical roaring sound and jerked toward Lord Albert. Lord Albert screamed at such a high pitch that it startled the birds in the trees around the cottage clearing then turned to dash off down the patch, damp spreading down the legs of his breeches.

“What a swine,” Derrek said. He shook his head then spat in the dirt as if he needed to clear a sour taste from his mouth.

When he turned back to Jeremy, he wore a triumphant grin. That grin did not last long, however.

“We need to pack our things to return to London at once,” he said, sadness and defeat in his voice.

“I know,” Jeremy said, his own feelings of grief and loss for what had been so beautiful for such a brief time pinching him. Derrek moved closer, and when he stood in front of Jeremy, Jeremy rose a hand to rest on the side of his stubbly face. “You know we could not have stayed here indefinitely, though.”

Derrek looked surprisingly stricken by the comment. In his eyes, Jeremy saw a charming story of the two of them living out their days in that sort of peaceful setting fade away.

“We still have London,” he said, trying to keep his smile. “It will be a joy to return to our friends and businesses.”

Derrek grunted and nodded, then walked past him into the cottage. Jeremy let out a heavy breath. They truly were happy in their cottage in the woods. God only knew what sort of trials awaited them in London.

“I’ve no doubt that whether Lord Albert returns directly to the Continent or not,” Derrek said several minutes later, as the two of them hastily packed their things and set the cottage back into as close to order as could be done with no notice, “he will find a way to send word to Conroy of your whereabouts.”

“With any luck, Conroy will be searching here instead of London until Princess Victoria’s birthday,” Jeremy replied.

Again, Derrek replied with only a grunt.

The two of them did what needed to be done as quickly as possible, then set out for the village. They could have gone straight to Aylesford, where they were more likely to catch a mail coach, but Jeremy could not leave without first saying goodbye to Clary.

“Just like that? You’re leaving?” Clary asked, heartbreak in her eyes when Jeremy entered her shop and broke the news.

“I must go,” Jeremy said with a slight, helpless shrug. “The men who have been searching for me have found me.” He had agreed with Derrek not to tell much more of the story than that to Clary, lest she be discovered as Jeremy’s friend and interrogated by the wrong people.

“I do not know what I will do without you,” Clary said, bursting into tears and throwing her arms around Jeremy.

Jeremy hugged her back as though she were a sister. He had never had a friend as close as Clary, and it was its own kind of tragedy that the two of them must be parted.

“If you are ever in London,” he told her, holding her at arm’s length and looking earnestly into her eyes, “you must search me out at once. My tailoring shop is on Jermyn Street, and if ever you find yourself in need of employment, if ever you want to change your life and your fortunes entirely, you must come to me at once.”

“I will, my friend, I will,” Clary said, then threw herself at him again.

It was the most painful goodbye Jeremy had ever been forced to make.

“If I did not know any better, I might be jealous,” Derrek said with a sympathetic look as the two of them left the shop and continued to the Three Bells to inquire of Martin whether there would be a late mail coach passing through or whether they would need to go to Aylesford.

Jeremy sniffled and wiped his eyes, trying his best to behave in a manner more seemly for a gentleman when his heart was broken. “Friendships are as true a form of love as any,” he said sadly. “I shall miss my friend most acutely.”

Derrek reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I swear to you that you and Miss Jones will sew together and create mischief together again someday. I swear to you that this matter of Princess Victoria and Sir John Conroy and the enmity that that man has for you will end as well if it is the last thing I ever do.”

“I sincerely hope it is not the last thing,” Jeremy said, his heart overflowing with affection for his champion. “I have a great many more things I should like to do with you before everything is over and done.”

Derrek chuckled and squeezed his shoulder once more. There were no guarantees that they would find any greater happiness or safety in London than they’d found in the country, but at least he could return to his shop at last, and at least they could still strive to be together.