Page 3 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish

“You spoil me,” Mainwaring said happily.

“Well, you’re very easy to spoil,” Lysander assured him. “Dinner at seven, all right?”

Moments later, Mainwaring was sweeping up the stairs with the two footmen in his wake, laden with boxes and trunks.

“So,” Zander said, turning to Perry with a smile. “You’ll have gathered that’s Jonny Mainwaring, Adam’s dearest friend since...” He glanced at his lover in enquiry. “How long have you known each other?”

“Oh, forever,” Adam said. “Twenty years at least.” He yawned.

Zander smiled fondly at him. “You need a nap,” he said. “You’ll be falling asleep in your dinner if you don’t rest.”

“Very well,” Adam said. He waggled his brows at Zander. “Come and tuck me in?”

Zander laughed softly, a faint flush heating his cheeks.

Perry’s stomach twisted.

Zander turned to Perry again. “Drawing room at seven, Per?”

“Perfect,” Perry murmured. He was rewarded with a brief smile before Zander and Adam hurried upstairs, anxious for their long-awaited reunion.

Perry sighed inwardly as he watched them go. The way Zander and Adam looked at each other made his heart ache in good and bad ways. He was pleased his friend was so happy—of course he was—but he could not imagine ever having what they shared, and that made him a little sad.

In truth he couldn’t even imagine having considerably less than they had. Even a tumble between the sheets with a willing man felt like too much to hope for.

Unaccountably, at that thought, he remembered the sight that had greeted him when he’d stepped through the door a few minutes before. Copper hair, the comeliest face he’d seen in a long while, and that light voice, just dripping with teasing promise.

“The Honourable Jonathan Mainwaring at your service… Hopefully…”

He flushed again at the memory, but this time he smiled too.

Feeling foolish to be smiling on his own, he fought the irresistible tug at the corners of his mouth, biting back the smile as best he could, but it grew inside him, an expanding good feeling he carried with him up the stairs and into his bedchamber.

2

Jonny

Jonny considered his appearance in the full-length looking glass in his bedchamber.

Too much?he wondered, eyeing his new waistcoat. It was very beautiful, a riot of azure and purple butterflies embroidered on sky-blue silk. It was rather wonderful matched with his otherwise starkly black coat and pantaloons.

Perhaps it was a bit much for a simple country dinner with friends…

Jonny pouted at himself in the mirror.

He liked the waistcoat exceedingly. And really, Adam and Lysander were hardly going to mind, were they? Besides, he liked the idea of dazzling that young god he’d met earlier.

Lord Peregrine Cavendish.

All those muscles and still blushing like a schoolboy. Jonny grinned at his reflection, remembering the way the man’s face had heated just from a little gentle teasing.

Even better was the way his avid gaze had eaten Jonny up.

Jonny returned his attention to his waistcoat. “Fuck it!” he announced cheerfully to the empty room. “I’m wearing it!” And with that, he turned on his heel and left the bedchamber.

When he entered the drawing room a minute later, it was to find Adam already there, sitting in an armchair by the fire with a glass of garnet-red wine and a contented expression on his face.

“Well,” Jonny said, strolling towards him. “Someonelooks like the cat that got the cream. Did Lysander give you a warm welcome home?”