Page 13 of Vanquished by a Viscount (Tales from the Brotherhood #3)

Six

A s soon as Gray shut his door, he leaned against it and tilted his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.

What sort of madness did his new sister-in-law have in mind?

Clearly, Barbara was not ignorant to the possibility of attachments between men.

She would not behave as she was if she did not approve of such attachments either.

And Robert had known about him and Charlie for years as well.

He wasn’t having any of it. With a huff, he pushed away from the door and reached for the hem of his damp shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside for one of the footmen who occasionally served as his valet to collect later.

He stomped toward the pitcher and washbasin that stood in the corner of his room and poured from one to the other a bit too enthusiastically, splashing water onto the table.

“I will not do it,” he grumbled as he tossed a round ball of soap into the basin, then toed off his shoes and fiddled with the fastenings of his trousers so he could push them down. “I will not be the butt of another’s joke, and I will not be a piece to be moved around on their game board.”

His words were bold and determined, but they felt hollow and weak as he stared down at his half-hard cock once he’d kicked his trousers aside.

Of course that part of him would have a mind of its own where Charlie was concerned.

It did not care about dignity and pride, it only remembered the scent of Charlie’s body and the tremulous feeling of hope that had come during the few moments when their conversation had been genuine.

He grabbed the sponge, dunked it in the soapy water, and began his ablutions.

He had liked Charlie once. It hadn’t all been about pleasure and indulgence those many years ago.

In Charlie, he thought he’d found a kindred soul, someone who shared the same interests and fascination with the advancements of the world they lived in.

He’d once dreamed that he could travel and explore the world with Charlie at his side, that the two of them could form some sort of company to develop transportation advancements.

He would have adored having Charlie by his side on the Continent.

He was not entirely certain whether he was hedonistic enough to have enjoyed the biddable young men of Spain or Italy with Charlie…

but even as he wondered that, images came to his mind of the two of them sharing a nubile young man with tanned skin and a cheeky smile between them.

“Dammit,” he hissed, scrubbing under one arm with particular ferocity. It helped nothing that he was naked and damp with fragrant, soapy water as the fantasy played out in his mind.

He forced himself to continue with the utilitarian task of bathing, willed himself to banish any and all sensual images from his mind.

But Charlie would not budge from his thoughts, and as he finished scrubbing his legs and moved on to sluicing water over his body to rinse away the soap, his cock grew ever more attentive.

With a growl, Gray gave up trying to resist his inconvenient inclinations.

Once he was rinsed, he threw the sponge back into the basin, turned to lean his back against the wardrobe near the washstand, and took himself in soapy hand.

His earlier idea to quickly bring himself off as a way to relieve the pressure had been a wise one.

He never should have gone out for a run, putting himself in the way of temptation.

He closed his eyes as he stroked his fist up and down his hard length and tugged at his balls with his other hand.

Charlie had looked gorgeous in the misty, morning light.

The man was perfection in so many ways, his strong face, his chestnut hair, his hazel eyes that glinted with emotion, even when he tried to hide his feelings.

Gray worked his cock faster, reveling in the friction of only soapy water to smooth the action, and squeezed his balls.

He let out a moan and rested his head back against the side of the wardrobe.

The hint of skin and chest hair he’d seen through Charlie’s open shirt was such a wicked tease.

He remembered what the bastard looked like naked, remembered the breadth of his chest, the tight muscles of his abdomen, the way his cock tended to stand straight up, its flared tip wide, when he was aroused.

He remembered what the musky liquid that beaded on that tip tasted like, the way it made his mouth water when he licked and sucked it away.

Gray groaned loudly, his body tensing as pleasure coursed through him. His seed spilled out over his hand in several copious bursts. What he lacked in projection he made up for in volume, and within seconds, his hand was a sticky mess.

He sagged against the wardrobe, panting and still holding himself as he came down from the high.

His fantasies of Charlie faded, and he was left feeling vaguely defeated and ashamed.

He should not have had to resort to getting himself off to clear his head of the bastard who had broken his heart and pushed him into the restless life of a wanderer, uncertain of where to land and build his nest.

There was nothing for it but to step back over to the washbasin, clean his hand and bits, then to dress and make himself presentable enough to join the rest of the house party guests for breakfast.

As he left his room, he glanced warily at the door across the hall from his, praying that Charlie wouldn’t step out at just that moment. And also praying that he would.

“No,” he hissed to himself, shaking his head and storming off down the hall. “Do not be ridiculous. You are not fool enough to be burned twice by the same flame.”

Even if a part of him craved that burn.

Gray stayed quiet through most of breakfast, telling himself he would do better to listen to the newly arrived Miss Abigale Martin chatter on about the shock of traveling through the night after her carriage had broken a wheel just before dusk the evening before than he would to add much to the conversation around the table.

He glanced continually to the breakfast room door, but when Charlie finally appeared, he snapped his head away and refused to so much as peek at his end of the table for the rest of the meal.

“I am certain you will all be delighted with the activity I have planned for us all this morning,” Barbara said, rising from her place near the center of the table once most people’s dishes were empty and the tea had gone cold.

“I am certain we will all enjoy whatever you have in mind for us, my dear,” Robert told her with an adoring smile.

Several of the ladies around the table smiled and sighed wistfully at the show of affection between the newlyweds, particularly when Barbara giggled happily at Robert’s praise.

Gray had to hold himself rigid so he did not turn to see what Charlie thought of his sister’s charming affection for his brother.

“I was very pleased to discover that Hawthorne House is in possession of several fine archery targets,” Barbara went on, “and lovely bows and arrows as well. I have decided that we shall have a tournament, as of old, on the west lawn this morning.”

“Oh, I am a champion archer,” Lady Suzanne said, smiling mischievously.

It took several of the guests, such as Lady Eudora, a moment to realize that the indomitable woman was teasing.

“I am certain you are a far better shot than me one way or another,” Pettigrew said, keeping the tone of the conversation light.

“And what is the prize for the victor of this tournament?” Mr. Gunnerson asked, grinning across the table at Lady Winifred as though he would seek to win her favor, like a knight of old.

“Oh!” Barbara said, suddenly flummoxed. “I had not thought of offering a prize.”

“Perhaps the prize could be the privilege of opening the dancing at the next ball,” Lord Iverson suggested.

“I think that is a splendid idea,” Lady Eudora said, her eyes wide and almost glassy as she gazed down the table at Pettigrew. “You are quite skilled at archery, are you not, Dr. Pettigrew?”

“Er, not particularly,” Pettigrew said.

Under any other circumstances, Gray would have chuckled at his friend’s discomfort and at the way Lady Eudora seemed so intent on pursuing him.

Had the woman not heard his teasing banter with Lady Suzanne just moments before?

He could not manage so much as a smile, however.

He was too unsettled by the sight of Charlie leaning over to say something to Mr. Lindhurst, who seemed eager to talk to him.

Gray shook his head and pushed his chair back to stand as soon as Robert did, indicating the meal was over.

He should have known better than to let his thoughts and feelings get away from him.

As soon as he made it out into the overcast morning along with the rest of the guests eager to try their hand at archery, he told himself that he would behave and continue on with his determination to have nothing to do with Charlie for the rest of the house party.

“Of course, there are not enough targets to give everyone their own for the tournament,” Barbara said once she had the attention of all her guests on the west lawn.

“Nor are there enough bows. But I am convinced it will not dampen our enjoyment if we form groups and share such equipment as we have.”

“I will form a group with Dr. Pettigrew,” Lady Eudora suggested at once, turning to the man and reaching out like she would grasp his arm.

Pettigrew saw the gesture coming and pretended to swat away an insect, which allowed him to step to the side and avoid the eager young woman.