Page 15 of Vanquished by a Viscount (Tales from the Brotherhood #3)

Seven

F or an event held in the middle of summer, Barbara’s house party turned distinctly cold after those first few days.

Charlie told himself that he’d meant nothing by the way he’d goaded Grayson during the archery competition.

It was just a bit of fun, which was what social occasions in the countryside should have been.

Gray had been far too serious and determined to best him.

He could not have known how skilled Charlie was with a bow and arrow. The teasing had come naturally.

Charlie supposed that the days of frosty behavior from Grayson, sitting at the opposite end of the dining table, turning his chair away from Charlie’s during evenings in the billiards room, snubbing him in the hallways, and the like, had come naturally to the man as well.

He had hated Charlie for years, and since hot hatred had not worked for him thus far, the man likely thought it was time for cold hatred.

Though there had been nothing cold about the kiss they’d shared in the shed while fetching the targets.

Days on, Charlie still had that kiss in his thoughts.

He craved more of the taste of Gray’s mouth and the scent of his skin.

He’d remembered too well the way his body reacted to Gray’s with just the slightest touch, the rush of blood and the bursts of pleasure that came with knowing the man intimately.

He sighed and shook his head as he lay in bed days later, listening to the battering of rain against the windowpane.

Thoughts of that kiss combined with memories of the way Grayson had not so much as looked at him the evening before, when the ladies were exhibiting their musical skills in the conservatory, but had clearly been aware of him through the entire entertainment made for an uncomfortable awakening.

Morning tumescence was normal and natural, but Charlie’s half-hard cock begged him to take it in hand while fantasizing about the past, and a potential future, with Gray.

“Gray was right, damn him,” Charlie muttered, tossing aside his bedcovers and getting up to stomp across the room to the chamber pot behind a screen in the corner of his room. “We should stay as far away from each other as possible.”

If he was already obsessed after something as simple as an accidental kiss, there was no telling what tortures being in Gray’s presence would cause his vulnerable mind.

But as he’d already learned with Barbara’s interventions the day of the archery contest, vowing to stay far away from someone and actually being able to do as much while at the mercy of a meddling sister and a party filled with eager company were two entirely different things.

“This rain is deeply distressing,” Barbara confided in him after breakfast, as her guests availed themselves of various small activities she’d quickly sought out for them that could be done in the house. “Three days of rain is bad enough, but we are now in the fourth, and I see no end in sight.”

“Your guests seem content enough,” Charlie said, glancing across the library they had decamped to after breakfast.

He attempted to simply let his eyes pass over Gray, who sat in a chair by one of the rain-soaked windows, reading a book, but it was next to impossible not to pause and dwell on the man.

He was the picture of gorgeous brooding as he lounged in his chair, a frown creasing his brow as he stared intently at his book.

Any of the great masters could have held him there and painted him and sold their work for enough to impress a sultan.

“They most certainly are not content,” Barbara whispered frantically, tugging on Charlie’s sleeve to gain his attention once more.

“Look at them. They are squirming and impatient for exercise and a change of scenery. Lady Winifred’s Aunt Violet said she was considering taking Winifred home if the dullness continued.

Charlie scoffed. “She is not a very marriage-minded chaperone, then,” he said. “Nothing brings people together more swiftly than forcing them into close proximity.”

Barbara hummed, but Charlie could see from the way she bit her lip that his sister did not share his opinion that nature would take its course and create matches.

“You could always lead your guests on an excursion to someplace other than Hawthorne House,” Charlie suggested, shifting so he could rest a comforting hand on the small of Barbara’s back. “Is there no place nearby that your guests might enjoy as a day’s excursion?”

Barbara furrowed her brow and pressed her lips together for a moment, then gasped and glanced up at Charlie. “Mrs. May’s tea shop,” she said as if inspired.

“I beg your pardon?” Charlie asked.

Barbara had already grasped hold of her idea, however, and stepped forward, clapping her hands together to gain the attention of her guests.

“I’ve had the most marvelous idea,” she said in a bright and cheery voice that stood in direct contrast to the driving rain.

“We have been trapped indoors for too many days, but we do not have to remain trapped. I shall have the carriages called around to take us into Maidstone, to the establishment of one Mrs. May, who serves the best tea and cakes in Kent.”

Barbara’s idea was met enthusiastically by her guests.

Charlie raised his eyebrows slightly at the speed with which the mood in the library shifted from somewhat subdued to buzzing with anticipation.

The footmen were sent off at once to alert the stableman that every one of Hawthorne House’s carriages would be needed, and several of the ladies rushed up to their rooms to collect outerwear suitable for the rain.

Charlie smiled at his sister’s ingenuity, but it happened that Gray glanced up from his book when that warm fondness was still on his face.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, despite the vitriol of Grayson’s hatred of him, a flash of energy passed between them.

The spark in Gray’s eyes was intense, but it was not revulsion. Far from it.

“I will assist the footmen in organizing the carriages,” Charlie said at once, turning away from Gray and the rush of feeling that reverberated around his body like a bee caught in a jar.

He left the library before Barbara could question him or rightly inform him that the footmen knew what they were doing a great deal more than he did when it came to carriages.

Charlie was well aware that he would be as useful as a bunion as he fetched his greatcoat and made his way to the front terrace, where some of the carriages had already been drawn around to receive guests, but anything was better than staying within sight of Gray’s smoldering looks.

“We should have the ladies in their carriages and the gentlemen in others,” Lady Patience suggested as the younger women gathered together at one side of the front hall. “It is only proper.”

“Should we not mix ladies and gentlemen so as to facilitate conversation?” Mr. Lindhurst asked the ladies with a roguish wink.

“I would not be averse to traveling with Lord Iverson,” Lady Winifred said with a subtle smile.

“Only if I travel with you,” her Aunt Violet muttered.

“I believe we must be as practical about arrangements as we can,” Barbara said, peeking out through the open doors of the front hall as the last of the five carriages arrived to join the line.

Immediate pandemonium followed. At first, Lady Winifred had her wish and piled into a carriage along with Lord Iverson.

Miss Martin joined them, as did Mr. Gunnerson, but in quick order, Aunt Violet cried foul, disallowing the combination of high-spirited young people.

She proposed at first to place Lady Winifred in the carriage with Lady Suzanne and Lady Carolina, but those two had already secured the company of Lady Patience and her chaperone.

When that proved untenable, she took Lady Winifred out of her carriage and placed her in the last carriage with Charlie.

Robert and Barbara had joined Charlie in the last and oldest carriage of the line at first, while people continued to leap in and out of the vehicles as though they were at some sort of country entertainment.

“I would not wish for your guests to travel so far in this old thing,” Robert said with a smile for Barbara when it seemed as if they might finally be settled.

A moment later, a commotion rose up as Lady Eudora made a fuss about wanting to travel in a carriage with Dr. Pettigrew. Try as he did to dissuade her, Pettigrew could not convince the young woman that she would much rather travel with some of her lady companions.

“Do go and rescue the man,” Charlie murmured to Robert with a smirk.

Laughing, Robert took himself out of the last carriage, and when he did, Barbara insisted on coming with him.

Mr. Lindhurst ended up in Charlie’s carriage for a brief moment, muttering about blasted chaperones and impediments to enjoying himself.

He leapt out again at the last moment and dashed into the carriage containing Lady Suzanne, Lady Carolina, and more specifically, Lady Patience just as that carriage rolled forward.

For a handful of baffling seconds, Charlie was alone in the last carriage. Before he could do more than form the thought that there was a chance he could forego the entire mad excursion and slink back into the house, Grayson leapt into the carriage with him.

“Oh, God, no,” Charlie muttered, rolling his eyes.

Grayson had a similar reaction when he saw the sole inhabitant of the carriage he’d just lunged into as the rain picked up. “No,” he said, shaking his head and leaning toward the door as if he would jump right out again.

It was too late, though. Whether because he’d been given some signal or out of pure exasperation, their driver had already set the carriage in motion, and the strength of the rain was an additional deterrent.

“Not a word from you,” Gray said, flopping back into the rear-facing seat and crossing his arms. “Do not so much as look at me.”