Restrained, page 3
Robert had no trouble finding a hack, and he told the driver to take him back to the office. Once underway, he tried to sort through the people around Ed Greensleigh. There had been two nephews, he remembered. The older… well, the older would not have been walking around a brothel, lost, with spend on his face. He would have been upstairs entertaining the most expensive woman in the place if Ed was to be believed. That must have been Matthew, the younger, although still too old for his father to have been getting him a whore for his first time. Come to think of it, Ed had always suspected Matthew to be like him, interested in men, not women, but he had died before he could find out if it were true or not. He had certainly been closer to the younger. Maybe the father was trying for a cure.
Robert was going to file that thought away, until another thought brushed the back of his mind. He shoved it away, but it wouldn't leave. Lord Dixon only liked men for his concubines and centerpieces. If the lad had been in the room with Dixon... But Ed had always said he was a sensible boy, smart and quiet; that’s why they had been close. He wouldn’t have volunteered for something like that. But perhaps a private arrangement? Two gentlemen visiting each other on occasion?
Robert chuckled. The little innocent wasn’t for him. And he didn’t visit anyone more than once or twice. It was nostalgia, nothing more. He just needed to get his mind off the past. He’d made his appearance at Dixon’s, been seen by the right people. He’d get a bit of work done at the office then go to Rosamond’s. He liked Rosamond’s. It was more elegant than any place Dixon had, and the men were discrete. He was liked there too, with a reputation as someone who paid well and knew what he was doing.
Chapter 3
***
MATTHEW GAVE UP ON WAITING for his father. He didn’t think he could bear the ride home in the carriage anyway, a few inches away from him. What if he started talking about what would be expected? What if he just sat there? Father wouldn’t be pleased if he had to go looking around the brothel for him, but then he wasn’t pleased with much of anything Matthew did. Even his attempts to help with the business were met with scorn and lists of faults.
Matthew gathered up what was left of his courage and approached one of the stern-looking men by the front door. “Good day.” Was that how to even begin?
The man merely stared at him. Did he know what had been agreed to in that blasted smoking room?
“If my father, Sir Hector Greensleigh, should be looking for me, would you please tell him I’ve taken a hackney cab home?”
“Very good, sir.”
Was he supposed to slip the man a coin? The man didn’t look like he was expecting it. Blast, he had to get away. It wasn’t like he’d be coming back here, or if he did, it would be in a state where forgetting to give servants proper vails would be the least of his worries.
On the same line of thought, Matthew knew it was foolish to be worried about hailing a hack in front of a known brothel and even more foolish to be worried about doing so on the next street over where he was certain the row of carriages belonged to the men still inside Dixon’s. But despite that, he walked three blocks before he felt comfortable hailing a cab and telling the driver to take him home. As he climbed in, he was certain the man could tell where he’d been, even though he said nothing. At least Sir Robert had helped him to clean up.
As he settled back in the seat, more to hide from the windows than for comfort, he let himself think about the encounter. But he was surprised when his mind didn’t stray to Lord Dixon or what he’d done. Instead, all he could think was why did it have to be Sir Robert he ran into? Certainly, the man had been kind enough, but Sir Robert Farnsdale of all people. That had been the one thing at school that had made the others admire him; he knew Sir Robert Farnsdale. He’d merely been Robert Farnsdale for most of that time, a few years older than they were, called to run the family business after his father had run away from some gambling debts or an angry mistress or a gang of homicidal pirates—the stories had never been clear on what had happened to cause the man to disappear—and making a fortune with it while participating in the most scandalous affairs, all carefully covered up and merely speculated about. Uncle Neddy had always seemed to think the worst of them were true, but he would laugh whenever a lady’s name was mentioned. He’d been knighted shortly before Uncle Neddy had died, something to do with supplying a Herculean amount of cloth to the army. Or was it blankets? Cloth to be made into blankets maybe, Matthew couldn’t remember. Uncle Neddy had been invited to the celebration, and all Matthew really remembered was how handsome Sir Robert had been, dressed in a dark blue wool coat and buff breeches, standing out in the sea of uniforms that were supposed to make men irresistible to the ladies.
Matthew leaned forward to stare out the window. He’d thought he’d spend the entire ride home thinking about what Lord Dixon expected him to do. Instead, all he seemed able to think about was how, if it had been Sir Robert ordering him to bend over the chair, he’d have done it willingly, how if it had been Sir Robert standing before him with his breeches open, Matthew would happily have taken him in his mouth, licked the hard length offered to him, and tried desperately to please. Maybe that would be the key to surviving Lord Dixon. He could imagine it was Sir Robert doing those things. No, that wouldn’t work. Sir Robert was beautiful; Lord Dixon was fierce and hard. Besides, Sir Robert would never have shared him with anyone. He smiled. The Sir Robert in his head at least. The real Sir Robert wouldn’t spare a thought for him. Maybe that wasn’t entirely true. He was probably wondering if the little fool he’d rescued had made it home safely or something like that. Certainly not the sort of thoughts Matthew was entertaining.
Matthew was surprised when the hack stopped and he looked out to see the family townhouse. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t realized how far they’d traveled. He paid the driver, got out, and hurried up the front steps, a little surprised to realize that nothing had changed there when so much had happened at Lord Dixon’s.
Inside the house, he found one change. The front hall was filled with travel cases. Matthew hadn’t been told anyone was coming, but that wasn’t unusual. He was usually the last to know about anything in the household. He tried to find the labels on the cases; maybe he could see a name or a location that would give him a clue who had arrived. After his encounter with Lord Dixon, he really did not want to see anyone, to have to make polite conversation over dinner, or to stand around in the drawing room, watching his father smoke and chat as if nothing had happened.
Matthew heard footsteps in the hallway above, and then a voice called down over the railing. “Mattie! I was wondering why you weren’t here to greet me.”
He looked up and saw his brother, Hector Greensleigh III, coming down the stairs.
“It’s been years, Matthew, old fellow. How goes things?” It was the tone of voice he would have used for an acquaintance from his university days, but he was the best Matthew had at the moment.
“Hec, I am so glad to see you.”
“Well now, isn’t that nice to come home to?”
If only he could find the right words, the ones that would convince Hec to help him. “I need help.”
“Ah now, Mattie old boy, you need to learn to get yourself out of these messes. Or get Father to do it for you.”
Matthew suspected Father had gotten Hec out of more than one mess in his time. “Father’s gotten me into it.”
“Then I’m sure it’s going to be fine. You’re just not looking at it right. Where is he?”
Matthew swallowed. “Lord Dixon’s townhouse in Covent Gardens.”
“Lord Dixon’s! Well, I think it’s time I went looking for him, speed up our happy reunion.”
“Please, Hec, please take my side in this. I don’t think I can...” He couldn’t even tell his brother what was going to be expected of him. “Please, Hec, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Got some girl lined up for you to marry?”
“No, it’s so much worse.”
Hec clapped him on the shoulder. “You worry too much, Mattie. I’ll see you at dinner, if I’m back from Lord Dixon’s by dinner.”
Matthew watched his one chance at a savior walk out of the house. He should have told him, should have said it in such a way that Hec would understand. Now Father would tell him about the contract, the contract Matthew had signed, and tell him in such a way that Hec would see Father’s side as being right. Of course, Hec would probably see Father’s side as being right no matter what Matthew said. It had been a slim chance at best.
{--*--}
Robert spent the morning after his visit to Dixon’s brothel trying not to snap at anyone who passed him. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own that he’d barely slept the night before. Somewhere in all the tossing and turning, he’d placed the lad. Matthew Greensleigh had been with Ed at Robert’s knighthood ceremony, young and shy and hiding behind his uncle. Robert had been jealous of the boy who had a legitimate claim on his friend’s attention. He wasn’t a lad now, though. And a fair bit of the tossing and turning had been caused by Robert imagining what the lad could have been doing in the room with Lord Dixon before he’d run out. That had quickly turned into thoughts of what the lad could do with Robert in a private room in a well-stocked brothel. That slim, smooth body spread out before him, cuffed to the bedposts perhaps, struggling just enough to test the chains, but not seriously trying to get away. Robert would bring out his favorite flogger and run the leather down the naked chest, watching the lad shiver in anticipation, those brown eyes going dark with desire. Then stepping back and breaking the contact, he would walk into position as the lad pulled against the chains, this time to see where he had gone and when he would begin.
Robert pulled his mind back to reality. He did have a claim to acquaintance with the lad. The lad had recognized him the night before. Surely, he would acknowledge him if he stopped by the family’s townhouse and left a card, maybe an offer to go riding or perhaps sparing or fencing or whatever the lad was interested in. It would be perfectly proper to renew the old acquaintance. He wouldn’t even need to ask Ted for an introduction, not when they’d met before.
Robert dragged his mind away from those thoughts again. Matthew Greensleigh might not be a boy, but he was clearly an innocent. If Ed had been right about his inclinations, the lad hadn’t taken any steps to explore them beyond fumbling with other boys at school. Robert was sure of that. And young innocents weren’t for him. He’d learned that lesson when he’d been young himself, at the same time he’d learned to wield a flogger and a bullwhip and to seek companionship with professionals. No, Matthew Greensleigh was not his to think about, and work was the best way to distract his mind. Far better to go to the office and see what his secretary had on the schedule for the day.
As usual, Dalton had everything well in hand. “Romley still hasn’t replied about the contracts you gave him last night.”
“He was just getting ready to enjoy the evening when I saw him. I don’t think he’ll even look at them until tomorrow, if I’m lucky.”
“Then there’s the deal with Sidmon in Bath. The negotiations are being finalized next week.”
“All right. I’ll arrange for my travel coach to be ready.”
“Peters has already left to bring the contracts. He’s very capable, and he knows the area and the products. You wouldn’t have to go yourself.”
“And I’ll tell Brooker to pack for three days, I think, so I can travel light. It shouldn’t take longer than that.”
“He wouldn’t make any final decisions without your approval.”
“Arrange a meeting with Sidmon for the day after I arrive. That will give me time to get settled and see how things stand. And send the paperwork in so I can look at it.”
“I’ll find it at once, sir.”
Dalton was true to his word and had the contracts on Robert’s desk in minutes. Robert turned to the first page and began to read. Or tried to. None of the contracts seemed to hold his attention. His mind kept drifting back to the night before and the encounter with Ed’s nephew. Unfinished business. That was the problem. He’d resolved to write to Ted the night before and still hadn’t done it. Once that task was out of the way, he’d be able to concentrate on the contracts without that distraction. Robert stacked the legal documents on the corner of his desk and pulled out a piece of his personal stationary. A quick letter to tell the man he’d been thinking of him and to see how he was getting on, and then he would get to work.
Half an hour later, Robert rubbed at his neck and looked at the crumpled remains of his efforts. He’d made two starts, and both had rung false. Somehow, telling a gentleman you’d run into his former lover’s nephew in a notorious brothel and thought of him wasn’t easy to word properly.
Robert picked up the mail and flipped through it. There were several invitations that would now be easy to turn down he would be out of town. He stacked a few things aside to let Dalton go through, more into another stack for his personal attention, and a third pile with a large number of social events to be tossed. Then he spotted an announcement of a gallery opening, an exhibit of modern sculpture and the original ancient art that had inspired it. Ted had always liked that sort of thing. Visiting the gallery would give him another opening to the letter, one that was easier to phrase as it didn’t involve a brothel or a nephew who was too good-looking by half.
Why on earth had he thought of the boy that way? Surely, he meant the boy was too innocent, too naive, too out of his depth. Robert picked up the announcement and the letters for Dalton. He’d leave them on the way out.
Matthew had known no one would be home in time for dinner, yet the table had been set for three. Still, he didn’t take the seat at the head or the one to the right of it. When he finished eating, he waited up in his room, but he hadn’t heard Father or Hec return before midnight, when he finally took to his bed with a book.
When he went down to breakfast the next morning, he found both Father and Hec still wearing the clothes from the day before and piling their plates from the sideboard.
“Late this morning, Mattie.” Hec took the last of the fried mushrooms. Hec didn’t like mushrooms, but he knew Matthew did.
“Good morning.” Matthew tried to ignore the baiting. He was still hoping to get Hec on his side.
Hec ignored him. “You should have stayed, Father. Once we were done with Regina, she sent down ten of the best girls I’ve seen in an age. Beat anything I’d seen in Paris. You couldn’t have found anything more exciting at the card table.”
“I had some business to conduct, and White’s is far more condusive to conversation than Dixon’s.”
“I suppose, but you missed out on a good time. You don’t suppose Dixon will frank our entry when Matthew’s working for him, do you?”
Matthew felt his heart sink. Hec hadn’t been much of a chance, but he’d been the only one he’d had. If he was accepting Matthew’s disgrace so easily, what hope did he have?
“I doubt it. The terms have already been arranged, and that wasn’t one of them. You can afford him, same as the rest of us.” Father glanced in Matthew’s direction. “Were you here to stare or eat?”
Matthew dropped his gaze and hurried to get a plate before Father ordered the food taken away. He collected a plate of toast and jam, which was all he thought he could manage, and sat at the far end of the table, away from Father and Hec. Maybe if they had to shout to be heard, they would leave him in peace. But he was not to be that lucky.
Hec leaned over and shouted down the table almost as soon as Matthew was seated. “Hey now, they told me you were real friendly with Sir Robert Farnsdale while you were there.”
“He was one of Uncle Neddy’s friends.” Matthew didn’t understand what that had to do with anything.
“I didn’t know old Uncle Neddy ran with such a fast crowd.”
“He didn’t,” Father said. “He merely made friends with every business acquaintance he came across.”
“But Sir Robert Farnsdale? Really.”
Matthew found himself hoping for an explanation and chided himself for it. He wasn’t a love-struck university student anymore, and he had much bigger worries at the moment.
Fortunately, Hec felt the need to explain. “You know Madame Rosamond’s?”
Father nodded. Matthew knew the question hadn’t been directed at him and kept still. Although he had no idea who Madame Rosamond was, he assumed she ran some high-priced brothel.
“Well, I went there when I got to town, and more than one of the girls told me that Farnsdale was the only one Rosamond will let use her bullwhip. Apparently, he’s the only one she thinks is skilled enough. Gives you some idea of how often he’s there.”
Father burst out laughing. “I wonder if old Neddy knew.”
If Uncle Neddy had been alive, he’d have taken Matthew’s side in all of this. Matthew was sure of that.
“Wouldn’t think so. Can you imagine his reaction?” Hec tossed his napkin on the table, where it landed in the remains of his eggs and untouched mushrooms. “Well, I’m off. Going for a ride down the Rotten Row then see if there’s anything to see at the clubs. Will I see you around?”
