Read A Private Gentleman Online
Authors: Heidi Cullinan
A Private Gentleman (27 page)
Michael sit.
It was an odd move, and it stayed Michael’s chiding remarks about Albert’s
imminent arrival. He sat where Rodger indicated he should. “Is something
wrong?”
In response, Rodger huffed and flattened his lips in a grimace. He didn’t
pace exactly, but he fidgeted back and forth for some time before he spoke, and
when he did, he didn’t look Michael in the eye. “You seem to be happy with
Lord George.”
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“Yes, I am,” Michael said carefully. Good Lord, was Rodger jealous? “Is
that
the problem?”
Rodger sighed and rubbed his mouth. “I don’t know. It might be.” He turned
to Michael at last. “I don’t like where this is going, Michael. I think you should be more careful.”
Michael almost laughed. “Careful of what? Rodger, be serious. You think he
is a threat? He’s nothing like his father. He’s nothing like anyone. He’d never
hurt me.”
“Are you in love with him?” Rodger demanded.
Michael only hesitated a beat. “Yes.”
A tic appeared in Rodger’s cheek. “And this, ducks, is exactly why I’m
worried. If you’re in love with him, he can wound you beyond anyone.”
Now Michael was irritated. “For heaven’s sake. Obviously, yes, he can hurt
me. But I meant that he won’t hurt me like his father.”
“No. He’d hurt you far worse.” When Michael started to protest, Rodger
stood over him, boring those angry eyes into his. “Have you told him?”
“Told him what?” Michael asked, but his stomach flipped over, for he knew
what Rodger meant.
“About what his father did to you.”
“Yes,” Michael said, willing his cheeks not to color. It wasn’t a lie.
But Rodger was no man’s fool. He smiled mirthlessly. “And did you mention
that it was his
father
who did it?”
Michael longed to lie. He might have, too, except Rodger was certain to test
out the truth. Michael averted his eyes and said nothing, which was of course the
same as an admission.
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Rodger swore under his breath. And then he did pace, wearing a trench in
the floorboards as he went on. “Your month is up next week. I have half a mind
to tell him thank you for his donation and move on.”
“You wouldn’t.” When Rodger just gave a dark laugh in reply, Michael
stood, shaking with fury. “I’m not your property, Rodger Barrows.”
“Aren’t you?” Rodger shot back. “He’s a danger to you, and you won’t even
hear it, because you’re in love with him. You want his protection over mine?
Fine. If there’s anything left of you once he breaks you, I’ll find you somewhere
quiet to live, but it won’t be here. I can’t stomach the thought of cleaning up after that fucking family again.”
Michael didn’t know if he should be furious or terrified. He ended up both.
“Rodger, where is this coming from? Why are you suddenly so adamant against
Albert?”
“I’ve been against him since the moment I met him.” He stopped pacing and
shut his eyes, looking pained. “I’ve been talking myself out of my apprehension,
trying to give the bugger a chance. But it’s no good. Not after the report I got this morning.” He turned to Michael. “Your Albert’s an addict, love. You can give
him your heart, but his soul belongs to the poppy.”
Michael blinked a few times, not even sure what Rodger was saying. “You
think Albert is addicted to…opium?” He laughed, feeling relieved. “Rodger,
your report is wrong. Albert can’t even go into a bookstore. You think he could
go to an opium den?”
“He doesn’t take it in a den, ducks.” He held out his hand, cupped like an
offering, and smiled grimly. “His little pills. And his tea. Laudanum, they call it,
but it comes from the poppy all the same. Been increasing regularly for months.
He downplayed it to me, which was why I had the boys look into him. He’s even
seeing that bluestocking chit down in Southwark—that’s why he moved your
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outings to the afternoon. Spends every morning with her. Won’t do a bit of good,
though. All her wiles are shite.”
Michael’s ears had pricked at
chit
, but
wiles
gave him pause. “He—he’s seeing a woman?”
Rodger paused, frowning at him, then shook his head. “Not like that, love.
God knows I’d love to use that to turn you off him, but no, she’s not a doxy.
Fuck, she’s practically a nun, that bleeding idiot—she thinks she’s an angel, Miss
Barrington does, saving lost souls. She has Lord George singing songs and
breaking dishes, as if such nonsense will break him away.” He rolled his eyes.
Michael calmed somewhat. “But he’s trying to quit, yes? Isn’t that a good
thing?”
Rodger barked a laugh. “It’s a nice sentiment, but it won’t work. Not like
that. I’ve seen only a handful of men break free of the dragon, and it marked
each one as surely as a scar. It takes a strength of iron to walk through that fire.”
“And you’re saying Albert doesn’t have that strength?”
Rodger snorted.
Michael’s cheeks colored again. “He’s strong enough,” he said, but with less
heat than he wanted. “Albert is strong enough to defeat opium. And strong
enough to protect me from his father.”
“Glad to hear it.” Rodger smiled darkly. “You won’t mind if I let him know
about your history with Daventry, then.”
“You wouldn’t,” Michael cried.
“I will if you don’t tell him yourself,” Rodger promised.
Michael felt panicked. And sick. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you being
so unreasonable? All because he uses opium, suddenly he’s too weak to be with
me? And why do you get to make that decision?”
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“Because I’ve made every decision for you for the past thirteen years,”
Rodger replied, without pity. “Because
you
aren’t strong enough to even sleep in your own bed.”
That jab cut deep, and Michael all but hissed at the pain. And lashed out to
distract from it. “Are you sure it isn’t because I’m not warming
yours
?”
Rodger’s anger, to Michael’s surprise, abruptly gave way, leaving him
looking only pained. “No, love. It isn’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care
enough about you to bleed with you when the house of Daventry guts you all
over again.”
Michael tried to hold on to his anger. He couldn’t. His voice broke as he
asked, “Are you telling me I can’t see him?”
“I don’t know.” Rodger ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know, ducks.
I don’t. I wanted you to have a good fuck with him. Wanted you to play and feel
free. But you aren’t. You aren’t fucking him, and you aren’t playing.” He turned
back to Michael. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you won’t be broken if he isn’t
what you want him to be. Tell me you aren’t looking for a fairytale prince who
will buy you a cottage in the country and fill it with books and pace the front
walk to keep your demons at bay in between making sweet love to you.”
Just hearing the words spoken out loud made Michael fill with longing. Yes,
he wanted all that, and he wanted it with Albert.
And yes. If Albert betrayed him, it would break him to his core.
He shut his eyes, and Rodger swore. Michael wanted to cry.
“When—” Michael’s voice broke, and he swallowed hard before continuing,
keeping his eyes shut. “When will you tell him? Today?”
He braced himself, ready to hear Rodger say yes, that it was already over.
When Rodger didn’t answer, Michael had to open his eyes. Rodger was looking
at him strangely.
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“You’d give him up that easily?” He frowned. “Am I wrong and you don’t
care that deeply—or is it too late, and it’s me who’s broken you?”
Michael faltered. “I don’t know what you mean. Broken me?”
Rodger looked pained. “God’s teeth, but I did, didn’t I? Fuck me.” His laugh
was bitter. “That’s why I pushed you out of my bed those years ago. I thought if I
kept fucking you that you’d never take any control over your life. I didn’t want
you to become my pet, unable to do anything without my say-so. But it didn’t
matter, did it. You were my pet anyway.”
“But you just said—” Michael shook his head. “You just told me I’m too
weak to make a decision, just ordered me to end it with Albert and told me he
was too weak to—”
“And you didn’t fight for him,” Rodger cut in. He watched very carefully.
“Because you don’t love him, or because…”
He left the rest unfinished.
Michael tried not to understand him. Tried to be angry, but all he felt was
fear. Why was Rodger doing this? The ground kept shifting beneath him, and he
hated it, hated this feeling. He felt exposed, confused and afraid. All at once it
was just as it had been when he’d been with the men in the rooms, before Rodger
had brought in Albert, and he panicked.
“Rodger,” he said, trying to not let the panic show, but he couldn’t keep the
pleading from his voice. “Rodger, why—” His palms began to sweat, and the
room felt too close, the air too heavy. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are
you trying to turn me mad?”
Even before Rodger’s face crumpled in despair, a deep part of Michael
realized the answer.
Rodger is right. You are his slave. Rodger’s slave, Albert’s—both.
You aren’t just weak. You don’t even know how to think for yourself.
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Like a snake, the old memory crept from the back of his mind, Daventry
smiling down at him, running his hand over Michael’s hair as he suckled his
master’s cock.
“Such a sweet pet. One day I’ll put a collar on you, boy, and keep you
beside me forever.
”
Michael had gagged on the cock, swearing he would never let him do it, that
he’d run away first. And yet after all this time, the joke was on him. He’d
collared himself.
The knock at the door startled them both.
“Sir,” a servant said, sticking his head inside the room, “Lord George has
arrived.”
Rodger waved the man away without looking at him, his eyes staying on
Michael.
Michael wanted to sob. “What do I do?” he whispered.
Rodger rubbed at his cheek. “Good God, I’ve no idea.”
“Don’t tell him,” Michael pleaded. “Don’t tell him about Daventry.”
“Will you tell him, then?” Rodger asked.
No. Never.
But Michael swallowed hard and nodded. “Just—not today.”
“I’ll give you three days,” Rodger replied.
“Three!
Days
!” Michael cried. “It isn’t anywhere near enough time.”
“It’s more than I should give you.” Rodger sighed and reached out to brush
his fingers across Michael’s cheek. “If it goes badly, ducks, you’re done whoring
for me. I won’t send you away,” he amended quickly, when Michael stiffened,
“but this can’t go on. I should have seen it long ago. I’m sorry I didn’t.” He
grimaced, exhaled hard, then smiled placatingly at Michael. “Shall I send him
away and have him come back tomorrow? I can do so without letting him know
anything is amiss.”
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Michael wanted to scream. He wanted to shout, scream, cry out, kick—at
Rodger, at Albert, at the whole world. How had this happened? How had
everything run so abruptly mad?
I only have three days left with him.
“No,” he said hotly. A tear ran down his cheek, which he hated but could not
stop. He wiped angrily at it. “I will see him today.” He drew a breath. “And I
will tell him within three days’ time. Myself. I will tell him about Daventry
myself.” Pride made him add, “I’ll prove to you that I don’t need either of you.
That I’m strong enough to take care of myself.”
He was ready for condescension, but Rodger only looked at him with weary
sadness. “I hope you do, ducks. I hope you do.”
Rodger leaned forward and brushed a kiss against his forehead before
heading back to his desk.
Michael stood there stupidly a moment. Then he squared his shoulders and
left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Before he could go to the parlor he had to step into the dark alcove by the
water closet and press his face into the wall. When he stopped shaking, he wiped
the wet from his cheeks, drew a deep breath and pinched his cheeks to give them
color as he went out into the parlor to meet his lover.
“Let’s go somewhere different today.”
To Michael’s credit, he managed to keep his voice largely in line. Even better,
Albert wasn’t just receptive to the idea—rather, he almost seemed pleased. In
fact, he was in a mood Michael hadn’t ever quite seen in him before.
“Wh-Where would you like?” He leaned back against the carriage cushions
and smiled. “An-n-nother bookstore? Club?” His smile curled up at one corner,
and his eyes twinkled. “Or p-perhaps something…out of town?”
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