Convincing Leopold (15 page)

“I love you too,” he whispered.

Arthur swept his gaze over Thorn’s face. Seemingly satisfied, he nodded once and then sat back against the bench. “You said you can feel it creeping up on you, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me next time? Talk to me about what’s worrying you? Clearly it does no good for you to keep it locked inside. I’m not going to leave you, Thorn, so you needn’t fret something you say will send me running toward the hills. I have told you before. You’ve got me for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slanted a cautious glance at Arthur and met resolute hazel eyes.

“Will you trust me? I won’t let you down again.”

He took hold of Arthur’s hand. Soaked up the strength in the long fingers wrapped securely around his. Arthur had been an anchor there for a short while, providing the stability his soul craved…until he had allowed the worries and doubts to eat away at him. But perhaps, just perhaps, Arthur could prove a far better remedy than liquor. The man certainly tasted better than a bottle of gin. “All right.”

“Thank you.” Arthur gave his hand a squeeze. “And maybe it isn’t good for you to be so idle. It’s not that I don’t enjoy your afternoon visits, but it might also help to have something more productive to occupy your time.”

He nodded. “I’ve already come to that conclusion on my own.” His father may worry any exertion might be too much for him, but it felt good to know Arthur believed otherwise.

“Since we are being completely honest with each other, I will have you know that I owe you my thanks. I had a visitor the other day. Randolph Amherst. He asked me to keep the call from you, but I would rather you hear it directly from me than inadvertently through a bit of gossip. He—”

“That fucking bastard,” Leopold spat, protective instincts screaming to the forefront. How dare Amherst approach Arthur again? “I bloody well warned—”

“Thorn,” he said firmly, cutting him off. “There’s no need to go rushing out in my defense. He understands you’ve staked your claim on me.” A little pleased smile tugged at the edges of Arthur’s mouth. “Whatever threats you hung over his head are more than sufficient. No need to see them through to completion. He came by to apologize, of all things. Took me quite by surprise. Though I do wonder how he came to the conclusion that he had somehow caused me pain.”

That prig Amherst had apologized to Arthur? And what had he told him? “I haven’t the faintest notion how he came to that conclusion.”

“Thank you.” Arthur leaned in to brush his lips across Leopold’s in a light kiss. “I do hope you realize he was never a threat to you. I would never go back to him or seek out another. I only want you.”

If there were any doubts left in his mind, they were now gone. A smile curved his lips. “I will admit, I’ve been itching for an excuse to lay into that self-righteous bastard. The look on his face was…quite satisfying.”

A chuckle rumbled from Arthur’s chest. “I rather wish I could have seen it myself.” Silence fell between them for a few moments. Then Arthur spoke again. “You know, you still haven’t told me why you left Town or where you went.”

“I left because I was determined to make you keep one of your promises. As for where I went…” He glanced out the window and recognized the three old oak trees clustered near a small pond, their barren branches stretched out against the dull early afternoon sky. “We are almost there.”

Arthur leaned forward to glance out the window. Then he looked to Leopold, a question marring his brow.

“I bought us a house and have spent the last couple of days getting everything in order. I understand that your office is important to you and requires your attention. I hold no expectations that you will ever walk away from it. But…” He turned his shoulders to Arthur, needing the man’s complete attention. “I need you to honor your word, to put us before your office. In any case, it isn’t healthy for you to work so hard. Yorkshire’s too far away for frequent visits, but Sinclair Abbey is less than two hours from London by carriage. I…” He gathered his courage. The possibility Arthur would refuse his request had diminished to near nothingness, but that possibility was still there, a little nudge that sent his heart beating in a rapid tattoo against his ribs. “I need you to agree to come away with me every now and then. Not for weeks at a time. Two or three days will suffice. I love you, and I need you to give us the chance we deserve.”

The carriage turned right, onto the long drive that led to Sinclair Abbey. The rattle of the carriage wheels on gravel filled the interior as he waited for Arthur’s response.

“You purchased a house?”

“Yes. I was not carousing about at brothels or hells.” He nudged Arthur’s crumpled list with his toe.

“Sorry about that,” Arthur said, contrition written all over his face. “I was worried and could not think of anywhere else you might have gone.”

“You are forgiven.” He sighed. It hurt that Arthur had assumed the worse, but he couldn’t very well blame him. “My original intention was to purchase a small cottage, but then I thought better of it. Sinclair Abbey is more than just a country house. It includes a large tract of property with an apple orchard and a farm. I figured it could give me a purpose, so to speak. A means to occupy some of my time. It also includes some woods, though I have heard the hunting is not nearly as good as can be found at Ramsey House.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped. “You are going to become a farmer?”

He scoffed. “I don’t intend to actually till the fields.” Ridiculous notion. “The abbey already has a tenant. A genial man by the name of Mr. Clark. From what I have been able to discern thus far, he manages the fields quite well. And I will not need to spend every day there. Occasional visits will do, and Clark will send word when something requires my immediate attention. I know practically nothing about farming, but I plan to change that, and hopefully I can prove a decent landowner.” There was a lot he needed to learn, but he welcomed the challenge, looked forward to it even.

“I am certain you will be a brilliant landowner, Thorn. But who did you have write up the contract?”

Trust Arthur to worry about legalities. “A solicitor in the village handled the sale. No lease involved. It was an outright purchase. Very straightforward.” Amazing what a large enough bank draft could accomplish. “You are, of course, welcome to review the contract when we reach the house.”

Arthur nodded once. No doubt the man would have the document reviewed before supper. And if he found any cause for concern, Leopold was confident he would resolve it for him with his usual efficiency.

“Do you agree, then? You will come with me to Sinclair Abbey, and at least once a month?”

“Yes, Thorn. I agree. It’s a splendid idea. I truly enjoy the quiet of the country and had once contemplated purchasing a house of my own, but I could not justify the expense when I did not have anyone worth sharing it with.” He paused as a smile full of love curved his mouth, one Leopold had once doubted he would ever witness. Slowly he leaned forward, closing the distance between them, his gaze locked on Leopold’s. “Now I do,” he whispered against Leopold’s lips.

The kiss was soft and slow and filled every inch of his soul with Arthur’s love. A warm, comforting blanket that vanquished even the memory of despair and promised a future filled with hope.

Arthur pulled back, breaking the kiss. “I could kiss you all afternoon, but I believe we have arrived.”

As if hearing Arthur’s words, the carriage slowed to a stop. The springs creaked faintly as Jones jumped down from the driver’s bench. Sensing Jones approach the door, Leopold held up a hand to stay the footman.

“There is one more request I need to make of you. Please replace Fenton.” He knew he could trust Arthur with his very self, but the thought of that whelp lusting after his lover day after day was truly more than he could tolerate.

Arthur frowned. “I will give you that he is not the most competent of secretaries, and he seems to have a small problem remembering instructions—”

“Because he is thinking about how he can best get your cock in his
arse
.”

The incredulity on Arthur’s face was almost comical. “What? I-I have never…”

“I’m not saying you have or that you ever would, but it’s what he wants. Why do you think he’s forever finding excuses to come into your office? He stands so close to you he might as well be sitting on your lap.”

“But he…he…” Arthur shook his head, completely flummoxed, as though Leopold had just told him one and one did not equal two.

Dear Lord, could Arthur really be that oblivious?

Yes, he could.

Leopold resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead patted his lover’s thigh. “It’s quite all right, Arthur. Simply replace him, and the problem will be solved.”

“But I can’t let him go. His father is close friends with some of my clients.”

“Then I will have a word with young Mr. Fenton.”

“No,” Arthur said, eyes wide, imploring him. “Please don’t.”

“I’m not going to threaten him.” Well, he would like to, but if that wasn’t what Arthur wanted… Pity that. It could have been almost as satisfying as laying into Amherst. “I will merely have a discreet conversation with him and explain that his eyes and his mind need to remain on his work. You can’t allow the situation to continue, Arthur.”

His shoulders slumped. “No, I can’t. He was supposed to help take some of the burden off my desk, not add to it. And now with the duke as a client, I need Fenton to do the work I hired him to do.”

“Maybe you need another solicitor versus a secretary. In fact, that’s what you should do. Bring another solicitor into the office to assist you and give Fenton to him. Yes?”

Arthur considered for a moment. “Yes.”

Satisfied that particular problem was resolved, he rapped once on the ceiling. Jones opened the door, letting in a gust of chill air. “Don’t bother with the bags. Jones will see to them.” Stooping to fit through the narrow door, Leopold exited the carriage and then waited for Arthur at the foot of the stone steps.

Arthur followed him and stopped at his shoulder to stare at the stately country house with its four thick columns stretching past the second-floor windows to support the broad stone portico. “Definitely not a cottage.”

“No, it isn’t.” He smiled as a rush of pride filled his chest. He had a fondness for Ramsey House, but Sinclair Abbey was so very different. He slanted a glance to Arthur and lowered his voice for Arthur’s ears only. “It has seven bedchambers.”

“Really?” Arthur replied, brows arched in interest.

Leopold tipped his head. He swirled his tongue in his mouth, savoring the lingering taste of Arthur. “I would be more than happy to show them to you.”

Arthur’s eyes flared. “All seven?”

“You aren’t expected back at the office until Monday.” He winked, then set off up the stone steps that led to the front door. Three nights and two and a half days. Definitely manageable.

* * *

Arthur shut the bedchamber door and slowly turned the lock in an effort to quiet the metallic
click
as it slid into place. A good half hour had passed since the servants had retired at nine, but it never hurt to exercise a bit of caution. Tugging his shirt from his trousers, he turned from the door to find Thorn sprawled on the bed, his shoulders propped on a mound of white pillows and his legs casually spread. One hand held a magazine while the other absently stroked his cock.

“Interesting reading?”

“
The Farmer’s Magazine
. And no, it’s not responsible for this.” He dragged his hand up his hard length, fingers closing around the flushed head. A drop of fluid seeped from the tip. The magazine fell from his grasp, tumbling to the floorboards. “You are.”

“Very good to hear,” Arthur said as he crossed the room, drawn by the gorgeous expanse of Thorn’s bare skin.

“Bed number one,” Thorn murmured.

“You really believe we can christen them all before we return to Town?”

“We are not leaving until Monday morning. Plenty of time, if you are up to the challenge.”

A short holiday with Thorn and without his leather bag to offer even the potential of a distraction? “Most assuredly.” He stopped beside the bed. When Thorn shifted as if to move to him, he held up a hand. “Remain where you are. I quite like the view.”