Lessons in Discovery (27 page)

lover. Sharing a bed was beyond any imagining although,

ironically, the item in question was a glorious double bed such as he’d dreamed, on many an occasion, of sleeping with Stewart in.

“I’m not sure that I feel sufficiently recovered from the journey to want to do anything
except
sleep, Jonty.” He studied his hands, awkwardly.

“That would be fine, Orlando. I’m as happy to simply

slumber next to you as anything else. There are plenty of other

days for romance; we could just be fond friends tonight, or

pretend to be that old couple we played cards with. Still very

much in love yet beyond the thralls of passion.” Jonty gently

touched his friend’s hand.

Coppersmith felt as if a spider was crawling down the back

of his neck, and his discomfiture must have been plain. “What if we slept apart, just for tonight?” They had reached the crux of

why Orlando had been so keen not to come on holiday. He was

frightened of taking their relationship outside the college walls, displaying it to the world. Within the ivy clad, male dominated

locality of St. Bride’s, it had been easy to maintain a friendship which was more than close without raising a suspicious eyebrow.

He’d spent very little time with Jonty out of Cambridge, apart

from a visit or two to London, where they’d stayed in the

relatively safe environs of the Stewart family home. To be with

the man in a strange place was to put himself at risk of making a demonstration of his affection by an unguarded look or touch.

Any footman could walk through the streets of town in his

bowler-hatted Sunday best, hand in hand with a parlor maid. A

pair of dons could never be allowed such freedom. Not in

Cambridge and certainly not on Jersey.

Stewart slammed down the toothbrush he’d been unpacking.

“Oh, you can go to sleep in the bath if you want to! I haven’t the heart to put up with this nonsense. I’m going to sleep in my own bed, in my own soft pyjamas, with my own book. If you change

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your mind and decide to join me, make sure you knock, because I

might just have found other company.” He spun on his heels,

entering his bedroom with a slam of the door that caused the

windows to shake.

Orlando contemplated opening the door again to give his

friend a piece of his mind, but didn’t want to end up in a full

blown row in a public building. He also contemplated going in

and giving Stewart the most comprehensive kissing he’d ever

received. That was decided against, as it was probably exactly

what the little swine wanted, so must be avoided at all costs. Even at the cost of a miserable night alone. Eventually, after tidying everything to his own immaculate standards, he trudged his weary way into his bedroom and readied himself for sleep.

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An Articles of War Romance

Eye of the Storm

© 2009 Lee Rowan

It’s the Winter of 1802 and the long war between England

and France has entered a fragile truce. But the lives of

Commander William Marshall and Lieutenant David Archer, have

become more complicated than ever.

As a Commander, Will is accustomed to making tough

decisions. Can he give an order that will surely put his Davy in harm’s way? He almost lost his lover to a bullet once before and he fears losing him now, yet duty calls.

Davy is tormented by doubt. Will walked away before,

trying to end their relationship for Davy’s own safety. Can he

trust Will again—not only to stay with him, but to believe that

their love is worth the risks?

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Eye of the Storm:

“If you could come below, sir?” Davy asked blandly.

Marshall frowned. “Can it wait until the change of watch?”

His lover raised an eyebrow. “Captain Marshall, do you

intend to rest at the end of this watch?”

He sighed. “Um…”

“My point precisely. Will, you can’t avoid me indefinitely,

this vessel’s not big enough. I don’t understand what it is that’s bothering you. Was it something I said?”

“Of course not.”

“What have I done, then?”

“Nothing!”

“All right.” Davy’s blue eyes were inscrutable as the sea.

“There’s nothing wrong, I’ve given no offense, but you haven’t

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been coming into the cabin until long after I’m asleep, and you’re up and gone before I wake. What am I to think?”

Marshall glanced around anxiously.

“There’s no one in earshot, Will, you can trust me for that!”

He didn’t know what to say. “I’ve had things on my

mind…” Which was an understatement. All his resolution had

deserted him after their escape; every time he had meant to

approach Davy with a view to making love, he had been

distracted by one thing or another, or one of the crew required his attention. Was he losing his nerve?”

“Come below. Please?”

He sighed again. “Very well.” He called to Barrow, gave

him the helm, and followed Davy below to their shared cabin.

He was half-expecting to be pounced upon, was actually

hoping for it; instead, Davy slipped the door-latch shut and faced him, his eyes troubled. “Will, what is wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“I see.” He ran a hand through his short, thick cap of hair.

“No, I don’t see. It’s been over a month since you’ve shown any

interest in what used to be a favorite activity; I thought there must be a reason. If I’ve done nothing, and nothing else is wrong…”

He bit his lip, an old nervous habit that told Marshall the airy tone was a sham, and went on, “Shall I assume you’ve just lost

interest? Should I—” He turned away, tugging at the line that held his cot suspended on his side of the tiny cabin they shared.

“Would you prefer that I leave the Mermaid when we return to

Portsmouth?”

The question struck Marshall like a blow. “What? No! Of

course not!”

“Then, for God’s sake, Will, talk to me!” His voice was low,

but all the more intense for that. “I received news in the last mail-packet, when we turned the French delegation over to Sir Percy.

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Good news, I thought, but until I know your mind on this I’m no

longer certain.”

“What news?”

Davy shook his head. “Not until you tell me this: is it your

wish that I stay with you when you return to regular duty in the Navy?”

He opened his mouth to say “Of course,” and a hammer-

blow of memory stopped him, the horror of seeing Davy carried

belowdecks with a spreading red stain on his white waistcoat, the week of dread as they sailed back to Kingston, and the double

loss—first when he thought Davy had died, and then again after

he’d healed, but duty took Marshall back to sea alone.

“How do you keep away the fear?”

Will had always been aware of his own mortality, but the

constant expectation of his own death had allowed him to appear

fearless. This, though—the razor-sharp knowledge that Davy

might die—somehow that was even more frightening. Dying,

especially a quick death, held little terror compared to the pain of going on alone.

Davy’s question had no simple answer. And even though

Marshall was Captain of the Mermaid, that was one decision he

had no right to make unilaterally. He hated the thought of having to choose. “Do you want to stay?”

In answer, Davy put a hand on either side of his face and

pulled him into a kiss. Marshall was so cold from his long day on deck that his body was drawn to the warmth as much as anything.

The closeness, the taste of Davy’s mouth, woke a longing that he thought he had mastered, and he took his lover into his arms.
A
month! Had it really been that long?

When they stopped for breath, Davy said, “In case you

didn’t understand, that was ‘yes.’” He extricated himself from the embrace, dropped into a careless slouch on the storage locker that served as a bench along the stern. It was a wanton slouch; it was a 196

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posture that said,
Come alongside, I’m prepared to be boarded
.

“But only if I’m wanted.”

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Orlando didn’t think he had a heart, until he lost it

Lessons in Love

© 2008 Charlie Cochrane

A
Cambridge Fellows Mystery
book

St. Bride’s College, Cambridge, England, 1905

Jonty Stewart is handsome and outgoing with blood as blue

as his eyes. When he takes up a teaching post at the college where he studied, he acts as a catalyst for change within the archaic

institution. He also has a catalytic effect on Orlando Coppersmith.

Orlando, a brilliant, introverted mathematician with little

experience of life outside the college walls, strikes up an alliance with the dynamic Jonty and soon finds himself having feelings

he’s never experienced before. Before long their friendship

blossoms into more than either man had hoped and they enter into a clandestine relationship.

Their romance is complicated when a series of murders is

discovered within St. Bride’s. All of the victims have one thing in common, a penchant for men. While acting as the eyes and ears

for the police, a mixture of logic and luck leads them to a

confrontation with the murderer…can they survive it?

Warning: Contains sensual m/m lovemaking and men in

punts

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Lessons in Love:

Jonty didn’t see Orlando again until they took sherry

together in the Senior Common Room before dinner. The room

was abuzz with talk—despite the Master’s best efforts, the details of the circumstances concerning Morcar’s death had begun to

become common knowledge and there was even a disquieting

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rumor that a note had been found that was somehow connected to

the crime.

Wilson and Cohen had been straight to see Dr. Peters with

the letter and had subsequently been asking questions of all the fellows, questions not just concerning the keys to the Fellows’

Gate. The police were rapidly forming the view that the assailant had come from and remained within St. Bride’s, something that

would bring even more distress to the Master. But even he

wouldn’t be able to deny that it was highly unlikely for a stranger to have evaded the notice of the porters or have scaled any of the gates or walls.

Lumley, the chaplain, seemed particularly hurt that the

police had subjected him to such an arduous examination. “The

things they asked me, Dr. Coppersmith, about whether I’d any

personal knowledge of that unfortunate young man, they stopped

barely short of asking me if I’d heard the boy’s confession at any point. Then to ask whether I had any particular insight into

religious mania, was aware of any in St. Bride’s, or had come

across any such thing before. And some of the things they hinted were going on within the environs of this university—I like to

think that I’m fairly well acquainted with the world, but I was

certainly horrified and you would have been, too!”

Jonty successfully repressed a snigger. He’d known the

chaplain during his earlier time at the college and well acquainted with the world the man was not. As for what went on within the

‘environs’—Stewart could have told him things that would have

made his eyeballs jump out of their sockets and rotate.

The indignation among the fellows gradually diminished

during an excellent dinner, helped by some rather good college

hock. By the time that they took coffee and fruit in the SCR, the topics of conversation had generally returned to planarian worms, the nature of electrons and other mundane items such as were

suitable for men of learning to entertain themselves with.

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“And what have you been up to today, Coppersmith?” The

two rightful backsides occupied the two chairs in the corner this evening. Orlando had inspected the upholstery of his very closely, Jonty wondering all the while whether he was looking to see if a very small female had hidden herself under the antimacassar.

He’d been worrying about Orlando pretty well continuously

since they’d separated the previous night. Having agreed that he’d accompany the two students to the Police station, Stewart had at last persuaded them to leave and he wanted the opportunity of

making sure that this latest blow hadn’t overwhelmed his friend.

But Coppersmith had been icily calm, dealing with the shock by

retreating into himself. They’d said goodnight and parted, as if nothing of significance had happened between them. Jonty was

frightened that nothing of significance would ever happen

between them again.

He tried the light-hearted approach. “You’ve got a rather

smug look trying to escape from under your usual frown. You

may be able to fool the rest of the college but I’ve come to know you too well—you have a secret.”

Coppersmith lowered his voice and leant over confidentially.

“Inspector Wilson visited me today; he had a particular request to make.” Orlando looked around furtively, as if to ensure that they weren’t being overheard, but the other fellows were talking about parthenogenesis, which was a bit racy and kept them all occupied.

“He asked whether I, we, could use our knowledge of St. Bride’s

to help in the investigation.”

Stewart wrinkled his little nose. “Did he actually mean that