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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

Almost an Equal

Copyright 2011 by
Heather Boyd

LLD Press

Cover Design by
Heather Boyd

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

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A duke must stand alone

When Nathan Shern, Duke of Byworth's, empty sham of a marriage is threatened by a fellow duke he is naturally aggrieved. He cannot allow the potentially damaging contents of his wife's diary to reveal the depths of their estrangement because exposure of his secret dalliances with other men would taint his innocent children's lives. Not to mention end his life. So, without revealing his mission to his steward, Henry Stackpool, a man he trusts for everything else, Nathan undertakes to steal the diary back alone.

A servant must keep to his level

Former pickpocket and molly house whore, Henry Stackpool, works hard to keep his position as right hand to a moral man, the Duke of Byworth, but he fears his kind hearted employer is ill-equipped for a confrontation with his unstable opponent. Yet Henry cannot reveal his knowledge of the threat without exposing the secrets of his past or his keen interest in Byworth's safety. So when fate places Henry in harms way, he risks his hard won reputation to retrieve the diary. Yet he too is held captive, and when Byworth comes to his rescue his lies are revealed.

Can Byworth forgive him for his deception and will Henry keep the country life he's grown to love?

Authors Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations some readers may find objectionable: anal play/intercourse, light spanking, male/male sexual practices.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my mentor, Jordan. Thank you for your inspiration, ideas and dedication to sharing your knowledge with so many others.

ALMOST AN EQUAL

Chapter One

Nathan Stern, Duke of Byworth, glanced at the pale note on his dark desk, anger burning through his usually contained demeanor. No one threatened a duke and got away with the impertinence. But in this case Nathan’s hands might be tied.

The note from the Duke of Lewes threatening to publish Nathan’s wife’s diary could prove . . . uncomfortable.

How uncomfortable would depend on what exactly his duchess had written about their estranged marriage. If she’d written even part of the truth—Nathan would hang.

A chair creaked in the adjoining small chamber.

Nathan turned his head and caught his steward glancing swiftly back down at his papers. He took a deep breath and buried his apprehension. He could not disclose his fears to his most trusted servant because if he did he’d no longer have him close by.

Although his thoughts were improper, and any action taken to fulfill them life threatening, he let his gaze rest on what he could see of the other man. Tall, neat and as sleek as a cat, Mr. Henry Stackpool had drawn his eye from the moment their paths had crossed. Stackpool’s interview for the position of steward had gone badly, but not because of anything he had done. It had been Nathan who struggled not to grin like a fool and then covered it with excessive coughing. His gaze had drifted over the lanky younger man and dreamed . . . of things that should not be.

A familiar ache pinched his chest while he watched his servant hard at work. Unfortunately, the other man did not share Nathan’s inclinations. He was proper down to his highly polished toes.

Nathan folded the paper and slipped it under his desk blotter. He’d deal with the Lewes problem later when he had time to form an appropriate response and course of action. But for now he had estate business to take care of.

He stood and crossed to the adjoining room. “Have you finished those letters, Stackpool?”

Stackpool collected a short stack of papers and held them out. “I am almost finished, Your Grace. However, there is one request that requires further investigation before I draft a reply. If you have pressing business elsewhere I can leave it on your desk for your signature either tonight or tomorrow morning.”

If Stackpool needed more time, then he needed it. No amount of grumbling on Nathan’s part or hovering would get the job done any faster. Yet, he stalled for time, rifling through the close written sheets and drinking in the warmth of Stackpool’s tiny office. At times he wished there might be a second chair installed beside the desk so he might sit and simply spend time with his steward. To converse as friends. But he had no idea how to bridge the gap that society dictated must exist between a man of his rank and a mere servant, nor did he know if he should even try. Nathan valued Stackpool for his diligence and for his honesty, and he couldn’t risk losing his good regard.

Besides, he couldn’t linger. He had a vital mission to undertake upstairs in a few moments. His children had demanded he visit them earlier than usual today and would be cross if he became distracted. He’d thought it was a secret between them, but Nathan should have guessed Stackpool would have learned already.

Nathan folded his arms across his chest. “I see news travels fast.”

A small smile tightened Stackpool’s mouth, his eyes betrayed his amusement. He glanced away before Nathan could return the smile. “I’ve no idea to what you refer, Your Grace.”

Nathan wished he could speak with Stackpool as an equal, but the man would be horrified if he discovered how equal he wished to become. He glanced at the sheets in his hands again. “I’ll deal with these in the morning, along with your last piece of correspondence. Now, I should probably get along to the nursery.”

Another gentle smile quirked Stackpool’s lips, and Nathan, fearing the temptation, turned away abruptly. He returned to his desk, dropped the papers on the shiny surface and hurried out his door before he did something foolish.

After climbing the endless flights of stairs he approached the nursery door quietly. He pressed his ear against the wood and listened. Inside his children were arguing.

“No, I get to sit next to Papa.”

“Mama said he’s too busy to come.”

“He’ll come. Mr. Stackpool promised to remind him.”

A grin tugged Nathan’s lips. Stackpool would never let him forget his children. His steward had, from time to time, mentioned his children in passing, prompting Nathan to remember his promises even when his burdens grew overwhelming. That was why he couldn’t bear to lose Stackpool. He wanted to be a better, more involved father than his own had been. But he frequently needed to be reminded.

Nathan eased the door open and slipped inside.

His children shrieked with pleasure and he covered his ears as they swamped him.

“You’re early,” his five year old daughter, Cecily, accused, fists settling on her hips in a near perfect imitation of her mother.

Nathan bent low and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I finished early today.”

Unlike her mother, Cecily smiled and clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Will Mr. Stackpool be joining us too? He promised to help me with my project.”

Nathan set his hand to her cheek. “Stackpool has pressing matters to attend to. I’m sure he will visit later if he can. Now what entertainments have you planned for our evening?”

Although his daughter pouted, she hurried across the room.

“Good evening, Father.”

Nathan gazed at his eldest son. Although it seemed impossible, James appeared taller than he was yesterday. Any day now, Nathan expected to turn around and find a young man not an eleven year old. “How are you today, my boy?”

“Very well, thank you. And you?”

“My health is excellent.”

James nodded and glanced away. Although Nathan hadn’t intended for this awkwardness, a chasm had opened up between him and his eldest son, James. He found it difficult to bridge the growing distance as it reminded him of his own interactions with his father.

Nathan had envisaged a different life for his son than the indifferent upbringing he’d experienced. Yet he had no idea how to obtain it.

He followed James’ gaze to where it rested on his middle child. Pierce, at seven, was the most bookish of all his children. He lived with his head perpetually bent over his papers, a worried frown or scowl gifted on the words before him, and not on his newly arrived father.

James cleared his throat, attempting to gain his brother’s attention.

Pierce didn’t look up.

When James seemed about to cross the room, Nathan set his hand to his son’s shoulder to still him. “It’s all right. Go back to your amusements.”