Brook Street: Thief (11 page)

“Thank you.” He took the proffered cup.

Cavin poured another cup for himself, taking sips in between bites of bread, all the while not quite meeting Benjamin’s gaze.

“Did you come down to the kitchen to say goodbye to Sam?”

“No. I wasn’t leaving the house. I gave you my word I’d stay for breakfast. I only went to the study to grab a drink. Then I heard someone moving about the house. Found Sam in the kitchen,” he added by way of explanation. “I was going to go back to your room before dawn. Let you know I was moving to the guest bedchamber before your housekeeper arrived.”

“If you didn’t intend to sleep with me, you could have told me.” Awaking to an empty bed had not been a pleasant experience. And it had been more than the fear that Cavin had slipped away from him again. It had been that horrid, ugly feeling that the man had outright lied to him.

“I intended to stay with you, but…I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t belong there. With you, in your bed.”

“Why ever not?”

Cavin tipped his head toward Benjamin’s plate. “Are you done?” At Benjamin’s nod, he took the plate to the sink. The muscles in his back flexed and played beneath his smooth skin as he dunked the plate in the bucket of water in the sink and began scrubbing it. “You aren’t a fool, Ben. You picked me up from a station house tonight. I’m not the sort of man who belongs with someone like you.”

“Nonsense.”

“I’m a thief, Benjamin.”

“You said you don’t do that anymore.”

“A former thief, then. It doesn’t make a bit of difference.”

“Yes, it does. It makes all the difference in the world.”

Cavin continued, as if Benjamin hadn’t spoken. “I stole from people. Pinched from shops. Snuck into houses. I was supposed to bilk you that night we met. That’s why I used to go to hells like Clements. Find an eager nabob, take him to an inn, distract him with lust and leave his pockets empty.”

“Is that why you borrowed my waistcoat?” But he didn’t keep money in his waistcoat pockets, and what he’d left the hell with had still been in his pocket when he had left the inn. He had used a few of the coins to pay for the hackney that had taken him home.

Cavin shook his head. “That was an accident. I didn’t mean to take it. But it was dark and yours looked and felt just like Hale’s.”

That explained why Cavin had shown up at his house the next evening. He’d needed to return Hale’s waistcoat to the man. “So why didn’t you bilk me?”

Cavin went still. “I couldn’t steal from you after what you had given me,” he said in a low voice. Then he went back to scrubbing the plate that had to be beyond clean by now.

It took a moment for Benjamin to make sense of what Cavin had said. He had not given anything to Cavin that night…except his body and a confession that he’d never been with another man.

Benjamin opened his mouth, but no words would come out. The significance of Cavin’s reason filled his entire head. He hadn’t been the only one who had felt something more than lust between them that first night together.

“I’ve lived in St. Giles all my life, Ben. Lived among thieves, whores, drunkards. I lived at a flash house, for Christ’s sake.”

“I’ve surmised as much.”

With a plunk, Cavin dropped the plate in the bucket and turned to him, dumbfounded accusation written all over his face. “Then why don’t you care? You should.”

“Why should I? I think all that should matter is that I don’t care where you came from or what you may have done in the past. You told Sam you did not know where you would go after you left me after breakfast. So why not stay here with me?”

Cavin stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You honestly want a thief in your house?” Before Benjamin could correct him, he corrected himself with an annoyed little shake of the head. “Former thief. Still, how could you sleep at night knowing there was someone under your roof who had once pinched houses like yours clean?”

Benjamin shrugged. “I trust you.” It was as simple as that. He trusted Cavin, and the feeling had been there since their first night together. It was why he had felt so comfortable with Cavin. If it had been any other, Benjamin’s inexperience would have likely turned the night into a disaster. He held Cavin’s gaze, his own somber and serious. “I have trusted you with my very self, Cavin.”

“Rather foolish of you, on an hour’s acquaintance.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted. “But I did trust you. Still do. Even more so now. My possessions seem rather inconsequential in comparison to what I stand to lose if you walked out the door again.”

Cavin’s brow furrowed. With a shake of his head, he snatched the empty teacups from the table and put them in the sink. “Thank you for the offer, Ben, but I can’t just live at your home. Couldn’t live off your generosity like that. I can provide for myself.”

“How do you plan to do that?” He knew it was cruel of him to press Cavin, but he couldn’t let the question go unasked, especially given what he’d overheard of Cavin and Sam’s conversation. Hunger had already pushed Cavin to go back to picking pockets, after he’d made the decision not to steal again. Without the means to find employment, history was destined to repeat itself. And what if the news didn’t reach Sam’s ears the next time Cavin was caught? What if Cavin was transported, ripped from Benjamin forever?

The muscles in Cavin’s back tightened. “I don’t know,” he said, voice constrained by humiliation. “I’ve tried. No one will take me on. No one wants to hire someone like me. But I’ll keep trying. Eventually…” Head bowed, he dragged a hand across his neck, fingers digging into his skin. “I wish I wasn’t…me. I wish I was someone different. Someone who belonged with someone like you.”

The pure pain in Cavin’s voice pulled Benjamin to his side. “Don’t say that. You do belong with me, if you’ll just allow it.
You,
Cavin. Not someone else. I want you for you, and everything that comes with you and has made you who you are. I’d prefer it if you’d stay with me. If we could rather…live together. But I could see how that could pose problems, beyond your pride. Uncomfortable questions and all.” They were two men, and they did need to keep their relationship hidden, after all. “If you’re dead set on earning your own wage, then you can work for me. And it would provide a solid reason for you being at the house.”

“You don’t need another servant, Ben. That would be excessive, even for someone like you.”

“Like me?”

Cavin waved a hand. “Someone who has more money than they can spend.”

He let that comment go, because really, it was the truth. “As a matter of fact, I do have need of another servant. A cook. Mrs. Gilroy is past due to be pensioned off. She enjoys working so I’ve kept her on, but her skills in the kitchen leave much to be desired, and two positions are too much for someone of her age. She tries to deny it, but even with Sam’s help, I can tell she’s exhausted by the end of the day. She could stay on as housekeeper, and you could take over the responsibilities in the kitchen. I’d pay you what I would pay any other cook for the position, so you wouldn’t have cause to complain that I’m overpaying you because of our relationship.” He took hold of Cavin’s hand, gave it a squeeze. “Please, Cavin. Say yes. Say you’ll stay with me and cook breakfast for me every morning.”

Cavin’s grip tightened on Benjamin’s hand, then he pulled his attention to the window above the sink. Darkness still blanketed the back garden. Soon, though, the sun would rise. Benjamin could only hope that Cavin would still be under his roof when the first rays of dawn lit the garden.

“I—I don’t know, Ben.” Indecision pulled his brows together, tightened his lips. “I…I just…”

“Stop making it more difficult than it needs to be.”

Cavin scowled. With a harsh tug, he pulled free of Benjamin’s hand and took a step back. “I’m not making it difficult.”

“Yes, you are. No one else besides you and me and Sam need know how you came to work in the house, if that’s your concern.”

“He’s not my brother.” Cavin threw the fact out there, as if it alone provided all the proof necessary to support his resistance.

“I’ve surmised that, as well. And I don’t care!” He pressed his fingers to his temples, gave himself a moment. Shouting would not accomplish anything. “What I care about is you, Cavin. You’re who I want to be with. I felt it the moment you sat beside me at that gambling table, and it grows stronger every minute I’m with you. I have met most every gentleman in the
ton.
I’ve felt attraction, curiosity, but never what I felt when you sat beside me. And it’s more than just lust. It’s the feeling we could be not only lovers but the best of friends. I can understand being afraid to push past your worries. I lived with that feeling more years than I care to count. But don’t let your worries stand in the way of what you want. Take a chance. On me. On us.”

Cavin merely stared at him, muscles drawn tight, the reluctance clear on his handsome face.

Benjamin let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping under the heavy threat of futility. For the first time in his life, he’d truly fought for what he wanted. He was willing to take the risk, do whatever necessary. But it appeared that fight had been in vain. “I’m not going to argue with you over this matter anymore. I would like for you to stay, to give us a chance. But if you don’t want to be with me, so be it.”

He couldn’t force Cavin’s hand. No matter how much
he
wanted to be with Cavin, he couldn’t make the man want to be with him.

If Cavin walked away from him… Pain tore at his chest, sharper and harsher than the pain from but a half hour ago, when he’d found the guest bedchamber empty. It hurt so much more because he’d tried his damnedest. Done everything in his power to get Cavin to stay. To give them a chance.

But it had been all for naught.

Unable to watch Cavin actually leave him, he turned on his heel.

A hand closed around his wrist, pulling him to a stop.

“I’d be happy to accept the position of cook, Ben.”

Benjamin looked over his shoulder.

Cavin gave him a sheepish smile, small and fleeting, yet it had the power to fill Benjamin’s heart with hope.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a difficult arse. I do want to be with you, Ben. More than you could possibly know.”

Turning, he wrapped his arms around Cavin, drew them together. Swept his lips across Cavin’s, reveling in the knowledge that it wouldn’t be their last kiss. That they had many, many more ahead of them. “Thank you for giving us a chance.”

“Still don’t know what I did to deserve you, though.”

“You didn’t have to do anything but be yourself.”

Cavin tried to duck his chin, to hide the blush pinking his cheeks. Benjamin would have none of it. With one hand, he cupped Cavin’s jaw, held him steady for another kiss. This one longer, deeper.

It took considerable effort to break the kiss, but Benjamin did eventually pull his lips from Cavin’s. Wouldn’t do for the servants to arrive to find him and their new cook engaged in unmentionable activities on the kitchen floor. And the floor was where they’d soon be, if they had continued much longer. Just having Cavin in his arms made him want to do wicked things with the man.

“You’re too damn good, Ben, you know that?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Would a good man tie you to the bed tonight?”

Cavin tilted his hips, rubbing the hard length of his cock across Benjamin’s and pulling a groan from Benjamin. “I’m hoping this one will.”

Benjamin couldn’t help it. He chuckled. He’d been called a “pleasant gentleman” more times than he cared to admit, and the boring, bland label hadn’t bothered him overmuch. But if being a good man had earned him Cavin, then he’d happily bear the title. “No need to hope. This one most definitely will.”

Chapter Eleven

Late April (One Month Later)

“Roast duck or perhaps beef steak?” Cavin asked, as he flipped through
The Universal Cook.
Maybe tongue? No, too pedestrian. But hare was an option. That might go well with a nice soup.

“How about lamb cutlets?”

“I just made them a week ago, the last time you had guests.”

Benjamin nodded. “And they were quite good.”

Cavin consulted the guest list for the upcoming dinner party that was to take place in a few days. A very familiar guest list. Not only because Cavin recognized the names of Benjamin’s friends, but also because he was certain every one of them had been on last week’s guest list. “You want me to serve the same meal?”

“Not all of the courses. Just the lamb.” At Cavin’s arched brow, he added, “Everyone enjoyed it.”

Cavin pursed his lips then gave in. If that was what Benjamin wanted, then he could have it. Though Cavin would ensure everything else on the menu had not been served to the same guests yet. God forbid if Benjamin’s friends thought his kitchen only capable of a limited menu.

Running his finger under the words, he read over various options for poultry. He could do pigeon with the lamb instead of chicken. There was a good recipe for pigeon he had yet to try. And given it was almost May, he might be able to find some celery at the market. Picking up the pencil from the kitchen worktable, he started a list. “Lamb cutlets with pigeon and shaved celery for the first course. We could do a broiled sole as part of the second course, and for dessert—”

“Almond cakes.”

Judging by the quickness of Benjamin’s response, it was yet another dish that was fast becoming one of Benjamin’s favorites.

“All right. Almond cakes it will be. Anything else?”

“No, not for the dinner party. Though I received a letter this morning from a cousin. I haven’t seen him in years as his family moved to America, but he’s returned to London. He’s going to stop by later this afternoon for a call. Would it be a bother if I invited him to stay for dinner?”

He knew why Benjamin had asked. On the evenings his lover wasn’t hosting guests, they shared a meal in the kitchen. The housekeeper, maid and footman gone for the night. Sam off somewhere in the neighborhood, gallivanting with his new friends. Just him and Benjamin at the worktable. When he could simply enjoy his lover’s company.

Benjamin didn’t host that many parties, preferring instead to meet his acquaintances in the afternoons at White’s. More often than not, he and Benjamin spent the evening together. But with the Season having started, Cavin had a feeling those meals for two would be fewer, at least for the next couple of months. Social obligations would occupy more of Benjamin’s time. But Cavin didn’t begrudge his lover his standing in society, nor did he have any desire whatsoever to join him at a ball. He was quite content to remain at the town house; his days spent honing his culinary skills in the kitchen and his nights in bed with the man he’d grown to love.

An arrangement that had worked out far better than he could have ever hoped.

Benjamin had been right. It didn’t have to be complicated. All Cavin had had to do was let it be as simple as it truly was. Benjamin didn’t give a fig about where Cavin had come from. All his lover cared about was being with him.

He looked to Benjamin, who was seated on the stool on the opposite side of the worktable, and gave him a smile. “It’s not a bother if you have a guest for dinner.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. He’s your relation. Though I hope he doesn’t mind turkey. It’s already in the oven.” He was willing to give up his dinner with Benjamin, but he was not of a mind to change the evening’s menu on such short notice. “Do you know him well?”

“Growing up, he and his sister spent a few summers at the family seat. We’re of the same age, and we used to run about the countryside together. But I haven’t seen him in years.”

“All the more reason to extend the invitation.”

It was Benjamin’s house. The man could do as he pleased. Yet after a month together, it still surprised Cavin a bit how often Benjamin asked his opinion. He never treated Cavin as a servant to command, rather as an equal. A concept Cavin had stopped trying to rationalize. He just accepted it. Benjamin saw him as an equal. It was as simple as that.

“Thank you, Cavin.” Benjamin glanced to the clock on the wall. “I need to be on my way. Promised Eleanor I’d stop by for tea,” he said, referring to his eldest sister who also lived in Town. “I’ll be back by three. If a Mr. Julian Parker calls while I’m out, just have Frank direct him to the study.” He stood from the stool and held out a hand, a smile on his lips.

Cavin reached across the table and took hold of his lover’s hand, gave it a squeeze. While the sun was up and the house fully staffed, he refused to do anything that could tarnish Benjamin’s reputation. The maid or Mrs. Gilroy could pop into the kitchen at any time. A handshake among men, however, would be seen as just a handshake. No one else need know it was as good as a kiss between them.

He slipped his fingers free. The contact kept brief, just long enough for the warmth of Benjamin’s palm to begin to heat his skin.

“Love you,” Benjamin murmured.

“Love you, too,” he said, barely above a whisper.