Convincing Arthur (5 page)

“Both, but not on the same visit.” Thornton's succinct reply saved Arthur the

embarrassment of fully voicing his question.

He winced. A woman he could understand, not forgive, but understand to some

degree. He'd known Randolph had been with a few women before they had started

their relationship. But to hire a man? Randolph had had him. Well, when he wasn't at

the office or poring over documents at home. He did have had a tendency to immerse

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himself in his work to the exclusion of all else. Could the blame for Randolph's

indiscretions be laid at his own feet? Not that it mattered now. Still, it did not sit well.

“Did you leave him because of it?”

“No, that wasn't the cause.” He couldn't stop himself from glancing over his

shoulder again, to confirm the servant was still a good distance back. “I should have

known long ago, though, but I guess I didn't want to know.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught Thornton's single nod. “Understandable.”

Thornton stopped. “Are we done looking for pheasants to kill, or do you want to

continue the search?”

A reluctant chuckle shook his chest. “No need to continue the search. Bagged one.

That's enough for today.”

“Thank God. I was getting tired of lugging around this gun. Here, hand me

yours.”

When Arthur complied, Thornton told him to wait there. He walked back to the

footman and handed over the two rifles. With a nod, the servant turned and headed

right, in the general direction of the house.

“Don't care much for shooting?” Arthur asked, when Thornton rejoined him.

“It's not something I excel at, not that I've ever expended any effort toward it.

Don't much mind a good walk, though. Come along. We'll cut through the forest. It will

let out near the stables. Breakfast will be waiting when we get back to the house.”

They picked up their ambling pace. After a few minutes of silence, Thornton

spoke again. “So what was the cause, if you don't mind my asking?”

Arthur passed a hand over the back of his neck and kept his attention on the break

in the trees ahead, marking a path leading into the forest. “One evening he informed

me, quite casually, mind you, and over dinner at my apartments, that he would need

me to draw up papers for the purchase of a new town house. He believed the woman

he planned to ask to marry him would prefer a house over his bachelor apartments.”

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27

“Did he expect you to stay with him after he wed?”

Thornton's incredulous tone offered a small measure of comfort. “Yes, but he

didn't bat an eye when I told him I wouldn't. He just proceeded to finish his meal as if

nothing was amiss.” The longest ten minutes of Arthur's life. The realization that he had

meant so little to the man he loved smacking into him as Randolph continued to take

bites of his steak and discuss that damn town house on Hill Street. “Needless to say, I

refused to assist him with the purchase.”

“Justifiably so.”

“And all he said as he walked out the door was, 'Thank you for dinner.' That was

it.” Not even one passing reference to the years Arthur had given him.

“Bastard,” Thornton spat, disdain soaking the curse. “He never loved you.”

“He never led me to believe otherwise.” He sighed and kicked a small branch out

of the way. “But I thought he at least cared…” He sighed again, frustrated more at

himself than with Randolph. “Damnation. Apparently he and I held completely

different views of our relationship. And after my uncle passed away, Randolph became

even more important. He was all I had left. Maybe I should have spent less time at the

office, and then perhaps he wouldn't have hired a man at that brothel.” He winced.

Hell, that hurt, even more than Randolph's indifference.

“Don't, Barrington. Don't blame yourself because Amherst was a damn heartless,

cuckolding prig.”

“I know I shouldn't, but…” He swore he could feel Thornton bristling, preparing

to press his point. He held up a hand to stay him. “No, you're correct,” he said,

resigning himself to Thornton's blunt and rather accurate description of his former

lover. “It's just… I was with him for a decade, yet I actually knew so little about him.”

He knew Randolph's body as well as his own, but little else of what defined him as a

man. Arthur hadn't realized he'd held no stock in the concept of fidelity, hadn't had the

faintest notion Randolph wished to marry until he'd mentioned that town house. It

dawned on Arthur that they had not been much more than acquaintances who shared a

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bed. And even then, it had been perfunctory at best. More often than not, Randolph had

fucked him. They sucked each other off on occasion, but that was the limit of their play.

And he had been content with that? More grateful to have someone in his life than

anything. “We never talked about anything except work and Town. Mundane things. I

know more about the Bank of England than I do about him. So I shouldn't be surprised

it ended the way it did.”

Thornton shrugged, and Arthur found it the ideal response. He was a much better

listener than Arthur would have imagined. The patient stretches of silence, the perfectly

timed indignation, the open acceptance. Perhaps it was the morning hours, the illusion

of camaraderie that strolling through a field with another man brought, but something

about Thornton had prompted him to talk about Randolph. And it felt good, as if a

weight had been lifted from his chest. He'd never discussed his preference for men with

anyone, not even Randolph; he'd treated it as a given. Considering last night, obviously

Thornton liked men, at least as much as he liked women, so no worry he would brand

Arthur a depraved sodomite. He didn't need to hide that side of himself from Thornton.

And he treated Arthur as if being in a relationship with another man was completely

natural and not something to avert his eyes from.

It reminded him why he and Thornton had been friends so many years ago. The

younger version of Thornton had a knack for making Arthur feel at ease. Though

Thornton came from a wealthy, aristocratic family, he had never once made Arthur feel

the lesser for his meager, common roots. London may have turned him into a hardened

rake, but it thankfully hadn't stripped that quality from him.

“You're nearing thirty,” Arthur said. While nearly of the same age, Arthur was the

elder by three months. Thornton wouldn't turn thirty until March 17. The date was

stamped forever in Arthur's mind, as ten years ago Thornton had dragged him to a

tavern for a celebratory pint of ale. The event marked the first time Arthur had indulged

to the point of drunkenness. Not something he had repeated much since then, but he

Convincing Arthur

29

had to admit it had been rather fun to let loose and throw back pint after pint with

Thornton.

“Yes, why?”

“Do you plan to look for a wife soon? That seems to be the required age.”

“Who told you that?” Distaste flickered across Thornton's face.

Arching a brow, he shot Thornton a knowing glance.

“Oh.
Him
.” Thornton rolled his eyes. “Was that the excuse he used?” He didn't

wait for confirmation. “No. No wife for me. I have three older brothers, two of whom

are already married, and the other holds the desire to do so, whereas I do not. How

about yourself? Will you marry at thirty?”

Arthur shook his head.

“How about after thirty?” Thornton asked as if he truly cared about the answer.

“No, I don't plan to ever marry,” he admitted.

He had known for some time that a family would not be in his future. No wife, no

children to call his own, and he had reconciled himself to that. But when his uncle

passed away four years ago, he had actually contemplated marriage. The old man had

never married, making Arthur his only family. But as an only child, Arthur had no

nephew to keep him company or to stand beside his grave and watch as his casket was

lowered in the ground. And being so utterly alone in the world frightened him more

than he cared to acknowledge. He'd found the prospect of building a family for himself

a tempting option…for the span of about a few days, and then he'd come to his senses.

Women had never appealed to him, and he couldn't stomach the thought of deceiving

one for his own selfish purposes. Instead, he'd clung to Randolph.

Quite the mistake, and he saw that now.

Tall trees blocked the sun as they entered the forest. The dirt path provided only

enough room for two, and Thornton moved a bit closer, the hem of his greatcoat

brushing against Arthur's with each step. Hopefully he would not end up alone. When

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he returned to Town, and if he applied himself, certainly he could find an amiable man

with similar interests and goals in life. After all, men inhabited half of London. There

had to be someone out there he could look forward to spending the evening with after a

long day at the office. Someone who would think of him when they were not together.

Someone who could come to care for him.

There had to, right? Surely at least one other man in London besides himself

sought a lasting commitment.

A light touch grazed his gloved hand, hanging limp at his side. Sensation shot up

his arm. He was suddenly acutely aware of the man walking beside him. Of Thornton.

Images from last night flashed before his mind's eye. A chunk of black hair hanging

over heavily lidded gray eyes. Those full lips wrapped around his cock. That skilled

tongue flicking over the crown.

His breath hitched; his pulse quickened as his prick began to harden, pushing

against his drawers. That light touch shifted, long fingers wrapping around his hand.

Thornton squeezed, briefly tightening his grip. Arthur swore it felt as though the man

had grabbed his cock. His strides faltered against the sudden jolt of lust spiking his

senses.

He glanced to Thornton and met gray eyes darkened with passion. It stopped

Arthur in his tracks. They stared at each other for a long moment, the air crackling

between them. Then Thornton winked. Before he knew it, hands pushed against his

shoulders, his back connected with a tree trunk, and soft lips slanted over his.

It took less than a second for Arthur to respond. His hands shot out, fingers

gripping Thornton's skull as he thrust his tongue inside the other man's mouth, diving

into the kiss. Thornton moaned, deep and low, the sound drenched with need, and

pressed full against Arthur. Clinging to Arthur's shoulders, he writhed shamelessly.

Even with the layers of clothing between them, Arthur could feel Thornton's erection

rubbing against his own, hard and insistent.

Convincing Arthur

31

The kiss continued on, the need building within Arthur with each hot brush of

Thornton's tongue, with each sharp nip of his teeth. He ground his hips, crushing his

prick against the other man's, seeking more friction. But it wasn't enough. Heat blazed

inside him, making his skin feel too tight and too thin, a blunt reminder they were both

still fully dressed.

A frustrated grumble shook his throat. Just when he was about to push Thornton

from him, to tear at his clothes, to strip the man bare, Thornton's hands slid from his

shoulders to move between them. He attacked the buttons on Arthur's greatcoat, and

then the buttons on Arthur's breeches were undone, and Thornton reached inside, hand

wrapping securely around his cock. His other hand fumbled between them, knuckles

grazing the head of Arthur's prick, and the next moment, Thornton's grasp shifted, and

hot, silken skin melded against his own.

He gasped into Thornton's mouth, his ballocks lurching up tight against his body

at the unfamiliar, yet at the same time familiar, sensation. He knew what it felt like to

have another man's cock in his hand, in his mouth, in his arse, and now he knew what it

felt like to have one pressed against his own. Heavenly soft skin backed by unyielding

iron. The frantic pumps as Thornton fisted both of their pricks had Arthur teetering on

the brink of orgasm in no time.

Thornton dragged his mouth across Arthur's cheek to nip at his ear. “Do you want

to fuck me?” he asked between panting breaths.

Hell, yes!
Past the point of coherent speech, Arthur nodded and forced his fingers

to unclench from Thornton's hair, releasing him. A shrug of his shoulders, and

Thornton's greatcoat fell to the ground. He pulled a small glass vial from his waistcoat

pocket, poured a generous amount of oil onto his palm, and grabbed Arthur's prick,

quickly slicking the length. He unceremoniously tossed aside the vial, then pulled a