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Authors: Rebecca Cohen

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“I’ll bring you up a tray later,” said Miriam, batting Sebastian’s hands away from the laces of his bodice. “Though I should really let you go hungry after the trick you played.”

Sebastian tried to act contrite, which only made Anthony laugh. “Maybe, Lord Anthony, you should return to your guests and leave your wife to rest.”

“Yes, Miriam.” He raised his eyebrow at Sebastian, and Sebastian smiled in return. “I will visit later to make sure Bronwyn has recovered.”

“Really, you two are worse than children,” Miriam muttered as Anthony closed the door behind him.

Chapter 10

 

T
HE
warmer weather that came as spring gave way to summer meant even more guests at the hall. With a few well-timed fainting spells, Bronwyn was spending more days in her room. And a convincing story, told by the servants in the know of Sebastian’s true identity, made it sound like the local physicians had been called but had no clue to the cause of their mistress’s predicament. It was becoming general knowledge that the new Lady Crofton was not as strong as her broad figure would suggest.

“I would think your brother’s arrival could be nicely arranged for Sunday morning. He could arrive while most of the household is at church and Bronwyn is sleeping off another dizzy spell,” said Anthony, throwing his quill onto the surface of his desk.

Sebastian closed the book he was reading. “Do have we guests on Sunday?”

“We always have guests,” said Anthony with a sigh. “But only Richard and Anne and their son Matthew, so it should be a gentle introduction for Sebastian.”

“Matthew? Is he coming to play with William?”

Anthony laughed. “I know Anne does talk about him as if he is still a little boy, but Matthew has just returned from university. He is closer to your age than William’s.”

“Ah, I see. And here I was thinking I would have another willing audience member for my stories about King Arthur.”

“If you’d told me that was the subject of William’s bedtime stories, then I would have joined you myself.”

“I suppose I’d better go and sort out what I need for Sunday. Even my best set of Sebastian’s clothes will need patching up,” he said, standing to leave.

“You needn’t worry about that,” said Anthony. “I’ve had my tailor make you several outfits. I’ll make sure they’re available in Sebastian’s room—which, of course, is next to his sister’s—so you can easily access them.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to.”

Anthony grinned. “I couldn’t have my brother-in-law looking like an urchin. And I must admit I am looking forward to seeing you wear them.”

“Then you will need to remember yourself, or Bronwyn will be most displeased.”

 

 

S
EBASTIAN
was glad when Sunday finally arrived, and he was able to dress for the day without having to struggle into various skirts or get knotted up in ribbons. His new clothes were, thankfully, more understated than Anthony’s preferred choice of wardrobe. He was relieved that he was not to be dressed as a peacock and paraded as part of Anthony Crofton’s collection, which was how some of Bronwyn’s more extravagant dresses made him feel at times.

It was good to be back in men’s clothing, and not just for the freedom of movement he’d been missing. Bronwyn’s itchy wig was left on the nightstand, and it was a relief not to lick his lips and have an oily slick of rouge coat his tongue. There was one final thing to do and he would be ready; he removed his wedding ring and transferred the gold band to his right hand.

Sebastian opened the door to his room and peered into the corridor, a duffle bag over one shoulder to give the illusion he was carrying his worldly goods with him. Anthony, his guests, and most of the servants were at church, and all Sebastian had to do was get to the entrance hall without being seen, and then announce himself as if he’d only just arrived. He left the door unlocked and headed down the corridor. At the top of the stairs he saw a maid walking up, and managed to narrowly avoid her by ducking into a spare bedroom. Thankfully, he heard her footsteps pass by, and once she’d moved on, he had a free passage the rest of the way until he stood in the middle of the entrance hall. He dropped his bag and called out, “Hello!”

A male servant, whom Sebastian knew to be one of the more junior members of the household, arrived from the direction of the kitchens. He appeared to do a double take when he first spotted him. “Can I help you?”

“I am Sebastian Hewel. I’m here to see my sister, Lady Bronwyn.”

“Apologies, sir. Her ladyship is asleep, and Lord Crofton is at church.”

“No, I’m back.” Sebastian turned on his heel to see Anthony taking off his gloves. “I left straight after prayers.”

“My lord,” said Sebastian with a shallow bow.

“There’s certainly no mistaking you for anyone but my wife’s brother.” Anthony extended his hand, and Sebastian shook it. “I hope you’ll stay a while. Bronwyn would welcome your company.”

“I’d like to see her, but apparently she’s sleeping.”

Anthony’s expression turned serious. “Let me have one of the servants show you to her room. She’s been ill of late… and I am a little worried.”

“Bronwyn has always had a robust constitution. I’m sure it is just her adapting to her new life.”

Anthony clasped his shoulder. “If nothing else, she’ll be glad you’re here. I’ll have Bronwyn’s lady’s maid bring up something for dinner, but please join us for supper.”

Sebastian followed a servant back to the room he had come from, and after the pretense of knocking before entering, he spent the rest of the day in his room reading. He returned downstairs in time to see Anthony about to enter the dining room. “Ah, Sebastian, will Bronwyn be down for supper?”

“Alas, no. She went back to sleep as I left, although we did manage to catch up this afternoon, and I fear I may have overtired her.”

It was strange not to be seated at the end of the table, and instead he found himself to Anthony’s right. He was next to a young man with very curly brown hair and bushy eyebrows, and looked like a much younger version of Richard, who was sitting opposite them with Anne.

Richard was first to speak. “You must be Bronwyn’s brother. No one could mistake you as anything but twins.”

“Indeed I am. But you have me at a disadvantage, sir.”

Richard introduced himself and his wife and son, Sebastian remembering to act if they were new to him.

“Anthony mentioned you were an actor,” said Matthew. “I haven’t seen a play in ages. What should I see when I am next in London?”

“You can’t go wrong with anything at the Swan or the Rose—but I could be accused of being biased.”

Matthew laughed. “Can’t be as bad as some of the travelling troupes around Cambridge. I jest not, one of them had a man who must have been at least seventy playing a woodland nymph. He could barely walk, let alone gambol around an imaginary forest.”

Sebastian choked on his wine, and Matthew slapped his back. “Steady on, we already have one Hewel twin out of action. I don’t want Anthony accusing me of trying to do away with the other.”

“It’ll take more than a mouthful of wine to finish me off.”

“I’m very glad to hear it,” said Anthony. “Your sister would kill me.”

Matthew was fun, and Sebastian enjoyed spending time with someone his own age and not having to pretend to be his sister. Anthony was also in good form, asking questions about Sebastian to fill in his backstory.

“Bronwyn tells me you were in Venice, so you couldn’t make the wedding.”

“Venice, eh?” said Matthew with a smirk. “I understand some of the art there is very
educational
.”

“Put it this way, the last few months of my life have opened my eyes to all sorts of possibilities,” replied Sebastian, which caused Matthew to laugh hard and Anthony to stroke the back of Sebastian’s calf with his foot. The touch surprised him, but he didn’t move his leg. Instead, he pressed back under the table.

Anne excused herself after dinner, and Anthony suggested the men relocate to the library for a friendly game of cards. Richard readily agreed. “It will give me the chance to win back my money.”

Sebastian bit his lip. He didn’t have a lot of money, and he couldn’t afford to lose what little he did have. Anthony saw him and cocked his head to one side as if to ask if there was a problem. “Richard, Matthew, I need a quick word with my brother-in-law. Please, go through to the library, and we’ll be along in a moment.”

Alone, Anthony asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have the money to bet on cards.”

“Is that all?” Anthony rolled his eyes. “There’s a money pouch in my nightstand. I’m hardly going to miss a few coins.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I insist.”

The candlelight and the warm blush to Anthony’s cheeks from the alcohol made him look very attractive, and Sebastian had an idea that he thought Anthony would definitely approve of. “There are other, more interesting, things to bet on than money.”

“Are there now,” said Anthony with a rueful smile. “Enlighten me.”

“How about, whoever out of the two of us wins gets to request something of the other?”

“Sounds to me like you have something particular in mind.”

Anthony’s voice had deepened, and Sebastian was not unaffected. He shivered as Anthony traced a finger along the shell of his ear. “I want to be inside you. We’ve never—” Sebastian began.

“Then you’d better hope you win,” Anthony interrupted with a grin, “otherwise you’ll be riding me on the library chair.”

With a smack to his arse, Sebastian raced off upstairs to collect Anthony’s purse. He pulled open the drawer in the nightstand in Anthony’s bedroom and spotted the pouch immediately, and he also saw a bottle of the oil they used during sex. He grabbed both the bottle and pouch and rushed back downstairs to the library where Anthony was dealing out cards, five to each player.

“Ah, there you are,” said Anthony, indicating that Sebastian should take the empty seat next to him at the small square table. “We’ve agreed on a two-penny stake so as not to empty Richard’s pockets again.”

Sebastian tossed two coins on the table and picked up his cards. “What are we playing?”

“Maw. I trust you know the rules.”

Sebastian nodded. “I have played it once or twice.”

“Ho!” cried Richard, “I hope you mean that literally, and not in the way your sister claimed to have played bowls.”

“Bronwyn’s been up to her old tricks then?” said Sebastian with a laugh. “Rest assured, Richard, although I have whiled away many hours at rehearsals playing cards, Maw is not one I have played regularly.”

“It is all a matter of luck, really,” said Matthew, picking up his cards.

“Nonsense,” said Anthony, turning over the top card of the deck to reveal hearts as the suit. “It is a game of skill. Just so I cannot be accused of being unfair, I will recount the rules. We play five tricks. Win three and you take the pot, but win the fourth and not the fifth, then you have to match the pot.”

“And don’t forget that the trumps rank in five, jack, ace, king, queen,” said Mathew. “And run down in order from ten to two for red suits and up in order for black. Got it?”

“I think so,” said Sebastian, but he was as uncertain as he sounded.

Given the hand he’d been dealt, Sebastian decided that neither luck nor skill would help him, and was very glad that the money he was betting with was Anthony’s rather than his own. Anthony won the first trick with the ace of hearts and went on to claim the second and third. And by the smugness of his grin, he didn’t expect to win further tricks, in which he was proved right as Richard won the remaining two, and Anthony claimed the pot.

“Your turn to deal, Sebastian,” said Matthew, “and if you could manage a better hand for me this time, I’ll be grateful.”

Sebastian’s poor luck continued for several hands, and he failed to win a single trick, while Anthony won more times than not, and even when he lost the pot by failing to win the fifth trick, having made the previous four, his pile of coins far exceeded Sebastian’s. It hadn’t helped that Sebastian had confused the ranking of the red and blacks suits. His fellow players had been quick to invoke a Crofton Hall rule he had never heard of before, and Sebastian ended up having to match the pot for his mistake.

“I’m done,” said Matthew. “You are a master at this game, Earl Crofton, and I am going to stop before I have no money left.”

Richard agreed, and the two Ashtons stood to leave. Anthony turned to Sebastian. “What say you, Sebastian, another hand before bed?”

“I’d quit if I were you,” said Matthew, clapping his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder as he left.

Now alone, Anthony asked, “You agree that I won?”

“I could hardly claim otherwise.”

Anthony pushed back his chair and patted his thighs. “Are you ready to make good on your wager?”

“Never let it be said that a Hewel reneges on a bet.” From the money pouch, he removed the bottle of oil and threw it at Anthony, who caught it, then realized what it was and grinned.

Standing up, Sebastian kicked off his boots and untied the lacings on his breeches. He pushed them down to the floor, revealing his already hard cock, and stepped out of them before reaching for the tie on his left hose. “No, leave them on. Leave everything else on. I want to have you just how you are now,” Anthony ordered.

BOOK: The Actor and the Earl
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