Story!

[maderr]

Set in a certain fairytale-verse, but not a fairytale. Rather, is based upon an old standard of the bodice-ripper world. All things considered, I am rather pleased with it. Much love to Kitty for helping me.

Scandal

“Highness, you’re up early.”

Prince Benedict smiled and took his usual seat at the large, oval breakfast table. The barest shreds of sunlight spilled through gauzy green curtains behind him. “Rae and I are making a visit to a perfumery. What on earth has you up at such a hideous hour, Gideon?”

The fact that Benedict was up early to visit a perfumery almost made him drop his tea. Just a year ago, the notorious royal rake would have been fast asleep in the bed of some lord or lady – now he was up with sunrise to spend the day with a volatile lover. Gideon set his teacup down carefully. “I must be off home. My brother has scared off yet another tutor, and I must go to interview the one my secretary managed to dredge up.”

Benedict laughed. “I cannot wait until your brother is of age. He will take this tired court by storm.”

“I very much doubt even my brother could match your secretary for storms,” Gideon said dryly.

“That is true,” Benedict murmured over the rim of his teacup. His eyes flicked toward the door as it opened, and Gideon could not miss the way they lit up.

Gideon turned in his seat and nodded politely to Rae Burroughs. Secretary to his royal Highness Prince Benedict – and now his lover. Their affair was as notorious as their mutual hatred had once been. Bets were currently running on when they would finally break up. Gideon thought they were all idiots; anyone who really bothered to look could see the sparks that ever flew around them were the result of a deep and steady flame.

Obviously he needed to find a new bed warmer of his own, if he was acting like this. Even in the privacy of his own head the thoughts were atrocious. Thank the heavens he was going home for a time, even if it was to coerce yet another tutor into putting up with his bloody difficult brother.

Grimacing, Gideon finished his tea and stood. “If you will both pardon my hasty departure, home is a long way off and I would like to be there as soon as possible. I hope your trip to the perfumery goes well. Highness. Master Burroughs.” Sketching a bow to each man, for in his book at least Burroughs had earned it, Gideon turned and departed.

His carriage awaited him before the palace, the lanterns upon it lit, casting weak, orange light across the still-dark courtyard. Gideon stifled a yawn and climbed inside, settling back into the seat and propping his feet on the one opposite. Draping an ermine blanket over his legs to block out the late-winter chill, he rested his head against the side and dozed as well as he could.


He woke to a particularly nasty jarring, tumbling hard, knocking his head against the side. Swearing, Gideon untangled himself and stumbled out of the oddly tilted carriage. He grimaced. “What the bloody hell happened?”

“Sorry, milord. The weather’s been most foul since we left the city; I guess it did a turn on the roads. The wheel snapped like it was kindling.” The coachman touched fingers apologetically to his hat, bowing.

Gideon waved the apology aside. “Not your fault; I know you’re an able driver. How long ‘til it’s fixed?”

“Oh, it’ll be a couple of days, milord.” He nodded past Gideon to where the footman stood waiting. “Rob will mind the coach, I’ll see repairs are made. You’d best take a horse and get on your way, milord.” He took a bag that Rob had taken from the broken carriage and strode over to a dark gray mare waiting restlessly nearby. Quickly he saddled her and arranged the bag. “That’s your overnight bag. Should be fine until you reach Foxwood manor.”

“Right,” Gideon said, glaring at the broken carriage wheel. He went to his horse, a fine mare he’d brought along to test in the country. He’d intended to ride her when the carriage became too confining. “Take care, gentlemen. If the carriage proves too great a problem then leave it and arrange to have it sent on once repaired.”

The coachmen nodded. “Aye, milord.”

Sighing, Gideon mounted his mare and nodded farewell, then took off down the road.

He rode for hours. Well away from the city, the population thinned to almost nothing. He passed a cottage here and there, but nothing even remotely close to a town. As the day grew later, the weather grew steadily worse – it would seem whatever had ruined the road was returning.

The rain finally broke just as he reached town. By the time he found the inn and got his horse stable, he was soaked.

Muttering curses, Gideon dispensed with enough silver to ensure his every comfort was quickly attended to. Two hours later, he was clean, warm, and well fed. He raked a hand through his damp hair. The deep-red curls were in need of a trim, but Gideon was rather fond of the unfashionable length. He’d cut it once it reached his shoulders.

Sighing softly, Gideon settled back in his chair and closed his eyes, relishing the warmth of the fire. He hoped his men had found the same; one bloody carriage was not worth enduring this weather.

The sound of movement, of someone settling into the other chair before the fire in the small parlor, stirred him from the light doze into which he’d been falling.

Mercy. He hoped he wasn’t staring.

The stranger was fine indeed. His hair was dark spun gold in the light of the lamps and flickering flames, tied back neatly in a dark ribbon, falling over one shoulder. Spectacles were perched on a delicate nose, setting off rather than ruining fine, handsome…no, if he were honest, the man was very much pretty. Not at all feminine, though. Gideon had always preferred his men be unmistakably men.

He was dressed simply, but well, in cream superfine pants and a blue waistcoat. The stranger looked up, and Gideon wished there was enough light to see his eyes clearly. Would they be pale like his own gray? Darker? Brighter? “Good evening.”

Oh, my. Better and better. That voice burned finer than his best cognac. “Good evening, sir. Were you caught in the weather as well?”

The man flashed a smile that made Gideon want to stare in an unseemly fashion. Truly, the man was the definition of temptation. He’d always prided himself on his control. This man was rapidly weakening it. “Very nearly, sir. Luckily I came in just before it. I think I traveled in the brief few hours these rains stopped plaguing the region.”

“It was certainly much fairer in the city,” Gideon replied. “Would you care for a bit of brandy, sir?”

A look of surprise flickered across the man’s face, then it turned into a smile. “I would indeed, sir. Thank you.”

Gideon waved the words aside and handed over his flask. He nodded to the side table, where the innkeeper had set out a decanter and glasses for any visiting the private parlor. “My stuff is far better than that.”

“Far better indeed,” the stranger agreed, murmuring appreciatively as he took a second sip of brandy before returning the flask.

Was it just his imagination, or did those shadow-dark eyes regard him a moment too long? Did those long, slender fingers brush his accidentally, or with a purpose? Gideon decided to see, even as he knew it was the height of stupidity to give in. He’d avoided such risks all his life, not wanting to be like his parents…but this stranger was making it so very difficult to resist. “You may keep it a moment longer,” he said, holding the flask lightly, not quite letting the stranger hand it back, “If you’ll give me a name instead. I will even offer mine – it is Gideon.”

“My name?” the man asked with a soft smile. “A small price to pay. Tem, sir, is what most call me.”

Gideon slowly let his fingers fall away from the flask, dusting across Tem’s. He leaned forward slightly in his seat. “Perhaps I should have demanded more.”

Tem took another sip of brandy, and as he lowered the flask his tongue flicked out to lick traces from his lips. Gideon wanted to be the one licking those full lips. “Well, a mere name hardly seems fair for such excellent brandy. It would perfectly fair to demand more.”

Heat poured through him, as though the fire were in his veins and not the hearth. Gideon knew he should not do this, but he could not more resist than stop breathing. “It is indeed an excellent brandy. I want to taste it on your lips.”

“A fair price,” Tem said and immediately rose, setting the flask down on the table before standing in front of Gideon, bracing his hands on the armrests of his chair and leaning down to cover Gideon’s mouth with his own.

The effect was immediate, hot and consuming. Gideon felt drugged by the kiss, moaning at the taste of brandy combined with something unmistakably male. Tem was not hesitant in the slightest, taking possession of his mouth, making it hard for Gideon to think, never mind breathe. When the need for air finally forced them apart, Gideon resented it wholly. He stared up at Tem, noting immediately that the man’s eyes were a rich, gold-touched brown. Beautiful. With a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a moan, he reached up to take another kiss. Tem offered no protest, merely succeeded again in rendering thought and breathing impossible.

When they broke apart a second time, Gideon realized his hands had moved to Tem’s shoulders. He watched as though from a distance as his hands slid from Tem’s shoulders down his chest, unfastening the dark blue velvet coat and slipping inside to stroke the skin beneath warmed lawn. Questing fingers brushed across hardened nipples, and Tem’s head dipped as he moaned.

Gideon had never heard a finer sound, and he wanted to hear it again. When had he last been this taken by anyone? The most talented boys in the city did not affect him so. He reached up again to plant a hard, hungry kiss on Tem’s mouth, biting down on that edible lower lip, locking eyes as he pulled away. “Come upstairs with me.”

Tem’s eyes flared, desire plain on his face. He flashed one of those deadly smiles and shifted so that his weight was on his knees, braced on the seat on either side of Gideon’s legs. Hands free, he mimicked what Gideon had done to him just moments ago, dipping his head to nip lightly at a bared bit of throat, tracing soft kisses along his jaw line before taking a quick, searing kiss.

Growling low, Gideon wrapped his arms tightly around Tem’s waist and yanked him close, kissing him as though Tem were a feast to ease his hunger. Arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, Tem returning the devouring kiss full measure.

“Upstairs,” Gideon repeated hoarsely, unable to resist the bit of throat right before his eyes.

Tem groaned low at the knowing touch of tongue and teeth to his skin, shivering in Gideon’s arms. “Yes. Please.”

“Yes,” Gideon repeated, and with a last kiss forced them up out of the chair, taking up his flask before leading the way up to his room.

*~*~*~*

He woke with a groan, feeling every pleasant ache and pain from the night before, and stretched out an arm to see if the waking would be as pleasant.

Instead of warm flesh he encountered only cool sheets. Frowning, Gideon sat up and looked about the room.

Tem was gone.

Only the proof of their passion remained as evidence that he’d not spent the night alone.

A piece of paper on the table caught his eye, and Gideon threw off the blankets and strode across the room to snatch it up.

Sir,

I wish I could have remained to wake you. Alas, I woke late and have somewhere I must be. I would convey my thanks and hopes to see you again someday, but I fear that would sound like sentimental drivel. Still, you are the only impulse into which I’ve ever given. Perhaps we shall cross paths again someday.

Regards,
Tem

Gideon sighed and stowed the note. Yes, they had places to be. Still, he would never be happier for a broken carriage wheel. Just thinking of last night…never had he had such a lover. If only he’d woken sooner…

Ah, well. Best not to linger on such distracting thoughts. He had duties and responsibilities which needed tending. Gideon called for a bath and quickly set about getting ready for his day.

Two hours later he was back on the road, heading quickly toward the home that was not far off now. Giving the mare her head, he allowed his thoughts to linger over the previous night.

The most skilled boys in the city had not affected him so deeply. Tem had met his boldness head on, met every challenge and begged for more. Gideon shifted uncomfortably and forced his mind to thoughts less torturous. He would never see Tem again, at least not until he figured out how to track a man down by appearance and a partial name.

Damn it all, he should have made certain he could see the man again before falling asleep. He could only blame it on how completely and utterly Tem had captivated him. Why were the best things in life so fleeting?

Rolling his eyes at himself, Gideon forced his mind to his brother. Damn the boy, could he not behave himself? Gideon was out of ideas as to how to handle him. Sometimes he truly hated his parents for preferring to run around the world than tend the children they’d born…and he did hate them for dying and forcing everything upon him.

The old bitterness would get him nowhere. He made the best of things, or tried…if only Pierce would stop driving away all his damnable tutors. Gideon rubbed his forehead, willing away the headache trying to take hold. He knew nothing about children, why had they done this to him?

Sighing, Gideon turned his mind to matters of business and finance for the rest of the journey, both grateful and miserable when his home came into view. Servants tumbled out to assist him, and barely had he walked in the door when his secretary greeted him.

“My lord, we were beginning to fear for you.”

Gideon quickly explained the reason for his delay. “I am going to freshen up. Is my interview arranged?”

“Yes, sir. He arrived bright and early this morning and was most cordial. I gave him a preliminary interview and he seems most suited to the task before him.”

“The trials before him,” Gideon said dryly. “Very well, tell him I will be with him in about twenty minutes, and have tea brought. I am positively famished.”

The secretary bowed and murmured acknowledgements of the orders.

Gideon swiftly climbed the stairs to his bedchamber, where he wasted no time in freshening up, replacing his travel clothes with appropriate afternoon attire, offering prayers to whatever gods might possibly be bored enough to care that this tutor would last, would instill something resembling discipline in his brother.

Smoothing down his dark blue-gray afternoon coat, Gideon adjusted his cravat and finally made his way back downstairs to his study. A maid was just leaving the room, and bobbed a curtsy when she saw him. “Just brought the tea, milord.”

“Thank you,” Gideon murmured, then opened the door and strode into the study, struggling to remember the potential tutor’s name. Arthur? No…Audrey? No, it was more interesting than that…Art…Artemis! That had been it. Artemis Clark. “Mr. Clark, I appreciate your patience in…” Gideon drifted off and stared as Clark stood up and faced him, just noticing through his shock the ashen pallor that overtook the other man’s face. Tem’s face.





Only habit and sheer force of will permitted Tem to keep his misery contained.

It figured. It so bloody figured to the point he couldn’t stand it.

One bloody impulse he’d given into, one bloody chance he’d decided to take, and the greatest night of his life was going to cost him his last chance at employment. At freedom. Thank goodness his new clothes and the cost of travel had made buying food impossible, for if he’d had anything to eat it would be all over the floor and Gideon’s fine carpet.

No, not Gideon. Lord Fairfax, the Earl of Foxwood. The most fascinating man he’d ever encountered, the most passionate lover he’d ever had…and Tem didn’t know what to do now. Well, he did. He just didn’t want to do it.

How the bloody hell had he not known Gideon was a peer of the realm? The man had acted as though he were about Tem’s station, if slightly better off financially. Not once had the damnable man given any indication he was nobility.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, forcing air past the despair making his chest heavy, Tem managed to make himself move, speak. He sketched a bow. “Your lordship, I will take my leave. I do apologize for wasting your time. Thank you for considering me as a fitting tutor for your brother. I bid you good day.”

Not quite able to bring himself to look at Gideon, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach as the heavenly scent of food tormented him, Tem straightened his shoulders and held his head high as he made for the door.

“I did not dismiss you,” Gideon said, voice calm, almost deceptively relaxed. “You may sit.”

Tem turned back around, brow furrowing in confusion. “My lord?” What was going on? He’d all but thrown himself at the man last night; in the eyes of any noble that made him glaringly unfit to act as tutor – to act in any capacity in a proper home.

Gideon motioned him back to his seat. “My secretary said you seemed most fit to serve as tutor. Have you experience in such things? I am afraid I did not read all the information I was sent.” He smiled briefly, sheepishly, and all Tem could remember was how fine that mouth tasted.

He reprimanded himself sharply to focus on his chance for employment, not how badly he wanted to strip his potential employer and taste all that fine skin anew. “Some, my lord.” The honorific would not settle on his tongue, stiff and awkward after gasping and moaning and crying Gideon’s name all night. “I assisted my own teacher in giving lessons to the children in my village, and often tutored many of them in the evenings. The schools which I attended were listed in the papers I posted to your secretary, though I can list them all now for you if you care.”

“I can look over it later. You are skilled in all the requisite subjects?”

“Yes, my lord, in addition to all the higher ones. I am quite capable of bringing your brother through the remainder of his preliminary lessons and well into his advanced studies.”

Gideon nodded, pale gray eyes regarding him thoughtfully, so exotic looking against the dark red of his curly hair. “You will also be expected to tend and watch over him. He needs constant guidance and supervision…” Gideon sighed. “I will not lie, Mr. Clark. My brother is a handful, and I’ve gone through more tutors than I feel like admitting. Tending him is no easy task. Do you feel you will be up to it? I would like him tamed before I introduce him to the court in three more years.”

Tem almost laughed. A wild child. He could handle those…far better than his brother had handled him… His back burned with the memories of his brother’s efforts to ‘tame’ him. “I know well the sort of things such boys get into, my lord. I am most certainly up the task.”

“Very well, then. You will be here conditionally for six months, after which we will reevaluate your place. Salary will be one hundred silver a month, and you get two days a month entirely to yourself, as well as the usual holidays.”

Tem bowed his head. “Thank you, my lord.”

Gideon stood and strode to pull on the bell cord, and when a servant appeared waved Tem off. “Show Mr. Clark to Pierce’s rooms, see that he’s comfortably settled in his own rooms.”

Obediently Tem followed the servant out, but he barely noticed the walk through the massive manor, his thoughts solely for Gideon.

Who, after that initial moment of shock, had ceased to give any indication that he knew Tem. ‘Mr. Clark’ sounded as wretched as ‘my lord’ did…but what had he expected? For Gideon to break protocol and kiss him dizzy, grateful that he had not vanished? Tem almost laughed bitterly at himself.

Protocol and propriety were the way of the world. No one broke the rules except in the dark of night where they could not be seen doing it. By daylight, all must obey or have obedience beaten into them.

His back throbbed, reminding him just how true those words were.

Reminding him just how stupid it had been to give in to an impulse after so many years of reining in his behavior. He was lucky to have a job.

100 silver. All his problems would go away with such a generous salary. Best of all, he could write James that he had succeeded, he would not be returning home, and his brother could go to bloody hell.

Just thinking of finally obtaining his freedom…it very nearly took his breath away.

“Right this way, Master Clark,” the servant said politely, opening a door into a suite of rooms clearly belonging to a young boy. Blues and greens, pictures portraying great hunts, knights and dragons… “Master Pierce!”

No one replied to the servant’s call, and Tem could see annoyance flicker across the servant’s face. Well, that wouldn’t do to make a favorable impression. “You may go, I will find the boy. Best to begin as I will be going on, yes?”

“Quite so, sir,” the servant muttered, and gladly made his departure.

Tem moved to the window seat and picked up the book that had been abandoned there. He tilted his head as he read the title. The Brooksfield History of Fencing. Intriguing. Not the usual choice for a twelve-year old boy. He skimmed the marked page, from the chapter elaborating on the weapons themselves.

The book was well-used, but cared for. It showed every sign of having been read at least a hundred times, if not more.

A rustling sound made him smile faintly. “Under the bed, are we? I was going to try the wardrobe, so I guess that means you are one up on me, young Master Pierce.”

More rustling, and Tem barely kept himself from staring at the miniature Gideon that stood before him. The red hair was brighter, no doubt it would darken with age, and the boy’s eyes were green rather than gray, but Tem did not doubt for a moment that Gideon had looked exactly like this as a boy. He would use the word adorable if he didn’t suspect the brothers would suffer apoplexy from hearing it. “An honor and pleasure to meet you, Master Pierce. My name is Artemis Clark. As we will be spending a great deal in one another’s company, you may call me Artemis.”

The boy regarded him suspiciously.

“Come now,” Tem teased gently. “Surely you know the proper responses?”

“You’re not going to punish me for hiding under the bed?” Pierce asked, expression stating that he would not believe a denial.

Tem filed that remark away to ask Gideon about later. “For hiding under the bed? Hardly. Now, if you’d been hiding on the roof I might have been a bit sore with you, and then only because that is dangerous and stupid.”

Pierce’s eyes widened. “The roof?”

“Yes,” Tem said dryly. “Do not be trying it. I assure you that falling off the roof is not a pleasant thing, especially when one’s brother finds out and administers the discipline himself.”

Pain filled the young face briefly, quickly replaced by a forced indifference. “Gideon wouldn’t care.”

“That is not true,” Tem said firmly. He knew very much what it was like when a brother did not care. He pushed on before the boy could reply, knowing it was the wrong time for such an argument – and it was not his place to interfere anyway, though it was obvious there were unspoken problems between the brothers. “You were reading about fencing?”

Pierce suddenly paled, clearly haven forgotten about the book. He bolted forward and snatched it away. “It’s none of your business,” he said, then turned and fled the bedroom.

Lifting a brow at that, Tem followed him. “What is wrong?” he asked, seeing Pierce shove the book not on but behind the bookcase. The boy jumped and spun around, guilt plain on his face.

“Don’t tell Gideon.”

Stranger and stranger. “Will you tell me why you are hiding that book? I must have good reason to keep secrets from my employer.” Tem knelt so that he was at eye-level with Pierce, looking directly into the boy’s shadowed green eyes. “It’s only a book. Why would Gideon be mad?”

Pierce stared at him, obviously wanting to believe him, but if the boy had scared off as many tutors as Gideon indicated, trust was not something the boy gave easily.

Tem should not care so much. He’d known this boy all of ten minutes now…but he knew the emotions that put the shadows in those eyes too well. Knew how precious certain secrets were…and it was obvious that Pierce did not hate his brother, though he thought Gideon hated him. “I have a brother, you know. He does not like me. When we were young, he was quite mean to me. He took my pets and lost them in the woods, and when my parents died he oversaw my education and discipline. He used to beat me quite often for being ‘rebellious.’ Do you know that word?”

“It means you didn’t listen,” Pierce said, frowning suspiciously at him. “Why were you like that?”

“Rebellious? I thought my brother was too boring; he thought I was too loud. He was older, so he beat me. I used to get revenge by putting cod liver oil in his tea.” That was putting rather a playful spin on matters, but Pierce didn’t need to hear the bloody details.

“Gideon isn’t like that,” Pierce said, clearly offended, confirming what Tem had already suspected – that Pierce very much loved his older brother.

What in the world was going on here? He was supposed to be a tutor, not a mystery solver…but he could not bear to see anyone come even close to enduring what he once had.

“So why do you hide the book, Master Pierce?”

“I don’t like Master,” Pierce said instead. “Gideon doesn’t either.”

Tem smiled. “I never cared much for titles myself.” He set aside the book mystery, for obviously that would take awhile to crack. “So how about we discuss our arrangement, hmm?” He moved to sit at the table obviously meant for studies and motioned for Pierce to do the same. “I would very much like not to be run off, and you are very much in need of lessons if you’re going to be as strong and smart as your brother someday.”

“I could never be like Gideon,” Pierce said with the knowing wisdom of a twelve-year old.

“You could be if you stopped running off tutors,” Tem said calmly.

Pierce’s expression turned dark. “I’m not very good at numbers.”

Tem lifted one brow. “Then we will devote extra time to them.”

“Can we study outside?”

“Provided it’s not cold,” Tem said with a smile. “I detest the cold.”

Pierce narrowed his eyes. “I like drinking chocolate for breakfast.”

What the devil was up with all the strange comments and questions? Tem wondered what precisely all his former tutors had done to the boy. “I prefer tea myself.”

“Could we go swimming sometimes?”

Tem smiled. “That goes along with studying outdoors, I should think. I firmly believe in exercising body and mind. As before, so long as it is not cold, I foresee no problem with that.”

“What about punishment?” Pierce asked, staring at him defiantly.

“I prefer you just behave, but if you require discipline then I will discuss such matters with your brother first. I do not lay my hand to a student unless I am told I must. Your brother gave no such order, nor do I think he will.” Someone who touched the way Gideon did…he could not see Gideon being in favor of beatings.

Pierce nodded slowly. “You don’t seem to be a bloody arse like all the rest.”

Tem fought not to laugh. “Well, here is your first reprimand. A gentleman does not say ‘bloody arse’ unless there is grave call to do so. However, I do admire your direct nature. Let us keep to that, hmm? Now, ring for tea and we shall see where you stand with your lessons.”

Pierce looked at him, frowning, obviously confused…then slowly nodded and did as he was told.

When the tea came, Tem thanked the servant and gently prodded Pierce to do the same, nodding in approval.

“Now, what were you learning when you scared off the last one?”

Pierce wolfed down a bite of scone as he stood up and crossed to the bookcase, pulling down several and setting them down with a thump on the desk. “These. I’m halfway through the lessons, except for numbers which I’m only on the third lesson.”

“You are making fine progress, then, all things considered. I will tell Gideon, he will be happy to know you’re dong well.”

For reply, Pierce only frowned and went back to his scone. Tem shifted the conversation to idle chatter, asking questions about the manor and grounds, quietly searching out and storing information he could use to instruct and guide Pierce. The boy was not the devil he had assumed…it was clear too many of his tutors had favored a heavy hand, when it was obvious the boy needed no such thing.

Silence fell at last, as he left the boy to his own thoughts. He’d just picked up the book of history lessons when Pierce broke the lull, his voice faint and hesitant, eyes locked on his teacup. “He threw the book out, Gideon I mean.” Tem knew immediately he meant the hidden book on fencing. “When they died. It makes him sad and angry. It’s my fault.”

Tem nodded, firmly keeping back the myriad questions he burned to ask. “Thank you for telling me,” he said solemnly. “I will not tell him you have it.”

Though he would find out what the bloody hell was going on.




The sound of someone trying very hard not to be heard brought his head up, and Tem set aside his book and stood. His room connected to the school room, with Pierce’s room on the other side of it.

Pierce was up to something.

Tem crossed his room and stepped soundlessly out into the hallway, lifting a brow as he caught sight of the small figure padding quietly down the hallway, his long night robe just brushing the floor. Swiftly, silently, he caught the boy up, clapping his hand over Pierce’s mouth.

“Now, now, Pierce, I do believe you are getting into mischief. Will you be quiet if I let you go?” The way the boy had jumped, the nasty shock would serve as better discipline than shouting and beating ever could. Setting him down, Tem titled his face up and frowned. “What are you doing, Pierce?”

He was taken aback when the boy suddenly looked ready to cry. “I just wanted to watch him. I always do. I never do anything wrong. Honest. I just want to watch him.”

Tem frowned, thoroughly confused. “Watch who do what?”

Pierce sniffled, obviously still scared by being caught, and anxious about whatever he’d been about. “I-I’m sorry.”

Kneeling, Tem stroked his hair. How on earth could anyone consider this boy a terror? “You shouldn’t be sneaking about, Pierce. If you do something to get hurt, someone might not hear you. That would upset your brother.”

“But I go to watch him…”

Tem blinked. “Watch…Gideon? Do what?”

An expression that was unmistakably hero-worship lit up Pierce’s face, and it was impossible to tell that just a second ago the boy had been about to cry. He grasped Tem’s hand and tugged him along. “You can come see, too. He’s in the ballroom; I know how to get onto the balcony. Come on!” Beaming now, he held fast to Tem’s hand and half-walked, half-ran through the hallways.

When they reached the balcony and Tem got a look at what was below, only the fact that the boy didn’t need to see such things kept him from throwing himself off the balcony to have his wicked way with the man below.

Gideon was fencing, dueling his shadow across the candlelit ballroom, thrusting, dodging, parrying. He made it look like dancing, as natural as breathing. Tem thought the only thing more beautiful and sensual was Gideon braced above him, lost in the throes of passion. He swallowed, grateful he still wore his night robe and that it was voluminous enough to hide his reaction to the sight of Gideon sparring.

He shifted his attention to Pierce, who still wore that look of hero-worship. Tem thought the entire house could come crashing down about them and the boy would not notice unless Gideon stopped fencing.

They watched in silence until the distant chiming of a clock informed them it was one in the morning. Tem was devastated to see that Gideon was stopping, but once the ballroom was empty he was forcibly reminded of his duties. He touched Pierce’s shoulder and led the way back to the boy’s bedroom.

“You watch him fence? Why keep it secret?”

“It’s my fault he only does it late at night,” Pierce said, as though stating a sad fact. “I heard everyone say so.” His eyes were intent, far too adult for twelve. “If not for me, he could still be famous. Are you going to beat me for sneaking out?”

Tem blinked. “Beat you? No. However, you will have extra math lessons tomorrow and I forbid you to sneak around without me, all right? Do you watch him every night?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then we will both go,” Tem said firmly. He wished looking after his charges could always involve such exquisite torture. “Now, off to bed with you. Lessons begin straight after breakfast.”

Pierce nodded and climbed into bed. Once he was settled, Tem snuffed the light and quietly made his way back to his own room. Putting out the light, he stripped off his robe and settled into bed to further torture himself with images of Gideon fencing back and forth across the ballroom floor.

*~*~*~*

Gideon thanked the stable hand and mounted his horse, guiding her away from the manor and out over the fields, urging her to a faster pace and enjoying the brisk breeze. For the first time in far too long, his headache and strain started to ease.

Some of the strain anyway, and it all came rushing back as he crested a hill and looked down into the small valley below.

What had he done to make the gods hate him so?

It was bad enough he couldn’t get that one night with Tem out of his mind. Now he had to watch the bastard charm his little brother, charm the servants, fit perfectly into life at Foxwood…and couldn’t touch. There was enough scandal in his family’s past, he couldn’t make it worse. Someday Pierce would take his own place in the world, and Gideon could not, would not, make it more difficult than it had to be.

Of course, his good intentions were crumbling swiftly beneath the sight of Tem splashing and playing with Pierce in the swimming hold. Gods above, that man looked good wet. Growling, Gideon turned his mare in the opposite direction – but just as he was about to ride off, he caught the sound of someone shouting his name.

Well, shouting ‘Lord Fairfax’ and bloody hell did he hate to hear Tem call him that. Groaning, Gideon turned back around and rode down to the swimming hole. Dismounting, he handed the horse off to the footman who had accompanied the two to the swimming hole and drew close.

He looked at Pierce, as lost as always about what to say to his little brother. He’d only been eighteen when their parents had died. What the hell did an eighteen year old know about raising a child? It didn’t help that he sensed Pierce somehow held him responsible. How did you explain to a young boy that his parents were selfish, stupid fools? They’d only cared about Gideon because he’d been well on his way to becoming a first-class fencer.

Shoving the gloomy, tired thoughts aside, Gideon struggled for something to say. “Pierce. You look as though you’re having fun.”

“Yes, sir,” Pierce said solemnly.

Gideon stifled a sigh.

Tem snorted and ruffled Pierce’s hair. “I hardly think you need call your own brother ‘sir’, Pierce.”

“Yes, I do!” Pierce protested, flicking Gideon a quick, anxious look. “Everyone said so.”

Gideon blinked, a suspicion growing… “I did not say so,” he said slowly, watching the face that looked so much like him at that age. “You’re my little brother; if anyone should call me Gideon, it should be you.”

Pierce’s eyes went so wide Gideon half-feared they’d fall right out of his head, face turning red. “Y-yes, Gideon.”

“That’s better,” Gideon said, smiling faintly. “Is this a lesson? Or a break?”

Tem chuckled. “It started out a lesson, but I fear it devolved rather quickly into a break.”

Gideon finally looked at him, and promptly wished he hadn’t. He wanted nothing as badly as he wanted to lick away the beads of water clinging to that skin…except perhaps to drag the man to his bed and make real every last torturous fantasy of the past two months. He looked away before Tem could see what he was thinking. “Did you bring lunch along with you?”

“N-no,” Pierce replied, cheeks still red as he stared at his brother. “We only were supposed to come study by the water for a little bit. N-numbers.”

“Ah, yes. My worst subject. Perhaps if my tutors had let me study by the swimming hole, I would have enjoyed the lessons more.” He glanced briefly at Tem, then winked at his brother. “Obviously this one is smarter than the others. I am glad. If you’ve no lunch, then you should come and join me at the house.”

Gideon shifted his glance to the footman. “Take my horse back, have cook prepare a light luncheon for three.”

“Yes, my lord,” the footman said, quickly gathering up their things and riding off back to the house.

The three of them fell into step, walking slowly back toward the house. Gideon focused on his brother, both desperate to avoid staring at Tem and pleased that his brother was actually speaking to him. “So what is Te—Mr. Clark doing that you have not scared him away, Pierce?” He winked to emphasize the words were a tease.

Pierce flushed dark and did not reply, dropping his head to stare hard at the grass.

Gideon frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

“Your brother is spirited, my lord,” Tem said, gold-brown eyes watching Pierce with obvious fondness. “Nothing more.”

“Spirited, eh?” Gideon laughed softly and reached out to lightly ruffle his brother’s hair. “I think they merely called me rebellious.”

Pierce looked up, eyes brightening, an eager look overtaking his face. “That’s what Artemis was called too! He said everyone just gave him more lessons. I told him that’s why dad gave you fencing lessons!”

Gideon stumbled to a halt, breath catching in his chest. “What?”

His brother’s face went white, and his eyes filled with tears a second before he suddenly bolted for the house. “Pierce! Stop!” He stared after his little brother in shock. “What…what the bloody hell…”

“He worships the ground you walk upon, you know,” Tem said quietly, staring calmly as Gideon whipped around to face him. “You’re his favorite thing to talk about, especially your fencing skills. Did you know he watches you every night in the ballroom?”

Even as confused and stunned as he was by Pierce bolting, Gideon did not miss the heat that flared for a moment in Tem’s eyes. Brother first. “Worships me? Pierce can barely stand to be around me. This is the first time he’s ever smiled, let alone talked, in my presence.”

Tem smiled in fond amusement. “He thinks you do not like him, my lord. Is quite convinced, no matter what I say, that he is to blame for your giving up fencing. Apparently he overheard unkind comments to that effect not long after your parents died.”

Gideon didn’t have to think hard about who would have been obnoxious enough to say such things within a child’s hearing…Pierce had only been about six, nearly seven, at the time.

What sort of older brother needed a stranger to come along and point such things out to him? Gideon felt more inadequate than ever. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. “It is not his fault. My parents were fools who got themselves killed on one of their grand adventures. They left a financial mess and scandal in their wake. It is hardly Pierce’s fault cleaning up the mess was left to me.”

“Perhaps you should tell him that, my lord.” Tem’s gaze flicked toward the house. “He really does adore you.” He hesitated. “There is a book…a history of fencing, that he hides in the schoolroom. He says it belonged to you.”

Gideon started in surprise. “Brookfield’s? I threw that book out ages ago…” He shook his head, helpless as old pains surfaced. All he’d wanted from the moment his father threw him into fencing lessons was to be the best at it. He’d been well on his way to that goal…then his parents had died, leaving him with a burden he wasn’t sure he could bear. Apparently, he hadn’t been bearing it. “I threw it away to make forgetting it all easier.”

“To judge by your midnight sessions, my lord, I do not think you have managed to forget.”

“I suspect you’re being impertinent,” Gideon replied lightly, fingers twitching to drag the man close, lose his worries and anxieties in the taste of his mouth, the feel of his skin. What about this man could he not forget and let go? That one night would haunt him until he breathed his last. “One does not forget the things he loves, I suppose.” His breath hitched as he said the words, but he refused to linger over why.

As they reached the house, the two men paused in the hallway. “I suppose lunch is off now?” Gideon asked tiredly.

“I doubt he will leave his room the rest of the week,” Tem said with a faint smile. “Perhaps you might think of something to draw him out.” He hesitated. “He was quite happy to see you though, my lord…” Tem turned away and made his way up the stairs.

Gideon watched him go, then went into his study. He needed to think.

He was halfway to his desk before a realization finally struck him.

Bloody hell, Pierce and Tem watched him every night? Gideon collapsed into his chair and buried his face in his hands. Showed how stupidly oblivious he was he’d never noticed.

Pulling his hands from his face, he drummed his fingers on the desk, thoughts racing. He was a lousy older brother, that much was obvious. It was time to fix that.

Then he’d figure out what to do about Tem.

*~*~*~*

“Good, now after the War of Iskas…”

A sharp rap at the door interrupted, and Tem glared. He’d given strict orders that lessons were not to be interrupted unless it was an emergency, and if it were an emergency he knew they would not waste time knocking. “Enter,” he said sharply.

The footman who entered bowed low in apology. “Begging pardon, Master Clark. His lordship has returned and begs an audience with the young master. He extends his apologies for interfering with lessons, but says he is too impatient to wait.”

Tem quirked a brow at that, almost smiling, wondering what Gideon was up to. He’d been gone for nearly three weeks, called away on business. It had happened before, and he’d never demanded to see Pierce before.

Pierce looked torn between being excited or violently ill.

“Well, go get cleaned up, Pierce,” Tem urged. “If he’s that excited to see you, best not to keep him waiting.”

Requiring no further encouragement, Pierce bolted into his room to tidy up.

The footman chuckled softly. “His lordship added your presence would be most welcome. He is waiting for you both in the library.”

“Oh?” Tem said. Curious. Still, far be it for him to refuse any opportunity to spend time in Gideon’s company. He was pathetic, he knew it, for Gideon had obviously let go of that night quite easily. That didn’t stop him, though. He’d long ago resigned himself to being pathetic. What he had was far more than he could have hoped. “We will be there once Master Pierce stops fretting about which coat to wear.”

Chuckling again, the footman departed.

“Pierce,” Tem called, “The hunter green will be fine. Put the dark plum away and hurry.”

“Yes, Artemis,” Pierce said sheepishly, cheeks red as he came out dressed in a hunter green coat.

Tem smiled. “A few more years and I will be hard pressed to tell the two of you apart.” He refused to think about the fact that by the time Pierce was old enough to bear a stronger resemblance to Gideon, Tem’s time here would be over.

The depths to which he would miss this place astounded him, but he accepted it. His…confused feelings aside, he liked Foxwood and all who lived there. It felt warm in a way his own home never had. No, the rage of that place still burned on his back.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling at the quick nod Pierce gave him. “You needn’t look so nervous. It sounds as though he is quite eager to see you.” Tem led the way from the room, down the stairs and to the library. At the door, he gently pushed Pierce forward. “Go. Knock, then enter.”

Gulping audibly, Pierce obeyed the firm tone in his tutor’s voice, knocking quietly and then hesitantly pushing the door open.

Gideon stood before a wide table in the center of the room. Currently it was piled with several books and a long, wide, shallow box.

Tem wondered if the desire to spring upon the man and devour him whole would ever fade. Somehow he doubted it. Even more than that, however, he wanted to be allowed to brush the stray curls from his cheeks and kiss him in greeting as though it were perfectly normal and natural.

He couldn’t. He never would. One night should not have resulted in this prolonged misery and longing.

“Pierce,” Gideon said with a smile. “You are looking well. Lessons not killing you quite yet?”

“N-no, sir. Gideon.”

“I confess I often snuck off for naps when the weather began to cool. My favorite bed was the green room.”

Pierce gaped.

Gideon chuckled and stepped away from the table, motioning toward the box taking up most of it. “I was in the city, and visited the townhouse for the first time in ages. These were still in storage. I thought, if you were interested, that I might teach you what to do with them.” His eyes gleamed with amusement – and no small bit of nervousness, but Tem doubted Pierce noticed.

Tem pushed Pierce forward gently when he only stared in confusion between the table and his brother. “Open the box.”

Giving them both uncertain looks, Pierce approached the table and fumbled awkwardly with the box. The lid banged loudly against the table as he stood gawking at the contents. He stared with wide, tear-bright eyes at Gideon. “But—you—“

“You seemed so interested,” Gideon said slowly, “I thought you might like fencing lessons of your own. I am a bit rusty, but I thought I could give you the lessons myself.”

Pierce burst into tears. “But it’s my fault you’re not a champion! I remember, she said ‘if not for the b-b-brat.’”

Gideon strode forward and stooped to catch his brother up in a tight embrace. “I did not know you felt so, Pierce. Listen to me. My stopping fencing had nothing to do with you. Nothing. It’s not your fault. I chose to stop.”

“But she said!”

“I don’t know who ‘she’ is but she’s a nasty, evil liar,” Gideon said fervently, pulling back and putting his hands on Pierce’s shoulders. “It is not your fault. Now, do you want to learn to fence?”

Pierce nodded and wiped futilely at the tears on his cheeks. “Uh-huh. You were the b-best. I used to watch you duel, even when nurse said I wasn’t allowed.”

“Well, it’s much more fun to do than watch,” Gideon said with a smile. He gave his brother another quick hug. “Run along now, I need to speak with your tutor about adjusting your schedule to fit in fencing lessons, hmm?”

Bobbing an eager nod, Pierce shyly gave his brother a hug back, then bolted from the room.

Tem smiled softly as the door closed behind him. “I confess I am jealous. My big brother never hugged me, not even at the funeral of our parents.” No, his brother had ignored him utterly. When he wasn’t beating him. As a child, he would have given anything to be Pierce for one day.

Though at this moment, his feelings towards Gideon were anything but brotherly.

“My parents were nothing but scandal,” Gideon said quietly, closing the box holding a set of fencing swords and leaning against the table. “One thing after another; I do not even want to think about how many bastard children there may be that would explain why Pierce and I are twelve years apart in age. That I am not snubbed by all of society…” He shook his head. “It’s mostly dumb luck, in that I happened to make powerful friends while I was still pursuing my fencing career.” He sighed and moved to the window, fingers tangling in the curtains. “I have worked very hard not to add further scandal to the family history. Pierce will have enough to endure when he joins society properly. I did not want him to have to endure gossip about his brother on top of everything else.”

He let go of the curtain and turned to face Tem. “Your note that night said you’d never given in to such impulse before…”

Tem forced himself to breath. To stand calmly in place. “I hadn’t. I learned the hard way to behave or be bloody discreet about misbehaving. You…” Made thinking straight impossible.

“I generally pay for my pleasure,” Gideon replied. “I had never before broken my rule about avoiding all risk of scandal before that night. You were temptation incarnate.” He stalked toward Tem. “You are still temptation incarnate. Having you here but not being able to touch has been sheer hell.” He stared into Tem’s eyes. “I am hoping valiantly that I am not the only one to feel so.”

“No,” Tem said, staring into those mist-fine gray eyes. “I…you seemed to have left it all behind. I had resigned myself to it being one-sided.”

Gideon groaned and suddenly Tem was pressed right up against him, surrounded by heat, the intoxicating scent of the man who’d stalked his every thought. He ceased to do anything but feel as Gideon’s mouth crashed down over his, as hot and consuming as it had been all those months ago. He moaned and opened completely to the assault, fingers wandering through hair, over those fine broad shoulders, tangling in the fabric of his afternoon coat.

The world shifted, shook, then steadied abruptly as Tem found himself pressed up against a wall, Gideon flush against him, greedy hands searching beneath his clothes for skin. He stiffened as those hands explored his back, and sought to distract Gideon. His greatest shame…he did not want to see the horror and disgust in Gideon’s eyes upon seeing those horrible scars.

In his agony over not having, he’d let that old fear fall to the wayside. Now it came back full force. Tem sucked on Gideon’s bottom lip as he let his hands roam to explore the splendid chest he had not forgotten in the slightest. Through the fine lawn of Gideon’s shirt he rubbed and pinched the hardened nipples, then let one hand drop to tease across that fine, flat stomach before dipping further to explore a hard heat he remembered with perfect clarity. He moaned into Gideon’s mouth. “My lord…”

“Please stop calling me that,” Gideon said, dipping his head to trail sharp, biting kisses along Tem’s throat. “I swear I am sick of calling you Clark…please…”

Tem dragged his head up for a proper kiss, wishing the world would stop so he could do this forever, wondering how he’d gone so long without tasting, without touching. He moaned low as knowing fingers touched and tormented while that hot mouth continued to devour his. “Gideon…”

“Tem.” Gideon said his name like it was something precious. “You make me want to do scandalous things.”

“Do them,” Tem said against his mouth, licking his lips.

Gideon chuckled, breaking apart far enough to shove Tem’s jacket and shirt from his shoulders, tossing them aside. “How did I resist you for so long, Tem?”

“I am trying to figure out how I behaved myself,” Tem gasped as teeth fastened around one nipple, Gideon biting hard before soothing the sting with his tongue. “What changed your mind? I was resigned…” He shuddered as the eager, passionate assault continued.

“You. Pierce. I am tired of punishing myself for their behavior. You are worth a scandal, so long as you are willing.” Gideon opened the placket of his trousers and pushed his hand inside, and Tem bucked, muffling his shout against Gideon’s shoulder. “I think…you know precisely how…willing I am.”

Gideon kissed him hard, and Tem was left bereft as Gideon let him go – but then he was gently grabbed and guided toward the wide, leather couch on the far side of the room.

Just as suddenly he was halted, and a horrified gasp brought him up short, made his blood run cold.

“Tem…” Gentle fingers traced the scars covering his back.

“I’m sorry. Usually I’m not so careless.” Which said exactly just how much trouble he was in, as if he didn’t already know. Tem looked around for his shirt and coat, dismayed that they were so far away. He curled his arms around himself, feeling the scars, the pain that had created them, the shame of having them. “They’re unseemly. That’s why I didn’t let you see them before.” He pulled away and went to retrieve his clothes, shame making him feel both hot and cold. “I can go.”

Gideon growled low and shoved him toward and onto the deep leather sofa. The kiss he gave Tem was slow, sweet and soothing. “Why would you go?”

“They’re ugly. Shameful. No one likes them. Why would they?”

Giving a soft, derisive snort, Gideon turned Tem over and pressed soft, tender kisses to the tangle of scars. “Tem, you’re not going anywhere. Ever. Except perhaps to my bed. I’d only let you leave that for Pierce’s lessons if I had my way.”

Tem laughed softly, hands attempting to find a grip and able only to slide across smooth, warm leather. He groaned as a warm tongue bathed his skin, his scars. “Gideon…”

Gideon turned him back over. “Who did that to you, Tem? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. He won’t ever again. I’m employed, have my own income. He no longer has a hold on me.”

“Who?” Gideon demanded. “I want to make certain I am never accidentally polite to the bastard in public should I encounter him.”

Tem smiled sadly and stroked Gideon’s cheek. “My brother. I was wild as a boy, he tried to break me. I learned to hide. It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t want to talk about him. I would prefer you remember how willing I am and take full advantage.”

Growling, Gideon pressed him deeper into the couch and took his mouth in another dizzying kiss, making the rest of the world vanish. Hands slid between his back and the couch, rougher than the leather and a thousand times warmer.

Moaning into the kiss, Tem lifted his own hands in search of skin, wanting badly to see the fine muscles he’d dreamed about for so long, the memory of how Gideon looked dueling his own shadow across the ballroom making him ache more than ever. He tugged impatiently at the cloth that was in his way, nipping sharply at Gideon’s throat when the man only laughed at him.

A moment later, though, the impediments were gone and Tem was able to lavish attention upon the skin and hard muscle beneath that he’d ached to touch and taste again. Greedy for all that he could get, Tem shoved hard, reversing their position, straddling Gideon on the wide couch, and ducked his head to enjoy the feast before him.

The sound of the door opening struck him a moment too late, and he looked up in time to see a maid drop the tea tray she held, the crashing of silver and shattering of porcelain jarring. Face bright red, the maid let out a squeak and bolted from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Tem stared after her, completely frozen.

Gideon’s soft chuckles finally brought him back to his senses. “I guess that settles that. We are well on our way to causing a scandal now.”

Tem stared down at him, and after a moment shared Gideon’s grin. “All the fuss people make of scandalous behavior, I did not think it would be quite so pleasant.”

“Pleasant? Gideon repeated. He narrowed his eyes at Tem. “If all you feel is pleasant, then I clearly am not being scandalous enough.”

Laughing, Tem leaned down until there was barely a breath of space between them. “Then I suggest you try harder to scandalize me, sir.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Gideon replied, and closed the remaining space between them.