A Gentleman's Position (Society of Gentlemen) (23 page)

M
AY 1, 1820

“Gammoned,” David said, and sat back with a triumphant grin.

Silas growled. “You sneaking ginger bastard.”

“You were distracted tonight,” David offered kindly. “I can’t think why. Unless you’re waiting for something.”

The Ricardians, including Mr. Frey, were dining downstairs in private celebration of victory now the events at White’s had worked themselves out. Lord Maltravers had not taken his humiliation well, and his spluttering bewilderment at his shattered reputation had only made things worse. Julius Norreys had dubbed him Cassandra, after the Greek prophetess who told the truth and was never believed. His lordship’s wedding to Miss Martindale had been postponed for reasons of ill health; her maid, no admirer of his lordship, gleefully reported that it was a matter of time till it was called off. Lord Maltravers had retired to the country for fresh air and quiet. Everyone knew that was at his furious father’s command.

“So what now?” David asked.

Silas glanced at the clock, which was almost at midnight. “Another game?”

“I doubt we’ve time. I don’t think it’ll be an all-night carouse downstairs. No, I meant you. Will you be staying with us?”

Silas shook his head. “I want to get my shop open again. My own place. Reckon I should be safe to do that now. It’ll be a while yet till I get it set up, but it’s time to start planning.”

He’d lost his bookshop in a fire earlier that year, and David knew Silas missed his independence. Still, he’d be sorry to lose his radical friend from the household. “Lord Richard would have you here indefinitely, you know.”

“Aye, I know. He’s not a bad fellow. Didn’t think much of him at first but…not so bad.”

“I’m sure he’d be delighted to learn of your good opinion.”

Silas grinned. “And what about you? You pulled it all off.” He tipped his chair back, contemplating David. “You got my lad Harry safe, and me off the gallows, and Dom well out of his lordship’s way, and that young neddy Ash out of trouble.
And
your arse in his lordship’s bed, even, which sounds like as much hard work as all the rest put together. So what’s next for you, Foxy? Back to folding clothes?”

“Whatever’s needed. As and when.”

“At Lord Richard’s service?”

“Let’s say at his side, shall we?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Silas raised his glass and then looked around at the jangle of a bell. “Sounds like that’s the gentry done, so I’ve a promise to keep, and I dare say you’ve business too. Enjoy yourself, redcock.”

“You too, radical. Try not to make Mr. Frey squeal too loudly. It alarms the housemaids,” David said, and ducked out of the door before Silas could throw anything at him.

Richard came into the bedroom and saw David there. As he always was, as he always should be.

“Cyprian,” he said, shutting the door.

“Good evening, my lord. I hope you’ve had a pleasant time?”

“Very pleasant indeed.” Richard locked the door, then walked to his usual position by the mirror. David ran his hands up Richard’s back as if smoothing the coat. Richard breathed in sharply. “A great deal more pleasant for seeing you.”

“I thought you might stay talking later.” David was taking his time over Richard’s coat, shifting it off his shoulders with excruciating care. He could feel his valet’s breath on the nape of his neck.

“I was preoccupied, and I don’t think I was the only one. David, would you like to go to France?”

That got David’s attention. “We’re not fleeing the country, are we?”

Richard laughed, feeling David’s hands on him shifting with the shake of his shoulders. “Oddly enough, no. Ash tells me that Warminster has lost patience with Lord Maltravers and is sending him on a lengthy tour of the Continent. Julius says if this starts another European war, he will enlist on the other side. Francis simply hopes his boat will sink.”

“Mr. Webster is a very sensible gentleman,” David said. “If Lord Maltravers will be on the Continent, isn’t that a good reason to stay in England?”

Richard turned. David’s arms slid around him at the same time, and Richard took hold of his slim hips in return. “The Continent is large enough to hold us all. It simply occurred to me that I enjoyed my own travels abroad a great deal. I thought perhaps you would like to see Paris and the French fashions. We would travel very light. No entourage.” He bent his head to press a kiss to David’s pointed ear. “Just a gentleman and his valet, quite anonymously doing as we wish.”

David tilted his head, allowing Richard access to his pale neck. “That sounds…wonderful.”

“Mmm.” Richard tugged at David’s neckcloth, wanting it undone. “We must go to Tarlton March first, of course, to spend some of the summer with Philip’s family. And pay a visit to Cricklade while we are there. But then—”

“Paris.” David was removing Richard’s cravat with three times Richard’s dexterity despite working around his arms. “I should very much like to see Paris. I have never been abroad.
Paris.
” There was awe in his voice.

Richard couldn’t adorn David’s ears with jewels and doubted very much he’d want them. Even the plainest gifts would be attention-grabbing, inappropriate, dangerous. Richard would just have to give his valet the world instead. “Paris, Lyons. Munich, even. We can go wherever takes our fancy, for however long we like. I cannot be expected to travel without you, after all.” He cupped David’s face in both hands, stilling him, relishing the feel of long, sleek hair under his fingers. “I love you, my fox. I wish I’d had you there tonight, there with us. You should have had the highest seat at the table, and we all knew it. I honestly believe Julius was expecting me to present you to the others.”

David’s brows shot up. “As your lover?”

“Mmm. He has evidently guessed. Do you mind?”

“Not if you don’t. I don’t care about any of that. I have what I want.”

“You are content with your position.” Richard slid his thumbs over David’s mouth, felt his lips move. “I fear I am not at all content with mine.”

David frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Richard smiled into David’s eyes and then, carefully, because he’d had a glass of wine more than usual, went down to his knees.

“You’re right,” David said. “That
is
a better position. Oh, yes. Oh, my lord.”

“My fox,” Richard mumbled.

David gasped at the touch of Richard’s mouth. “My
God.
”

“Now, that is overstating it.” Richard took tighter hold of David’s thighs. “Stop laughing, damn it. I am
attending
to you.”

“You have my undivided attention,” David assured him as his fingers tightened in Richard’s hair. “All yours.”

His. His valet, his passion, his redheaded secret. His truth that could never be lightly shared because it would not be understood. The world would have nothing but contempt for his love affair or for his lover.

The world knew nothing, not how David’s skin felt under Richard’s fingers and lips, or the sound of his gasps at Richard’s touch. He was Lord Richard Vane with Cyprian at his side, where he belonged, and if the world was fool enough to get in their way, it would just have to be dealt with. Be damned to meeting the demands of rank and society; Richard, with David all shuddering pleasure under his hands, had better things to do.

For Alexis Hall, who is unstinting with his help and doesn’t hold back on the crit. Thank you.

Alexis Hall, Natalie Shaw, May Peterson, and Joanna Chambers held my hand and read my drafts with extraordinary generosity and patience. Jonathon Green’s Timelines of Slang are invaluable to any historical writer and especially the sweary ones. Find him on Twitter
@MisterSlang
. I am very grateful to Sue Grimshaw and the whole Loveswept team and to my wonderful agent, Deidre Knight. And I’d like to personally hug every one of the KJC Chatters, whose support, enthusiasm, and fun mean so much to me. Cheers to you all.

The Ruin of Gabriel Ashleigh
(novella)

A Fashionable Indulgence

A Seditious Affair

A Gentleman’s Position

K
.
J
.
C
HARLES
is a writer and freelance editor living in London. She has a husband, two kids, and a cat when he’s not off on a murder spree. Find K.J. all too often on Twitter, or look up KJ Charles Chat on Facebook for book chat and sneak peeks.

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by K. J. Charles

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