DefeatedbyLove (11 page)

Daniel drummed his fingers on the table, his face blank as
he stared at them all. “Well played.” He stood up. “Yes, I shall accompany you
if only to keep you out of trouble. Should you disappear again we’ll be back
where we started.”

Harry grinned at him. “I knew you cared.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Daniel said, brushing past him. “Be
ready to go in ten minutes.”

“What do you think?” Harry turned slowly around in front of
the mirror, watching Daniel’s reaction. The tailor simply stood there, silently
watching them.

Daniel looked madder than a wet hen, and—if his flushed
cheeks and crossed legs were any indication—aroused, which had Harry trying to
keep his own desire in check. He’d been trying on pantaloons and anything else
he could get his hands on, pretending he couldn’t make up his mind. But he was
standing there shirtless, and changing the pants required him to strip down,
and there was nowhere else for Daniel to go. His tailor’s shop was small, one
room in front for clients and one in back for work. Daniel sat in the only
chair available, which faced the mirror.

Before leaving the house this morning Daniel had sent his
valet to Harry’s room to shave him and cut his hair. He looked halfway
civilized now. The chap had left some nicely trimmed side-whiskers that Harry
quite liked. But he’d been more than happy to be rid of the itchy beard. He
rubbed his smooth chin and sniffed the scent the valet had slapped on. Very
nice. Daniel had certainly liked it. Not that he’d said so, but he’d been out
of sorts ever since Harry had come down the stairs, which could only mean he
was reluctantly attracted to Harry’s newly shorn looks.

Harry was not oblivious to the fact that he’d changed
physically in the last ten years. He was taller, and far more muscular than he
used to be. Hiking, trapping, riding and a plethora of other manual chores had
made his shoulders quite broad and his arms thick with muscle. The last few
months on board ship hauling and lifting had kept him in good condition,
although he was a little too thin. But Daniel didn’t seem to mind. He’d nearly
fallen off the chair when Harry had stripped naked in front of him.

“They’re too small,” Daniel said tightly. “Just like the
last five pairs.” He glared at the tailor. “Would you please give him a pair
that fits?”

“It’s hard,” the tailor said, shaking his head. Harry nearly
laughed aloud at the truth in that statement. “He’s a bit taller and more
muscular than most of my clientele. I’ll have to make a few alterations so he
can have a pair right away, and the others I’ll have to make.”

“I should have taken you to Derek Knightly’s tailor,” Daniel
mumbled. The little tailor seemed stricken by his statement. “Oh, Edmund, only
because Derek is as large as a fat bull and his tailor would probably have
something for him. It’s not as if Harry cares how he looks, obviously.”

“I beg to differ,” Harry said. “Back in St. Louis I’m rather
renowned for my sartorial splendor. I cannot be held responsible for the
current condition of my clothes. After all, I’ve been kidnapped by pirates,
dropped off in the middle of two wars, and then attacked by more pirates,
followed by a stint as a lowly crew member on a freighter. Even the best of
clothes would suffer.”

The tailor’s eyes were round. “Is that right, sir?” he
asked, clearly awestruck.

“Oh stop,” Daniel said irritably. “Are you going to parade
that story out everywhere we go?”

“It’s a good story,” Harry said defensively. “Everyone likes
a good yarn.” He stripped the pants down his legs and had to hop around a bit
to get them off. They were a little tight.

“Just give him pants.” Daniel enunciated every word crisply.
“Now.”

Harry hid a grin.

The tailor chewed his lips for a minute. “I’ve a pair of
buckskins in back,” he said reluctantly. “Not the latest thing, I know, but
they’ll most likely fit.”

“Buckskins it is,” Daniel said, slapping his gloves against
his palm. “Hie back there and get them.”

“But trousers are what gentlemen are wearing in town,” the
tailor fussed.

“Then make me some trousers,” Harry said with a smile and a
pat on the man’s back. “As soon as you can. But for today, the buckskins.”

“Yes, sir,” the tailor said. “How many trousers, and what
style?”

“I should think five would do,” Harry said. “As for style
and whatnot, you choose.”

“After all that?” Daniel snapped. “Why on earth did you
waste time if you were simply going to let him choose?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s been a while since I enjoyed new
clothes.”

Daniel growled in the back of his throat and stared at the
ceiling. “Put something on.”

“I’m trying. But he hasn’t given them to me yet.” The tailor
scurried into the back. Harry walked around the room, not even pretending to
have an ounce of modesty. “I liked the blue coat. I’m partial to the gold
buttons. What do you think?” He’d noticed Daniel staring when he’d tried on the
blue.

“You could at least put on the shirt and cravat,” Daniel
said, pointing to them where they were draped over a table.

“Of course,” Harry said agreeably. He walked right in front
of Daniel, half hard cock and all, as he sauntered over to the table.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Daniel said
through clenched teeth. “Parading around here like a whore selling her wares. I
am not buying.”

Harry laughed. “That’s ridiculous. Of course you’re not.
It’s free.”

“Your wife—”

“Is probably under Simon right now,” Harry finished for him,
pulling the shirt over his head. “Surely you have gleaned from weeks in her
company that ours was not a love match. It wasn’t really any sort of match at
all. I gave her my name, she took it, I left. The end.”

“Yes, you’re very good at leaving,” Daniel snipped.

“Oh, so that’s what this is all about,” Harry said. He
picked up the cravat and began wrapping it around his neck. “Not that I
married, but that I left. Her or you?” Daniel didn’t respond. He sat with his
arms crossed, refusing to look at Harry. “You, then,” Harry assumed. “I had no
choice, and you know it. Sir Barnabas James took the matter out of my hands
when he put my commission on the block and sent me home.”

“You certainly didn’t argue,” Daniel said, pulling on one of
his gloves. “One day declaring undying love for me and the next packing a bag
while calmly telling me you were leaving to marry a secret fiancée. Secret only
to me, apparently.”

“Yes, it’s all about you,” Harry said, starting to lose his
temper. “I was nineteen goddamn years old, I’d just managed to survive a battle
that nearly saw me skewered by a French sabre, beaten up by your old lover, and
told I was being summarily shipped home, papers were signed, commission gone,
fare thee unwell.” He saluted. “What do you think I should have done? Said no
thank you? I’d like to stay so that I can continue to fuck Daniel?”

“Ahem.” The tailor cleared his throat loudly behind the
curtain that separated the two rooms before he whisked it open and appeared
with a pair of pants over his arm. “Here you are, sir.”

Harry snatched the pants from him and tugged them on. They
were ludicrously tight. He’d be lucky to still have a pair of ballocks by the
end of the day. He shoved his shirttails into the pants and buttoned the falls.
“I need a watch and fob. And boots. And a hat.”

“Fine. We’ll go to the bootmaker first. Fetch him a
waistcoat.”

“White?” the tailor asked, eyeing Harry up and down. “And
stockings.”

“Have you any?” Daniel asked. He was standing now, looking
very impatient.

“Yes sir, I have a spare pair.”

By the time they left Harry was presentable, but barely. He
still needed a hat and gloves and a decent pair of boots. Not to mention the
other small items a gentleman needed such as a wallet, a watch and a cane. But
he felt far more confident in decent clothing than he had bumbling into
Daniel’s looking like something the cat dragged in. Once he was sufficiently
armed he’d feel better, however. He felt naked without his knives.

Daniel wanted to hit something. Or someone. Harry, blast his
black heart, looked every inch the most fuckable gentleman Daniel had ever
seen. He was pretty sure that he would never get the sight of Harry standing
there naked and proud out of his head. He had never seen such broad shoulders
and well-defined muscles on a man. Had he been pulling carts or tossing cabers
over there in America?

And now with his dark hair stylishly cut and his beard
shaved, wearing tight buckskins and a well-fitting navy coat he drew every eye
on the street. That damn coat made his one gray eye look so fine that Daniel
wouldn’t be surprised if some ninny wrote an ode about it. Even his eye patch
looked rakish and dangerously erotic. He sighed with disgust.

“I fail to see anything that should produce that level of
irritability,” Harry said, surveying the street before them. He tipped his new
black hat to a group of ladies passing by who tittered annoyingly.

“You irritate me,” Daniel told him.

“Good.”

Daniel refused to rise to the bait. “Why on earth did you
insist on that silly cane?”

“You carry a cane.”

“My cane contains a rather sharp knife,” Daniel told him.
“Yours has the head of a goat.”

Harry peered closely at his cane, nose to nose with the
goat. “It isn’t a goat. It’s a bear.” He turned his perusal to Daniel. “Do you
need spectacles? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Daniel took a deep breath. And then another. “I do not need
spectacles. It is a goat.”

“Hmm,” Harry said. “I have nothing particular against goats.
Or bears. Or spectacles.”

“Can you afford all of these fripperies?” Daniel asked. He
gestured at Harry’s cane, and his expensive watch with a bright-red fob that
stood out against his cream-colored buckskins. It was like a directional arrow
to his prick, a location Daniel had been trying very hard not to go to.

“Of course,” Harry said with a laugh. “I’m very wealthy now,
you know.”

“So it wasn’t lack of funds that kept you away,” Daniel
said, glad to have caught Harry out.

“No, it wasn’t,” he admitted without shame. “It was fear. I
was given the impression by Sir Barnabas when I left that the two of you were
involved and would continue to be so. And your failure to express any feelings
toward me strengthened that impression. You were too scared to tell me how you
really felt, and I was too stupid to ask.” He shook his head. “Why should I
have returned when I believed my feelings were unrequited? My wife did not need
or desire my presence here, and I erroneously believed you did not, either.”

“It was not erroneous,” Daniel assured him, damning his
racing heart. “I did not, and do not, desire your presence here except to
rectify Christy’s situation.”

“I see.” Harry was silent for a moment as they crossed the
street. “I admit that I have failed Christy,” he said, surprising Daniel. “She
trusted me to take care of her and I did so in a most lackadaisical fashion,
with very little care for her circumstances. I let myself forget that she was
young and alone, except for my mercenary family, and I convinced myself that we
were both better off if I stayed in America. Hiding. I was hiding in America.”

“I cannot fathom why you feel the need to confess your sins
to me,” Daniel said angrily. He did not want to know Harry’s feelings, his
guilt or remorse or anything else. He did not want to know anything about him.
Memories—unpleasant and unwanted—had assailed him all night and kept him from
sleeping, despite copious amounts of brandy. “I am no longer infatuated with
you,” he declared. “I care not for your trials, tribulations or future plans.”

“I have already told you my future plans,” Harry said,
stopping with a hand on Daniel’s arm, bringing him to a halt as well. “I plan
to win you back. I will do so by any means necessary. I will not play fair, I
will not concede defeat, I will not go quietly. I will have you beneath me
again, and I will not leave this time.”

“You are under the illusion that I wish to be won,” Daniel
said, keeping his voice neutral and his face blank. Inside he was shaking with
the force of Harry’s declaration. “I do not.” He’d heard that nonsense from him
before. It was surely no more believable now than it was ten years ago. He
didn’t want Harry. Didn’t want the encumbrance of a commitment, didn’t need
Harry’s empty promises of love. He wasn’t made that way, just as he’d told
Barnabas. His temple throbbed as his heart pounded. “Barnabas has been trying
to tie me down for years. Trust me, if I were going to make that sort of
connection, it would have been with him.” He turned away and continued walking.

Harry followed Daniel into the house. He wasn’t happy about
Daniel’s repeated denials and stubborn refusal to forgive him. But at least he
hadn’t mentioned Harry leaving his house again. That was an improvement.

“Harry!” Christy exclaimed as he walked into the drawing
room. “You look splendid!”

She was sitting on the sofa next to Simon, who looked very
amused. There was another gentleman there too, sitting in the chair to her
left. He stood as Harry and Daniel entered.

“Yes, splendid,” Simon said sarcastically. He crossed his
arms and sighed.

“Don’t worry, old man,” Harry said with a laugh. “She didn’t
mean anything by it.”

“Of course I did,” she said firmly. “He looks much more like
I remember him.” She gestured up and down in his direction. “And there’s
just…so much more of him.” She frowned. “Whatever did they feed you in
America?”

Harry laughed again. “Whatever I could catch.” He looked at
the stranger standing there. “Hello. Harry Ashbury.” He held out his hand.

“Robert Manderley,” he said. He didn’t seem happy about
Harry’s arrival. The look he gave Christy confused him. He thought she was with
Simon, but this fellow seemed to fancy her too. Which one did she want?

“Constable Manderley is the one who saved me from the
kidnappers,” Christy told him. She took the constable’s hand in hers and
squeezed it. “I don’t know what might have happened to me if he hadn’t been
there.”

Manderley bowed politely. “I was glad to be of service.” He
turned to Harry. “I came by to inform Daniel on my investigation into the
incident and heard of your arrival. I waited to speak with you.”

Harry was surprised by his familiarity with Daniel and
jealousy flared. “Oh, are you two acquainted?” he asked.

Daniel gave him a knowing look. “Yes, since we were
children. We both grew up here, on this street. Robert still lives just a few
doors down.”

Harry’s relief at the innocuous nature of their relationship
must have shown. Daniel snorted in disgust and turned back to Manderley. “You
needn’t have troubled yourself. Simon mentioned he was helping you and shared
what you’d found.”

“You’ve made progress?” Harry asked, sitting down as he
brushed his coattails out of the way.

“I’m afraid not,” Manderley said with a sad expression. He
sat down on the edge of his chair, so his knee bumped Christy’s. She didn’t
move and neither did he, though he blushed. “There were no other witnesses
besides us, and I was too busy rescuing Mrs. Ashbury to catch a good look at
them or their carriage.”

He was a handsome fellow, tall and dark and brooding, but he
seemed a bit moody. He and Simon eyed one another warily, clearly recognizing
they were adversaries for Christy’s affections. Harry was rather enjoying it,
and he thought she was, too. She deserved it. She’d gotten a rotten deal with
him, that was for sure. It was only fair she have her own romances.

“Well, I daresay now that I’m here it won’t happen again,”
Harry said.

“Why?” Manderley asked with sudden interest. His gaze was
sharp and Harry realized he’d misjudged him. “Do you think the attack had
something to do with you?”

“I think they were taking advantage of a woman alone,” Harry
said, gleaning from the looks being cast his way that Manderley did not know
the whole story. “But there hasn’t been any more trouble since she’s been here
with Daniel, and as I said, I’m here now.”

“So she shan’t be alone again,” Manderley said, as if it
were a death sentence.

“Hardly,” Harry said congenially. “Why, look at her now,
surrounded by men who would gladly throw down our lives for her. Wouldn’t you,
Manderley?”

He looked taken aback. “Why, why, of course,” he said,
confusion on his face. “As would you, I’m sure.”

“And Simon and Daniel,” Harry agreed. “You see? She’s quite
safe. But I do think you ought to keep close tabs on her,” he continued. “After
all, a man of the law is not to be trifled with.”

“What the devil are you up to?” Daniel demanded.

Harry gave him the evil eye. “Nothing. Don’t be an idiot.”

Understanding dawned on Daniel’s face. “Good God,” he said.
“You can’t be serious.”

“As I said, anything she wants,” Harry told him, tugging on
his shirt cuff.

“Serious about what?” Manderley demanded. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Simon said wryly. “Harry is a funny fellow.”

Christy looked as confused as Manderley. Harry tried to
figure out which one she favored. She sat rather close to Simon, who had his
arm stretched out across the back of the sofa. But she was bumping knees with
Manderley. He suddenly remembered Kensington and his two lovers, and his
stories of others here in London who enjoyed the same sort of thing. Is that
what Christy wanted? He knew from the war that Simon was more than willing to
share a bed with another man, but he wasn’t so sure about the constable. He
looked like the virtuous kind.

“Robert, you’ll want to watch your back with Harry,” Daniel
said. “He’s not only funny, he’s tricky.”

“It’s your back I’m after,” Harry said with a grin.
“Constable Manderley is quite safe.”

At that the constable grew wide-eyed as he stared between
Daniel and Harry. Hmm, perhaps the man wasn’t as pure as he looked. Manderley
stood up. “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said with genuine regret. “I have
several cases that I’ve let languish while I pursued Mrs. Ashbury’s case. I
have a meeting in half an hour I cannot miss.”

“Really?” Christy said, equally distressed at his leaving.
“I was hoping you’d stay for supper.”

“Perhaps another time,” the constable said, bowing over her
hand and then, after a quick glance around, he kissed it lingeringly. “I shall
return tomorrow, if I may,” he said, straightening as their hands slowly
separated. Christy was gazing at him adoringly. Harry couldn’t understand it.
The fellow did nothing for him. And he and Simon couldn’t be more different.

“I’ll see you out,” Christy said. He quickly took her hand
again and helped her up and they walked out, arm in arm.

Simon was drumming his fingers on the sofa as he watched
them walk out. When they were gone he turned to Harry. “Daniel and I have been
looking into your family.”

“Egads, why,” Harry said with a shudder. “Bad blood all
around.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Daniel drawled as
he poured himself a brandy. He smiled at Harry and it was clear he’d included
him in that description.

“Yes, well, lucky this acorn fell far from the tree,” he
added.

“Hmm,” was all Daniel said as he took a drink.

“We think your cousin, in collusion with your father, may
have been responsible for murdering their business competitors,” Simon baldly
stated.

Harry sat dumbstruck for a moment. “That news might have
been delivered with a bit more sensitivity,” he said finally, his mind still
reeling. “Have you any proof?”

“You don’t think they could do it?” Daniel asked, leaning
back against a table with his legs crossed, staring at the brandy in his glass
as he swirled it around.

“On the contrary, I think they are perfectly capable of
murder,” Harry said. “Which is why I didn’t question Christy’s concerns
yesterday. Theo, especially, is a thoroughly disgusting individual. He was
raised more or less like a brother to me since his parents passed when he was
very young. He and Father are quite close.” He stood up, his heart heavy. “But
you mustn’t worry. Now that I am back, they will most likely leave her alone.
She was easy prey while I was gone. I shall deal with them, and take care of
Christy. You needn’t worry about it.”

“We shouldn’t worry about it?” Simon said incredulously.
“She has been here under our protection for weeks.”

“Since you’ve left Christy to fend for herself for ten
years,” Daniel said coldly, “knowing that she was easy prey, you’ll have to
forgive us for not believing that you are going to take care of her or the
situation.”

“I wouldn’t leave a street mongrel in your care, much less a
helpless, pregnant, abandoned wife.” Simon’s tones dripped with anger and
disgust.

Harry was taken aback, most especially by Daniel’s response.
“Do you honestly think I’ve changed so much?” he asked. His anger was rising at
the unfair attack. “Had I known about Christy’s circumstances, I would have
returned sooner. I told her I would be here months ago, but as I told you, my
arrival was delayed by a series of unfortunate events.” He crossed his arms.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said with a sinking sense of failure. If
Daniel could believe the worst of him, how was he to make him fall in love
again? “I have a great many responsibilities in America. It took me almost a
year to make arrangements and settle my affairs before leaving for England. I
have vast investments there, a hundred or more people who rely on me for their
livelihoods. They know I am trustworthy, that I would not walk out and leave
them unprotected. I wish you felt the same.” He walked toward Daniel. “And I
didn’t leave Christy to fend for herself. I provided a handsome allowance—more
than she asked for—a home, servants, and any sundry items she requested. She
never demanded my return, and in fact made it quite clear she was happy with
our arrangement. The predicament she now finds herself in can hardly be laid at
my door. But I’m here now, she’s my responsibility, I’ll handle it, and the two
of you can go to hell.”

“You have no right to be the angry one here,” Daniel spit
out. “You’re the one who left and by doing so created this mess and you know
it. Perhaps I don’t know you now, as you say. All I know is the irresponsible,
selfish boy who deserted a young bride and hid from his responsibilities in
America. A boy who was more eager for adventure than commitment, and didn’t
look back as he rode away.” He snapped his mouth shut as he realized what he’d just
said. He was breathing heavily and slammed his drink down on the table. “Good
evening.” He stalked toward the door.

“Now who’s running away,” Harry called out angrily. “Not I.
I am not afraid to face my mistakes.”

“I have no desire to relive the past,” Daniel said without
turning around. “I refuse.” The door slammed shut behind him.

Harry turned to see Simon standing there regarding him
through narrowed eyes, his arms crossed. “Do you always leave unhappiness and
destruction wherever you tread?” he asked quietly. “Have you a wife or lover in
America that you left behind?”

The question surprised him. “No,” he answered honestly. “I
don’t. My affairs were very few while I was gone. I did not have the heart for
them. I left it here.”

Simon watched him for a minute or so as if trying to judge
his truthfulness. Finally he sighed and walked toward the door as well. “If
that’s the case, it’s going to be rather difficult to find it again,” he said.
“You didn’t bother to inform anyone it was left behind.” He looked over his
shoulder at the door. “You might want to do that.”

“I’m trying,” Harry said through clenched teeth. He didn’t
need advice from Simon.

“Try harder.” Simon’s departure was also punctuated by a
slamming door.