Never a Road Without a Turning (25 page)

Pip watched him sleep for a time, while echoes of all that remained unresolved between them floated about in his head. But, eventually, the warmth and comfort of Ash’s body next to his and the quiet rhythm of Ash’s breaths drew him into slumber’s waiting arms as well.

Pip was not a religious man, not by a long stretch, but a prayer was on his lips as darkness swept him under.

Please, Lord, this is all I want. It isn’t so much to ask, is it?

A
SH
’
S
ANXIOUS
voice woke him the following morning. “Phillip, you fell asleep. It’s morning. You must go before anyone sees you.”

They were nestled together in a warm cocoon of blankets. The bed curtains were drawn so only a tiny shaft of light pierced the gap on either side of them, making it feel as though they were suspended in some ethereal twilight where no one could encroach. Ash’s body remained splayed across Pip’s chest—where it had migrated sometime in the night—and he didn’t appear in any great hurry to move, despite the urgency of his tone.

As soon as he was fully awake, Pip felt a familiar ache in his loins. He stretched and wrapped his arms and legs around Ash, gaining some much-needed friction against his cock as it nestled into Ash’s hip before he grinned up at the man.

“Phillip.” Ash’s voice was strained, and Pip could feel an answering hardness against his belly.

It took some thorough convincing, but eventually Ash forgot his fears and succumbed to Pip’s ministrations. Pip began with Ash’s mouth, kissing and nibbling away any protests before they could form. And he didn’t release those lips until he was sure Ash was incapable of speech, owing to the fact that Pip’s his hands were doing so many naughty things everywhere else.

As Ash gasped and panted in his ear, Pip wrapped his fist around both of their cocks and stroked them together while the fingers of his other hand toyed with Ash’s back entrance, and he sucked marks onto the man’s neck. Ash shuddered in his arms, thrusting into Pip’s grasp and clutching at Pip’s body hard enough to leave bruises. Pip was drowning in Ash, the feel of his skin, the smell of him, the sounds he made. Ash’s sweat mingled with Pip’s and his breath ghosted through Pip’s curls as they both strained against one another, desperate for release but at the same time never wanting it to end.

Ash spilled first, the proof of that hot and wet between them. With Ash’s muffled cries caressing his ears, Pip succumbed soon after, mingling their seed. He bit down on Ash’s shoulder as the final throes washed over him and then he collapsed back onto the mattress, happy and replete.

By the time Pip regained his breath and was able to open his eyes again, Ash’s usual solemnity was back, and he was studying Pip with a grave expression, concern deeply knitting his brow. All Pip could do was grin happily in response. His world was finally set to rights again.

Ash opened his mouth to speak, but a sound from the hall had the man paling before Pip’s eyes. A moment later, a knock came at the door. When Ash appeared incapable of answering, Pip called out, “Come,” and Maud came bustling into the room. He knew it was Maud because none of the other servants, except for Stubbs, were allowed upstairs when any of the rooms were occupied. As she bustled about, he heard a small thud as if she set something down, the clank of iron when she stirred the coals in the grate and added more, and then the huff of the bellows.

Ash lay frozen in Pip’s arms, a look of horror on his face, and Pip tried to draw him nearer to soothe him, but the man would have none of it. His arms remained rigid between them, and he looked at Pip as if he’d lost his senses. The sound of Maud dusting her hands drew their attention back to her, and a moment later she cleared her throat.

“Beggin’ yer pardon,
sirs
, but the masters wondered if ye were well enough to join ’em at breakfast.” The extra inflection on sirs was not lost on Pip. She was teasing him for lying abed when he should have been out working hours since. But he wasn’t overly concerned. He knew even without seeing her face that he would be forgiven. He could hear the smile in her voice. She was happy for him.

Unfortunately, Ash did not know her so well, and he looked positively ill. He was gaping like a fish, his pale eyes wide with panic, and Pip sniggered despite himself.

“Thank you, Maud. Tell the masters we would be delighted,” Pip answered in his best imitation of Ash.

Maud chuckled and swept out of the room. When Ash continued to stare incredulously at him, Pip swooped in to steal another kiss from his parted lips, but a hand clamped across his mouth stopped him.

“What just happened here?” Ash demanded.

Pip shrugged and teased his tongue over Ash’s palm until the man released him. “I told ye to trust me.”

“I trusted you to leave before we were discovered, not this. And now you laugh as if this were all a joke. You do realize what could happen to us?”

Pip’s grin faded and he smoothed the backs of his fingers over Ash’s cheek to soothe him. “Ye don’t need to fear any o’ that from Maud. Ye ’ave me word. We’re safe ’ere.”

Outrage was slowly replaced by confusion on Ash’s face as the man relaxed his cheek into Pip’s palm. “You’re certain of that? Enough to risk your life on it?”

“Aye. While ye’r ’ere, ye don’t need to kick me outta yer bed, unless that’s what ye really want.” Pip said the words teasingly, but a hint of the real hurt behind them must have come through, because Ash’s expression softened, and he reached to cup Pip’s face as well.

“I only ever sent you away to protect you, Phillip. If we were caught, my brother would have ensured my safety. I might have been sent away in disgrace, but you… you would have more than likely faced the gallows. I couldn’t have allowed that to happen, no matter how much I wanted you. Do you think I
wanted
to sleep alone?”

Pip closed his eyes against a surge of emotion. “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I thought….” His words trailed off, choked by the stone lodged in his throat.

A moment later, he felt Ash press their foreheads together, and the man sighed and whispered, “It isn’t easy for me to share my feelings, Phillip. I have only ever tried twice before in my life, and both times I came to regret opening my heart. I assumed the worst of you because that was what experience had taught me. I don’t know if I truly believed those things or if I only chose to believe them because it made it easier to keep distance between us. The last time nearly killed me, and despite my resolve to end what life I had left at the cottage, I was afraid… for both of us. I still am.”

Pip was tired of secrets and half-truths. Carruthers was right. They needed to speak plainly. If they could not be honest and open with one another, even in the privacy of their own bed, they would have no chance of surviving the challenges they would face. Of course, that meant that Pip would have to be honest as well, but he thought perhaps he could manage it… soon.

He drew in a shaky breath and then another before asking baldly, “What happened to you, Ash?”

“You want my tale of woe, Phillip? Are you certain?” Ash chuckled as he said it, but the sound had a bitter edge.

“Aye.”

Ash tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Pip’s lips. “I will tell you, if you really want to know, but not now. Your masters are awaiting us, and as I am a guest in their home. I would not be late. Provided we aren’t dragged in front of the magistrate, we can talk after breakfast.”

Pip tried to ignore Ash’s air of command in favor of the practicality of his words. Ash was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. It might be a long time before Pip broke him of that habit when they were alone together, but he thought the effort would be worth it in the end. And the road there could be a lark, if Pip chose to make it so.

When Ash drew away from him and sat up, pushing the curtains aside with determination, Pip remained as he was, his shirt pushed up revealing all from his belly to his feet. His spent cock lay against his thigh, now showing signs of renewed life, and he raised an eyebrow at Ash as his grin turned wicked. Unfortunately Ash’s own shirt fell as he sat up, shielding his gorgeous arse from Pip’s gaze. But the look the man gave him when he realized Pip hadn’t moved was worth the disappointment. Ash’s eyes, at first impatient and scolding, lit from within as they roved over Pip’s body. Whatever words of censure were poised on the man’s tongue got lost in the rumbling groan that issued from the back of his throat.

“You will be the death of me yet. Please get dressed, Phillip, before I forget good manners entirely,” Ash pleaded as he deliberately turned his head away again and reached for his false leg.

Better pleased with Ash’s words this time, Pip grinned to himself and clambered to his feet. He picked up the clothes he’d strewn across the floor and dressed quickly. He needed a wash, but that would have to wait until he could change.

When he was mostly clothed, Pip moved to Ash’s side. “I need to go back to me rooms afore I go to breakfast. Do ye need aught afore I go? A hand with yer washin’ per’aps?”

Ash’s initial polite refusal died on his tongue as Pip waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the man threw a pillow at him. “Be off with you,” he said, chuckling.

Pip dodged the projectile effortlessly and swooped in for another kiss before beating a hasty retreat. He took the stairs two at a time and hurried to his room before anyone else could see him in dishabille, grinning like a fool. He could hear Maud in the kitchen as he stepped into his room, and he sighed happily when he spotted the steaming kettle wrapped in cloth waiting for him on his dresser. The woman was a saint.

Pip quickly stripped down and washed while the water was still warm. Instead of putting on his best wool waistcoat, Pip dug into the chest at the foot of his bed for the silk one Ash had given him. It looked a little silly under Pip’s rough wool jacket, but he wanted to wear the waistcoat and the jacket was all he had. Master Carey had enough blunt to keep his rooms warm, even in the dead of winter, but it wasn’t warm enough in the house to go about in his shirtsleeves alone.

Pip shaved the stubble from his chin and ran a comb through his hair in front of the small oval looking glass mounted above his dresser. His color was high despite the twisting in his belly. He didn’t think the masters would be unkind, but he didn’t exactly know what they wanted either. Things were still so unsettled between him and Ash, he would rather have had more time to talk alone before they were forced to face anyone else. He only hoped Master Carey would be gentle.

As it turned out, Pip need not have been worried about Ash. Major Astley McNulty, despite being thrown off-balance by the peculiarity of their situation and unfamiliar surroundings, handled himself with all the dignity of a man of his station. He did not cower under Mr. Carey’s intimidating gaze. His back was ramrod straight, his shoulders broad, and his head held high as they all sat down to breakfast.

Pip picked at his food and fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat as the gentlemen exchanged polite nonsense about Ash’s journey, his health, the weather… and Pip stopped listening until silence finally descended, and he looked up to find all eyes at the table on him.

“What?”

Mr. Carey snorted into his napkin as Carruthers rolled his eyes and said, “I said, why don’t we retire to the library where we might continue the conversation in comfort. If you intend to actually participate in the discussion, that is.”

“Oh, right,” Pip replied stupidly. He could feel his cheeks heat even as Ash’s lips quirked the tiniest bit at one corner.

“Would you show the major the way?” Carruthers requested, with exaggerated patience.

Pip stood up quickly, grateful to have something to do other than sit and listen to nothings, and Ash followed him after murmuring his compliments for the meal.

Ash’s limping gait was stiff when he entered the library, and Pip felt a stab of concern. “Are ye all right?”

Ash glanced toward the door, but when the masters didn’t immediately follow, he replied quietly, “I’m simply trying to understand what is happening here. You told me what Mr. Carey has done for you. And for that I am willing to excuse much from the man. But I have no idea what I am to expect from this interview, for that is what it appears to be. I am assuming we are not simply engaging in a social call. What do they know, Phillip? Who are these men to you, really?”

Pip tried to smile reassuringly. He would have gone to Ash and offered more, but he could hear the two masters approaching, and there wasn’t time, without embarrassing Ash and shaking their already fragile connection. Instead of doing or saying the things he truly wished to, Pip settled for a few words that would convey a world of meaning.

He hoped.

“Better to ask what they are to each other instead.”

Ash’s eyebrows shot up a moment before Carey and Carruthers entered the room. The surprise was erased from his features when he turned to them, his mask of polite indifference returned, but Pip could almost see the speculation and wary understanding as it dawned.