The Englor Affair (16 page)

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The Englor Affair

covering the windows and sectioning off the rooms were gold velvet. It was packed, loud and smoky, like every gaming hell Simon had ever been in.

“I say, Si, are you going to introduce your friend?” Wycliffe strolled up with a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other, eyeballing Payton suspiciously. He was turned out much like Simon, all in black except for his white shirt and cravat.

“Wycliffe, may I present Payton Jeffers. Payton, this is my dearest friend, Ansley Eason, The Earl of Wycliffe.”

Payton’s eyes widened slightly then he bowed like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, milord.”

Wycliffe tipped his head to Payton, still looking him over. “A pleasure to meet you as well, Payton. Tell me, where did Si find you?” Wycliffe always had been a suspicious bastard, but it was on the tip of Si’s tongue to tell his friend to lay off, when Roc strolled up to them grinning ear to ear.

Roc joined them in looking Payton up and down before smiling and elbowing Wycliffe aside. He darted a glance around and leaned in to whisper, “It suddenly becomes clear why he’s ditched us the last couple of nights.”

Simon groaned. “Payton, this jackanapes is Roc.”

“Proctor Bennett.” Roc stuck out his hand.

Looking at it for a few moments, Payton grabbed it and shook, but not before Simon saw the slight furrow of his brow. “Payton—Jeffers.”

“Where did Si meet you?” Roc asked, in no hurry to release Payton’s hand.

“On base, Payton is an IN lieutenant.” Simon flicked a glance at Roc and Payton’s hands.

Roc blanched and dropped Payton’s hand like a hot potato.

Giving Roc a pointed stare, Simon let his friend know that Payton was off limits.

Perhaps he should have staked his claim when he’d agreed to meet his friends here. He hadn’t even told them what he’d learned about Benson, wanting to talk it over with Aldred first.

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“You’re no fun a’tal, Si,” Roc hissed quietly as a group of people jostled their way past them.

Squinting against the glare of Roc’s bright red waistcoat, Si ignored the taunt.

“Wherever did you get that waistcoat?” The rest of Roc’s ensemble consisted of a classy black evening coat and a white cravat tied in a much simpler knot than Simon’s, Payton’s or Wycliffe’s, but that scarlet was blinding.

“Do you like it?” Roc actually preened, before snagging a drink off the tray of a passing footman. He took a sip then made a face. “Brandy.”

“I tried to talk him out of it.” Wycliffe extracted the brandy from Roc’s hand, took a drink and turned away from them. “Come. I’ve secured a private room. Delany and Sexton are joining us.”

Simon watched Wycliffe stride off like he owned the place and shook his head. That sounded about right. Likely that was why Roc bought the waistcoat in the first place, because Wycliffe objected to it. The two of them took great delight in annoying the other, and Simon too for that matter. “Are you ready, Payton? Pay?”

Payton had maneuvered himself slightly behind Simon and was peeking around him at something toward the back corner. His face was pale and his eyes wide. Simon frowned and looked in the direction Payton was staring. There was only a group of young lords playing cards. It looked like Lord Jared Hawkins, Lord Timothy Gratham and…

Oh.
There was a flamboyant demi rep with a low-cut dress perched on Lord George Seaton’s lap. She was laughing at something Lord Jared said. It was rather obvious what she was by her bold-colored clinging dress and makeup on her face. That must be what Payton was so stunned about. It was endearing. Once again he was reminded of Payton’s lack of experience and it went right to his cock.

He touched Payton’s elbow, bringing him forward. “Are you coming?”

“Oh.” Payton flinched then looked up at him. “Yes. Sorry, I was just looking around.

Where are we going?”

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“Wycliffe reserved a table.” Simon started them moving. He stopped a footman a few feet from them. “Bring cigars and a bottle of scotch to Lord Wycliffe’s table.” He glanced at Payton. “Scotch okay with you?”

“Sure.” Payton didn’t seem certain. He kept peering over at the prostitute, while trying to conceal his interest by keeping Si in the line of sight. He appeared shocked.

Simon wondered briefly if he were going to run off like he did the first few times they’d messed around.

The footman bobbed his head and bowed. “Yes, Your Highness, right away.”

Payton seemed to relax once the demi rep was out of sight, but he kept glancing back.

As they walked Simon reached out to grab Payton’s arm and escort him, then realized what he almost did and jerked his arm back. He too looked around, hoping no one noticed. “Tell me more about Regelence.”

“What would you like to know?” Payton hurried toward the room where Wycliffe and Roc went, walking ahead of Simon.

Simon’s gaze landed on Payton’s arse before he even thought about it. He lifted his head. Tonight was going to test his self-restraint. Galaxy help him should anyone see him groping Payton in public.

Payton was certain Nate’s brother hadn’t seen him when they’d arrived, but Payton had yet to let his guard down. Every time that curtain moved, it drew Payton’s undivided attention. He’d been so careful sneaking off base, making sure to tell Nate he was turning in early and leaving the dog tag in his room. If Jared saw him… Payton took another sip of his drink and looked down at his cards.

“Tell me, Payton, where are you from?”

Payton fought the urge to squirm under Viscount Delany’s steely gaze and set his cards on the table. Delany didn’t smile much and Payton couldn’t decide if Delany disliked him or if he was just a serious gambler. “I’m from Regelence.”

Delany’s lip turned up in a snarl, and he tossed his cards onto the table.

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Aware he was on foreign soil, Payton met Delany’s stare. His throat tightened and his stomach clenched, but he refused to let his nervousness show. Would his admittance mean trouble? It didn’t matter. Spurning his planet wasn’t in him. If admitting his patriotism meant a fight, so be it.

“Oh?” Arching an arrogant ebony eyebrow, Wycliffe glanced at Si.

“Regelence? Isn’t that the sodomite planet?” Sexton asked, his gaze boring into Payton.

Roc choked on his scotch.

Pounding on Roc’s back, Simon addressed Sexton. “I suggest you mind your tone, Sexton. I’ll remind you that Payton is an IN officer and my guest.”

Sexton pushed back from his chair so hard it clambered to the floor. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness. If you gentlemen”—he sneered at Payton—“will excuse me, I’ve remembered something I have to attend to.” He strode to the curtain, knocking it aside so hard Payton expected it to come tumbling down into a heap on the floor.

Roc finally stopped coughing and took another drink. Red in the face, he cleared his throat and mumbled “Thank you” to Simon.

Wycliffe raised his attention from his cards, darting a glance toward the door. “Good riddance.” He grinned at Payton. “I hear Regelence is a lovely planet, much like our own.”

Payton nodded, deciding immediately he liked Wycliffe. “It is—”

“Excuse me, gentlemen. I just remembered Sexton is my ride home.” Delany dipped his head in a pretense of politeness and left so quickly he nearly ran over a footman coming back in the room with a fresh decanter of scotch.

Dust
. Was this going to cause Simon problems? Was Si mad? Suddenly, Payton missed Regelence, his chaperones and all the restrictions of being a prince.

“Hmm, I never figured Sexton for a bigot.” Si stared at the curtain, a look of complete shock on his face. Shaking his head, he turned back to his cards and shrugged.

“Fuck ’em.”

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Maybe being sheltered wasn’t so bad after all. Payton’s chest hurt. He didn’t like feeling…different? He’d never thought of himself as
different
, but here he was.

“You didn’t tell us Payton was from Regelence.” Wycliffe laid his hand on the table, took a swig of his drink and stared at Si expectantly.

“No, you didn’t,” Roc added.

Did they know about Simon’s investigation? Or was it the liking-men thing? No, they knew about Si, Payton was positive. They’d just defended Payton and Roc’s remark when they first arrived…

“Payton has given me some important information we’ve been after, perhaps we can all discuss it later.” Simon smiled at Payton.

“Ah.” Wycliffe nodded and picked up his cards again. “Your turn, Roc. Relax, Payton. You’re among friends.”

Then it was the investigation they were curious about. Payton inhaled, finally feeling like he could get air.

Roc played his hand and took a drink from his tumbler. “Si, have you—?”

The rest of Roc’s question was lost on Payton. The heavy gold velvet curtain blocking their private room from the rest of the gaming hell opened, and Payton’s gaze flew toward it expecting Jared Hawkins to walk in, or worse Sexton and Delany returning. It was only a footman. Payton turned his attention back to the table without really listening.

“I’m still looking into it,” Si said.

Payton blinked and looked down at his cards again, hoping someone would say something to give him a clue what they were conversing about. He tried not to be nervous but Delany and Sexton’s abrupt departure had him way off kilter. What had Roc asked?

Please don’t let anyone ask my opinion.

“I’m out.” Si tossed his cards down and picked up his drink. “I’ve got a meeting with General Davidson next week. If anyone knows about the proposed merger, he will.”

Ah, the IN and Englor Marine merger.
Sipping his own drink, Payton glanced toward the curtain again. The gaming hell wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Men played www.samhainpublishing.com 113

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Hazard, Whist, Faro and Poker—like Payton, Si, Wycliffe and Roc—with an occasional game of blackjack. There were one or two roulette tables as well. All in all, it was a little disappointing. Unless one considered the gambling, and Payton didn’t see why that would count. The gym locker room was much more risqué. For the life of him he couldn’t understand why unmarried men were not allowed to go on his planet. Was it different at home? Maybe they
did
have wild orgies in Regelence gaming hells. At least at home no one would act as if Payton were some oddity.

“Payton, tell us more about the cloning technology on Regelence. Are all children on Regelence created in such a way?” Wycliffe asked without looking up from the cards in his hands. He set another chip in the middle of the table.

Payton frowned at his cards. Was Wycliffe merely curious or was he going to insult Payton as well? Tossing his cards down, he slid an ante chip over it and went out this hand. He’d give Wycliffe the benefit of the doubt. He’d said Payton was among friends.

“I’m out. It’s not cloning. It’s just a basic artificial reproduction process.”

Wycliffe tossed another chip out, raising Roc. “But aren’t all Regelens alike?”

“No, of course not.”

“But all the infants are male, aren’t they, with other similar traits?” Wycliffe glanced up, meeting Payton’s gaze. “Call, Roc.”

He meant the preference for men. “Well yes, most are male unless specifically requested otherwise and have a preference for their own sex. But Regelence does not allow designer babies and pretty much only the gentry use the process. A little over half of the children on Regelence are created the old-fashioned w—”

“Si? Darling? Are you in here?” A tall willowy woman in a green dress and a green and gold feather demi mask swept through the curtain into their room.

Everyone jumped to their feet.

Breathe, Pay, it’s just some lady.
Payton stood as well. Who was this woman? Good Galaxy, the start she gave him had his heart racing.

“Oh sit. Sit. I heard you were in here and had to come say hello.” She walked over to Si, kissed his cheek and grabbed his hand.

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Si kissed her back, a huge smile on his face, before taking both her hands in his and looking her over from her perfectly coifed black hair to the dainty gold slippers peeking out from under her elegant evening gown. “Dru, sweetheart, you look beautiful as always. But if you are going to wear a mask, the point is not to let everyone know it’s you.”

Dru waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, Si, you know people will know it’s me whether my face is covered or not, so why shouldn’t I speak to my friends?”

Wycliffe took the hand Dru was waving, bowed over it and kissed it. When he let go he shook his head and offered her a smirk. “Your Grace, you scandalize me, you truly do.”

“Oh please, Wycliffe. Nothing I do can compare to yours and Roc’s antics. Where is—?” She turned and spotted Roc. Her face lit up under the green mask. “Tell Wycliffe I’m not scandalous, will you, Roc?”

Roc chuckled, before focusing his attention on Wycliffe. “Her Grace is not scandalous.” He leaned forward and put his hand to his mouth like he was whispering, but his voice stayed the same. “Besides, she’s the top of the food chain, she can get away with being scandalous.”

“Dru, sit, join us.” Si pushed the empty chair out so Dru could sit.

The three men took their seats.

Payton stood there for a second stunned. Who was this whirlwind and why hadn’t they introduced him to her?

Si looked up at him and the laughter vanished. “Oh. Oh, Pay, I’m sorry.” He stood and gestured toward Payton. “Dru, this is Lieutenant Payton Jeffers. Payton, this is Her Grace the Duchess of Kentwood.”

The duchess stood and offered her hand and a big smile to Payton. “A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant.” She put her other hand beside her mouth much as Roc had and whispered rather loudly, “But I’m not Her Grace the Duchess of Kentwood.” Her gaze darted around. “Because my mother would be scandalized. A duchess would never go to a gaming hell.”