The Debt

CHAPTER THREE

Having done no more than open my breeches, I pulled from Stephen’s clinging heat and tucked my subsiding erection back inside and buttoned up. Michael dressed quietly and took his leave. Stephen did not move from where he’d collapsed. I walked to my antechamber to retrieve two dressing gowns. When I emerged, Stephen sat upon the bed’s edge.

Handing him the robe, I said, “Wrap that around you. We’ll dine before we do aught else.” I noticed his look of surprise. Hiking an inquiring brow at him, I queried, “You expected inhumane treatment? Privation?” A bit cross, I added, “It can be arranged.”

He stood, wrapping the garment around his body and belting it. “Your staff unloaded my luggage from the carriage.”

I stopped him. “It went into storage at my request. You will have nothing save what I provide. Clear?”

“Aye.”

I strode to the bell pull and tugged. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I arranged for a variety served at once rather than in courses.” Shrugging into the dressing gown, I left it unbelted. A footman opened the door to my rooms and two more carried in the long table. Another pair of footmen toted a chair each. Behind them trailed a veritable parade of kitchen staff. When they’d laid the meal, I indicated the chair at the end opposite where I sat.

Clearly uncertain about his circumstances, Stephen complied. Throughout the meal, he watched me.

Finally, I asked, “Did you worry about hurting Michael?”

Stephen flushed and attempted to hide it behind a wine goblet. Setting it down, he said gruffly, “It seemed he enjoyed it.”

I slapped my glass from the table to shatter and splash upon the floor. “Do not vex me with such tactics. As slave to me, three rules apply. Do not question. Do not disobey. Do not lie.” I leaned back in my chair, appetite killed by anger. “I ask again, did you worry about hurting him?”

My slave’s throat worked and muscles rippled along his jaw. “I did not.”

Leaning forward, I snarled, “We are not so dissimilar. Do me the courtesy of never again seeking to sidestep me.” I clapped my hands and staff hurried to clear the meal. “I require a bath before bed.”

My temper had cooled at such time as the large copper tub waited. Two maids stood with rinse buckets at ready. As I stripped and stepped in, I watched Stephen stand quietly aside.

His eyes met mine, and very softly, he inquired, “What am I to do?”

“Get your fine arse in here. My bed’s been changed and I’ve no wish to foul it with a dirty body.”

He glanced to the maids, shed his dressing gown, and stepped into the tub at the opposite end. “I did not think to share your bed.” He hesitated, then corrected, “In sleep.”

“What presumption.” I leaned forward. His head lowered in a manner that told me he anticipated a blow. Never had I struck a sexual acquaintance of any sort. The fear of my displeasure had always proven adequate discipline. This subject learned quickly. Now, amusement lifted my mood. “As it happens, I did mean for you to seek repose with me. I fancy the idea of having you close do I decide to have you suck my cock again.”

He did not react. Clever boy.

I motioned to the maids. Knowing their role, they set down the rinse water and bathed us. I watched him, noting his discomfort in such a simple matter.

After we stood rinsed, dried and scented, I dismissed the last of the staff and crawled into bed. Stephen slowly joined me, clinging to the bed’s edge.

I woke in the night lying half atop my pet, my front to his back. With no witnesses save my own, knowing self, I pressed my lips to his shoulder and returned to the realm of Hypnos.


“Beau, will you wait for me?”

I sat up in the bed, shaking, hearing his voice echo in my skull. Hand shaking, I swiped it over my face. Not in a decade had I dreamed of him. My heart would not seem to quiet. I could almost taste his mouth, smell his hair. Scrambling from bed, I placed some distance between myself and the place of visitation.

Only in the darkest watches could I hide and lick my wounds. Retreating to my dressing chamber in the dark, I fumbled into the solitary chair. As if I had traveled time in reverse, I smelled summer flowers. Letting my head drop back to rest upon the chair, I allowed my waking mind to follow that of my dreams to recall.

My father had sent me to stay with a cousin inhabiting a hunting box in the Scottish Lowlands. Not so much for game sport as political reasons. The nobleman had a younger son that wanted purpose to justify his existence in the way of the titled. I suppose we two were supposed to ally for the future further and gain of our houses.

Him.

I clenched my eyes and jaw.

Alistair. A towering Adonis of Scottish red-gold hair, brute muscle, sweet temper and loving.

I sneered in the blackness.

“Fuck you, you Scot git. You fed the worms long ago.”

I kept to my side of the bed. Before dawn, I rose, bid my mare saddled. She harbored more fire and spirit than any stallion I had ever encountered. Named for the daughter of Helios, Circe was a mount worthy a king.

Dressing for a long ride, I left my rooms and strode to the east hall. Two grooms held her. Tall, powerful and muscular, she tossed her head and abundant mane. Deep in her throat she made a whuhwhuhwhuh noise of welcome. I pressed my forehead to the bridge of hers. The scent of clean horse and brisk morning cleared my thoughts.

Swinging astride, I lengthened my leathers and placed the balls of my feet in the irons. Leaning low, I gripped the groom at his collar. “Why is my saddle off?”

“My lord, I know not.”

I believed the terror in his eyes. Wheeling her around, we took the brick garden wall and galloped over the near field. I loved the feel of her power beneath me. A being too large for the use of force. A noble creature that responded to partnership. She and I suffered no subterfuge. We enjoyed the speed and danger.

Caring for Circe myself after our run, I mucked out her stall, groomed her and then tended my tack. In the back of my mind, I considered the shortened stirrups.

I entered my chambers to see Stephen seated on the bed’s edge.

I am not a nice man.

What a dutiful slave.