Chapter Four

March 15, 1840

The Sol Invictus Mithras always met during the ides of March in the guise of an annual social gathering at Winslow Octavio Paternoster's manse. Though outsiders were invited to mingle, the members of the group always met in secret during the event to exchange information and plan the upcoming spring season's activities. It was an ideal time to hold a meeting, just before the mainstream spring social events began.

Daniel felt very fortunate to be attending the event. Henry had said that he was going to work, so Daniel was free to dress in his finest and take a cab to the mansion. He was a little anxious about returning to the site of his captivity, but calmed his nerves with laudanum. Henry only allowed him small quantities of the stuff, but Daniel had a secret stash for himself.

When he arrived, Daniel was too overwhelmed to be fearful. There were guests of all kinds gathered at the mansion, including nobility and people he recognized from the social magazines. The men were groomed to perfection, and the women flounced about in ethereal gowns, their hair glossed and curled around their fair faces. A pleasant murmur rose from the guests as they glided into the mansion. Daniel introduced himself to several interested parties and was swept up in a variety of conversations. He wandered the mansion in wonder, from the ballroom to the drawing room, and then to the parlor where some young men were playing cards. For the first time in his life, he did not feel like an outsider. The thought gave him much pleasure.

It was an exceptionally mild day for the time of year, so the ballroom doors were open onto the back gardens. While taking the air, Daniel was accosted by one of his coworkers from the museum and a woman he introduced as his sister. Daniel was in the habit of comparing all women to his own sister, Hazel, and found this lady to be her polar opposite. She was robust of spirit and figure, and her dark hair winningly showed off her porcelain skin. The interest she eyed Daniel with made him vaguely uncomfortable. The man, one Mr. Barlow, introduced her as his sister Rosalind. While shaking hands, Daniel pressed his thumb and forefinger to the other man's palm, which signified he was a member of the Sol Invictus Mithras.

"Why, I had no idea you were a member of the group," Mr. Barlow said in a low voice. "My sister and I both belong to it."

"I have never seen you here before," Rosalind said. "I should have remembered such a gentleman."

"I was only just accepted into it," Daniel explained.

"How do you like it?" Mr. Barlow asked. "This is one of our more mundane gatherings, of course, but it's still an event, isn't it?"

"Mundane? All this?"

"You really are new," laughed Mr. Barlow. "This is nothing, only a staff meeting in disguise, so to speak. The rituals are the pinnacle of excitement!"

"Rituals?" Daniel echoed faintly, thinking of Brennenburg.

"Certain subgroups are obsessed with the occult," Mr. Barlow explained. "If you have the nerve for it, perhaps we'll bring you into our little subset in future. It would be—Ho! Is that Jameson Beechworth? Excuse me, Daniel. My sister can tell you all about our wicked little ways. Ha ha!"

Mr. Barlow made his way back into the ballroom to speak with Beechworth. Daniel was left to take the lady's arm. They walked through the garden, the smell of grass blending appealingly with her perfume. Daniel did not socialize with women very often, and he had never been alone with such a beautiful feminine specimen. He felt intimidated for reasons he could not quite understand.

"You mustn't take my brother seriously, he's quite the buffoon sometimes," Rosalind said. "Our interest in the occult is purely academic, despite his love of the high drama of ritual. Our subset is fairly harmless, the only danger in it is the information we pass along."

"What do you mean by 'subset'?" Daniel asked. "Are there many different smaller groups in the Sol Invictus Mithras?"

"Oh my, yes," Rosalind said. "The group on the whole is quite nebulous, which is part of how it is able to reach so far into all strata of society. So long as the members keep the secrecy and ideology of it, they are welcome to all the benefits. Certain members naturally gravitate towards those of like mind in the smaller matters: for example, one subset is dedicated to the medical field, and another to musicians. All are generally congenial to one another, barring the occasional conflict which are mostly from the political subsets."

"There are politicians in the group?"

"Many of the top leaders of this country are or have been a part of the Sol Invictus Mithras," Rosalind said. "Mr. Paternoster wields tremendous influence in this country."

"I see," Daniel said thoughtfully. "Do the subsets overlap? Your brother is involved with the occult, but he is also an archaeologist."

"Indeed. The overlapping of different groups is one of the most important practices," Rosalind said. "There is a principle that all the group's knowledge must be shared among members freely. This has led to some squabbles over patents and such, but on the whole it is very convenient. Many breakthroughs have come from different scholars of different fields sharing information and working together."

"Are there rules among the subgroups?"

"My, you're a curious one," Rosalind smiled maternally. "It depends on the subgroup. Some subsets are rigorous about membership, others let members go and come at will. The circle my brother and I are a part of are dedicated to the academic study of the occult, and we're always glad to share information with anyone. It is all relative, as is natural for such a massive organization as the Sol Invictus Mithras. There are wheels within wheels within spheres inside of spheres. I don't know how Mr. Paternoster manages it all."

"It's very impressive."

"Isn't it just?" Rosalind's expression grew sly. "Of course, not all the spheres in the group are devoted to academia."

"Yes, I was told there are artists, actors, creators of all kinds."

"Oh, but it isn't all about work, either, Daniel," Rosalind said. "Exploration of the mind is well and good, but the exploration of the body is equally important."

"Yes, physicians are quite important."

"Oh dear," Rosalind laughed, shaking her head. "No, Daniel, I was speaking of the pleasures of the body. There are quite a few circles devoted to that."

"O-oh. Yes. Well." Daniel cleared his throat. "Right, Henry did say something about that."

"Henry?"

"Oh, my friend, Henry Bedloe."

Rosalind's eyes widened, and then a knowing look overtook her face. Her smile was resigned this time.

"I see," she said.

"Don't misunderstand—"

"It's quite all right, Daniel," Rosalind said, patting his arm. "You'll find most of the members of the group to be quite open-minded, or tolerant in the very least. So many secrets are shared amongst us that no one dares betray another for fear of their own secret lives coming to light. It is a very convenient arrangement."

"Is Henry really so well known?" Daniel had to ask. "Everyone I've met so far seems to know him by reputation."

"He's never told you?" Rosalind asked in shock. "Oh dear. It … really is not my place."

"Please, tell me, why is he so dam—so very notable?"

"Henry joined the Sol Invictus Mithras when he was just eighteen," Rosalind said. "He was quite a figure: so very tall, swarthy, with the strength and brutality of a fiend. Before his brilliance in the field of psychiatry became apparent, he garnered attention for a very different reason."

"Which was?"

"Sex, to put it indelicately," Rosalind said, relishing the word. She laughed at Daniel's shocked expression. "You'll find the women of the group to be less cowed in manner than the mundane ladies of society, Daniel. As for Henry, he was wild with freedom. He was a brutal but creative lover, and broke the hearts of many ladies and gentlemen that fell madly in love with him."

"Ladies?"

"Oh yes, he's had his share of women," Rosalind said. "My friend Celia suffered an unfortunate episode of obsession with him after they had a tryst during one of the orgies a certain subgroup is fond of holding. Though as you surely know, Henry has more of an appetite for boys. This is not the first time that I've set my eye on a lovely young man that Henry has staked a claim on first."

Hazel would rather hang than speak so frankly about such things, Daniel thought, his face red. I should be offended, but somehow it's refreshing. This woman is as easy to speak with as a man.

"Yes, your Henry was all animal in the beginning," Rosalind said. "Paternoster took him under his wing and smoothed some of his rough edges, though. Of course, his brutality being softened into mere play made him all the more popular."

Play? Daniel thought. It's hardly just play. These people are so worldly. It's a bit intimidating.

"And that is the story of Henry Bedloe, my unexpected competitor," Rosalind said. "I beg your pardon, Daniel, but the man is a glutton. Although, you know, I have supped from his table on occasion."

Daniel did not know how to respond to that. Rosalind's hand crept up his arm. She stopped walking and stood very closely to him. He focused on her amethyst teardrop-shaped earrings, trying to ignore her ample, heaving bosom.

"What do you say, Daniel?" she asked. "Have you ever been with a woman at all? I assure you, we can be just as deliciously rough as men."

"Madam, I, er, I—"

Jameson Beechworth rescued him.

"Behave, Rosalind," he told her with a grin. "The boy is spoken for."

"When has that ever deterred me?" Rosalind said lazily. "But you're right, I shouldn't be teasing the poor thing. Daniel, please, don't mind me. My appetites betray me. I think I shall go find something … to eat. It was a pleasure making your acquaintance."

"Pleasure was, er, all mine."

"I hope so."

With that, Rosalind left the men. Daniel let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Beechworth laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Quite a woman, isn't she?" he said. "I swear, I shall never marry so long as the lovely Lady Rosalind is near! You had best keep your distance, though, poor fellow. She would eat you alive, and Henry would turn your bones to powder. Come, let's go inside. Have you seen all of the mansion?"

"Ah, no, I haven't."

"Then let's give you a tour of the place. Come along, come along."

Daniel followed Beechworth in awe as he guided him through the manor. It was equipped with all the amenities of any manor on the first floor, all laid out in exquisite splendor. The gallery contained beauty so stunning it took Daniel's breath away, along with pieces so shocking or morbid that he had to pass by them quickly. The second floor consisted of the bedrooms, including a guest hall that could fit nearly everyone at the party (and was often used for orgies, Beechworth cheerfully added). The third floor surprised Daniel with its sophisticated laboratories; they put the alchemical equipment of Brennenburg to shame.

The library was the pride and joy of the manor. It was open between the first and second floor, allowing for entrance from either level. It was the mirror opposite of the ballroom, located on the other side of the mansion entirely, and just as large. Tall ladders stood like sentinels before endless rows of books set on gleaming oak shelves. There were accounts of expeditions and explorers so obscure Daniel had thought they were mythological. Beechworth practically had to drag him away, lest he spend the entire day reading.

Afternoon turned to evening, and dusk settled upon the world outside the mansion. In the back of the first floor, Daniel saw the stars coming out through a large round skylight in an atrium. The atrium was made of stone, encircled by massive marble pillars. The floor was tiled with astrological designs. There were several expensive and complicated telescopes placed throughout the room.

"It's all so … so … " Daniel floundered for words.

"Impressive?"

"Yes, but it's also … old-fashioned," Daniel said. "I mean that in a good way. It reminds me of the Renaissance, or the decadent periods of ancient Rome. All this knowledge and art in one place, shared among friends as easily as food and wine. It's splendid."

Beechworth nodded in agreement. They stood for a minute watching night fall, then Beechworth led Daniel away. They passed through the quieter halls at the back of the first floor, and Beechworth prompted Daniel inside a small chamber.

"Ah, you have an ascending room, too."

"Descending, actually."

"Just like Brennenburg," Daniel said. "I had to fix that damned thing. I wonder if this one operates similarly?"

Beechworth ignored the question. He had learned it was best to pick and choose when to answer the man, otherwise he would be explaining things all night. Daniel was as inquisitive as a small child. He pulled the lever on the elevator, and the chamber descended.

Daniel's hands began to tremble, so he shoved them into his jacket pockets. He had repaired the elevator at Brennenburg, and it had taken him into the depths of Hell. He figured the dungeon where Paternoster had locked him must be down here. It was silly to suspect he would be imprisoned again, there was no reason for it, but his nerves were rattling nonetheless.

The elevator stopped on the first of two basement levels. The walls and floor were made of stone, but it was undamaged and swept clean. Further down the hall, frescoes depicting the sorcerer-deity Mithras decorated the walls. There were many Latin inscriptions describing the deeds and creeds of Mithras. The place felt ancient, as if Daniel had stepped backwards in time to that glorious old empire. Beechworth opened a heavy set of double doors, and light flooded a room that looked like a temple.

"This is the Mithraeum," he explained. "It is where meetings and rituals take place."

"Why was my initiation not held here?" Daniel asked. "It was in the atrium."

"Your initiation was a bit different," Beechworth said. His voice echoed in the stone chamber. "Normally, we expose initiates to an Orb, but you had already had more than enough contact with those. So, Paternoster and I held a more private ceremony for you, without using an Orb."

"Oh, I see."

They left the Mithraeum to its solemn silence. Daniel desperately wanted to return to the ground level, but Beechworth insisted they explore the entirety of the basement. They took the elevator down to the second level. Though there was only a long corridor of plain iron doors, Daniel immediately recognized it as the dungeon. Being here made him ache with memories. He was just going to insist they go back to the elevator, when they came upon none other than Paternoster—and Henry.

"Well, well, look who's here," Beechworth said with false surprise. "Good evening, Mr. Paternoster. Henry."

Neither Daniel nor Henry heard him. They were staring at one another, wide-eyed, speechless. Daniel thought he might faint from dread and shock, but consciousness held him fast. He was able to see every gear shift in Henry's mind, every mark of anger overtake his face and body. Daniel tried to will himself to faint, but his body would not cooperate.

"Daniel?" Henry asked pointlessly. "Why are you here?"

"He was invited," Paternoster said pointedly. "By me."

Henry turned to Paternoster. His hands were clenched into fists and his blue eyes were pure ice. Daniel began to step backwards.

"You?" Henry breathed. "You? What is this? You've inducted him into the Sol Invictus Mithras? Without my permission?"

"You know that we do not ask the permission of anyone other than the inductees themselves," Paternoster said. "I was not obliged to inform you."

"I would expect nothing less from you," sneered Henry.

Henry turned just in time to see Daniel backing away. His hand reached out and he caught the youth by the wrist. Daniel gasped.

"But you?" Henry asked, his voice rising. "You went behind my back? After I told you that I would never allow this, you joined them? Without so much as a word to me?"

"I tried to get your permission, but you never listened to me!" Daniel said. "You wouldn't even entertain the idea! It wasn't fair!"

"So you disobeyed me like this?" Henry yelled, shaking him. "How long? How long have you been with these godless bastards?"

"F-for … For … "

"A bit more than a fortnight," Beechworth provided.

"You've been lying to me all that time?" Henry boomed down at Daniel. "Every day? Sneaking around, meeting up with these people—all this time?"

"I had to! It was the only way!"

As the surprise wore off, Henry's anger took its place. He backhanded Daniel across the face, holding him on his feet by the arm. Paternoster and Beechworth stepped aside, though they did not leave them. There was always the chance that Henry's lowest impulses could take over, and it would not do to lose a new member so soon.

Henry began to fear the same thing. Trying his best to control himself, he threw Daniel into a prison cell, and shut the door behind him. He stood very still outside the door, breathing in and out slowly. His hands shook with fury. He wanted to wrap them around Daniel's throat and be rid of the nuisance once and for all.

"You set this all up, didn't you?" he asked Paternoster, eyes shut.

"It is best that you get the confrontation over with," Paternoster said. "The group has enough in-fighting amongst the politicians, we do not need such petty lovers' quarrels."

"Petty lovers' quarrels," Henry repeated bitterly. He laughed incredulously. "Petty lovers' quarrels. Damn you to the depths of Hell, Paternoster."

Paternoster just nodded. Henry could not even think about him at the moment. Daniel's betrayal should not have been unexpected, but it shocked him as much as a slap in the face. He was disturbed by how shaken he was, which only added to his fury. He felt—helpless. He wanted to kill the man, he truly did, but he could not.

No, I cannot, he thought. My God, I … I couldn't do it. Even now, I can't imagine my life without him. So what can I do? All I can do … is punish him. Yes, that's it. I'll punish him. At least I can do that. At least I can hurt him back.

Henry opened his cool blue eyes. He went into a particular room of the dungeon, retrieved a flogger, and then went into the cell where Daniel was. He lit the torch set into the wall and shut the door behind himself. Daniel was in the back of the room, cowering on the cot.

"Henry, please, let me explain."

"There is nothing to explain," Henry said dully. "You disobeyed me, and I am going to punish you. That's all there is to it, Daniel."

"Henry, please, if you'll just listen!"

Henry stopped listening to him. If he had not, the murderous urges would have returned. He made his way over to the cot, catching Daniel before he could run away. The youth fought, but he was no match for Henry, and stopped his struggles after a few slaps on the face. He sat down and forced the young man over his knees, securing his arms against the small of his back. He could not control Daniel's actions, so much as he wanted to, but at least he could control his punishment. The power soothed his temper some, and he decided to take his time wresting control back from his errant lover.

Daniel felt horribly foolish as Henry pushed his jacket up and pulled his trousers down. He had felt so accomplished just that morning as he dressed himself in his best, and now here he was reduced to boyhood again. He had known this was coming the moment he was inducted into the Sol Invictus Mithras, but it was no less miserable. Henry's massive palm slapped his bared bottom hard and fast, quickly building up a sting.

"It was worth it!" Daniel blurted out angrily. "Do you hear me? You can't control my life, Henry! You can do whatever you want to me now, but I'll still be a member of the group, and it will have been worth it!"

Henry ignored him. He forced himself to focus on the young man's bottom, which was reddening rapidly. Daniel kicked violently, so he laid one leg over Daniel's legs, trapping them. With the man entirely at his mercy, he steadily laid the hefty blows upon his trembling flesh. The physical pleasure he derived from it was mild: he was wholly intent on punishing Daniel. He was too furious to even be aroused.

Daniel gave up his pleas and explanations, knowing they were falling upon deaf ears. He gritted his teeth and resolved to take the punishment without giving Henry the satisfaction of crying out. It grew difficult as the spanking wore on. When is he going to stop? Daniel wondered, his eyes hot with tears. He squirmed helplessly, his buttocks burning painfully. He does have to stop eventually, doesn't he?

But Henry did not stop. When he did, it was only for a brief second, before he snapped the flogger across Daniel's bottom. Daniel had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. His resolve did not last long. The knots at the ends of the flogger's tails bit cruel bruises into his buttocks and thighs, overlaying the spanking's blazing sting. Every crack brought a fresh streak of pain, until his ears were ringing with the sound. Henry did not pause to rub his bottom or pat his head, not even to scold him, as he usually did. There were only the cracks of the whip to admonish him with their scorching pain.

Daniel burst into loud sobs as the minutes ticked by agonizingly. He resumed begging and pleading for mercy, howling in pain. With his arms and legs restrained, he could only wriggle uselessly, never once escaping the stroke of the whip. When the whip snapped across his lower back, just above his buttocks, he choked with pain. His stomach tied itself in knots, and his chest heaved with sobs, seeming to throb with inner pain. He hardly recognized his voice for its hoarse shrieks. Through it all, Henry said not a word, which made it hurt all the more.

Outside the door, Beechworth and Paternoster listened to all of this. Paternoster was calm as ever. Beechworth began to flinch at the sound of the whip.

"I actually feel sorry for him," he said. "It's a good thing this level is sound-proofed. Henry isn't going to let up anytime soon."

"It's for the best," Paternoster said. "Let Bedloe get it out of his system once and for all. Then they can work together for the sake of the group."

Daniel screamed pitifully. Beechworth shook his head.

"He may be older than I am," he said, "but poor boy."

By the time the sounds ended and the two men entered the room, Daniel was on the floor sobbing like a small child. He was on his knees, arms around his head on the cot, howling and crying. His backside was still exposed, displaying hideous scarlet lines and splotches of bruises, a few of which were bleeding. Henry still sat on the cot, the flogger in his hand, his eyes staring down at Daniel. He looked tired, and very sad.

Beechworth went to Daniel and knelt down beside him, a hand on his back. He hissed in sympathy as he looked over the marks lining the man's buttocks, thighs, and lower back. At the same time, he wondered if Daniel was stupid, mad, or both to have defied Henry in the first place.

"All right, man, all right," he awkwardly tried to comfort Daniel. "It's all over now, isn't it?"

Daniel was inconsolable. He bawled as if his heart would break, yelping in pain every time he moved the slightest bit. Beechworth looked at Henry appealingly. Henry stared blankly for a moment, then blinked himself back to reality. He sighed, tossing the flogger to the floor, and pushed Beechworth away.

"Yes," he agreed with Beechworth, "it is all over. Shh, hush now, Daniel. It's done. Come here. There's a good lad."

Henry helped Daniel up onto the cot. He removed his jacket and ascot, then laid him down on his stomach. He rubbed Daniel's bottom gently, kissed the top of his head. Daniel went on hollering.

"There is a private guest room prepared for you on the second floor," Paternoster announced. "I don't think the boy is in any condition to travel tonight. When you are ready, a servant upstairs will show you to it. Come, Beechworth, let's respect their privacy."

Beechworth was grateful to leave the two men to their intimacy. Paternoster swept out of the cell, Beechworth on his heels. As no one else had any reason to be in the dungeon, Daniel and Henry were alone.

Henry lifted Daniel's head by his hair, though not too harshly. Daniel looked up at him through a teary haze, cheeks still red from the slaps. Henry released his hair and took his face in one hand to keep it up.

"Do you still believe it was worth it?" Henry asked. "Disobeying me? Lying to me? Betraying me?"

Daniel shook his head, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. Henry kissed some of them away, then pressed his mouth to Daniel's. Daniel's kiss was very meek. Henry climbed onto the bed and pulled Daniel atop himself. Daniel rested his head on his chest, clinging to his shirt for comfort. His eyes were very round and thunderstricken.

"You entrusted yourself to me, Daniel," Henry said. "I did not have to draw you in at the first, you sought me out on your own, do you remember? You kept my card, and you called on my office for psychiatric help. You took my offer of friendship. Despite my initial intentions, I risked everything to protect you, I would have given everything up just to love you. Why would you lie to me?"

"I only w-wanted to be of use," Daniel sniffled. "I felt s-so unimportant at work. I just wanted to feel useful again. I wanted to have an ambition."

"No, you just wanted to have your way," Henry said wearily. "Well, so be it. It's done. Whatever comes of this, it will be on your head, Daniel. And your arse."

Daniel moaned and buried his face in Henry's shirt. Henry snorted in amusement and stroked his hair. Daniel shuddered and sobbed softly.

"You frighten me, Daniel," Henry said. "I thought that I had full control of my mind and my life. I worked very hard and made many sacrifices to take control of myself. But today, I almost lost that control completely. I almost let go of everything, almost lost myself to that old dumb rage again. It's love, Daniel. I cannot control this love, and it frightens me."

"I'm sorry," Daniel murmured contritely. "I never … I never thought that you were capable of feeling that way. Of feeling … "

"Helpless," Henry admitted. "You make me feel helpless, Daniel. This love is claustrophobic, I feel trapped within it. When you hurt me, I felt so desperate to escape it that for a moment I wanted to kill you."

The words were said so gravely that Daniel was almost grateful for the whipping.

"Then I realized something even more diminishing: I cannot kill you," Henry said. "I cannot live without you. I've never depended on anyone in my life, I've never needed anyone in it. I have made myself strong by making others expendable. So long as I held that view, I could control anyone and anything, including myself. Now I've lost that. No, you have taken it away from me. I feel I should hate you for it, at least, but I can't even do that. I love you, Daniel."

Daniel did not have the will to speak. The severity of the whipping and the energy he had expended sobbing had shocked him into sleepiness. He shut his eyes, beginning to fade despite the throbbing pain. Henry nudged him awake again, sitting up.

"No, let's not sleep down here," he said. "Come, we'll go up to the guest room."

Daniel climbed down from the cot, leaning on Henry and cringing as he stood. He yowled in agony as Henry pulled his trousers back up, the fabric abrasive against his battered skin. He leaned on Henry's shoulder to gather himself before daring to move again. Henry put an arm around him to keep him steady.

Upstairs, a servant guided them to the second floor, using the empty passageways through the back of the house. Through his daze, Daniel heard someone playing the piano in another room, bursts of laughter amid the murmur of conversation. It felt like an age ago that he had been just another happy guest.

Henry helped Daniel undress in their room, and Daniel collapsed on the bed. Henry left to fetch something, then returned. He removed his jacket and boots, sat on the bed beside Daniel. He lifted the young man's shirt up off his backside and began to massage balm into his sore flesh. Daniel cringed, but eventually it began to soothe the sting. He watched Henry as he worked, pondering what he had said.

"Do you hate me, Henry?"

"I told you that I love you, didn't I?"

"Yes, but do you also hate me?"

Henry paused to look at him directly. He looks anything but hateful with his bottom whipped and those tears in his eyes, he thought. That's always been the trap.

"I hate what you cause me to feel," Henry said. "I'm still angry with you. I think you are a selfish little brat. But I don't hate you. I've tried to, it would all be easier if I did, but I can't."

"Then, I can forgive you," Daniel said, scrubbing his eyes. He lay his head back down. "Even for this."

"Forgive me? You earned this, Daniel."

Daniel gave him such a pitiful look that Henry flushed with guilt. He hastily continued tending his partner's injuries. I really laid into him, he thought. I wasn't even thinking. I never intended to break the skin. It's only a few cuts, but I never meant to make him bleed. Damn my savagery!

"I … will not do this again."

"You won't spank me?" Daniel asked hopefully.

"No, I will spank you if you deserve it, but not this harshly," Henry ground the words out. "This was … too much. I won't ever go so far again, I promise."

As if reminded of his poor treatment all over again, Daniel sniffed. He reached out to Henry, who embraced him securely. He set the balm aside and sat further up on the bed to cradle Daniel in his arms. Daniel cried on his chest, shaking a little. Henry comforted him as best he could until the youth fell asleep.

Henry was wrested from sleep late that night by Daniel thrashing about and yelling. He caught the man's wrists and held him still. Daniel's eyes looked wildly about, then settled on Henry.

"It was only a nightmare," Henry said. "Shh, Daniel, look at me. You were only dreaming."

Daniel rolled onto his side and curled up into Henry's arms. He wiped sweat and tears from his face, exhaling slowly to calm himself. He had dreamt that he heard Alexander calling to him, beckoning from the shadows of Brennenburg.

"This is disgusting," Daniel murmured sleepily. "Being whipped and having nightmares. Did I ever really grow up? I'm supposed to be a man. Aren't I a man, Henry?"

"Not to me," Henry said lightly. He rubbed Daniel's bottom affectionately. "You'll always be a boy to me—my boy."

"I'm pathetic," Daniel yawned. "That's why I wanted so much to join the group. I thought perhaps I could be strong, perhaps I could learn to be stronger."

"Hush. Now isn't the time to worry about any of that," Henry said. "Are you hungry? You've not had dinner."

"A bit."

"I'll fetch a tray of something."

"Don't leave me."

"I'll leave a candle lit."

Daniel was too weary to argue. He lay alone in the bed, watching the candlelight throw shadows onto the walls. He was drifting off to sleep again when there was a knock on the door. Before he could answer, it opened, and Lady Rosalind entered the room. Daniel hastily pulled the sheets over his mostly bare body. She stood right over the bed, looking down at him curiously. Then she took his face by the chin and turned it, studying the reddened side.

"Madam, please, you should not be in here," Daniel said. "It's inappropriate."

"Don't worry, Jameson told me all about it when we were—conversing," Rosalind said. "May I see?"

"No." Damn Beechworth!

Rosalind lifted the sheet regardless. She scrutinized the bruises with narrowed eyes before Daniel snatched the covers back. He tried to sit up to save a scrap of dignity, but he ended up on his stomach again. Miserable, he lay mortified beneath the strange woman's gaze.

"Dear boy, why would you let that brute do such a thing to you?"

"It wasn't exactly a choice."

"Yet you still choose to lay in bed beside him," Rosalind pointed out. "Why?"

"He loves me," Daniel said. "I love him, too, though not so much at the moment."

"There are far easier people to love than Henry Bedloe," Rosalind said. "Far gentler, softer people."

Daniel averted his eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed. She wore only a white nightgown, through which her curves were dangerously visible. A cool soft palm touched his face, smoothing his hair and brushing the sweat away.

"Why would you subject yourself to so cruel a lover?" Rosalind asked. "Do you not know how to accept kindness?"

"You don't know me, Lady Rosalind," Daniel said ominously. "If you did, you would not need to ask those questions."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"I've done bad things," Daniel said. "I've done horrible, unspeakable things, even by the standards of this group. I suffered for them and I've forgiven myself, to some extent, but I'm still terrified of falling back into that darkness. Henry is strong enough to protect me, even if it's from myself. I not only love him, I need him."

"Is that so, or do you only believe that you need him?" Rosalind asked. "Wouldn't you like to learn how not to need that beast so desperately? Do you not wish for freedom?"

Daniel knew he should respond negatively, but something stayed his tongue. He had joined the group for those very reasons. How had this woman seen through him after only meeting him twice? Her insightful sharpness was frightening, and her boldness was worse. She was stroking his hair now in a way that was partly motherly, partly seductive. It was different, being touched by a woman; there was a sweetness in it that Henry could never have. Despite himself, Daniel was eased by the touch. Was she humming a lullaby?

Daniel came fully awake when Henry returned. He stopped at the doorway, tray of food in hand. Rosalind smiled and stood from the bed. Daniel was amazed at the fearless way she faced Henry.

"Rosalind."

"Henry."

Henry stared at her, then flatly said, "Get out."

Rosalind lifted her hands in a careless gesture, bid Daniel goodnight, and left the room. Henry's mouth was a tight line. He returned to bed, setting the tray of food between them. Daniel picked at bread and cheese.

"That woman," Henry finally said.

"Yes?"

"That woman is a manipulative harpy," Henry said. "What did she want?"

"Me," Daniel said honestly. "We met earlier, before … all that trouble. She was very disappointed to find out that I was yours, but she says she has supped from your table before."

"She certainly has," Henry said darkly. "She has a taste for handsome boys that rivals my own. But do not think she is all softness simply because she is a woman. She can be as cruel as I am."

"She said women could be that way, but as harsh as you are?" Daniel gave a one-note laugh. "Surely not?"

"Yes," Henry said. "Tell me, did she insist upon seeing your marks?"

"Well, yes, she, er, pulled the sheet off." Daniel blushed. "Beechworth told her all about it, apparently."

"And she just had to see how adorable the new young man looks after a whipping," Henry surmised. "Don't believe for a moment that she wanted anything else. That woman is a sadist."

"Are you jealous?"

Henry thought Daniel was taunting him, but the man appeared merely curious. Henry checked his temper. I have to do something about it, he thought. I can't continue losing my self-control because of this lad. It won't end well for either of us.

"Rosalind Barlow is jealous of me," Henry explained. "As I said, she shares my tastes down to their last particularity. She uses her femininity to pose a counterpoint to my roughness, and she has lured a few of my lovers away from me just so. But she is no more lenient than I am. Her cruelty is in fact more subtle, she enjoys diminishing her partners in mind and body. She has broken her share of young men and women."

"Women?" Daniel was bewildered. "How do you mean? Women can … I mean, they can … have sex? With each other?"

Henry could not help but laugh. Daniel pouted, embarrassed by his naivete. Henry ruffled his hair and fed him a piece of fruit by hand. Daniel frowned as he chewed, obviously thinking furiously on the mechanics of so many varieties of intimacy.

"I will explain it all to you in due time," he said. "Yes, Rosalind has had lovers of both sexes. So have I. We have been embroiled in a sort of competition for a while. It has been only a minor annoyance, but her desire for you is an escalation. I will not let her have you. I would kill her first."

Daniel looked at him with wide eyes. He tried to find a trace of humor on Henry's face, but the man was deadly serious. He can't bring himself to kill me, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't kill someone who comes between us, Daniel thought. I must be careful, then. I would hate to get anyone killed. Rosalind may be a peculiar woman, but I don't think she's bad.

After eating, Henry put the tray by the door, and climbed back into bed beside Daniel. Unbeknownst to the two of them, Rosalind had lingered just outside their door. Her ears were keen and she had heard most of their words. She heard curiosity in Daniel's voice, and the appetizing ignorance of an ingenue. Her lips, red even without rouge, curled into a predatory smile. That boy may be Henry's final undoing, she thought. Ho! To see the beast devoured by his own appetites! What sport that would be! What fun! Perhaps sometime I will go hunting for his delectable new prey.