Chapter 6
Chris
Morning came too soon and with it the knowledge that sometime during the night Matthew had crept from my bed. The light poured in through the windows; alerting me to the fact that the drapes had been pulled open. From the corner of the room I heard shuffling and I turned my head and located Christian as he gingerly flipped through my clothing and pulled together an outfit. The rustling of the covers must have caught his ear and he turned, a tight smile on his face as he nodded to me.
"G'morning m'lord. Did the night treat you well?" He asked as he turned his back so that I could take care of my morning needs. I plunged my hands into the icy water in the basin, my eyes flicking back to the bed as if there were some visible sign that Matthew had been there the night before. Near the center of the bed my eyes fell upon it: a smear of blood; reminding me that I tore him. His growling from the night before played back to me as were it a ghost, and the haunting sounds reached my ears and made them glow hot. Quickly I moved back over to the bed and flipped the covers to hide the crimson evidence which had no proper means to account for it.
"Lord Regal's foot man Kingston stopped by sire." Christian said as he turned to face me again. "Is that so?" My hair was a tangle of snarls from Matthew and my row in the sheets, so I gingerly started to pull the tortoise shell brush through my golden locks.
"Aye m'lord. He wishes for you to join him at the club later today to observe the boxing matches."
Boxing matches. My face screwed up into a scowl and when Christian raised his brow a bit I quickly hid my looks of apparent disgust. I could not imagine such an awkward situation. When Lord Regal and our colleagues would be getting sauced and enjoying the brutal display, I would be fidgeting and attempting to hide my disgust at such a barbaric display, while simultaneously becoming aroused. Perhaps it shall not come to that, I prayed it would not. I entertained the thought of rolling back into my downy mattress and feigning an illness, thus avoiding the thing all together, though undoubtedly Regal would just send another invite once I was 'well'.
Reluctantly I let Christian dress me and after my reflection suited me I headed for the dining room. My mind went completely blank when I entered and my eyes fell upon Matthew as he leaned against the wall and watched my cook as she moved about the room; a blush on her cheeks. My face begin to heat as though fiery embers, and I pushed the thoughts aside and took my seat. Ms. Piper moved so that she was standing aside me, awaiting my order. When I looked up at her, I could see the dark bruise which marred the column of her throat and my frustration began to come back to the forefront.
I wished for it to be my neck that Matthew nibbled at, that his lips caressed. I dropped my heated glare away from her, knowing that would never be a reality. Even if I was ever able to get him to the point that he would obey me willingly, I was highly skeptical that he would ever return the affection. No, it's only lust, only my need to satisfy myself, there is no affection. Scoundrel, how could I let my emotions run away with me so? Am I a no better than a doting female? I barked at the cook that I was not taking breakfast, to which Christian cast a worried glance at me. I waved him away moodily when he began to speak, and I thought he glanced at Matthew with something dark creeping into his eyes. It was no matter to me.
I rose from the table, moving swiftly from the room. With my mood as soured as it was I supposed that it would serve to keep my mind from wandering during the boxing matches. Christian was trailing behind me; I could hear his soft footfalls against the marble flooring. I tried to push Matthew and Ms. Piper from my mind, but the dark bruising on her neck haunted me when I closed my eyes. With meaning too I found myself back in my quarters; staring at my bed and wanting to crawl under the cool cotton sheets.
"Sir--" The word was spoken quietly, whatever was meant to be behind it fell flat when I spun to face Christian, his eyes wide at the anger twisting my face.
"Let me be Christian, you are dismissed for the morning." He took an unsure step back and worried his bottom lip with his teeth. I thought he was ready to leave, and was suprised when he started again, even quieter than the first time.
"Bu-but M'lord...if something is distressing you--" This time, my palm ringing against his check cut his words short. His head snapped to the side and he stumbled back, a thread of crimson leaking from his lips from where he'd bit down on his tongue.
"Don't defy me, damn it!" I yelled, pacing about the room and glancing at him as he backed out of the door, his eyes wide as he dabbed his lips on the back of his hand.
With a yowl of frustration I went to the window and leaned against it, watching the scenery below. After a few moments I saw Christian trudging back to his housing, his shoulders slumped, and I felt simply horrible. I had never struck him; he has always been good to me, today being no exception. He was only concerned for me as a good valet should. I pulled away from the window and sighed, rubbing at my temples as a splendid headache welled up inside of my skull.
I knew what I had to do, yet I didn't think that Christian would accept an apology from me right now. In fact I doubt that he'd even believe one. After all I'm not one to admit when I'm sorry. I clenched my hands; all this was Matthew's fault. If that beautifully dark phantom hadn't started haunting my thoughts both day and night this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't be consumed with the need to touch him constantly; to feel his muscles beneath my fingers and hear the pleasured sounds that drip from his lips enchantingly even when he tries to swallow them. My mind starts to drift again and I turned from the window trying to get myself under control. There is a small knock on my door and I call for them to come in dully, it's probably no more than the butler reminding me about something or the other that I have to do today. When I look back up I'm surprised to see the object of my dark fantasies standing there; a suppressed grimace on his face.
"M'Lord " The title is forced out but I over look it in my obvious dumbfoundment. "Lord Regal is here to see you." He goes to turn and leave but I call out; finding my voice and praying that it isn't wavering.
"Matthew go and fetch Christian for me. Tell him I need to speak with him, that it's most urgent." With a stiff nod Matthew is gone fro my sight, and I let out a sigh; sounding very much like one of the starry eyed gels at the ball from the previous eve.
In moments Christian was lingering in the doorway, I did not blame him for his ill at ease manner. I beckoned him in and it was clear that he stepped in only out of obedience to me, not because he wanted to.
"Christian...f-forgive me for my quick temper I...I have been...rather on edge since coming to London. I do not favor the city, I would much rather be home in the open space, and truly, I do not much enjoy the company of Lady Katherine nor do I eagerly await our marriage." I looked away from him and took up my former spot at the window, fearing I had spoke too much and would only make his curiosity peak further. I had begun to feel that everything was out of my hands, and did not at all like it. I closed my eyes and leaned against the cool glass of the window, wishing my choices could be made easier, my burdens lesser.
Christian cleared his throat, a light--almost purring sound--and I looked back up at him.
"Sire, I do not mean to be disrespectful but you truly do not want this match can you not beg off and find another?"
If only it were that easy. I shook my head, once more damning the strict rules that my status has wrought upon me. "For I to call it off would mean that I find something about her unsuitable for marriage. And that stigma would always be there, killing any chance she would have at finding a potential mate in the future." Christian nodded his head, and looked back down at his feet. "You may go now Christian; I merely wanted to tender an apology for what I'd done. Take the rest of the day and do whatever strikes your fancy." I forced a smile on my face, reminding myself that Lord Regal was awaiting me in the parlor.
"What about you sire, you'll have no one to attend to you."
"Christian my dear man, I'm going to the boxing matches. I won't need anyone until I return."
The boxing match did little to take my mind from my problems. As Lord Regal and the others cheered for their man, I was quiet, warring to keep certain parts of myself from embarrassment. Layfield was there, and he started bets, garnering many heated glares when he seemed to be curiously coming out ahead. For the most part I was able to keep myself in check; although I felt rather awkward, and I am positive the awkwardness was picked up by William as he tried to get my interest peaked, clapping me heartily on the back. I put on a false, wide, grin and offered a few half-hearted cheers at whomever it was that he was pulling for. Currently, there was a young fair headed lad squaring off against and older man with a big frame, his jaw bearded, his head bald. The young blond was called Jack, the other called Bam. Their row was intense and behind their eyes seemed an impassioned fire. Fists flew and connected with flesh again and again, each one seeming to own the other just as well, both split and bleeding from various points on their faces. Seeing the younger blond drip blood from his mouth had me shifting from foot to foot as my mind went back to Christian and how I had treated him so poorly this morning.
I shook my head to clear it away and watched Lord Regal. He was in quite an absurd frenzy over the bigger man, yelling and cheering him on, while heckling the other. I mimicked him if for nothing more than to seem as though I was enjoying the show. In fact, I hoped for it to be over very soon. The men around me were beginning to get rowdy and loud from too much ale. The thick smell of the liquor hung in the air and mingled with the heavy scent of cigar smoke and sweat. I grimaced, not at all enjoying the atmosphere or the spray of bodily juices that splattered my face when the bearded man landed on last blow to the face of the blond, knocking him into an unmoving lump in the midst of the ring. The one called Bam was cheered, his hand raised in victory. I shifted my eyes towards Regal, hoping we could at last leave. But seemingly there was one more match to be tolerated.
The first man out was small and nearly feminine looking, he immediately found my attention. His hair was beautiful and golden, tied neatly at the back of his neck. Even from here I could distinguish the intensity of his blazing cobalt eyes, and the smile on his face was smug as he bounced on his toes in his corner. When I flicked my gaze to his opponent my mouth went dry and I nearly collapsed, at first mistaking the man for my Matthew. At first glance they were very similar indeed, but the more I studied his face I drew out the differences. I feared however, that this last match would be too much for me. I was correct in my assumptions. The moment the two men--one called Hickenbottom, the other called Hart--squared off passion and hate seemed to burst between them. Very soon I could not see those two men battling, but replaced with myself and Matthew. My knees felt weak, and I turned to William, shouting to him that I was not feeling well and needed air. I weaved through the crowd, feeling sick at each disgusting, drunkard that brushed against me in the dimly lit area. Once outside I gasped, relieved to be away from that scene.
Matt
For some strange reason even after Irvine left I found myself on edge, almost as if my body was trying to warn me of some danger that was lurking just outside the scope of my vision. Of course there wasn't but all the same I felt my stomach coiling as I walked through the empty halls of the townhome. Jeri the cook was busy prepping the evening meal, so I had time until she was done to waste. I felt my lips kick up into a smile, between her dark beauty and Darla's creamy fairness I was a man that extremely well sated. A darkened hall caught my attention and with the curiosity of young boy I headed down; my eyes flicking back and forth as I took in the gilded frames that held pictures of what could only be Irvine's ancestors. Each one had the same sparkling blue eyes and soft looking lips. The thought brought me up short; where in the hell did that come from? I shook my head and pushed on further down the hall, forcing myself to think of my two--feminine lovers. Soon my memories were a mish mash that I didn't bother to sort out; I just let them play over and over again as I continued down the hall so when I was violently shoved it was a complete surprise. Before I could get my bearing back, I was turned around and pinned to wall by my throat; Christian glaring and snarling at me.
I surged forward and pushed the miscreant away from me. He fell back against the wall and knocked one of the Dukes' family oil portraits askew in its heavy, gilded, frame.
"What is the meaning of this!" I spat at him and out of instinct took up a defensive, fighting posture.
He picked himself up and glared from under his brow, the intensity in his loathing shocking to me. I had not noted it whilst he had first been teaching me the ways of the valet. No, then he had merely seemed bored with my presence, perhaps a bit resentful, but nothing that would warrant him lashing out against me.
He didn't answer me, just surged forwards again, this time taking us to the flooring where my head struck with enough force to send stars dancing behind my eyelids. He started to speak yet I could barely make out any words through the ringing in my ears. Almost stupidly I blinked up at him, my mind completely blank. His balled hand connected with my check and I bit down on the inside of my cheek; blood filling my mouth as my survival instincts took over. I struggled until I got my feet positioned under his stomach then shoved him backwards; sending him crashing back into the wall. I scrambled to my feet and stood with my hands at the ready; waiting for him to regain his composer.
"Answer me dammit!" I all but yelled, not caring who over heard me.
"You won't be taking my place." He snarled; quickly grabbing a fistful of my hair and using it to fling me into a statue that stood a little ways down the hall.
"You're nothing more than a crass, loud mouth, urchin who would be better off in the stables shoveling dung and caring for the master's beasts rather than dirtying up the house with your uncouth mannerisms and provincial dialect." He sniffed and I suddenly felt the urge to spread his pretty aquiline nose all over his face.
I barely reigned in the impulse and settled instead to glare as I snapped out my retort. "Believe you me, I'd rather be in the stables, atleast there a jackass is a jackass whereas here there are jackasses trying to pass themselves off as something different." Christian once more started to growl at me, and I took a step forwards, pressing my chest against his.
He drew his fist back ready to belt me again but froze, as twin shrieks pierced our ears. We both jerked out heads towards the sounds. Darla and Jezebel scurried towards us, clutching the dusty hems of their skirts, the latter pushing her mop cap back over her raven tresses as it tried to abandon her.
"What are you two doing?" She noted the cocked frames on the wall and immediately went to setting them straight as Darla inserted herself between Christian and I, cautiously glancing back and forth between our scowling faces.
"It's not fit for the both of you to carry on so in the Dukes' home!" Miss Hughes chastised. "If you insist on carrying on a barney like two untamed animals, then take it else where!"
"She's right, loves take it elsewhere! We needn't have blood to scrub from the floor and shattered trinkets to find explanation for when Sire comes home. His mood is already ill, and I for one do not wish to see it sour further." Miss Piper chimed in, patting Christians' arm in attempts to placate him.
They're right and I back down, surprised to see the red head standing there. Last I seen her she was scrubbing floors back at the estate. My surprise must not have gone unnoticed; she smiled saucily and bit her bottom lip playfully.
"Copeland was sent to fetch some o us from the manor this morn. Apparently he couldn't find any good help around these parts."
I grinned down at her then looked over at Jezebel, my eyes wide as they shared identical smirks. I think I'm now in more trouble. Christian snorted and straightened his clothing, his superior--snobbish expression back on his face.
"I do apologize my fair ladies. I merely wanted to speak with Matthew yet I fear I let my unbased fears ensnare me." He nodded to them and left, his back stiff and his steps wooden. The sound of giggling makes me turn around and I can't help the smirk, this might just turn out to be a good thing.
Chris
I was glad for Copeland to take me away from that place. William came out after me, his footing a bit wobbly from the amount of ale he'd thrown back. He wanted me to come back and have a visit, but I kept up that I was ill, which was not entirely a farce. Apologizing for my premature departure, I ducked into the coach and closed my eyes tight until it stopped again, and Adam took my hand to help me out. I asked him to stay ready, that Matthew and I were going on an outing. When his glance seemed wary, I gave an explanation that I wanted time to become acquainted with him in hopes he might settle better into the position he was being trained for. Adam said nothing, and I went inside to round up the dark haired demon that haunted me, though at this moment I only wished for him to be close to me, as a friend or confidant even though I knew he was neither. The notion of linking those two words between us was nearly laughable.
It didn't take me long to find him, he was sitting in the kitchen area watching as Jezebel and Darla bustled around the area doing their respective duties. Mentally I smacked myself for not telling Copeland to leave the buxom redhead at the estate. No mind, I'll just have to make sure that Matthew's time is occupied during the day so that he doesn't have the opportunities to further corrupt my help. Or leave on them the marks that he should be leaving on me. With a frown I pushed that thought to the side, and cleared my throat. All three looked up, Jezebel and Darla dropping down into deep curtseys before resuming their duties and Matthew curling his lip in contempt. I quickly thing about turning on my heels and retreating to my room but the sudden need to just be near him is over powering and I hear myself calling out to him.
"Matthew, ready your cloak, we're going out on an errand." He stands and for a moment I think that he's going to start back talking me, yet I'm pleasantly surprised when he nods his head stiffly.
"As you wish M'lord." He stalks from the room and for a moment I wonder if he really just obeyed with out sass.
He was back shortly, and without word followed me tot he coach. He ducked in as I told Adam where I wish to go, and then I too was seated inside. Strangely, being near him, some of my tension though not all of it drained away. At least my back was not so stiff and rigid, but more relaxed, and the throb in my head dulled to a more tolerable level. Out of reflex my hand moved towards his, almost ghosting across it before I drew it away with a gasp, as though it had mind of its own and had gone about its business without first consulting me. Luckily, Matthews gaze was turned towards the street, and he did not notice the near contact. Internally I berated myself for such a stupid action. Holding his hand? Surely not...but all the same...I slightly wondered how the strong, work-worn, hands would feel warm and wrapped around my soft ones.
"So what errand are we running today sire." It was said softly and I turned my attention back to him. His eyes were still watching the street blur by us; the light coming in the small window and splashing across his face; giving it an almost unworldly glow.
"There is no errand, I merely wanted to spend some time with you......to get to know you better." I don't know why I felt the need to be honest with him, but when he turns his large brown eyes to me; their dark depths clouded with confusion I know that I either derailed whatever spiteful thing that was going to come out of his mouth or gave him more fuel for his hatred.
"Why?"
"Why what?" Now it was my turn to be confused. No hate, no sneering, just a quiet question asked almost fearfully from a man that I doubt has ever known an ounce of fear in his life.
"Why do you want to know about me? I gave my word to keep your illicit secret; I need not tell you anything about me in the process."
My cheeks felt hot as I looked down at my lap where I picked at my nails, somehow seeming nervous. "I--well you see...I suppose I thought it might...make things a bit easier if we were on better terms." It did no quite sound like the right thing to say, nor was it really what I meant--bloody hell--I did not know what I meant anyway. I clicked my mouth shut and decided on mimicking Matthew and just stared out the window, waiting for a reply or for the carriage to stop, whichever came first.
"My father was a cobbler." The words, though quiet, hung in the air. I turned and looked at him, willing him silently to go on. "I had a brother, but he was taken from me."
"By the slavers?"
Matthew shook his head, his eyes coming away from the window and fastening on my face and for once there was no scowling lips, no smoldering eyes; it was just him, the Matthew I only glimpsed when he was sleeping.
"No, he was cut down when raiders infiltrated our town." He said no more, turning his head from me once more and bringing one hand up to wipe at his eyes.
I wanted to pull him close and offer him comfort and I acted on my impulse, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and drawing him into my chest. For a moment he just sat there, his head lying on my chest; his hair tickling my nose and then it was over. He yanked himself from my grasp and moved to the far side of the couch, his eyes once more consumed with the hatred that I had grown accustomed of seeing there and his lips compressed into a tight line.
I felt perhaps I was pressuring him too much, and he was not the only one thrust into confusion at my actions. I knew what they meant, they meant that I was beginning to care for the raven haired stallion, and more so I wished that someone, that he would care for me in a way no one else had, not even the loyal Christian. I knew I should stop entertaining such fantasies; they were completely ridiculous and painfully unattainable. The more I thought it over, the more I thought that perhaps I should call for Copeland to turn the carriage and go back to the town home that felt cold and uncaring to me.
"Matthew, would you prefer we went back?" I found the words coming awkwardly from my lips, and felt his bewildered gaze upon me. I turned to watch his eyes as the suspiciously searched me, as though I was hiding some wicked trick.
"And since when does it matter what I prefer?"
"Since I have asked it of you." I responded quietly, waiting. "I'm sure you would...would much rather be chasing the ladies of my house than spending your time in my presence."
His brow furrowed as he tried to find some loop hole that would ensnare him but gave up when he could not.
"N-no." The simple word surprised us both. "I mean, it seems as if the ladies of your house have ganged up on me and I'm no longer the hunter but the hunted." I tried hard to keep the smile from my lips, but the image was too absurd and I found myself chuckling under my breath. If there was one thing that Matthew was not, it was prey. I nodded my head and settled a little more against the plush cushioning.
"Since I have asked of you, is there anything that you would like to know of me?"
His head stayed bowed; there was probably nothing that he wanted to know and I didn't blame him. If I were in his place I probably wouldn't want to know anything about the man forcing me to his will either. When it stayed quiet I rolled my shoulders, part of me wishing that he had asked something--anything, even if it was laced with hatred and contempt. The coach trundled on, both of our eyes drawn to the streets as the slate grey stones passed, interrupted every so often by a broken or missing piece. I rapped on the roof, my signal to Copeland to return to the townhouse, there was no headway being made and while I didn't want our time to end, I didn't know how long I could stay cooped up in the small space without touching him again. As we made a wide right Matthew looked over at me, his eyes narrowed but full of confusion.
"Why me?" Simple words really, yet strung together they formed a larger--more complex question. I tilted my head. There were so many ways I could answer that but as I sat there I couldn't pull the right answer to me. In the end it didn't matter, Matthew had more to say. His hands were fisted in his lap, his fingers twined with themselves and twisting this way and that; occasionally making me flinch as I heard the bones pop and grind together.
"Out of all the slaves there that day, why did you pick me? What was it about me that made you have to have me?" His eyes were now boring holes into mine and my mouth spoke before I had a chance to think over my words.
"I...I don't know." I shifted in my seat, feeling vulnerable beneath his gaze. "The moment I heard the throng gasp, the moment I...laid eyes upon you...I was possessed with your dark beauty." I cast my eyes downwards, towards my lap, feeling ill and wishing I had not asked him questions or better yet, had not even asked him along in the first place. "I am sorry." I added softly. Whatever had I been thinking? I suppose I was just painfully lonely and hoped that being near him would ease the emptiness. Now, I only wanted to be rid of him for the day.