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eyes. «Your father was a monster.»

«Was?» Minshom swallowed hard. «Don’t you mean is?»

Thomas looked appalled. «Dear God, he’s still alive, isn’t he?»

«Barely. The last stroke totally incapacitated him, and he has

been bedridden for years.» Minshom sighed. «That’s one of the

reasons why my wife wants me to go back to Minshom Abbey.

She’s convinced he is finally dying and she wishes me to make

my peace with him.»

Thomas gripped him by the shoulders. «You must do it

because you have to see him as he is; you have to forgive him for

what he’s done to you and move on.» He winced. «I know it

sounds ridiculous, but I returned too late to confront my father. I

was never able to tell him how much I hated him for putting me

in The Little Gentleman’s Club. I left home the moment I was

able to and never went back. God, I wish I’d had five minutes

alone with him...»

Minshom stared at Thomas’s grief-stricken face. Could he do

it? Could he go home and make his peace not only with his

father, but with Jane?

«I don’t want to go home.» Minshom tried to laugh. «God, I

sound like a sniveling child, don’t I? My father has been right

about me all along. I’m a sexual deviant, a bad husband and a

coward. Why the hell would I want to go home and admit that?»

«From what I saw of your wife, she certainly didn’t consider

you a bad husband, and as to your sexuality, personally, I have no

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problem with it at all.» Thomas smiled. «And I’m sure you are

not a coward. You’ll go back. I know you will.»

«How can you be so sure?»

Thomas leaned forward and kissed Blaize on the lips.

«Because I know you.»

«You used to know me, but I’ve changed, Thomas. I’ve done

nothing to be proud of in the last ten years, ask Jane.»

Thomas smiled, his kind brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

«I have faith in you.»

«But you’re returning to India.»

Thomas let out his breath, «Actually I’m not. There’s too

much work to do here on the estate for me to walk away from it

now, and I need to settle my mother and sisters into the dower

house.» He hesitated. «I’ll be here if you want me, if you need

me.»

Minshom studied Thomas’s face and wanted to laugh. So

much for easing his conscience and walking away. The thought

of having Thomas, fucking him, being fucked in return stirred

insidiously in his brain. Jane wouldn’t mind either, he was quite

sure of that.

«I don’t know what I have to offer you, Thomas, but I’m glad

you’re not leaving.» Minshom stood up. «I have to go home,

don’t I?»

«I suspect you do.»

Minshom studied the toe of his shoe. «Jane’s breeding.»

«Congratulations.»

«You don’t mind?»

«Why should I mind?» Thomas shrugged. «She’s your wife.

And she gave us the opportunity to be together. I’ll always be

grateful to her for that.»

«I didn’t intend for that to happen, for you to fuck me. I set

out to prove to you both that I was capable of bending you to

my will.»

«Well you certainly proved something.»

260 /
Kate Pearce

Minshom halted by the door. «I don’t get fucked, Thomas.

The only person I’ve allowed to fuck me since I was seventeen is

Robert.»

«Robert Brown? Yet you let him leave you for Captain Gray.»

Minshom winced. «Does everyone in town know about that?»

Thomas leaned back against the desk, his expression shrewd.

«Not everyone. If Robert was so important to you, why did you

let him go?»

«Because I’ve realized you can’t force someone to stay with

you.» Minshom took an unsteady breath. «I think that’s what Jane

realized about me, why she left me.»

«Even if you love them?»

«Love comes in many different shades, doesn’t it? Jane said

she loved me, and I threw it back in her face. And I used Robert.

That’s not love.»

«Yet he loved you anyway.»

Minshom gave Thomas an irritated look. «Have you been

talking to Captain Gray as well?»

«I have, and he still can’t believe his good fortune.» Thomas

paused. «I told him that he had nothing to worry about, that you

were a man of your word and that I would make sure you never

needed Robert again.»

Minshom’s faint smile died along with his hopes. God, this

was hard—to share the depths of his depravity, to expose himself

to his lover in more ways than one. How the hell had Jane

managed it? Where had she found the courage to come back to

him and open herself up to be hurt again? And he had hurt her

badly, he knew that.

«You don’t know what I made Robert do.»

Thomas crossed his arms over his chest. «What do you

mean?»

«As I said, I’ve changed from when you knew me.» Minshom

studied the door panel, unable to contemplate actually looking at

Thomas. «Sometimes, when I felt as if I was no longer in control

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of a sexual situation, I would force Robert to hurt me, to fight

me and then fuck me.»

Thomas shrugged. «I’d do that for you.»

Minshom had to look at him then. «Hurt me?»

«I don’t think that’s what you really need. Once you make

your peace with your father, I suspect the desire to punish

yourself will fade.»

Minshom gripped the door handle and wrenched open the

door. «You seem to think you have all the answers, don’t you?»

Thomas smiled. «No, but I think you do.»

«Good night, Major.»

«Good night, my lord. I look forward to seeing you on your

return.»

«My return from where?»

«From Minshom Abbey, of course.»

Minshom glared at him. «Damn you, Thomas.»

The corner of Thomas’s mouth kicked up in a smile. «Damn

you, Lord Minshom, and you’re welcome.»

262 /
Kate Pearce

22

Minshom paused his horse on a slight rise before he came

down into the valley that contained Minshom Abbey. It all

looked remarkably the same. The passage of the last ten years

was a tiny stitch in the rich tapestry of the land and the fate of

the four-hundred-year-old house and grounds. Gray stone walls

marked the boundaries of the ancient fields. Sheep grazed on the

green grass, and in the distance he could plainly hear the lowing

of the dairy herd and the raucous cry of the resident cockerel

from the home farm.

Home.

He allowed his horse to amble slowly through the small

village, nodded amiably at anyone who saw him, noting the

surprise on their faces as they recognized him. In a place as tiny

as this, news carried as fast as the wind. He reckoned by the time

he reached the big house, Jane would know he was coming.

He didn’t want to see her yet. He had more pressing business

to attend to, so he took the back way around the side of the old

cloisters, which led directly to the stable yard. His keen eye noted

the new roof, the improved drainage, the rebuilt home farm on

the horizon. Since he’d taken control of the family finances, he’d

poured money back into the estate, and it was gratifying to see it

bear fruit, to see his childhood home glowing like a well-polished

jewel.

«Master Blaize?»

«Mr. Taylor. How are you?»

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Minshom dismounted and turned to greet the elderly

coachman who had first taught him to ride as a child. Taylor’s

hair was pure white now, his blue eyes dimmed, but the pleasure

on his face couldn’t be disguised. For the first time, Minshom

considered the betrayal that his staying away from the abbey had

been to all his tenants. Jane wasn’t the only person he’d left

behind.

«I’m fine, young master, apart from a gouty leg.»

«Yet you still look as fit as a fiddle.»

Taylor grinned to display several rotting teeth. «Get along with

you. You always had a silver tongue and I see nothing has

changed.»

Minshom found himself smiling back at the old man. He had

nothing to hide here. He was accepted just because he’d been

born in the house and always had been part of the fabric of

Taylor’s life. Something inside him relaxed.

«Have you come to stay for a while this time, sir?»

«I hope so.» Minshom loosened his horse’s girth and buckled

up his stirrups. «It depends.»

«Well I can tell you that her ladyship will be pleased to see

you.» Taylor nudged Minshom in the ribs. «I believe she has

some news for you.»

«Really.» Minshom handed the reins over to Taylor, who

passed them on to a younger man who took the horse away. «I

wonder what that can be?»

Taylor’s face creased into a smile and then he winked

elaborately. «I’m not telling, sir. It wouldn’t be my place, but it’s

exciting, isn’t it?»

Minshom took off his gloves and walked toward the side

entrance of the house. «I’m sure it is.» He paused at the door. «Is

my father still in the earl’s suite?»

«Aye, sir.» Taylor’s face sobered. «He’s not looking so well

these days. He’ll be right glad to see you though.»

264 /
Kate Pearce

Minshom doubted that, but he kept smiling and found his way

through the maze of small crooked corridors and unexpected

rooms into the more modern part of the house where the state

apartments, once readied for Queen Elizabeth, were situated.

As he walked, stone flagstones changed to polished wood

floors and Turkish rugs, ceilings lost their open beams and

became molded plaster and gilded with gold. He stopped in the

largest of the anterooms and took a deep steadying breath. Ahead

of him was a set of double doors that led into the earl and

countess of Swanford chambers. His parents’ chambers, his

father’s living tomb.

He put down his hat, gloves and riding whip on one of the

small gold tables and patted down his dusty clothing. He knew he

was prevaricating, but it seemed almost impossible to move

forward, to knock on the door and ask whoever had the dubious

pleasure of looking after his father these days to let him in. It was

one of those rare moments when he wished he truly believed in

God and could pray for help. Instead, he pictured Jane’s face and

raised his hand to the door panel.

No one answered, so he opened the door and went inside. It

was dark as a tomb and he immediately collided with a chair.

After setting it to rights, the first thing that hit him was the

stench of uncirculated air, of human waste, of old flesh. He

instinctively recoiled as he tried to remember the layout of the

rooms in front of him.

To his left, the door into the Earl’s suite was open, and he

could just make out the lines of the ornate four-poster bed with

its gold and red silk hangings. He made his way forward, pausing

in the doorway when he heard strenuous breathing coming from

the bed.

Minshom frowned into the gloom. Where were the attendants

he paid for? He couldn’t believe that Jane would abandon the old

man either. He walked carefully across to the windows and

opened one of the sets of curtains a crack. A narrow stream of

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light patterned the faded carpet and illuminated the figure on the

bed.

Holding his breath, Minshom forced himself to walk forward

and peer at his father’s face. Pale blue eyes that matched his own

opened and he stared deep into them.

«Papa?» The boyhood name slipped past his lips before he

realized it. «Do you recognize me?»

There was no response. He forced himself to hold his father’s

gaze, watched as recognition dawned and his father’s mouth

contorted with the effort to form a coherent sound.

«Son...»

«Yes. It’s me. How are you?» God, what an inane thing to say

to a man who was obviously bedridden and dying.

Blaize looked around for a chair. As his eyes grew accustomed

to the lack of light he noticed other things about his father and

the bedchamber. The bedclothes were spotless, the room clean

and free of clutter. The taint of sickness overwhelming

Minshom’s senses came from his father, not his surroundings.

He’d always thought of his father as a big man, but the body

beneath the covers barely raised them at all. He looked as if he

had wasted away to almost nothing, his breathing so shallow

Minshom could hardly hear it above the loud beating of his own

heart. Gently, Minshom took hold of the gnarled hand on the

counterpane. After the second stroke, the right side of his

father’s body had stiffened and petrified as if paralyzed by the

Gods. He’d never regained full use of it.

Minshom cleared his throat and leaned closer to his father’s

ear. «I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long.»

A muscle twitched in the earl’s half-frozen face, but he didn’t

attempt to speak again. Minshom squeezed his hand. «I know

we’ve had our differences in the past, but...» But what? What the

devil was he supposed to say now? I love you, I’m sorry? But he

didn’t feel like saying those things; in truth, like a child, he