The Christmas Wager (22 page)

―I had hoped we could marry you off before you stumbled

into a situation where you could be blackmailed or sent to

prison,‖ the duke muttered, taking another drink. ―But you ran

off. And now you‘ve brought one of… your sort… back home

with you!‖

This was all too much. Had his father known Thomas was

the sort of man who liked other men? Even before Thomas had

known himself? Even before
Andrew
had known? Thomas

found that he needed to sit down. Feeling nauseous, he

gingerly felt for the back of the settee and eased himself down

onto the cushions.

―I should have thrown your Mr. Nash out into the snow the

first day he arrived,‖ Barrington went on, ignoring the fact that

there had been no snow on that day. ―But your mother thought

he was handsome and charming, and I couldn‘t tell her why I

wanted him gone without raising her suspicions.‖

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166

―How did you know?‖ Thomas asked quietly, finding

himself unable to deny the accusation his father had leveled

against him.

―I‘ve always known,‖ his father replied, ―ever since you

were a boy. Edward‘s inclinations towards women were

obvious, but you....‖

―I‘ve had… relations with several young women,‖ Thomas

said defensively.

His father snorted. ―It doesn‘t appear to have done you any

good.‖

There was a long silence between them, as the duke took

another drink from the bottle. It had been only half full when

they entered the room, but he emptied it now. Thomas could

tell that he was getting intoxicated by the way he gripped the

mantel with his free hand to keep from swaying.

―I want Mr. Nash gone,‖ the man said, at last, his voice low

and menacing, ―tomorrow morning.‖

This roused Thomas from his shocked state of mind. He

stood up again, and faced his father full on. ―Andrew is my

guest.‖

―He‘s not
my
guest,‖ the duke snapped, ―and he is no

longer welcome in
my
house!‖

―Then I shall leave with him.‖

Furious, the duke smashed the empty whisky bottle in the

fireplace, making the flames spit. He advanced on his son,

jabbing a finger at him.

―I‘m warning you, Thomas. If you return to London with

that boy, it will be the last you ever see of Barrington Hall.‖

―So be it, then.‖

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―I‘ll cut you off. Don‘t think I won‘t! No more lounging

about in your fancy University Club all day. You won‘t have a

penny to your name!‖

Thomas was really beginning to find that threat tedious.

Despite Barrington‘s domineering personality, Thomas was

a bit taller than his father. He glared down his nose at the

man. ―If that‘s the way you want it, Father, then so be it. I love

Andrew, and I‘ll not abandon him to satisfy you. Edward was

foolish enough to do that once, and it cost him his happiness.

I‘d rather die a beggar than ever give Andrew up.‖

With that, he turned and strode away. Unfortunately, he

was cheated of a dramatic exit by the locked door. He was

forced to fiddle with the key for a moment to get out, while his

father shouted after him, ―You‘ll die in prison, is what you‘ll do!

You disgusting pervert!‖

At last, the door swung outward and released Thomas.

―I want you out of this house by noon tomorrow!‖

Thomas slammed the door shut behind him.

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Chapter 27

ANDREW heard the library door slam shut, but whoever had

just come out did not join the others in the dining room. He

heard angry footsteps climbing the main stairs and guessed

that it must be Thomas. Then silence. If the duke had left the

library, he‘d done so quietly, though Andrew suspected the old

goat was still in there.

It disturbed him to think that Thomas was so upset he

wouldn‘t come to dinner. But when he glanced up, he caught

Duchess Barrington‘s eye for just a moment. The woman gave

him an almost imperceptible shake of her head before

returning to the lively conversation Edward and the Hudsons

were having about the upcoming wedding. Clearly, she thought

it wise to give Thomas time to himself after whatever altercation

he‘d just had with his father.

Andrew heeded her wishes, finishing his dinner and

remaining long enough to be polite. But he excused himself

when his hostess and the other guests retired to the drawing

room for sherry.

He found Thomas in his room, sitting sullenly before the

fire. He‘d been nursing a brandy, and it was immediately

apparent that it had begun to go to his head. The slightly

inebriated smile Thomas gave Andrew when he walked in was

all too familiar.

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―We‘ve been asked to leave,‖ Thomas said, gesticulating

with his brandy snifter. ―Tomorrow morning. And I‘ve been cut

off without a ha‘penny.‖

Andrew had been afraid it was something like that. He

sighed and went to stand behind Thomas‘s chair, bending

down to wrap his arms around the man‘s shoulders. ―I‘m so

sorry, Thomas.‖

―I imagine I‘ll survive.‖ Thomas took advantage of the

position they were in to give the blond a quick kiss on the

cheek. ―He knows about us, you realize.‖

Andrew froze. ―I thought this had to do with you defying

him, in regards to Rebecca.‖

―It has to do with me choosing
you
over Rebecca.‖

―I see.‖

Andrew felt a bit nauseous. He straightened, then went to

sit in the other chair, declining the decanter of sherry Thomas

held out to him. ―Do you really think it was wise to admit to

our… indiscretions?‖

―Love, Andrew,‖ Thomas said firmly, as he poured himself

another glass. ―This isn‘t about ‗indiscretions‘.‖ He said the

word with contempt. ―It‘s about love.‖

Andrew smiled faintly. ―Yes. It is. But it‘s cost you dearly.

Perhaps you should have kept silent about it.‖

―Rubbish! But there was no denying it, even had I wished

to. Apparently, my father had me figured out long before I did.‖

―What will you do now?‖

Thomas peered at him through the glass of the snifter as

he swirled the brandy gently. ―I shall go back to London. Then I

imagine I‘ll have to find employment and somewhat cheaper

accommodations. The University Club is a bit expensive.‖

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―Oh, stop talking nonsense!‖ Andrew snapped. ―You know I

won‘t allow you to be thrown out of the Club lodgings.‖

―I‘ve no desire to live off your charity, my love.‖

―And I have no desire to leave the club, or to live apart

from you. I won‘t hear any more of it.‖

Andrew‘s voice had risen in tone of its own accord, and he

feared that the conversation might devolve into an argument.

But Thomas merely smiled at him and took a sip of his brandy.

Then he set the snifter gently down on the small table between

them and said, ―We shall figure out the future when it

happens. For the present, I love you and wish nothing more

than to get you out those clothes.‖

THEY made love, and for a brief time, the sheer joy of exploring

Andrew‘s exquisite body and tasting his satiny, golden skin

made Thomas forget about any trouble the future might hold.

There was only now; only Andrew. And it was wonderful and

magical. Andrew appeared to be more comfortable revealing his

experience with other men, showing him new ways for them to

bring pleasure to each other. To Thomas, it now seemed

impossible that anyone else‘s caress could ever have satisfied

him. He‘d known nothing! All of his years of fumbling in the

dark with women were wiped away with a single kiss from his

golden angel.

Afterward, they lay wrapped in each other‘s embrace,

spent and happy, at least for the present. Then they drifted off

to sleep.

Thomas woke to the sound of something hard striking the

door to the hallway, three times. He‘d forgotten to snuff the

candles before he and Andrew fell asleep, and they were still

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burning. It could hardly have been an hour. Andrew was still in

his arms, looking a bit ashen as he stared at the door.

The pounding came again, and Thomas realized it was the

sound of something metal—such as the head of a cane—

striking the wood of the door.

―Blast!‖ he said under his breath, ―it‘s Father!‖

Andrew made as if to get out of the bed, but before either

of them could move, the door burst open and the duke strode

in. ―Storm out on me, will you? In my own house, no less! Well,

this conversation isn‘t over, my boy—not by a long shot!‖

Thomas could hardly believe his father would be this

obnoxious. But it was clear that the man was extremely drunk.

―Father,‖ he said through gritted teeth, ―I think you‘ve had too

much to drink. Perhaps you should go and sleep it off.‖

―Nonsense!‖ the duke snorted, as he placed himself in one

of the chairs by the fire. ―I feel fine. I‘m wide awake.‖

He pointed at his son with the tip of his cane. ―Get into

your dressing gown and come pour me a whiskey.‖

―I don‘t have any whiskey.‖

―Barbaric! But I‘ll have whatever swill you‘ve got.‖

Thomas angrily grabbed his dressing gown and climbed

out of the bed. There would be no getting rid of the old bastard,

he knew, until the duke got what he wanted.

But when Andrew attempted to get up, Barrington jabbed

the cane in his direction. ―
You
stay where you are. I can

already see that you‘re a fine example of manhood—I don‘t

need further proof.‖

―Really, Father,‖ Thomas said curtly, as Andrew blushed

crimson, ―I don‘t see any reason you need to subject Andrew to

this. If you insist on playing this drama out with me, then so be

it. But allow him to go back to his room.‖

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―He‘ll stay where he is,‖ the duke snarled, snatching the

brandy off the table himself and uncorking it. ―I wish him to

hear this.‖

The man poured himself a glass of the sweet liquor and

sniffed it, making a face. ―How can you drink this?‖

―Be thankful it‘s not sherry,‖ Thomas retorted. He chose to

sit on the bed beside Andrew, rather than join his father at the

fire. His intention was to reassure Andrew in the face of his

formidable father, and he half expected the duke to snarl at

him about it. But the man appeared to have other things on his

mind.

―I suppose so. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Since you‘re

both already tucked in bed—‖

―So to speak.‖

―—perhaps I should tell you a little bedtime story.‖

The duke emptied his glass and set it on the table beside

him. ―Once upon a time, when I was seventeen, we had a

young man in charge of the kennels. He was a handsome lad,

the same age as myself, more or less. A charming Irish boy by

the name of Colin.

―And I loved him dearly.‖

Thomas couldn‘t have been more startled had his father

announced he was running off to become a tinker. Surely, he

didn‘t mean ―love‖ in the way Thomas loved Andrew. Did he

simply mean he loved this boy as a dear friend?

But the duke looked him directly in the eye and nodded.

―Yes. Though you‘d never know it now, I did once love someone

with all of my heart. I would have done anything for Colin. And

he said he would do anything for me. I was never happier than

during that one beautiful year of my life. But my father

intervened.

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―He had no idea just how close Colin and I had become.

But he knew our relationship was… unusual. He ordered Colin

dismissed. My love kissed me good night on a warm August

night, and I woke to find him gone.‖

―Did you go after him?‖ Thomas asked, knowing that he

himself would have done so.

A sad look came into the man‘s eyes, and suddenly

Thomas could see just how old his father truly was. ―I tried. I

ran away, tried to track him down. But he‘d vanished. Nobody

knew where he‘d run off to. Eventually, I got cold and hungry

enough to come back home.