The duke, instantly gauging the situation, rose hastily to his feet to quickly cross the room to go behind the screen there and gather up the china bowl used for washing. He strode back just in time to place the bowl beneath Christopher’s mouth as he was violently ill.
Christopher’s humiliation, already so tangible, became absolute when he heaved up what little he had in his stomach whilst the duke continued to hold the bowl for him. Even if the older man’s other arm was a warm weight of comfort about his waist to help steady him.
A quick glance at the duke’s face revealed a sternly remote visage.
Of course it was, Christopher instantly chided himself.
Maxim felt a responsibility toward Christopher for the injuries he had received, nothing more.
And Christopher had repaid his kindness by showing an inexperienced lack of control over having another man’s hands touching his body. The duke was just being kind in assisting him with the application of the salve, and Christopher had repaid that kindness by becoming inappropriately aroused and then releasing his cum all over the bedcover.
To Christopher’s relief, the duke was too well-mannered to mention the wet patch in which Christopher now sat.
“Feeling better?” the duke prompted gently.
Christopher, realizing he’d been indulging in useless self-pity, which was about to result in actual tears, now avoided meeting the other man’s concerned gaze as he pulled over the other side of the brocade cover to hide his nakedness. “Yes, thank you.”
The duke gave a nod before straightening to carry the bowl into the adjoining dressing room.
It proved impossible, even in Christopher’s sorry state, not to admire how the older man moved with an arresting feline grace. A muscular grace many men, men much more worthy than Christopher, had no doubt admired before him.
His gaze lowered to the floor when the duke returned to the bedside with a wet cloth with which to wipe Christopher’s face. “Thank you,” he accepted huskily. “I would be grateful if I could just rest here until I am feeling a little better.”
“You may rest here for as long as you wish,” Lancaster assured him softly.
Christopher lay back and closed his eyes rather than continue to look at the man who made his heart pound and his cock weep. He kept his eyes closed and evened out his breathing in the hope of giving the impression he’d fallen asleep.
His emotions felt so fragile and his body so battered that a single more thoughtful gesture toward him from the other man would surely break the control he was still exerting not to sob like a babe.
The duke, obviously believing Christopher to be asleep, straightened the bedcover more securely about him before blowing out the candle, leaving the moon shining in through the window as the only light in the room.
Christopher only opened his eyes again once he had heard the door quietly open and then close and knew Maxim had left the bedchamber.
Which was when he could no longer maintain control of his emotions and his breath released in a sob of pain and humiliation and the knowledge he would now definitely have to leave his employment at the Apollo Club. As a consequence he would also be abandoning the only home he currently had. Too much attention had been drawn to him this evening, singling him out and opening him up to further curiosity from the Duke of Lancaster.
He’d noted the duke’s curious gaze on him before tonight, as if certain things about Christopher puzzled him, but this latest incident had brought him fully to the man’s attention.
As for the way in which Christopher had become aroused, and then climaxed…
Christopher gave a humiliated groan merely thinking about that loss of control before firmly turning his thoughts to what to do next. He had earlier heard the duke instruct Henry to keep a watch on the man locked in the storeroom, meaning that the ex-boxer would now be positioned at the back of the club rather than the front as he usually was. The club would still be open, as it rarely closed before three o’clock in the morning, and sometimes as late as four.
That being the case, Christopher should be able to enter through the front door and go upstairs to collect his meager belongings, and then leave again before anyone was the wiser.
He still had some of last week’s wages, so he should be able to find a cheap lodging to tide him over for a short time. Hopefully during that time, he would be able to find another job. He still had money owing to him from this week, but he would have to forgo that if he wanted to completely disappear.
He felt an ache in his chest at the thought of never seeing Maxim Armitage again. He would also miss the people who worked at the Apollo—except Chef Pierre, of course—those other young gentlemen having become the closest thing he had to friends during the past three weeks, most especially the irrepressible Billy.
But Christopher had known when he walked away from his old life that his future would always be as bleak as this. A series of partings from people he had come to care for.
And being alone.
Always alone.
It was full daylight by the time Maxim was woken by the sound of Dolby bringing in his morning breakfast tray. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. Some thought or other he couldn’t quite remember through the haze of the brandy he’d drunk too much of the night before to help him sleep. What—
No, not what, but who!
Christopher.
“I believe the young gentleman left the house sometime during the night, Your Grace.” His butler, Dolby, answered the question Maxim hadn’t even realized he’d spoken out loud. Dolby placed the breakfast tray on the bedside table before crossing the room to pull back the curtains.
“He did what?” Maxim sat up to swing his legs to the floor, his headache forgotten, his thoughts racing.
Christopher was gone? He’d crept away from Lancaster House like a damned thief in the night—
“I believe the silver and other valuables are all still where they are supposed to be, Your Grace,” the butler assured as he returned to the bedside. “It was the first thing I checked when I realized the young gentleman was no longer here.”
Damn it, had Maxim said that out loud too? No doubt. His desire for Christopher seemed to be all-encompassing.
He scowled at the butler. “I did not doubt that for a moment.” He licked the dryness of his lips. “Do you have any idea at what time Chris— Mr. Brooks left, or where he might have gone?”
The butler’s expression remained impassive. “I believe he departed the area on foot in the early hours of this morning, Your Grace. I made so bold as to make enquiries of the cab drivers who frequent this area when I realized Mr. Brooks was no longer in the guest bedchamber. Two of them remembered seeing someone leave this house at two o’clock this morning, but he did not hire either of those gentlemen to drive him where he wished to go.”
Maxim doubted Christopher had the financial means to pay for the hiring of a cab. But the fact he hadn’t done so meant Maxim now had absolutely no idea where he’d gone.
He was deeply concerned for Christopher’s welfare, knowing the young man had not been well enough to take himself home. His injuries had been so severe, he’d barely been able to walk the previous evening.
It didn’t help that I touched Christopher so intimately, he became aroused, and it caused him more pain when he was unable to prevent his body from tensing as his release spilled.
Maxim briefly closed his eyes, almost able to again imagine breathing in the aroma of Christopher’s release.
At the time, Maxim’s own cock had been rock hard, from both touching Christopher and the pungent smell of sex in the air.
And then Christopher had become physically ill.
Dear God, was it possible that had been as a result of having Maxim touch him so intimately?
Maxim had not meant to allow his own desire for Christopher to influence his actions, but perhaps he had failed in that endeavor? To an extent Christopher had wished for nothing more than to escape him at the first opportunity, and had done so by creeping out of the house and disappearing into the night? A departure which Maxim would have remained unaware of as he was in his study at the back of the house and well into his cups by then.
Maxim sighed heavily as he opened his eyes. “Thank you for your assistance on this matter, Dolby. I’m sure Mr. Brooks was fully recovered enough from—from his accident to have made his way home safely,” he added dismissively, not wishing to show his concern to his butler or reveal the real reason he’d brought Christopher home with him.
His servants might suspect his chosen lifestyle, but it was never commented upon, nor did Maxim ever bring the men he had sexual relations with back to any of his ducal homes.
He’d brought Christopher here, he reminded himself.
Yes, he had, but Christopher was different. He cared for the boy—man, damn it—and Christopher had been severely injured and in need of medical treatment.
But did that medical treatment have to come from him?
Yes, it damn well did!
Why?
Maxim refused to answer that and instead only waited until his butler had left the bedchamber before rising to pull on a pair of drawers over his nakedness and begin pacing the length of the room.
He truthfully didn’t know if he was hurt or angry over Christopher’s disappearance. Or perhaps both? Hurt, because he had thought he and Christopher were friends of a sort. Angry, because Christopher had left without so much as saying goodbye.
Was it possible he had frightened Christopher the previous night? None of his applying the salve to his bruises had been unnecessary. The backs of his thighs and bottom were in even more need of that attention than his back had been. Admittedly, Christopher had become aroused by the intimacy of that application between his buttocks, but it had not been deliberately sensual on Maxim’s part—
Now I am lying to myself, Maxim acknowledged heavily.
Christopher had become aroused because the manner in which Maxim had stroked him had been that of a lover rather than someone merely wishing to ease his discomfort. Maxim had enjoyed allowing his palms to cup the delicious globes of Christopher’s arse far too much, and allowing his fingers and thumbs to caress the silky softness of that flesh.
Christopher’s groans of pleasure had only spurred Maxim on to greater intimacy between those delicious globes, resulting in his rutting and release into the bedcover.
Could that be the reason Christopher had decided to leave in the middle of the night?
Had he been shocked at the intimacy and his arousal and wished to remove himself from the possibility of it happening again?
That was more likely to be the case.
Maxim was an experienced man, aged six and thirty, to Christopher’s inexperienced nineteen. Maxim was also a wealthy duke of the realm, and Christopher merely one of the boys employed at the Apollo Club. Their differences in station and wealth far outnumbered any likes or dislikes they might find they had in common.
Maxim was also old enough to know better than to allow himself to be attracted to a man so young and innocent.
A young and innocent man who had left him as soon as he was sure it was safe to do so. Christopher had not run off into the night, but only because he was not well enough to do so.