Chapter 18

As their carriage approached Almack’s, Andrew kept a steady eye on Jeremy. He had been jumpy the entire ride, and Andrew knew why—this assembly was hosted by Lady Dersingham. Jeremy had nothing to worry about, though. He could hold his own. His past few appearances at dinners and gatherings had proven that. Since Lady Cowper’s salon two weeks prior, he had become more confident and outgoing. Soon everyone would see the Jeremy Andrew had known all along.

Trailing his eyes down Jeremy’s body, he couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Everything from Jeremy’s jet black tailcoat to his shiny leather shoes looked as though it had been made specifically for him. Andrew frowned, then. The shoes were new. They had to be. Like the waist coat at Lady Hasting’s party, and the tailcoat at the Eccentric’s meeting, Andrew had never seen it before in his life.

“Are those new shoes?” he asked.

Jeremy looked down, then back up. “These? Yes. I picked them up from Hoby’s a few days ago.”

As far as Andrew knew, the reverend had given Jeremy little in the way of pocket money, and Andrew had yet to pay him for the portrait, which was nearly complete.

“I see.” Andrew chose his words with care. “Did you win a spectacular hand at the tables that I wasn’t aware of?”

“I was under the impression that the peerage didn’t discuss money matters,” Jeremy said with a smirk.

The boy was playing him, Andrew could tell. Every line in his body suggested he was teasing Andrew, and yet, this was not a laughing matter. Either Jeremy had recently come into a sum of money that he wasn’t sharing with Andrew, or he had found someone willing to pay for his fine things. At what cost? They had promised to warn the other if their arrangement had changed.

“Don’t they look nice? I was incredibly pleased with how they turned out.”

The carriage pulled to a halt, and Jeremy exited first, leaving Andrew frustrated and concerned. He didn’t want to believe that Jeremy was seeing someone else, but he certainly had the opportunity to, with Andrew away at Westminster nearly every day. No, if the arrangement had changed, Jeremy would have told Andrew.

He climbed from the carriage and headed inside. Jeremy had paused in the reception room, glancing around.

“Looking for anyone in particular?” Andrew asked.

“No.” The response came far too quickly. “No, of course not. I just wondered if anyone else we know will be here tonight.”

“I see. Thaddeus won’t be here. He’s keeping Oliver company tonight.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Company?”

“Not that sort. As far as I know, Percy should be here, though.”

They moved up in line, and Jeremy’s pale skin turned ashy. Only three individuals separated them from Lady Dersingham.

“Breathe. You need only bow and say something polite, then you can ignore her for the rest of the evening.”

Some of the colour flooded back into Jeremy’s cheeks. “Perfect.”

He could understand why Jeremy didn’t care for her, given their past interaction. Still, he needed to be civil, for both their sake.  

“I have wondered, what happened to Lord Dersingham, if I might ask?”

“Apoplexy. Lord Dersingham was rather fond of the buffet table, as it were.”

Their conversation was interrupted as the line moved forward and it was their turn to greet Lady Dersingham. Andrew took the lead, acting as an intermediary, while their names were read by a tall gentleman behind her.

“Lady Dersingham, so good to see you again,” he said.

Both men bowed, while Lady Dersingham curtseyed. She stared up at Andrew through thick lashes, a smirk playing across her lips.

“Lord Cardwell, the pleasure is mine.” Her voice was nearly a purr. “I’m so pleased you could come.”

“Of course. You remember Mr. Leighton.”

“Pleasure,” she said, her eyes sliding right over him.

Andrew knew a snub when he saw one. As Jeremy’s smile wilted, he took the man by the arm.

“Perhaps we’ll see you later this evening.”

“Oh, I look forward to seeing you again, Lord Cardwell.”

As they passed through the doors, Andrew pulled Jeremy to the side. The boy was practically shaking.

“I would advise you to keep your composure,” he said.

“She looked right through me, as though I wasn’t even standing there.”

“Unfortunately, you’ll run into others like her. Not everyone is as accepting as the Eccentrics or Lady Cowper.”

Jeremy stared at him, his expression somewhere between shocked and outraged. “Are you honestly going to make excuses for her, Andrew? I thought I was your friend.”

“You are my friend.”

“Would you be making excuses for her if she had done that to Percy?”

The question made his stomach churn. No, he wouldn’t have made excuses for her, then. At the same time, she would never have snubbed Percy in the first place, because he was on her level.

“Forgive me,” he said quietly. “I will speak with her and let her know her behaviour was inappropriate. For the moment, I would encourage you to find a dance partner. Enjoy your time here. Mingle. You’ve become rather good at it over the past few assemblies.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I do. You’ll have patrons lining up for your services before too long.”

And when they did eventually line up, Andrew would have to accept that. He watched as Jeremy headed into the crowd, almost immediately striking up conversation with Lady Cowper. At least he was among friends.

It became abundantly clear early on in the evening that Lady Dersingham had every intention of remaining close to him. They danced two sets together, though Andrew refused to ask for a third.  He knew that she believed they would be engaged by the end of the Season, even if that wasn’t the case. Where he had been monopolised by Lady Dersingham, Jeremy was doing remarkably well. He danced with everyone from first year debutants to happily married marchionesses, to the wallflowers, who sat in a corner by themselves. Andrew kept an eye on him throughout much of the evening, wishing that he could be the one in Jeremy’s arms, leading him through the steps.

Sitting at one of the empty tables, he watched as Jeremy led yet another pretty young girl around the floor. She was handsome enough, with honey coloured curls and a trim figure, but with no dowry, she’d no prospects of marriage. This was the third year Andrew had seen her during the Season.

“If you’re looking for a reprieve from your lovely Lady Dersingham, you’ll want to avoid the punch table.” Percy dropped into one of the free chairs at the table.

“She’s hardly mine,” Andrew retorted. “And I fully intend for her not to be.”

“Oh? A far cry from the last time we spoke on the subject.”

“I realised I could not marry her and make either of us happy.”

“And Avery?” Percy asked.

“I’ve written my solicitor to look into the entailment.”

“I see. Andrew, has this anything to do with a certain redheaded artist?”

His response was cut short as Jeremy approached them and sat down in the remaining chair. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright.

“Miss Marsden is one of the most exquisite women I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting,” he said breathlessly.

“It is a shame about her lack of dowry,” Andrew said. “She would make a fine wife indeed.”

“You’re not thinking of marrying her, then, are you?” Percy teased.

“Definitely not. I merely meant that she has many estimable qualities.”

The next dance started, a soft cotillion, and Andrew stood, unable to contain himself any longer. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Jeremy’s ear as he spoke.

“Follow me.”

Just off the main assembly room was a small coat room. It was close enough that the music could still be heard, yet private enough that the two of them wouldn’t be disturbed. As soon as Jeremy was inside, Andrew closed the door behind them.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” he said quietly. “Seeing you dancing with all of those pretty women. I wanted to be the one leading you through the steps.”

He bowed to Jeremy, then held out his hand.

“Will you dance with me?”

Jeremy stared only a moment before taking the hand. “Of course.”

They moved in time to the music, forward and back, before Andrew finally took Jeremy in his arms. The contact was far too brief, though, as the steps changed again, and Jeremy pulled away. Jeremy stumbled over a few of the steps, which was understandable, as they were meant to be part of a larger group. But there was something about the intimacy of being alone and being able to dance with one another, free from any scrutiny, that Andrew couldn’t get enough of. Even after the music faded, they stood, staring at one another. Then Andrew closed the distance between them and pulled Jeremy into his arms.

The kiss started fairly chaste, a gentle brush of lip, though it quickly grew heated. Jeremy licked his way inside Andrew’s mouth and he was lost. He clutched at Jeremy’s lapels, pulling him closer. A groan escaped him, but the noise was swallowed by the kiss. When Andrew finally broke the kiss, he dragged his lips up the pale column of Jeremy’s neck, working a leg in between both of the younger man’s. Jeremy’s scent was mouth-watering—orange and musk and something Andrew couldn’t quite place. He wanted to taste every inch of Jeremy and draw their pleasure out as long as possible, but that wasn’t possible here. As Andrew sucked on Jeremy’s earlobe, Jeremy let out a low cry.

“Quiet,” Andrew growled, “or you’ll have us in a position neither one of us can afford to be in.”

A scandal would be bad enough with a lady. At least in that scenario, one would have the option to do the honourable thing and marry her. In their case, though, there was no honourable course of action. They would both be hanged.

Jeremy nodded, gritting his teeth. Every muscle strained against Andrew’s touch. Smirking, Andrew palmed the front of his breeches.

“Had we the time, I would take you right here and now. I would show you just how quick a fucking can be.” He grazed his teeth over the shell of Jeremy’s ear. “You would see, then, just how difficult it is to keep your cool when you walked out of your lover’s arms and back into a crowd full of people. You’d see how the feeling stays with you through every dance and every conversation.”

Whimpering, Jeremy pressed against his palm. “Please.”

“I do love to see you beg so beautifully,” Andrew purred. “Do it again.”

“Please.” The word was drawn out as Jeremy met his gaze.

Wordlessly, Andrew unbuttoned the falls of Jeremy’s breeches and wrapped a hand around his cock.

“Quietly,” he said firmly.

One wrong move and they were both fucked, and not in the pleasurable way. Jeremy nodded, his fingers scrabbling at the front of Andrew’s breeches. He bit back a groan as the boy pulled him in for another kiss, stroking in time with Andrew. Every nerve tingled as he thrust into Jeremy’s hand. He’d gotten much better during their time together, and Andrew took pride in being the one to teach him. All too soon, he felt himself nearing the edge, his toes curled in his shoes. Jeremy squeezed his eyes shut, pleasure written all over his features as he moaned.

A voice outside the door caught his attention and he froze, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Andrew placed a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, then flicked his gaze to the door. A single male voice drew closer. The mutter grew louder as the speaker approached the door, then both the speaking and the footsteps stopped. Andrew braced himself for the worst, but it never came. Instead, the voice grew distant, and he released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Amazingly, his cock was still hard.

“Now I see why you said quietly,” Jeremy said with a small grin.

Andrew huffed out a laugh and kissed him again. This time, he wrapped his hand around both their cocks, the movement providing a delicious friction. As the sensitive head brushed against Jeremy's, he hissed, his eyes fluttering shut. With each stroke, he twisted his wrist, the movement slick from their combined precome. Jeremy groaned, his muscles quivered underneath him, and Andrew could tell that he was getting close. With his free hand, he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat and covered them. The next instant, Jeremy's body tensed as he spilled his release in the cloth, and Andrew followed almost immediately after, his orgasm coursing through him.

Resting against Jeremy, Andrew breathed heavily as he came down from his high. It had been years since he had done such an impulsive thing, and the danger of it was not lost on him. Surprisingly, though, it had only spurred him on.

“I see what you meant now,” Jeremy said, breaking through his thoughts.

“About what?”

“The first time we were together, you told me that it could be hard and fast in the corridor of a ball. I thought you were teasing.”

Andrew laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jeremy’s lips. “I tease about a great many things, but sex is not one of them.”

Carefully, he tucked the handkerchief back in his pocket.

“I suggest we return to the assembly before our absence is noted. Although I have to say I am very much looking forward to a repeat performance when we get home.” He straightened his tailcoat and looked back at Jeremy. “Wait a few minutes before following me out.”

***

As he exited the closet, Jeremy could still feel the aftereffects of their lovemaking. Every nerve in his body was on edge, as though everyone knew what they had done.

He made his way back to the assembly hall, scanning the room for a new partner. Lady Cowper met his eye and he started toward her, but he was cut off by a large, imposing figure.

“Take a walk with me.”

The forceful tone sent a shiver down Jeremy’s spine, and he looked up to see that it was Stanhope who blocked his path.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he answered.

Stanhope smiled, but his eyes remained cold. “I don’t believe you get a say in what’s a good idea. Now if you do not wish to make things harder on yourself, I suggest you take a walk with me.”

Everything in Jeremy protested, but he forced himself to follow Stanhope. The portly man led him back out of the main room, into an alcove. The lights were dimmer here, and though the music was still audible, they were far enough away from the crowd that no one would overhear them.

“I’ve been meaning to get you away from Cardwell for some time now,” Stanhope said.

“Is that so?” Jeremy crossed his arms, hoping Stanhope couldn’t hear his heart racing. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Oh, but we both know that isn’t quite true. Lord Cardwell is rather protective of his friends.” Stanhope drew out the end of the word.

A cold chill coursed through Jeremy, but he refused to lower his gaze. “I can’t say I know what you mean by that.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Is there a point to this conversation, or am I to be kept from the ball for no reason whatsoever? Lady Cowper was hoping to speak to me, and I don’t wish to leave her waiting.”

Stanhope flushed. His bulbous nose turned purple and his sideburns quivered. “As it happens, I have a proposition for you—a formal offer of patronage.”

“Patronage,” Jeremy repeated. He chewed the inside of his lip. “Why should I be tempted to accept this offer of patronage? I have other offers. Lady Cowper has suggested recently that she would be more than pleased to take me on as an artist.”

She’d done no such thing, but Stanhope didn’t need to know that. Stanhope was the last person in the world he would ever consider for his patron.

“You’re to refuse her. Explain that you’ve received another offer that you’ve accepted.”

“Again, why should I accept your offer over hers? Or any of the others I’ve received?”

“Because of what I witnessed between yourself and Lord Cardwell tonight.”

Jeremy felt the blood drain from his face. The music faded, leaving only a high pitched ringing in his ears. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“As I said, I had hoped to speak with you sooner. I confirmed with Lady Dersingham that you were, indeed, in attendance, then set about trying to find you. When I discovered that neither you nor Lord Cardwell were present in the assembly hall, I thought I might try to find you elsewhere. Instead, I heard—well, I’m sure you know by now what I heard.”

He did, indeed. Stanhope had been the voice outside the coat closet.

“I couldn’t possibly know what you heard.” His voice was strained in his own ears.

Stanhope leered at him. “Do you take me for a fool? I heard two individuals engaged in rather amorous activity.”

Jeremy fought to remain calm. “What people do in their own time is of no consequence to me—”

“Except that it was you, wasn’t it? You and Lord Cardwell were the ones inside that closet.”

“What makes you believe that?”

“As I said before, the two of you, while present, were nowhere to be found. You both conveniently reappeared within minutes of each other.”

There was nothing to be done except deny the accusations. Too much was at stake. If the rumour started that he was a sodomite, it would not only ruin his reputation, but Andrew’s as well. While his father didn’t pay much attention to the gossip from London, it would be impossible to keep that news from reaching him. Jeremy would lose everything, and so would Andrew.

“Your assumption is both offensive and inaccurate. Furthermore, I must confess that your obsession with my relationship to Lord Cardwell is more than slightly disturbing.”

Stanhope’s cheeks turned a deep puce. “You dare suggest that I share in your disgusting perversion?”

The words stung, but Jeremy did his best to ignore them. “You dare suggest that I partake in such a perversion at all.”

“I do indeed.” The man smiled again, though it hardly put Jeremy at ease. “I’ll give you a choice. Either you accept my offer of patronage, or I reveal that you and Lord Cardwell are engaging in unnatural and unlawful activities. I doubt Lady Cowper would be so keen to take you on if she found out you were a sodomite.”

The room spun in front of him. Even though Stanhope had no concrete proof, the mere hint of a scandal would be enough to send any potential patron running. Not to mention it would destroy Andrew’s reputation as a war hero. Oddly enough, Phoebe came to mind. What would she have to say when she learned that not only was her cousin unconventional, but a sodomite as well? Like everyone else, she would likely turn her back on them. Lady Dersingham would want nothing more to do with Andrew. There was Thea to think of, as well. The rumour mill was vicious, and such buzz was unlikely to die down by the time she presented in society next year. The entire family would be disgraced.

“Why are you doing this?” The words scraped against the back of Jeremy’s throat.

Thaddeus had mentioned the long-running feud between the Lord Cardwells and Stanhope, but certainly that couldn’t be it. The Act had passed years ago, and Richard Cardwell was dead. That should have been the end of it. Certainly Stanhope didn’t mean to enact his revenge this way. The man stared at him, contempt written in his features. His eyes held a crazed gleam, one that made Jeremy truly fearful.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Stanhope said.

Jeremy didn’t know what he had expected Stanhope to say. It wasn’t as though he would admit to any nefarious reasoning. This wasn’t some mystery novel, and Stanhope was no evil villain, even if it felt as though he were. No, no one was going to sweep in and save him at the last minute. He had to make it through this on his own. Realizing the man still spoke, Jeremy did his best to listen.

“…realise that you’ll need time to consider my offer. How about I give you a week to mull it over? If I haven’t heard from you by next Thursday, I’ll assume you’ve rejected my offer. I suggest that you make your decision wisely.”

He turned on his heel and left Jeremy still reeling. Blindly, he reached out, grabbing hold of a nearby table. In the background, the orchestra still played, but Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to go back out yet. Bile hit the back of his throat, but he swallowed it back down. All the happiness from before had fizzled, leaving only the hollow pit of fear. One week. He had exactly seven days to decide whether to give in to Stanhope’s blackmail or force Andrew and himself to pay the price.