“Do you think my cousin will come?” Christopher asked softly.
Maxim chuckled. “Not too many people would dare to refuse an invitation from the powerful Duke of Wulferston. Besides,” he added in a hard voice, “some of Stonyhurst’s ‘friends’ are standing in readiness to escort the bogus earl from Hampshire House to this one if he should choose to decline or ignore that invitation.”
Christopher had a whole new impression of Maxim’s closest friends after the conversation with them two days ago in Maxim’s home.
Stonyhurst’s outwardly pleasant and calm demeanor had been shown as being only a veneer over the steeliness of his true nature. A nature which had proven to be every bit as ruthless and determined as Wulferston’s blatant arrogance.
Christopher still had difficulty believing the disdainful Wulferston was a member of Parliament, for Law and Order of all things, but he had no reason to doubt it as being the truth.
During that conversation two days ago, it had been decided that the Earl of Stonyhurst’s plan for them all to speak with Christopher’s cousin George in person was the right one.
Enquiries told them that—surprise, surprise—George Brooks-Hamilton was currently in residence at the Hampshire family’s London home.
Rather than confront the other man in his club or in public, it was decided that Wulferston should be the one to issue the invitation for the other man to call upon him at Wulferston House. Even if George should suspect the reason for that invitation, it was to be hoped he would not dare to refuse to present himself at the home of a duke and member of the Prince Regent’s parliament.
Anticipating the arrival of George Brooks-Hamilton, the four of them were currently seated in the austere library in Wulferston House. Maxim’s tailor had been engaged two days ago to fashion jacket and trousers suitable for Christopher, the real Earl of Hampshire, to wear for the meeting.
Today’s tension aside, the past two days and nights had been the happiest Christopher had ever known. He and Maxim had spent all that time together, talking, eating, but most of all making love for many pleasurable hours.
If they could now find a way in which Christopher could continue to be with Maxim, he would be forever grateful.
Except he could not see a way in which he could do that without some harm befalling his cousin. Much as Christopher disliked George, and despite what his cousin had done to him a year ago, Christopher could never agree to him being harmed in any way.
“The Earl of Hampshire is here to see you, Your Grace.”
Christopher physically startled as Wulferston’s butler made the announcement, and his heart began beating at twice its normal rate as he and Maxim moved to stand, as previously discussed, to hide behind one of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases jutting out into the middle of the room. It was believed best if only Wulferston and Stonyhurst greeted George to begin with.
“Stay calm, love,” Maxim murmured softly as he placed his hand over Christopher’s. “All will be well, I assure you.”
“But—”
“Shh, my love.” Maxim’s lips claimed Christopher’s at the same time as he heard Wulferston instruct his butler to show George Brooks-Hamilton into the library.
There followed the usual polite greetings, and then a lengthy silence. Maxim knew Wulferston well enough to understand his steely gaze leveled on his visitor would deliberately increase the other man’s discomfort.
“I believe you were the one to request this meeting, Wulferston,” Brooks-Hamilton finally challenged.
“As I outrank you, you will address me as Your Grace,” Wulferston bit out coldly.
“Very well, Your Grace,” the other man accepted tersely. “Now could we get to the point of my being here? I have many other things requiring my time today.”
“Really?” Stonyhurst spoke pleasantly. “Do you feel a need to hurry off and have someone else murdered this afternoon?”
Maxim gave Christopher’s hand a restraining squeeze as his young lover’s eyes looked as if they might bulge from his head. He knew that using this double-edged sword of nice and unpleasant was exactly how Wulferston and Stonyhurst had been so successful in gaining information from the French for so many years.
“What on earth are you talking about?” Brooks-Hamilton snapped his indignation.
“Oh your original plan was clever enough, I grant you that,” Stonyhurst continued pleasantly. “And it might have continued to succeed if not for one salient fact.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about,” the other man dismissed. “Wulfer— Your Grace,” he corrected, after no doubt receiving another warning glare from the duke. “I believe your associate to be in need of the attention of a doctor.”
“And I believe you might be the one in need of that gentleman’s attention if we should allow the Duke of Lancaster to take over this discussion in our stead,” Wulferston drawled.
“I am not even acquainted with the Duke of Lancaster.”
“But he, unfortunately for you, is well aware of you,” Stonyhurst taunted.
“I have no idea why that should be so—”
“Enough of this pretense, Brooks-Hamilton,” Wulferston snapped. “Did you or did you not blackmail your own cousin, using false evidence, into relinquishing his title to you? Think very carefully before you attempt to deny it,” he warned softly.
There was a heartbeat of silence before George spoke again. “I fear you are mistaken—”
“Did you or did you not have the Smith brothers put to death merely for being in the way when you wished to set fire to the Apollo Club, knowing your cousin was inside?” Wulferston persisted.
“These are all scandalous accusations—”
“None of which you have yet denied.” The duke snorted. “Because you cannot. You blackmailed your cousin and took over his title. When you learned of his presence in London, you waited until the opportune moment and arranged for him to die in the fire, which completely destroyed the Apollo Club. You almost killed the two of us in that fire as well, I might add, along with the Duke of Lancaster and one of our employees, Henry Black,” he added grimly.
“You are all perverted—”
The false earl’s words had been deliberately cut off rather than the man falling silent, Maxim and Christopher realized after chancing a glance around the bookcase. Wulferston, obviously tired of the other man’s evasion, now had a hand about Brooks-Hamilton’s throat as he held him pressed up against another one of the bookcases.
“Never think that I am in the least like your kind and gentle cousin,” Wulferston snarled in the other man’s face. “Own up to the truth and I might stop Lancaster from killing you. Continue with this evasion and denial, and I will simply sit back and allow him to beat you to death.”
“That salient fact I mentioned?” Stonyhurst put in lightly. “It is that Christopher is our much-loved friend and a part of our family. And we do not allow scum like you to blackmail or hurt our friends and family,” he added in a hard voice.
“Christopher is dead,” Brooks-Hamilton dismissed triumphantly.
Maxim released Christopher’s hand before the two of them stepped out from behind the bookcase.
“Good afternoon, coz,” Christopher greeted.
In that moment, Maxim could not have been prouder of his lover for the confident way he greeted his cousin, even though Maxim could see he was also shaking at the confrontation.
Brooks-Hamilton’s eyes widened, then rolled back in his head before he fainted dead away.
“Why could you simply not have remained gone? Or died in the fire I set after I realized you were still living in London?” George, once recovered from his faint, was now secured in an armchair and staring at Christopher as if he truly was a ghost.
His smile was rueful. “I can only surmise it is because it was not my time to die.” He glanced up and smiled at Maxim, having absolutely no doubt that if Maxim would follow him and bring him back from the fires of hell, that Christopher would gladly do the same for him.
Maxim returned that smile for several seconds before his face hardened as he turned to George. “You now have two choices. You can agree to leave the country, never to return. Or you can remain here and be charged with two murders and the attempted murder of five other people by setting fire to the building you knew they were in at the time.”
“You deserved to die!” George spat the words at them, his face twisted in disgust. “Perverts and pederasts, all of you. Which I will gladly tell the authorities when I have you arrested for that crime—”
“I am the authority here.” Wulferston’s voice was dangerously soft. “In your case, I will happily be judge, jury, and hangman.”
George’s face paled. “You cannot do that.”
“Who is to stop me?” Wulferston taunted.
“You are a member of the Prince Regent’s government.”
“That I am.” The duke nodded. “A well-respected and valued member of that government. Which,” he continued before George could interrupt, “means it would be your word against mine if you cared to level any of those accusations. As Prinny is a personal friend of mine, and you have clearly already usurped your cousin’s title by foul means, I have no doubt which of us will be believed. There is also the matter of your having ordered the death of the Smith brothers, and your attempt to kill your cousin as well as the three of us. Prinny does not look favorably upon thieves and murderers. In fact, once I have related the facts of the case to him, I doubt you will even see the inside of a prison but go straight to the gallows.”
Christopher watched as his cousin’s face grew paler and paler, until it was now a sickly shade of gray. “I should accept the duke’s first choice if I were you, George.”
“I… But… How did you escape the fire?” His cousin glared at him. “You should have died, damn it.” His expression was fierce.
Maxim stepped forward, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “If he had, then as soon as I knew the circumstances, I would have ensured that you met your end too. Painfully. My advice is that you agree to leave England posthaste.”
“My family—”
“Is the same as mine,” Christopher reminded. “There is only our grandmother, and she does not even recognize us anymore.”
George’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “But where will I go?”
“I own a plantation in the West Indies which is in need of an undermanager, if you are interested,” Stonyhurst suggested.
“Or alternatively, I own a diamond mine in Africa which is always in need of an extra hand or two,” Wulferston taunted.
“I own several ships that are always in need of deckhands—”
“I will go to the plantation in the Indies,” George interrupted.
Stonyhurst nodded. “On the understanding that you accept you are the undermanager and nothing else.”
Anger warred with defeat in George’s visage before he released a shaky breath and nodded his head.
“What your cousin does not know is that the manager of Stonyhurst’s plantation is also a lover of men,” Maxim told Christopher once the two of them were back in Lancaster House and alone in Maxim’s bedchamber, which, for the last week, had been their bedchamber. “And he and his partner have little patience with bigotry and intolerance in that regard.”
Christopher winced. “Poor George.”
Maxim smiled lovingly across the room at him. “You really are the gentlest and kindest man I have ever known.”
“I’m not sure about that. I’m certainly pleased that it is all over.” He knew that Wulferston and Stonyhurst were even now ensuring George sailed on the next ship departing for the Indies. “But what will happen to the two of us now that I am once again the Earl of Hampshire?” It was a worry that had plagued Christopher ever since it was decided by the three friends that his title should be returned to him.
As Christopher Brooks, he was free to love and be with Maxim, albeit behind closed and locked doors. As the earl, he had estates and responsibilities of his own which would require him to spend time away from Maxim.
“What would you like to happen?” Maxim probed softly.
Christopher quickly crossed the room to put his arms about his lover’s waist and rest his head upon his chest. “I only wish to stay with you.”
Maxim smiled warmly. “Then you shall.”
“How?”
“In the same way that my friend the Duke of Sheffield and the Earl of Chelmsford are together.”
Christopher lifted is head to look at him quizzically. “And how is that?”
Maxim wondered if it was too soon for him to make Christopher the offer he wished to.
If Christopher was not too young still to commit himself so fully to a man he had known a matter of weeks…
Toby, the Earl of Chelmsford, was only a year or so older than Christopher, Maxim reminded himself, and Sheffield had not hesitated to ask him this same question, nor Toby to accept.
But what if he asked and Christopher said no?
Where would that leave the two of them then?
Together, but with an end to their relationship looming sometime in the future?
Maxim wanted to bind Christopher to him by any and every means possible, but at the same time, he did not wish to tie his lover to him in such a way that Christopher felt trapped—
“Maxim?” Christopher looked distressed by his continued silence.
“Do you remember that I spent the week away from London last month?”
“Yes, and I missed you dreadfully while you were gone.”
Maxim’s heart was so full of love for this young man. “I was attending the church blessing on the relationship of my friend, the Duke of Sheffield, to the Earl of Chelmsford on the duke’s estate in Kent.”
“I remember the earl and remember that he and the duke were here on the evening I was…that the chef—”
“Think of that time no more, my love,” Maxim pleaded. “No one shall ever harm you again whilst we are together.”
Christopher pulled away from him. “But how long will that be for?” His hands twisted together. “Until you tire of me? Until our arrangement is no longer convenient? Or you wish for someone new in your bed?” Tears glittered in those deep-blue eyes.
Maxim frowned at the realization Christopher was as insecure in their present arrangement as he was. Well, no more. He would ask the question that needed asking, and if Christopher did say no, for whatever reason, he would simply ask him again, and again, until he said yes.
Christopher’s eyes widened as Maxim fell gracefully to his knees in front of him. “What—”
“Hush, love,” Maxim encouraged gently as he took one of Christopher’s hands in his. “As you know, men such as we cannot marry each other in law. But on Sheffield’s estate in Kent is a pastor who does not share that belief. He is of a mind that love is love.”
Christopher’s mouth was so dry, he could barely speak. “He is a wise man.”
“Very,” Maxim confirmed. “I am sure he will, if we wish it, bind the two of us together in a church blessing that is as sacred as any marriage.”
“Maxim…?”
“Will you marry me in this manner?” He gazed directly into Christopher’s eyes. “Even if you will not, I promise that I will love and cherish you, and only you, for the rest of my life.”
Christopher dropped to his knees in front of Maxim, tears falling freely down his cheeks. “I would be honored to be your husband and to have you as mine.”
“My love.” Maxim gathered him into his arms and claimed Christopher as Christopher claimed him, heart, body, and soul.