Chapter 7
Maurice paced in his dressing room. What on earth should he wear to dinner tonight?
He wanted to look good for Wildgoose—Sebastian—but he didn’t want to intimidate him by appearing too formal.
He wasn’t used to this consternation over .
.. well, life. He was a goddamned Duke for pity’s sake.
This uncertainty which led to overthinking wasn’t like him at all.
He always knew what he wanted; although to be fair, he knew he wanted Sebastian whose words “You’d best call me Sebastian if we are to fuck” rang louder than the church bells in London.
“Your Grace, perhaps the blue dinner jacket tonight?” His valet, Stennett, held out the option.
Maurice always dressed formally for dinner out of habit, and it served him well when there were always house guests with the habit of turning up at regular intervals.
Those in the ton knew a Duke’s house would always have room to house and feed travellers, and he expected his peers to accommodate him on the same basis when he required it.
“I’m dining in the breakfast room with my stable master tonight.”
Stennett nodded. “Understood, your Grace. Shall we select a less formal ensemble?”
“Please.” Or maybe it didn’t matter since he didn’t intend to wear clothes for very long. Was he being too forward in thinking that? Hope was a curse.
“Like Barbey d'Aurevilly said, the most elegant clothing is a battle between respectability and boredom.” Stennett read too many fashion plates. Maurice preferred the understated fashions that Brummell had made famous, glad to be away from the frills of his youth.
“Perhaps a plain waistcoat and a black tailed jacket?”
Maurice nodded. “Simple is best for tonight.” Less to remove too.
“Understood, your Grace. Now please stop pacing and allow me to dress you.” Stennett reminded of Sebastian’s jest about whether Dukes could dress themselves, and he wanted to prove it, but without Sebastian to observe, it would merely confuse Stennett.
A flush of heat bolted up his spine at the image of Sebastian watching him dress.
He took a new pair of buckskin breeches from Stennett and proceeded to put them on himself, not wanting Stennett anywhere near his nether regions while his thoughts were filled with Sebastian, since his cock had, rather unhelpfully, responded with eagerness to the prospect of kissing Sebastian again.
He then stood still, breathing slowly and trying to think about anything else—the dull drone of his history tutor’s voice at Eton, the number of roses on the plasterwork ceiling, the necessity for installing drainage in the northern fields, the Corn Laws—as Stennett fussed with a fresh linen shirt, collar, cravat, and waistcoat.
Finally, he eased his arms into his jacket and sat down so Stennett could do his hair.
He wanted to look perfect for Wildgoose. For Sebastian.
Because he didn’t want to spend any more time in his dressing room fussing about, Maurice went down early for dinner.
He could always fuss with the breakfast room instead.
But when he pushed the door open, Sebastian was already there, staring out the window as the sun edged its way to the horizon.
Mid-summer meant long days and soft light during the evening, and that light shone around Sebastian’s black hair like a shimmering glow.
Maurice walked over and placed his hand on Sebastian’s lower back.
The fabric of his jacket was a coarse woollen weave, cheap but warm and durable, and then none of that mattered as Sebastian turned around.
Suddenly they were standing much too close for propriety, and not close enough for Maurice’s liking.
“You are early.”
“This is when I eat dinner.”
“So early?” Maurice had no idea that Sebastian might operate on a different schedule to him.
“I like to keep the routine for the horses the same all year around, and by this time in the winter it is becoming too dark for the stable lads to work safely.”
Maurice frowned. “Use candles.”
Sebastian took a step backwards. “Taking aside the cost, candles are not safe in a stable with all the hay and other easily flammable items around. We—”
Maurice knew that. God. He cut Sebastian off with a kiss because it was easier than admitting he’d said something daft.
All his doubts over his clothing had been because he wanted Sebastian to be comfortable with him; he cared about Sebastian’s wellbeing.
They might be Duke and stable master but over the years they’d become friends.
More than that, Maurice respected Sebastian.
Maurice had plenty of power and yet it couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted.
This man. This man was the one he’d been waiting for, yearning for, and he couldn’t make him be here.
He had to wait and yet he couldn’t wait any more.
The benefit of coming down to dinner early was that he had time now and he wasn’t going to waste it with waiting.
“Come to bed with me.”
Sebastian slid his hands down Maurice’s biceps. “I thought we were having dinner.”
“Dinner won’t be served for at least an hour. I’d rather spend that hour in bed than standing here.”
“An hour.” Sebastian swallowed.
“Are you hungry? I can ring for some bread and cheese.”
Sebastian shook his head. “The world is upside down.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are a Duke. You shouldn’t be offering to serve me.”
He could and he would. “The best part of being a Duke is that I can do whatever I want. If I want to get on my knees for you, I can. If I want to take you to bed and fed you cheese, I will.”
“Oh.”
“Come with me.” Maurice would’ve taken Sebastian by the hand and dragged him to his bed, but he wasn’t going to shock Hardwicke with such a lack of decorum in the main halls of the house.
In the privacy of his room, however, was another story.
A passing footman was sent to the kitchen to fetch some bread and cheese and with a message that he would need two hours for this meeting prior to dinner.
“Meeting?” Sebastian asked. “In your bedroom? It’s hardly subtle.”
“How else would you like me to phrase it?” The house staff would already be in an uproar over him inviting Sebastian for dinner, let alone the kitchen knowing that he’d requested bread and cheese in his bedroom.
Like Sebastian said, his intent wasn’t subtle.
He’d never done this before, and there were literally no secrets downstairs.
The sodomite laws didn’t apply to him—technically they did—but in practice most laws didn’t apply to him.
He could literally do anything and not be tried in court, and in the worst cases, all he needed to do was take a long ship ride somewhere until it was all forgotten, whatever it may be.
A little sodomy wasn’t going to affect him and he had no other family to be embarrassed by any potential rumours.
He pushed open the door to his bedroom suite and it suddenly hit him.
He was being selfish. Sebastian didn’t have the same protections as he did. This was much more risky for Sebastian.
“Are you certain about this?”
“Yes.” Sebastian raked him with his gaze, and damned if Maurice didn’t nearly catch fire like a forbidden candle in a haystack.
“The law is not favourable to this, and there is only so much I can do to protect you.”
“What are you saying?”
“There are no secrets in a big house like this. I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“Maurice. You’ve practically dragged me to your room with promises of fucking, and now you are having doubts?”
He swallowed. “It would be remiss of me to risk your wellbeing for my own pleasure.”
“Noted.” Sebastian laid his hands on Maurice’s chest—two searing hot touch points—and pushed him back against the wall.
His kiss was fresh, strong, unforgiving, and told Maurice that he need not have worried.
This man wanted him as much as he wanted, and everything else was an excuse to avoid the unavoidable.
Maurice had always thought he wouldn’t like being pushed around by a lover because he was a Duke and he was accustomed to being the one wielding power but there was something incredible about giving up a little bit of it.
Only a little bit. He wanted to experience Sebastian’s weight on top of him, and the idea of being fucked instead of doing the fucking turned his blood to liquid fire.
He hadn’t done it like that before; people wanted the Duke in bed and he was more than happy to oblige, but this was Sebastian.
Sebastian saw him as a man, not as the Duke.
He gripped Sebastian’s shoulders and manhandled him towards the bed.
The giant four-poster bed was his space alone.
No one disturbed him here. He’d never invited anyone into this bed.
Others, he’d been in plenty of other people’s bed but none of them mattered now, except he was glad to have some experience so he could bestow pleasure on Sebastian.
Maurice’s heart hammered in his chest at the tussle of Sebastian’s tongue with his own, and the way his hands unbuttoned his jacket without a fumble.
Sebastian’s methodical fingers combined with passionate kisses to remove the slight panic resulting from knowing he wanted Sebastian here in his ducal bed, and what that might mean.
The past didn’t matter and neither did the future. He was here right now.
“Get naked.” He wrestled back control, loving how delicious it was that they were the same height and physical strengths. They were equal in everything bar class, and class didn’t matter in bed.
“Your Grace.” Sebastian’s eyes twinkled and his lips curled at the edges as he stepped away from their kiss and removed his clothing faster and more efficiently than any valet Maurice had ever known. “And you? Or should I ... ring for someone?”
Maurice was in heaven and hell as Sebastian teased him. He teased him with his naked flesh; all those glorious muscles toned from working outside all day, and he teased him with words that no one would dare say to a Duke.
“I am perfectly competent.” He set about proving it, glad that he hadn’t worn his tight Hessians as he did need a valet to assist in removing those boots which were handmade and moulded to his feet and calves.
Dinner shoes were much easier to toe off.
He took off his jacket, then picked up Sebastian’s jacket from the floor and rested them both over a chair.
“You are very slow at this.” Sebastian captured Maurice’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, kissed him lightly on the lips, then used those competent hands to assist Maurice in stripping off his clothes.
Maurice ignored the jest because having Sebastian’s hands all over him stole his breath and his ability to think.
Once naked, Maurice stepped forward to hold Sebastian, but his stable master had stepped backwards and assessed him with the same keen eye he used to run over the horses.
“Like what you see?” Maurice knew he was handsome. Many people commented on it, and some of them might even have been telling the truth, not merely complementing him because he was a Duke.
“I expected you to be less.”
“Less?” Desire was the only thing keeping Maurice here.
He was not accustomed to being treated like this; like he was nobody and like Sebastian could decide his fate.
It made his skin prickly, as if hot and cold winds were circulating around him in unusual patterns.
He couldn’t decide if he liked it or merely just needed the humility to keep him from being an ass.
“You are very fit.”
Maurice preened a little; humility be damned. He prided himself on his physical fitness, unwilling to be dissolute like many of his peers who succumbed to drink and gluttony in their lives of excess. He would be worthy of the title, a strong warrior and leader like his ancestors before him.
“And your cock is rather lovely.” Sebastian’s gaze dropped. Heat engulfed him and he tried to command Sebastian to touch him, but the words stuck to his dry tongue. He willed himself to tell Sebastian to stroke him.
“I ... ahh.”
“Come here.” Sebastian closed the gap between them, making his command unnecessary.
Who said come here and then did the moving?
And then Sebastian reached down and held both their cocks together.
Being the same height was perfection. Maurice’s eyes rolled back in his head, so he closed them.
The sensation of Sebastian’s hand, their cocks held tight together, was overwhelming; and then Sebastian kissed him.
It was almost too much, except it was entirely perfect.
He placed his hands on Sebastian’s waist, finding his skin a little cool to the touch, and so soft compared to the roughness of his calloused hand on his cock.
Maurice let himself be swept up in the kiss, matching the tangle of tongues with his own desperate need to taste Sebastian.
It was just as he remembered from in Sebastian’s cottage with hints of crispy apple and rosehip tea.
He slid his hands over Sebastian’s skin, exploring, as Sebastian began a gentle rhythm on their cocks.
“Damn it.” Sebastian spat in his hand, and then returned it to hold them both again.
The surprisingly uncouth gesture had the perfect effect, allowing Sebastian to stroke them together much more readily.
Maurice was so close. So close. He didn’t want to finish just yet, but he couldn’t say anything.
He’d much rather use his mouth for kissing and anyway, there were no words to adequately describe what he wanted, needed, desired.
He really needed to do something before he embarrassed himself.
He grabbed Sebastian’s strong round backside, fingers digging into the muscles a bit with the intent to guide Sebastian to the bed, but Sebastian made a rough groan that permeated his chest and took him closer to paradise.
Incredulous as it seemed, but Sebastian was about to destroy Maurice’s legendary control. Surely not?