Chapter 20
Daniel
Daniel awoke the following morning to a gloomy day with rain and hail lashing at his window. It was every bit as miserable outside as he felt in his heart. Their journey would be slow today on the muddy rutted roads, he realised, but he was determined they should be on their way. He hated to admit to himself that part of the reason for his haste to be gone was a wish to take Ambrose away from the presence of Mrs Forbes.
Weary and downcast, he made his way down to the dining room. A breakfast was laid out for him on the table. “Good morning, my lord,” Briggs said, walking into the room with a pot of fresh coffee. He poured it into a cup and placed it fastidiously before his master.
“Good morning, Briggs,” responded Daniel with a semblance of a smile. “Has Mr Cranshaw already breakfasted?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied the butler. “He is in the Forbes house visiting at present but asked me to tell you he is ready to depart whenever you are.”
Spending more time with his mistress, of course—or merely avoiding him? “Please send word to him that I shall be ready to leave in half an hour,” instructed Daniel.
“Yes, my lord,” said Briggs and left to do just that.
Daniel ate his breakfast, ruminating on the events of the past night. All the evidence suggested that Ambrose and Mrs Forbes were lovers. His fingers tightened dangerously on the knife and fork he held in his hands. Then he thought of his promise to himself to act like a gentleman and not some uncivilised madman. He tried to relax his grip on the cutlery. Perhaps it was a casual affair that would soon extinguish itself, he told himself. At any rate, he would be polite with Ambrose, cordial even. He would act as if all was well.
Breakfast complete, he went up to his room to get himself ready, coming back down with his travel case within the half hour he had specified. The rain, thankfully, had eased, and the carriage was outside ready to leave. Ambrose was already inside, waiting for him. Daniel said his goodbyes to Mr and Mrs Briggs, then boarded the carriage.
“Morning, Ambrose,” he said, settling himself opposite him.
“Good morning, my lord,” came the response.
“I trust you slept well?” he enquired.
“Like a log, my lord,” claimed Ambrose, not quite meeting his eyes.
At this, Daniel raised his brow but forbore to say anything more. The carriage clip clopped along the cobbled streets of Oxford, then onto the country road that would take them back home. Inside, silence reigned for several minutes, until Daniel could stand it no more. Throwing caution to the wind, he declared, “I heard you last night.”
“My lord?”
“I saw you too. Going next door to pay a visit to Lexie Forbes.”
Ambrose wore a guilty expression. “My lord, you are mistaken,” he began.
“I only mention it,” continued Daniel, “because you returned to your bedchamber a long time later, near dawn. It strikes me as unlikely, therefore, that you could have slept like a log.”
To this, Ambrose had no response. At his silence, Daniel spoke again, unable to erase the accusation from his voice. “She is your mistress, is she not?”
“My lord, I do not think it right to discuss personal matters,” said Ambrose uneasily.
“I disagree. Now answer me, Ambrose. Is she or is she not your mistress?”
“She is,” said Ambrose softly.
He had known it already, but the admission still brought a painful stab to his chest. He exhaled a long breath, then continued the inquisition. “And her husband, what of him?”
“They have long been estranged,” replied Ambrose, seemingly resigned to revealing the truth. “He lives the life of a bachelor in London and rarely if ever visits his wife and son.”
“How long have the two of you…” he could not go on and say the words.
Ambrose understood his meaning, answering shortly, “Seven years.”
Daniel reeled at the revelation. Seven years her lover? That was an age. His hopes that this was a casual, short-term arrangement foundered there and then. He forced himself to ask, “Do you love her?”
Ambrose did not catch his eye as he replied, “Yes, I do.”
“If she were free, would you marry her?”
Ambrose appeared to be trying to maintain a calm voice with his next words. “Yes, I would.”
Daniel inhaled sharply and looked out the window, battling to keep his eyes from welling. His voice not quite steady, he said, “I am sorry, Ambrose, to have importuned you with my unwanted advances. I understand now how unwelcome they were.” He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. The evidence was there, plain for him to see. Ambrose was not and would never be interested in him. All those little clues he had so hungrily grasped at—the blushes, the hesitations, the avoidance of his eyes—were not signs of hidden desire but of something else entirely. Ambrose was in love with Lexie Forbes. It was time at last to accept this unpalatable truth.
After a while, Ambrose’s voice intruded on his turbulent reflections. “I see this causes you pain. For this I am sorry.”
Daniel shook his head adamantly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Ambrose. The fault is entirely mine. Do please forgive me. We will speak of it no more.”
They continued their journey in terse silence. Then Ambrose spoke again. “I once recall you asking if we could be friends.”
Daniel laughed shortly. “I recall you saying friendship had to be earned.”
“Yes, I did,” agreed Ambrose, “and I believe we both have earned the right to call each other a friend. Do you not agree?”
“I will always be your friend, Ambrose, even if I cannot be more.” Daniel forced a smile.
“Then as your friend, Daniel, let me say this to you. Friendship is not something to sneer at or a poor substitute for love. It is precious and worth having. While I cannot reciprocate the sentiments you have expressed towards me, I can be many things to you. I can be the person you talk to whenever you are in need of companionship. I can be the person who you come to when you have a problem to solve. I can be the person you share good news of your successes with, and the person to help lift you out of your sorrows. All these things I can be for you and you can be for me. What say you to that?”
Daniel felt the import of Ambrose’s words. In them was a promise which was in its way as precious as the one he wished he could hear. Eyes glistening, he held out his hands. Unhesitatingly, Ambrose gripped them firmly in his. “I say yes to that,” said Daniel, his voice gritty with emotion.
Ambrose squeezed Daniel’s hands and said, “Then the matter is settled.” Releasing him, he sat back, a gentle smile on his beautiful face.
“Thank you,” said Daniel thickly.
The rest of the journey was accomplished in a far more cordial and relaxed manner. This friendly cordiality persisted over the next several weeks as Ambrose and Daniel settled into the parameters of their new relationship. With each day, their bond deepened and their platonic affection grew. Daniel became accustomed to having Ambrose in his home each day, working together on estate business or sharing a luncheon with their respective siblings. Saturday was the one day that Daniel did not see Ambrose, as he took the day off and spent it at home. Consequently, Saturday soon came to be Daniel’s least favourite day of the week.
He could not extinguish the attraction he felt for Ambrose nor the yearning he had for him, but he managed to put it to one side, and very nearly to convince himself that he was satisfied with the status quo. As time went on, however, he could not stop the gnawing need he had for sexual release. He had been celibate ever since his arrival in England last November, and his hands were growing weary from pleasuring himself each night to visions of Ambrose. He supposed he should find himself some willing wench to dally with, but he could not find the appetite for it.
One Wednesday in early April, Ambrose and Daniel sat in his study, going over the terms of some tenancy contracts that required renewal. It was a lengthy and wearisome process, but necessary. Finally, when the documents were all complete, Ambrose stood gathering up the papers. “If that is all, Daniel,” he said, stifling a yawn, “then I shall take myself home and prepare for my journey tomorrow.”
“What journey?” wondered Daniel then quickly realised. Tomorrow would be the first Thursday of the month, the day when Ambrose went to Oxford to deposit funds at the bank.
Jealousy surged in Daniel’s breast. In Oxford, there was Lexie. Ambrose would soon be indulging in a night of passion with his mistress while Daniel had nobody to share his bed. It was insupportable. On impulse, he said, “And I shall go to London. Mr Templeton has already kindly agreed to help me with some introductions there.”
Ambrose pursed his lips and nodded. “Then I wish you a safe and prosperous journey. Might I enquire, Daniel, when you shall return?”
Daniel considered the matter. “I shall be gone a few days at least,” he finally replied. “I will send word, but I would think to return on Monday or Tuesday.”
“Very well,” Ambrose nodded, placing the documents in his leather case. “I shall bid you farewell.”
“Farewell, Ambrose, and may your journey prosper too,” responded Daniel. My, my, how civil they both sounded.
Once Ambrose had gone, Daniel sat down to jot a quick note to Mr Templeton, enquiring if the latter would join him on a trip to London the following day. He rang the bell for the footman and handed the missive to him, instructing him to have it delivered to Graveley, Mr Templeton’s home, without delay. An hour later, a response arrived. Mr Templeton would be delighted to join Viscount Stanton on the 10:15 train to London the following day.
The following evening
Daniel took a sip of his cognac and answered yet another query about his home in America. He was at White’s where Mr Templeton, or Philip as he now called him, had been as good as his word, introducing him to various high ranking individuals. Some had been witty and interesting company, others were stuffed shirts with little of import to say.
All, however, had been fascinated by Daniel’s history, wanting to know about America. Daniel had obligingly provided a carefully curated portrait of his family’s estate in Ohio. He was already aware that he could not disclose how informal his life there had been nor how much of it had involved manual labour with his own bare hands. That would not do at all in the snobbish circles he now found himself in.
Another talking point had been the political situation in America. He had lost count of how many times he had been asked which state was likely to next secede from the Union. He wished he knew. It was a worrying state of affairs, causing his father no small amount of concern, judging from the last letter he had received. Daniel had spoken of it to Ambrose on numerous occasions. Together, they scrutinised the papers for every scrap of news from America and discussed the implications. He was more glad than ever to have him as a friend. Thinking of Ambrose gave him comfort in these slightly discomfiting surroundings.
Determinedly, he returned his attention to what his interlocutor was saying—some lord, whose name Daniel could not immediately recall. This same lord had volunteered to take Daniel to the House of Lords on Monday. Daniel would go merely as an observer this first time, but would get an opportunity on his next visit to make his maiden speech, though about what it would be, he had as yet no idea.
At last, after what seemed like hours of enforced civility, Mr Templeton stood and made their excuses. Together, they walked out into the drizzly April evening, their coats buttoned up against the cold. “Where to now?” wondered Daniel.
Philip gazed at him speculatively. “I can offer you two choices,” he said.
“And they are?”
“The first,” said Philip, “is a card party being held at Lord Marchmont’s house. I have an invitation and secured one for you too.”
A card party. It sounded very dull to him. “How about the second?” asked Daniel.
“The second one is a delicate matter,” replied Philip enigmatically. Daniel raised a brow, and Philip continued with a smile, “That first time you paid a visit to my house—you had, I believe, recently returned from a trip to Oxford—and we got a trifle tipsy together. You regaled me then with tales of your many and varied adventures with the opposite sex.”
“I did? That I do not recall. I must have been well into my cups.”
Philip sniggered. “I think you may have been.”
“And what has any of this to do with the second choice?”
“It has to do with it because it is a private members’ club, but nothing like White’s.” Philip hesitated. “I am not in the habit of taking anyone there whom I have not known for a very long time and can trust with the confidentiality that is required.”
Daniel was intrigued. “And yet you are willing to trust me?”
“It is a hunch I have that you would like this club, Daniel. It is called Tremayne’s, and it is a place of revelry, nay debauchery. Do you get my gist?”
Daniel narrowed his eyes. “Let me understand this fully. When you talk of debauchery, do you mean by that excessive imbibing of alcohol and the smoking of opium, or do you mean sexual frolics?”
Philip grinned wickedly. “I mean the latter. Would you like to see it and partake in the revelry?”
Daniel thought of Ambrose, in all probability partaking in revelry with his mistress at this very moment. Still, he hesitated. It was Ambrose he wanted, not anyone else. A voice whispered in his ear, “But you cannot have Ambrose, so what will you do? Remain celibate the rest of your life?” He needed to end this bout of celibacy, and he had no wish to romance anybody or play any seduction games. Surely this place, Tremayne’s, was one step better than paying to be with a whore? He took a deep breath and answered, “Yes, I would.”
“That’s my man,” said Philip approvingly. “Well then, let us go. It is only fifteen minutes’ walk from here.”
A short stroll later, they arrived at an unremarkable looking four-storey building. On ringing the bell, the door was opened by a stiff-looking butler who ushered them into a neatly furnished hall. He took their hats and coats, then enquired, “What name shall I put down, sir?”
“My guest’s name is Viscount Stanton,” replied Philip equably.
“He will have to sign the declaration,” went on the butler.
Daniel eyed Philip curiously. What on earth was this declaration? Philip was quick to elucidate. “The declaration is merely a document in which you promise to abide by the rules of this establishment. As I said to you before, this is a very private club where confidentiality is of the utmost importance.”
“I see,” replied Daniel. “Well then, show me this declaration.”
It was brought out, and Daniel read it through from start to finish. He was not to mention the name Tremayne’s to anyone outside these premises. All occurrences inside the club were to be treated with the utmost discretion and never spoken of outside these walls. All visitors and members were to be respectful to one another. Physical violence in any form would not be tolerated. Daniel realised, of course, that there was no legal recourse should a person break the signed terms of this declaration. As far as he could see, it functioned on an old-fashioned honour system. After one, final moment of hesitation, he signed his name at the bottom of the document. The butler bowed, taking the paper from him, and then invited them to go up to the dining lounge on the first floor.
“Are you ready?” asked Philip with a smile.
“As ready as I will ever be,” responded Daniel.
“Then come.” And up the stairs they both went, then entered a richly furnished room filled with two dozen or so people sitting at dining tables and conversing casually. It did not look subversive in any way. Philip chuckled at Daniel’s obvious bafflement. “This is what it says it is, merely a dining lounge where members can eat and drink before beginning their revelries. Are you hungry, Daniel?”
Daniel smirked. “I am, Philip, but not for food.”
Philip clapped him on the shoulder with a laugh. “Then come with me.” He led Daniel to a door at the other end of the room, nodding to acquaintances along the way. Once at the door, he winked and said, “Here we go.” He pushed the handle and opened it.
Daniel followed Philip inside, trying not to stare openly at what he saw. The room was large and dimly lit, though it was light enough to see perfectly well what was going on. Naked men and women were cavorting everywhere, on strategically placed couches, on a small central stage, and up against the walls. His eyes bulged as he spied a man on his knees, sucking another man’s cock. If only Ambrose could see this, came the unbidden thought. Nearby, two men were fucking the same woman, one in her cunt and the other in her mouth. Oh Lord, what was this? He felt his cock thicken with instinctive arousal.
Just then, a young maid came over to them. “May I undress you, sir?” she asked.
“Of course,” beamed Philip.
Daniel watched agog as she deftly disrobed him, folding his clothes in a neat pile onto a table by the door. Next, she came to him. “Sir, may I undress you?”
He nodded his acquiescence and watched in wonder as she took every stitch of clothing he wore and stowed it away on the table. He was naked in a room full of people. He should have felt an ounce of shame at the lack of modesty, but curiously, all he felt was wild abandon and lust—a great deal of lust. His cock stood proudly to attention, raring to go.
Philip glanced down at it. “Good man,” he said. “Looks to me like you are ready for some revelry.” His eyes twinkled. “Go forth, Daniel, and enjoy yourself. Once you are done, this lovely maid here will fetch your clothes for you, and we can meet up again in the lounge for some refreshment. Adieu!” With that, he walked off and was soon swallowed up by the crowd of revellers.
Cautiously, Daniel stepped forward into the room, unsure of the protocol in finding himself a partner to cavort with. He need not have worried. A curvy female with large, pendulous breasts came to him with a delighted smile, followed by another female with high pert breasts and—if his eyes were to be believed—a totally hair-free cunt. The first female called out to her friend, “Oh goody, fresh meat.”
The friend looked him over and smiled knowingly. “Fresh meat indeed. Would you like to have some fun with us, sir?”
A smile slowly spread over Daniel’s face. “I rather think I would.”
They took him by the hand and led him to a nearby couch. There, the large-breasted female lay with him, allowing him to fondle her while she stroked and kissed his upper body. Her friend, meanwhile, went straight to work on his cock, stroking it with soft hands, then replacing her hands with the touch of her mouth. It felt very good indeed, so good that he was in danger of finishing in her mouth if he did not stop her soon. Gently, he pushed her away, saying, “I am not ready to climax just yet, lovely lady.”
The woman laughed. “Oh dear, we cannot be having that. Perhaps we can give your cock a rest while you pleasure my cunt instead.”
“I am at your service, madam,” replied Daniel.
With a sultry look, she stood and came round to the other end of the couch where his head lay. With slow deliberation, she straddled him, lowering her bare cunt to his face. He licked her then, getting a first taste of her tangy essence. Encouraged, he began to lap at her, then as her arousal became more pronounced, he took her engorged clitoris in his mouth and sucked until he felt her spasm under his tongue, a warm wet flow of her juices gushing out.
She sighed happily, shifting her body off his face. “I think we need to reward this good work with a fuck,” she told her friend, who was busy sucking on his nipples.
Her busty friend paused in her ministrations and looked up. “I think we should,” she concurred. “Me first!”
Quickly, she slid down his body to his long, thick length, squeezing it admiringly with her hand. Then in one lithe movement, she positioned herself atop him and lowered her cunt, inch by inch, on his throbbing shaft. He felt pleasure engulf him as he slid all the way inside her. It had been too long, and his need was great. He took a calming breath, not wanting to embarrass himself by climaxing so soon.
She began to ride him, her large breasts bouncing hypnotically before his eyes. But soon, the sight was too enticing for his self-control. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing himself not to spill his seed. Her movements atop him quickened, and the walls of her cunt tightened around him. She was close, he knew, and he had to help her over the edge. Bracing his feet on the couch, he began to thrust up into her, hitting a spot inside her cunt that made her gasp. “Yes!” she cried. “Oh fuckity fuck yes.” Her walls clamped around him as she screamed her climax out loud.
With one final pleasurable sigh, she stilled, then climbed off him. “My turn,” said her friend, who had been watching them lasciviously. Said friend now climbed onto his cock and swallowed it up into her welcoming cunt. Oh Lord, this was too good. He was so ready to burst, but as if reading his thoughts, she gazed at him severely. “Oh no, sir, you will not. At least not until I have orgasmed one more time.” And then she too began to ride him.
He stared up at her pert little breasts, bouncing frantically in time with the rest of her body. Too arousing. Once more, he closed his eyes and tried to think of something that would take his mind off his agony—the first thing springing to mind was the tenancy contract he and Ambrose had reworded just yesterday.
Ambrose. No, he must not think of him. No, no, no. Ambrose was lost to him as a lover. He was merely a friend. Ambrose was busy fucking his precious Lexie at this very minute. And that thought alone was quick to bring Daniel back from the precipice, his cock deflating at the painful vision. No, that would not do either. He had to perform at least long enough to give the lady pleasure. He opened his eyes again and stared at her breasts. They were so very pretty. He kept his gaze there, not looking at her face and purposely not thinking of Ambrose. His cock stiffened once more, and as with the previous lady, he decided to help her along to her climax by thrusting up, looking to find that venerated spot inside her cunt that brought so much pleasure. He heard her gasp. Good. He was striking the right place. Sweat forming on his brow from the effort, he pulsed up into her cunt in a rapid motion that soon had her walls spasming around him. With a long, loud moan, she went over that precipice.
And then, finally, it was time for him to achieve release. He fucked into her, over and over until he could take no more. Then, in one swift move, he lifted her off him and sat up, his hand wrapped around his shiny, throbbing cock. He stroked his shaft rapidly just as the large-breasted lady crouched before him. “Spend on my titties,” she encouraged.
With a frantic cry, he did just that, spurting streams of his pearly emissions onto her heaving breasts. The relief was intense but short-lived. At long last, his five-month drought was over, but it was not Ambrose that had quenched his thirst. He pushed away a twinge of guilt. He did not owe Ambrose fidelity. They were friends, that was all. And this impersonal, unsentimental fucking was just the thing. Never again would he romance anybody else, for his heart belonged to Ambrose for posterity. His body though, was another matter.
“Oh my, what a pretty sight that was,” purred a voice beside him.
He turned sideways and for the first time noticed the slight, fair-haired man standing by the couch and watching them. The man searched his eyes before asking, “Sir, may I clean you up with my tongue?”
Once upon a time, Daniel might have jumped with excitement at the thought of a man touching him intimately. But now, he made a small addendum to his previous considerations. His heart belonged to Ambrose, and while his body was another matter, it would never belong to any other man but Ambrose. His lips pressed into a firm line. “I think not,” he replied.
The man shrugged in evident disappointment. “What a pity,” he said and walked off.
Meantime, his two lady friends had disappeared too, most likely to go clean up. Daniel was left alone, though he knew by now it would not be for long. He’d had enough for one night though. Coming to his feet, he strode to the maid and requested his clothes, swiftly getting dressed once she had brought them over. Then, he left the room and walked back into the dining lounge. Finding an empty table, he sat and ordered a plate of steak and potatoes.
He was busily eating his meal when finally, Philip joined him, he too ordering a similar repast. “How did you like it?” asked Philip.
Daniel set down his fork. “I liked it well enough,” he said.
Philip beamed, evidently pleased to have inducted someone new into his debauchery. “I come here once every month,” he said. “You are welcome to join me.”
“Thank you, I think I will,” replied Daniel. They continued their meal peaceably, and once they were done, he insisted on taking care of the bill. Then, replete at last, they took a hansom cab to their respective homes.
As Daniel slid under the fine cotton sheets at Stanton House, he reflected one last time on the evening he had just had. This was the way it would be for him from here on, he thought. His days would be spent in loving friendship with Ambrose, and once a month, when Ambrose went to his mistress, he would come here and assuage his physical needs at Tremayne’s.
There would be no affairs, no messy relationships, just simple fucking. And as soon as those needs were met, he would return home to bask in Ambrose’s company once more. He would forever be unsatisfied romantically and sexually, but there was nothing he could do about it. These were the cards that capricious fate had dealt him, and he would play them out the best he could.