Speak Its Name Read online

  It’s you, he thought, holding his lover close. It’s you, and I have been ten kinds of a fool. And so have you. For God’s sake, Jack, why should I care where you came from, so long as you’re here?

  Lying in his arms, trusting and utterly relaxed, Jack pulled in a long, slow breath and began to snore gently. Scoville thought it a very civilised, endearing snore. He could listen to it forever. And with any luck, he would.

  ~

  For the second night in a row, Jack woke in a dark hour before dawn. Thankfully, the cause of his wakefulness this time was nothing more than his own body requesting a visit to the water closet, but it was still annoying.

  He didn’t want to move. He had rolled on his side while he slept, and the delicious warmth all along his back told him Lord Robert was curled up behind him, one arm thrown over his body. And—yes, that was his lordship’s other arm beneath his head. Jack shifted experimentally, and the embrace tightened.

  Jack sighed. Why did this sort of thing have to happen? Here he lay in his lover’s arms, having attained his heart’s desire, and his body was doing its damnedest to spoil things. Of course it was his own fault for diving into bed without attending to the necessities first. But that had been more a fall on his face than a dive, really. If not for his lordship’s kindness—and supporting arm—he might not have made it to the bed at all.

  Jack waited as long as he possibly could, then carefully disentangled himself, made his escape, and attended to his business. He crept back under the covers carefully, but not carefully enough.

  “You’re freezing,” Lord Robert said. “Come here.”

  He didn’t need to be asked twice. The bed was wonderfully warm and so was his lover. But he was too absorbed in enjoying the closeness and comfort to go back to sleep. It would be a sin to waste even a moment. He tried to keep still.

  “Are you asleep?” his lordship whispered after a few minutes.

  “No. Sorry—am I keeping you awake?”

  “I don’t mind at all. We’re on holiday now, Jack. We can sleep in as late as we like. As far as I’m concerned, so long as we devote one day to the Conservatory and one evening to the opera, we can spend the rest of the fortnight here, under the covers.”

  Jack turned toward him and received a welcoming kiss. “This may not be the right time to ask,” he said, rearranging himself comfortably on Lord Robert’s shoulder, “but if you don’t want to hear ‘my lord’ or ‘Major,’ what shall I call you?”

  His lordship sighed. “My name, perhaps? It’s nothing special, but I do answer to it.”

  Jack knew it was a foolish request, and he wished that it didn’t bother him so much. Was it worth endangering all this to keep harping on a subject that was so obviously bothersome? But what use was the promise of equality if he had to hold his tongue? “I would rather not, sir. If I am to continue in your employ—”

  “Jack, unless you truly want to leave, I wish you’d stop saying that. You can’t desert me now. I’d never be able to replace you.”

  His heart full to overflowing, Jack wondered if he was just playing a game, seeking reassurance. He didn’t think so. “Then I would rather keep to ‘my lord,’ or find some name that no one else uses. If I were to suffer a lapse of judgement and mention you by that name, it would seem I was referring to someone else.”

  He could not give Lord Robert his most genuine reason. If he were to say, “‘Robert’ is what he called you,” he would sound like a jealous fool. And perhaps he was jealous, and a fool as well. Perhaps he was trying to set this liaison apart from all those others.

  To his relief, Lord Robert said, “That’s reasonable. I suppose I’m the lucky one—I can address you as Darling as often as I like, with no one the wiser. It does suit you.”

  Jack stopped this foolishness with his own mouth, and further discussion was delayed for several minutes.

  “Unfortunately,” Lord Robert said, pausing for breath, “If I were to change my own surname to Sweetheart, people would talk. It’s too bad, but I don’t like most of the nicknames—I don’t much like my actual name, but there’s no help for that. Bob cuts it too short. Rob is a criminal act, Robbie makes me think of Burns and his wee timorous beasties. Bert is my uncle. My grandfather used to call me Cock Robin—”

  Jack laughed out loud and arched his hips forward.

  “Not in that sense, you lout. But I admit it’s the least objectionable. I shouldn’t mind Robin.”

  “That puts me in mind of Sherwood Forest and merry men. I like it very much. Robin.” Jack rolled the name around in his mind. It would take some practice. “Please forgive me if I address you with too much respect. I may not be able to change the habit of years in an instant.”

  “That’s settled, then.” Lord—no, Robin—lay back on the pillow, one arm around Jack’s shoulders. “I don’t mean to make things difficult for you, Jack. It may seem a foolish whim, but I’ve sent too many men to their deaths with my orders. If a man doesn’t want to be in bed with me just for the fun of it, or the friendship, or whatever harmless reason—I don’t want to think he might be there because of my rank or position. That’s why I never went to bed with any man who wasn’t free to tell me to go to hell if he chose.”

  “Is that why—” Jack caught himself as he realised how presumptuous the question might seem.

  “Why I never approached you? Yes, indeed. You found Cecil’s advances offensive, did you not? I had no reason to think you would see mine any differently. You did your very best to appear a ladies’ man, my Darling.” He reached up and ruffled Jack’s hair. “You played your part too well. If you hadn’t been so damnably decorous—if you’d so much as given me a hint—”

  “And have you think I was some sort of conniving rent boy? You never looked twice at anything less than a Captain or a Baronet. And you never kept—” The conversation was leading him into dangerous territory. Perhaps there were some things better left unsaid.

  “Jack?”

  “I don’t imagine I’ll tell you to go to hell, m—Robin. But if you begin to find my company a bore, I won’t hold it against you if you tell me to pack my bags.”

  “What?” His lordship rolled over, leaning up on an elbow. “Jack, what in God’s name are you talking about?”

  Jack glanced away. “Men have habits,” he said. “And I’ve observed over the years that your habit consists of brief liaisons with a variety of friends that you seldom see more than two or three times a year, as though you were deliberately avoiding attachment. I mean no criticism, my lord, and I apologise if I give offence. It’s merely a pattern I’ve noticed, but it makes me think that you will wish for a change before too long.”

  Lord Robert was quiet for so long that Jack was afraid he’d wrecked it all. Finally he said, “So you think I’ll tire of you after a month or two, and discard you without a second thought?”

  “I did not mean to suggest you would be thoughtless,” Jack said carefully. “I just—my lord—I’m sorry, Robin—I would not want you to keep me on out of pity. I think you might do that.”

  “Not thoughtless, merely a fickle fool.” Lord Robert dropped back to the pillow. “I suppose it’s good that we’re both rational adults, not a couple of reckless pups, or we’d drive one another to distraction. But it’s a relief to know you’re human enough to make mistakes. Let me tell you this, now. As soon as we return to London, I’ll set up a fund so you will draw your salary for the rest of your life, whether you stay or leave. You have my word.”

  “What?”

  A hand sought his in the blankets, held tight. “I want you beside me, Jack, but only if you want to be here. You’re free to stay or go. I hope you’ll stay.”

  Jack felt as though all the air had been drawn out of his lungs. “I couldn’t ask that of you.”

  “You could, but you wouldn’t. I don’t mean to insult your pride—you’d probably never need the money, you could give it to the old soldiers’ home if you wanted. It’s yours if you should need it, though
, as much for my own peace of mind as your security.”

  “My lord—”

  “In case you’ve forgotten, you saved my life. I’m here now because you risked your life for me. I can never forget that, even if you can.”

  Robert shifted again so he could look at Jack directly, and Jack noticed that the room was getting brighter. They had talked the sun up. “Bear with me, Jack. I must explain.”

  Jack shook his head, but his lover kissed him and continued. “A gentleman may have a wife. Some would even say he must have a wife. He may not have a lover, even a female lover, who shares his home. As for a male lover, the best of friends couldn’t live together, much less share a bed, without exciting more social condemnation than I would be willing to face.”

  “Men frequently share lodgings,” Jack objected.

  “Not if they can afford to have an establishment of their own. I am not interested in making a public spectacle of my private life, Jack. I’d rather face Jezail bullets than Society on a witch-hunt.”

  “I understand.”

  “You discerned two of my personal rules—you called them pretty accurately. There’s a third, but anyone would have missed it. Besides being equals, they had to be men that I could like but probably would not love, men I knew I could not possibly live with. I could do without that in the bedroom because I had you filling up the rest of my life. In a sense, they were taking on a chore that I thought you would find distasteful.”

  “And now?” Jack held his breath.

  “I think we can deal with the first two. A man’s home is his castle, is it not? I hereby dub thee Sir Jack, Keeper of the Keys and Guardian of the Royal Bedchamber, and further elevate thee to peer of the realm.”

  “You have a strange sense of humour, my lord—though if you are my King, I should more properly call you ‘Sire.’”

  Lord Robert sighed. “I think ‘my lord’ will do, if you can’t restrain yourself. We needn’t worry about spending too much time under the same roof, either. If you could convince me that you were uninterested for twelve years, I think you can convince the world indefinitely. As for the third, it’s already too late. I do want to live with you. In fact, I’ve no idea how I would live without you.”

  “How can you say that? We’ve only made love once, and it was—” Jack had no reservations about sex, but he felt shy about discussing the details. “It was delightful, but I can’t imagine you’d be satisfied with nothing more than what we’ve done. What if you find I don’t measure up?”

  “I’d be astonished. But if you’d like to explore further possibilities, I am reasonably experienced and entirely at your service. You may observe the jar of facial cream conveniently located on the bedside table.”

  “My lord?”

  “Not while we’re in bed together, I’m not.” Lord Robert administered a kiss that took the sharpness from his words. “Jack, we’ve spent too many years hiding from each other, denying our feelings because of an absurd misunderstanding, and now that we’re finally naked together, we’re building walls of words between us. I’m tired of talking. Show me what you want to do—and what you want from me. If I have any objections, I’ll voice them.”

  Jack blinked. The room was quite bright now, and his lover was watching him expectantly. “Would you prefer—”

  “I prefer you use your initiative, Sergeant.” Lord Robert reached down between them and wrapped his fingers around Jack’s cock, giving it a gentle squeeze that set his nerves afire. “I prefer we make love, not conversation.”

  “Very good, sir.” Jack grinned, taking the lid off the conveniently located jar. Since kissing had been highly successful thus far, he started with that. Cradling his lordship’s head in one hand, he tilted his face up and dropped a light kiss upon his lips, just the barest touch. He did it again, lingering a bit longer, and then again, repeating the teasing kisses until he could feel Lord Robert reaching up every time he came close. He stopped teasing and opened his mouth, inviting his lover’s tongue out to play.

  But that wasn’t enough. And he was at something of a disadvantage, because the other gentleman had neglected to remove the top of his pyjamas. Still administering kisses, Jack slid his hand down the front of the shirt, opening the buttons as he went, until he reached the highly agitated object at the bottom. Robin gasped when Jack’s hand closed around his cock, but he was playing fair, not trying to take control.

  Oh, what to do next... with ten years of wishful thinking and fantasy to choose from, he felt like the proverbial donkey starving between two piles of hay. But one thing he did want to do was feast his eyes. He flipped open the shirt front and gazed at the sculptural symmetry, from delicious collarbone all the way down to the foolishness of toes. He couldn’t keep himself from touching, brushing his lips along jawline and throat, blowing cool air against the warm skin. He caressed the flat belly, scratching it lightly with his nails as he closed his mouth around a nipple. He teased it with his tongue while he pinched the other. Lord Robert moaned softly, tangling his fingers in Jack’s hair.

  Jack glanced over at the jar beside the bed, and hesitated. “Are you sure you want me to—”

  Robert grabbed Jack by both shoulders and shook him. “Yes, I am sure! For God’s sake, Jack, I don’t think anything less would convince you I’m in earnest!” He pulled him down for a kiss, then fell back against the pillow, arching up in a way that drove Jack to distraction. “And you ought to know,” he added with a lazy, sensuous smile, “I really do enjoy it.”

  Was there a more beautiful man on the face of the earth? That was theoretically possible. But why look anywhere else with perfection before him? Jack had begun with a vague idea of making long, slow love, but he realised his own body wasn’t going to cooperate. And judging by the way—he grinned—the way Robin’s cock leapt when he touched it, there was no reason to delay.

  It seemed rude to give orders to the lord of his heart, so he stroked gently down those muscled thighs before insinuating a hand between them, coaxing them apart. The face cream was indeed convenient, and he warmed it in his hand before putting it to the necessary use. “Is this all right?” he asked, guessing from the way his lover pushed down against his fingers—and the blissful look on his face—that it was perfectly all right.

  “Yes. Oh, yes. Shall I turn over?”

  “If you like.”

  “No. This would—oh!” His voice wavered. “Jack, I don’t mean to rush you, but—”

  “Not at all.” He took his time, making certain that both of them were as ready as humanly possible, and then positioned himself between his lover’s knees and lifted him slightly. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” He pushed inside slowly, biting his lip against the intensity.

  “If you stop, I’ll do something we’ll both regret,” Lord Robert said raggedly. “Could you lie down upon me? That would feel... oh, yes.”

  Jack was happy to oblige, but the feel of his lover’s hot organ against his belly, the feel of his own moving within, the unbearable need to go deeper, took the last remnants of his self-control. When he felt his lover’s legs wrap around his own, locking them together, the rhythm of thrust and response passed back and forth between them until they were moving as one being. The pleasure flowed, built, and finally peaked, leaving them lying panting, drenched in sweat and satisfaction.

  “That’s better than conversation,” Lord Robert said drowsily.

  “Infinitely.” It felt good to lie here like this. So good...

  Jack only realised he had fallen asleep at that point when he awoke some time later. The room was filled with a golden glow of full daylight filtered through the heavy draperies, and that same wonderful warmth once again enveloped him.

  “Good morning, slug-a-bed,” Lord Robert murmured in his ear

  “Are you certain it isn’t afternoon?”

  “Still morning. Just past ten.”

  “Mm.” He stretched against the body behind him. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Like a babe i
n arms. The most comfortable arms I can remember.”

  “And did I pass muster?”

  Lord Robert laughed. “If you think you can apply yourself, I believe fifteen or twenty years of diligent practice should make up for any minor deficiencies. Yes, of course. It was lovely.”

  Jack rolled over and stole a kiss. “I promise to practice every day, sir. I will be a credit to the regiment.”

  “The one thing that drives me to distraction is to think of all the years we’ve wasted,” his lordship said, cradling Jack’s face in his hand. “So many nights we’ve slept alone.”

  Jack felt free to touch in return, and caressed the long line of his lover’s body from shoulder to hip. “Not entirely wasted. I think we may know one another better than if we’d spent all that time in bed.”

  “That’s true. You’ve seen me at my worst without giving notice.”

  “The thought never crossed my mind. Except those times you had a lover stopping by—those times I felt sorely tried.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. I never realised. I was just relieved that you didn’t seem to object to my illegal, immoral behaviour. I was grateful for your loyalty and tolerance.”

  “My cowardice, more like.”

  “Never.”

  “Yes. It was my fault. I should’ve come to you and said, ‘My lord, this job is splendid, I’ve never had more comfortable quarters, my pay is more than generous, but if you don’t roger me right this minute I shall die of longing.’”

  Robert smiled. “Is that a request?”

  “Absolutely. But might we get a pot of tea or coffee up here and turn that late supper into a late breakfast? I’d like some sustenance first, if there’s time.”

  “There’s time,” his lover said. “All the rest of our lives. We may not be able to retrieve the past, Jack, but now we’ve got the future.”

  Return to TOC

  Chapter Three

  June, 1919