Speak Its Name Read online

  “Please,” I said, unnerved and embarrassed by her frankness, “you don’t need to speak of it.”

  “I merely tell you so that you are forearmed in case Lady Pelham blames you for the excursion.”

  “I would hardly let Miss Pelham take the blame.”

  She inclined her head. “Then I shall talk no more on a subject that has little merit,” she said. “I heard you laughing with Mr. Heyward, and you impress me. I have rarely heard him laugh out loud with anyone except Emily before.”

  “If truth be told, it is often more at than with.” I coloured a little to think that we may have been further overheard. “I am an amusement to him, I have found.”

  “I comprehend you perfectly. I have spent a lot of time at Wenson House in times past, and Adam takes much personal entertainment from the world.”

  “Miss Clynes, you wrong me, as usual,” Adam said, returning with Miss Pelham on his arm. “And I would be grateful if you would not scare our new friend away, he looks positively ready to bolt. Your reputation has terrified him beyond words, I’m sure.”

  This brought a shocked reprimand from Miss Pelham, who drew Miss Clynes away from us both. “Adam Heyward, if I could tell Mamma what you just said...”

  “But you won’t, of course.”

  She rewarded him with a furious expression, and I was grateful at that point that it began to rain a little, for I would have had to say something I might have regretted. There were black clouds sweeping across from the west, and I felt we were in for a downpour. We moved under the protection of the bridge whilst we waited for the driver to appear with the barouche, but after a few minutes there was no sign of him.

  “I will have to go and find him,” I said and strode off, ignoring the ladies’ cries of concern for my welfare. I was half way up the slope when I realised that Adam was behind me. “Damn you, Heyward, you were supposed to stay with the ladies!”

  “Really? I must have missed the dispatch—did you give out those orders, Major?” His cane slipped on the wet grass and I caught him by the elbow before he went down. The rain began in earnest, grey sheets which made our progress all but impossible as the slope turned to a river. I was minded for a moment to march him back down to the bridge but the gothic temple was nearer, so I half pulled, half supported him through the growing murk until we reached it and were under shelter. He was laughing, and his hair was stuck in delightful Romanesque curls to his forehead.

  I was furious with him. “You left them alone down there!”

  “Geoffrey, my dear fellow, this isn’t Spain. Two young ladies in an English park under a covered bridge are as likely to come to harm as if they were in the arcade in Bath. They will be dryer than we two, and this affords them the opportunity of some much missed gossip which I assure you they will be indulging in as we speak. You, I am quite certain, are first in the categories for discussion.” He shook his head, like a dog, and his curls sprang away from his face. “Don’t deny them this time together, Geoff. They’ve been a long time apart. Don’t deny it to us, too.”

  The rain worsened, making it almost impossible to see the bottom of the hill. I peered out, hopeful in case I might see the barouche arriving at the bridge but could make out nothing with certainty. Then Adam was behind me, his arms snaking around my waist, and in the shelter and privacy of the temple, I turned and kissed him. His face was wet and cold but his mouth was warm, and he clung hard to me, his fingers digging hard into my hips before encircling me and cupping my arse. I could feel the familiar prickle and heat as my passion rose, and only once did I make some half-hearted demurral that this was hardly the time, nor the place, but my words were almost habit; we would never have the time and the place—and we must take them when we found them.

  I pushed him back into the shadows of the shallow temple, biting at my gloves and throwing them aside. As before, he was acquiescent to my hurry; unbuttoning himself as he saw me do the same whilst we both attempted to kiss as if we would never have the chance again in this life. I was hard when he touched me, and he was growing so as I pulled his manhood out into the cold and rubbed it vigorously, and I found myself groaning into his mouth as he throbbed under my rough palm.

  His breeches slid down his thighs, leaving his arse open to the elements and my free hand sought his buttocks. He staggered a little and I turned, sat myself down on the bench against the wall and gasped as the ice-cold marble hit my fundament. Then I pulled him down backwards onto my lap. He opened his legs and my cock was welcomed into his cleft. In spite of the cool and the rain, I found myself sweating. He pushed back against me.

  “Now, Geoffrey.”

  “Not here,” I muttered, fighting the urge to bury myself in him.

  “What are you waiting for?” He was tossing himself, his head leaning back against my shoulder. My lips were close against his ear. “A scented boudoir with rose petals? Spit and have done.”

  He thrust back and forth as if he were swiving a maid himself and the friction he caused made me bite down on his shoulder and brought me such feelings of delight that I forgot all else. I did what he said, oiled my pole as best I could. It was leaking from the end and I took the tip and rubbed it against his hole.

  “It’s impossible,” I said, as I pushed a little.

  “Not at all,” he said. He breathed out, widened his legs still further and to my amazement I slid inside him. I felt the head push through, gripped in a way that was almost painful. I found I was shaking; my whole body seemed to shudder with pleasure.

  “Oh, God.” I said. “Oh GOD.” I couldn’t thrust in the position I was in, so I did the only thing I could think of to do. I took him by his hips and pulled him back still further until I was so fully a part of him that I could not see that I had a prick at all. He was breathing shallowly, almost hissing through his teeth,

  He rocked back and forth, which was exquisite agony, so I took hold of him again and pushed him forward a little, then slid him back, then I could not control myself—and to my shame my cock fired off as if I were a schoolboy, and all I could do was cling to him as he brought himself to completion.

  He pulled himself from me without a word, and there was a terrible silence between us as we cleaned ourselves up and arranged our clothing. I could only imagine what he must think of me, although it could not have been worse than how I thought of myself. As he was fiddling with the buttons on his breeches, I left him; I strode out into the rain and ran up the wet slope to where the carriage waited. My face was red with embarrassment, and I imagined the rain fairly sizzled when it hit my cheeks.

  I was sure that Adam had had lovers before me, and I could imagine one at least, with his urbane grace and devilish smile whose rod would not erupt at the first touch of another’s skin. I could not see that my clumsy efforts would ever be required again. I felt as grey as the sky and my heart felt heavy in my chest.

  The driver had already raised the canopy and within minutes, we collected both Adam from the temple, where he emerged looking hardly dishevelled, and the ladies from under the covered bridge.

  How different was our mood for the journey back. Adam did not look at me or speak to me, and even the sweet touch of his leg was taken from me as he sat as far from me as he could, staring into space as if the world had offended him. I escorted Miss Clynes to her door and we rode the remainder of the journey in an icy silence.

  Miss Pelham looked cold and pale, and not a little concerned at the change in atmosphere between us, but as I handed her out of the carriage, she said, “You will come in, Major?” The front door had opened, but Adam had paused at the doorway, as if he was going to turn and speak.

  “I’m afraid not,” I said, partly to her, and partly to his back. “My father will be expecting me, and I have taken up too much of your time as it is. Perhaps tomorrow?”

  Adam moved into the house without a word, and it took all my strength to stop myself from following him.

  “Of course,” she said, with a curtsey. “You are always we
lcome.”

  I stood on the pavement for a second, staring at the house as if it had wronged me, before getting into the carriage and finishing that day in the blackest mood I’d had for many years.

  Return to TOC

  Chapter Ten

  In which Heyward makes his feelings plain and I am forced to be a reluctant Samaritan.

  There was nothing for it but to proceed with my father’s plan, no matter that my more private life was almost out of control. From the bristling eyebrows over the breakfast table the next morning, I was left with no doubt as to his growing impatience.

  When I stood up, excusing myself, he reached into his pocket and removed a small case which he slid across the table to me.

  “Take this,” he said, and make some use of it.”

  I opened the little box to find a ring of elegant beauty; a slim band of rose-pink gold with a single diamond with the same tinge.

  “Was this my mother’s?”

  “No, it blasted well isn’t,” he said, going as red as my jacket. “It was my mother’s. Get out of my sight, boy and bring me back a daughter-in-law.” I fled, but with dignity.

  The reluctant suitor (and the spurned lover) made his way to the Pelham house after breakfast and was ushered into the drawing room where Lady Pelham greeted me.

  “I should be extremely angry with you, Major,” she said as we settled down. “I heard what naughty thing you did.”

  For one second I went cold, until I realised that what I had done to Adam would hardly be considered naughty, and wasn’t something to be brought into any conversation. I must have showed my confusion as she continued, patting my arm.

  “I don’t consider you to be at blame; my daughter can be extremely wilful, and for some reason she will not shake off the most unfortunate of acquaintances.”

  “It was at my insistence that Miss Clynes joined the party,” I said, “Miss Pelham was aware of your prohibition, I am sure. I can only apologise...”

  She gave me a small smile as she sipped her drink. “Please, Major Chaloner, I know my daughter. She would go out yesterday in spite of the fact that I said it would rain, and now she is suffering the consequences. Both she and Adam have dreadful colds, and Adam has such a weak chest that I am fearful that it may turn to influenza, or something much worse.”

  My emotion at that moment was so violent that all I could was to stand up and face the fireplace. Was every plan I had destined to bring ruin on others? “I am to blame for this,” I said, “and I take the full responsibility. Is he—I mean—is Miss Pelham and your nephew... Are they being tended to? My father has a physician that he relies on utterly here in Bath. Allow me to fetch him. It is the very least that I can do.”

  “They have seen a doctor this morning, and he says that it is next-to-nothing, merely a chill, but what do they know?”

  “You are quite right to worry,” I agreed, ringing the bell for a servant. “Allow me to send for Dr. King. My father is plagued with cold in the winter and he comes to Bath for the sole reason that the man practices here.”

  She nodded and the little line of worry between her eyes faded. “Adam is much more delicate than he would have you think,” she said. “Emily has the constitution of an ox, and she will shrug this off in a day. Perhaps it would be better not to bother your doctor with her, but Adam...”

  “He will see them both,” I insisted. I scribbled a quick note addressed to my father’s doctor and sent the servant off.

  It seemed an age before the doctor appeared, and then there was a small altercation, although polite, between myself and Lady Pelham as to whom he should see first, but as I was the one who would be settling the physician’s account, she eventually demurred to me that Miss Pelham should be attended to before her cousin.

  Eventually he returned. “There is no danger to either of them,” he said, “although they should be kept warm and not venture out until there is a sunny day. The young lady has a slight fever and I have left a supply of powders.”

  “And for my nephew, a further supply?” Lady Pelham sounded positively panicked.

  “I’m afraid that the young man would not allow me to examine him,” he said. “That does not mean that I will not be sending my bill for both.” He shook my hand. “He was rather vehement that I go nowhere near him. However, he sounded in good voice, and his throwing arm seemed not to be suffering from any chill. Good day, Lady Pelham, Major. I shall call on your father in the morning.”

  After he was shown out, Lady Pelham turned to me and took my hand in hers. “Please, go up and see him. Tell him that he must see the doctor. If this chill goes to his chest, he’ll be terribly ill—last year he was in bed for weeks. I thought his life was in danger.” She looked so desperate that I was vanquished and let the servant lead me up to the second floor. It was hardly necessary to point out Adam’s room because the noise he was making could be heard quite clearly as soon as I cleared the first flight of stairs.

  His words were indistinguishable, but it was clear he had not run out of ammunition as regular crashes could be heard. I was not concerned for my life; vases and books and suchlike were not dangerous shrapnel, so I pushed open the door and ducked to one side sharply as a chamber pot (thankfully empty) crashed into the wall beside me.

  Adam was sitting up in bed, his hair beautifully mussed, his charm rather spoiled with a look of black fury. He didn’t look at all unwell, I have to admit, but his colour drained a little at seeing me.

  “If you’re here to make me see that quack,” he growled. “I have my own doctor.”

  “And he is in London,” I said, attempting to be reasonable. “Your aunt is concerned—rather too concerned if you will excuse me saying—of your welfare. Although she is right to be concerned for Miss Pelham.”

  “Oh,” his voice was suddenly sarcastic, “and you swooped in like the white knight you are. Knowing that she may have been displeased with you, you find a ruse to sweeten my aunt to you again. Well done.” He lay back down with an exaggerated flourish and pulled the blankets over his head, muttering something I didn’t catch.

  I moved over the bed. I was seething with a dozen emotions, and his childish behaviour was doing nothing to calm me down. “What did you say?”

  There was no response. So I repeated my demand, grasping the sheets and attempting to pull them from him.

  He struggled childishly and refused to be uncovered. “Go away, Chaloner. That’s one thing you are good at.”

  I wanted to apologise for my pitiful performance the day before. I wanted to tell him that it had been his body that set me alight, the reason I shot my seed like a nervous virgin, because that’s what I was. I wanted him to tell me how he seemed so confident, to confess that Thouless—damn him—had been nothing to him.

  I wanted him to swear to me that he’d never see Thouless again.

  But I didn’t. My damnable sense took control and far too late, some might say. His moods and desires were obviously as transient as smoke—one moment I was what he wanted, and now he wanted me out of his life. I stared at the blankets and my hands itched to pull them from his face.

  But I have never forced myself on anyone, no matter how provoked; it was clear he had changed his mind regarding me. Regarding us, and for the lack of complication that would bring, I was almost relieved. I felt numb as I turned away, feeling like I was leaving something of myself behind, warm and hidden in the blankets with the man who wanted something more than I could give him, or something less. Something more sophisticated than a clumsy soldier. Someone else.

  When I reached the door, he called me but I didn’t turn around. It was better this way, I said to myself. It was all too dangerous, all too complicated and to stop it now, before it had really started, was best for all three of us. All the same, I don’t know how I had the strength to turn the door handle. I heard the sheets rustle and I knew he was sitting up again, but he didn’t say anything other than my name.

  “I’m sorry to have troubled you,” I sai
d without turning around. “I only wished to be of service.” I stepped out into the corridor and shut the door.

  The noise that he made after I left was greater, if anything, than he had before I had entered and more valuable items—by the sound of shattering glass and china—were destroyed. I stormed downstairs, and my expression must have been terrible for the footman fairly cringed to the side to avoid me.

  My mind was made up. What I wanted, I could not have. What I could have, I did not want. When Miss Pelham was well enough to be told, I would apologise to her—as best as I could—and get out of the country. Some damnable place with flies and heat and horses. Some place on some forgotten border where I could do what I was trained to do, not this brittle life of chandeliers and lies. I would tell Miss Pelham first, for it was she who I had wronged by my forced suit.

  Then I would tell my father, and I would take the consequences thereafter. It was not a pleasant prospect, for I would not be welcome back in England until at least after my father died, and the thought of not seeing my brothers again, perhaps never if they took his side, although I hoped they would relent at last, hurt me badly. One thing I could be certain of was that my father’s fortune would not be divided three ways, but two.

  I asked to see Lady Pelham before I left the house. “You are not to worry,” I said, taking her hand in farewell, “Heyward will, I am sure, be up and about in no time. He certainly seems strong enough.”

  “I have no faith in medicine,” she said, “but I trust your father’s judgement. And yours.” She looked seriously distraught and I felt sorry for her until she spoke again, explaining much of what I’d seen of her solicitude. “I promised his mother I would look after him.”

  I bit my tongue on the promises a mother should make for her own daughter and said my goodbyes. It was quite clear to me that I could not withdraw my suit until Miss Pelham was quite recovered, and I promised to call daily, for what else could I do?