Page 45 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

Derrek let out a heavy breath. It could be argued that Jeremy was correct in his assumptions. Anything regarding Conroy and Lord Albert that he discovered could very well pertain directly to him. But a policeman could not and should not be expected to share every little thing he discovered in the course of an investigation, even if it pertained directly to someone who was a part of the investigation.

There was only one thing he could say. “I am sorry that I did not share my activities with you sooner,” he said.

Jeremy was silent for as long as Derrek had been before making a stilted reply of, “I am not entirely certain that it is in either of our best interest for you to continue to be the chief investigator of the plot against me.”

Derrek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was not even close to anything he might have expected his dove to say.

Jeremy let go of some of his tension and fixed Derrek with a frank look. “I did not realize until now how deeply this investigation could divide us. I understand that you have a duty to our king and to law and justice, but I fear that it will come between us and keep us divided when I would much rather the two of us grow closer together.”

For a moment, Derrek did not know what to say. Every part of his mind rebelled at the thought of being taken off of what might very well be the most important case of his life. But Jeremy had a terribly good point. The danger of duty coming between them was greater than he’d thought it was. Idling away in the country had hidden that fact, but now that they were back in London, it could very well push them apart.

“As soon as we have rested and recovered, we will go to Scotland Yard and discuss the case with one of my superiors,” he said. “I’ve kept things mostly to myself on this matter because of questions that might be raised about our connection, but perhaps that is not enough.”

Perhaps there was no way to protect himself in this matter anymore. He’d already been thinking of leaving the Met. He had not communicated with his superiors as much as he should have while he’d been away either. For all he knew, he was not actually a member of the Met any longer because he’d left London for so long. The only way to find out was to go to Scotland Yard to see for himself.

“I believe that would be a wise idea,” Jeremy said, lowering his eyes as if he’d won the argument but was no longer certain of his victory. “And perhaps after, we can go to my shop,” he added. “Though I believe it would be wise to sleep for the rest of the morning.”

Jeremy’s tension seemed to melt away with the suggestion of sleep, and so did Derrek’s. He smiled and stood, dripping water everywhere.

“Come on, dove,” he said holding out his hand to help Jeremy stand. “Let’s dry off and wrap ourselves in that cozy bed over there. Matters will seem clearer after a rest.”

Jeremy smiled and took his hand. For a moment, Derrek worried what would happen if he ever let go.

Sixteen

Sometimes sleep was a peaceful journey of rejuvenation and splendor, especially when one slept in the arms of their beloved. For Jeremy, the rest of that morning and into the afternoon brought the unsatisfying sleep of exhaustion that did very little to refresh his soul. Even though he fell asleep in Derrek’s arms, he felt as though that embrace was more of a prison than a comfort.

Why had Derrek not shared the details of his investigation with him? Was it because he thought him too weak-minded to face the harsh realities of being the target of someone’s nefarious schemes? It seemed as though as long as Jeremy had lived and been aware of himself, he’d been judged as soft because he was more effeminate than other men his age. To suddenly discover that Derrek might feel that way as well was a blow he had not been prepared for.

He was almost glad when he woke up to find himself alone in bed. He’d sprawled, as he was wont to do in his sleep, and the bed was most definitely cool and devoid of his lover. His restless sleep had left him groggy, and when he turned to look around the room, all he could really determine was that it was afternoon and Derrek was not there.

With a huffed sigh of disappointment, he rolled out of the rather comfortable and luxurious bed, used the chamber pot behind a screen in the corner of the room, donned the robe that The Chameleon Club’s servants had brought up earlier, and wandered into the antechamber that made up the other room of the suite.

Derrek was there, dressed in the borrowed clothing that had been brought up along with their baths, poring over what looked to be the day’s issue ofThe London Times. Jeremy paused in the doorway between the two rooms, wanting to study Derrek for a few moments before he was noticed and the sudden, uncomfortable tension between them returned.

He neither welcomed nor wanted that tension. Derrek was the most beautiful thing in his life. He was the reason the country had been so lovely. Well, him and Clary. Derrek was the reason he had not been afraid when fear was precisely what he should have been feeling so far from the only home he’d ever known, with evil men intent on killing him. Derrek was the reason that time would forever live in his memory as some of the most beautiful weeks of his life.

He could only pray that those weeks were the beginning of a long life of love and joy, not merely an interlude that had ended too soon.

Derrek noticed him standing in the doorway almost at once and lowered the paper. He attempted to smile, but Jeremy could see the strain in it. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Jeremy tied his robe tighter and wandered sheepishly into the room. “Not as much as I’d hoped, no,” he said. He tried to be casual and manly in his demeanor as he walked to the long sofa where Derrek sat and took a seat beside him. “Is there anything of interest inThe Times?”

“The usual,” Derrek reported. “Rumblings on the Continent, rumors of the king’s ill health, financial speculation.”

Jeremy searched for a way to begin the things he wanted to say in those words but did not find much to build with. “Nothing about Conroy or the Duchess of Kent?”

Derrek shrugged. “I am certain the society pages say something about the Duchess and Princess Victoria. Something somewhere must be said about the princess’s upcoming birthday celebrations.”

Jeremy nodded and hummed. He did not particularly care about the grand parties and balls of theton, though as a tailor, he was expected to know things about them in order to converse with his clients. But as they were all men, their interests were more in line with who of influence might be attending such events that they could broker business deals with.

Clary would love everything to do with the various events of theton, though. She would likely bubble over with gossip, indulging in every morsel journals and the like had to print about each event.

Thinking of Clary only depressed Jeremy’s spirits more, however. Given the sudden awkwardness between him and Derrek, he could have found a great deal of solace in his friend’s company.

“I do not know how to?—”

“We should go to Scotland Yard if you want someone else protecting you,” Derrek spoke at the same time as him, cutting Jeremy off.

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