Page 19 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
The stage rattled past, stilling further conversation. Braving the elements and riding high above them, a footman and the groom relished a heated debate regarding the extraordinary discovery of a terribly distant place called Antarctica. Hidden inside the carriage, Mr Angel once more addressed his attentions to Lando. Cupping his smooth chin with a firm hand, he brought Lando’s soft mouth to precisely where he wanted it. As his tongue leisurely explored every warm crevice and his clever fingers toyed with Lando’s, Lando decided Mr Angel was far more intoxicating than any amount of claret and fine brandy. And kissing a handsome rogue for no other reason than to assuage his basic needs was a damned fine way to occupy oneself during a long and dull carriage journey.
Chapter Ten
THOUGH KIT WOULDhave enjoyed nothing more than to continue kissing the earl well into the night and probably into the following morning, the opportunity didn’t arise. The earl excused himself on their arrival at his Grosvenor Street residence with a wish to attend to some pressing business. No sooner had he set foot in his residence, his lordship exchanged the ostentatious carriage for his nimble curricle and signalled to an unimpressed Pritchard to join him. He then flamed his way out again, only to turn on his heel and pop back in to issue instructions for Kit to visit his Jermyn Street tailor and allow himself to be exquisitely clothed at the earl’s expense. Before Kit could protest, he’d disappeared.
Whilst not at all what he had planned, it afforded Kit plenty of time to ponder his increasingly lustful attraction to his eccentric new acquaintance.
Kit’s acknowledgement of a preference for his own sex was a story he’d rather not dissect, having made an uneasy truce with it several years ago. For appearances’ sake, he’d courted a couple of chaste local girls in the small Kentish town where he’d been raised, interspersed with some delightful but amateur grappling with one of the farmer’s boys. On moving to London after the death of his father, Kit had sought comfort when needs must, rarely with the same person twice.
The earl was a different kettle of fish altogether. Once he’d fully sampled those delights, Kit had a feeling he’d be loath to dine anywhere else.
To his dismay, he soon discovered that those delights came with a hefty side serving of footman of the beefy, one-eyed variety, whosefoothad already made acquaintance with Kit’s rear. Twice. Seems the second carriage had contained more than the earl’s extensive collection of silk peignoirs.
“I thought I’d left you behind at Rossingley,” Kit grumbled, as the man—Jasper, he recalled—took the reins of yet another of the earl’s carriages. This one was a rather sleek phaeton pulled by a pair of equally sleek greys.
“And I thought I’d left you picking rose thorns out of your arse,” retorted Jasper as they set off at a brisk trot. Brisker than Kit would have liked, they hurtled around the first corner almost as if the man was purposefully making the short journey painful.
“Do footmen even drive carriages?” Kit clutched the rail as they swung around another corner. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself to the tailor’s, you know. Or walking.”
“Following instructions,” said the man mournfully. “I’m to be your valet and groom for as long as his lordship requires it.”
“Val— I don’t need a valet! Nor do I need a trip to the blasted tailors! This coat is perfectly adequate for all my needs.”
“His lordship says it’s not. Coats, breeches, boots, shirts, cravats, waistcoats, evening wear. I have a list.”
“A…a list? I’m not a bloody…a bloody doll to be dressed up and played with!”
Jasper regarded him sidelong. The carriage swerved alarmingly. “No. You’re not.”
Kit cursed. If they hadn’t been travelling at such breakneck speed, he’d have half a mind to leap out. The earl and his tailor be damned. “Well, I’m telling you now, after this ridiculous trip to the tailors, I’ll be heading back to my lodgings.”
“Which have relocated to Grosvenor Street until further notice.” The footman/groom and now erstwhile valet nodded with relish. “Until I am ordered to kick you out again.”
“Damnation,” muttered Kit. He’d managed perfectly well without both the earl and a valet for three and twenty years.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself, sir,” his travelling companion agreed. “I’d rather be facing the Frenchies than pandering to you. And they took my eye.”
Which left Kit in no doubt as to where he stood. This short carriage trip was turning out to be far less pleasurable than the previous one. “Does the earl often temporarily house young men of his acquaintance?”
“No. And if you upset him again, you’ll be the last.”
“I have no intention of it. I spied rosebushes either side of the front door here too.”
The remainder of the uncomfortable journey passed in silence. As Kit reflected on his strange few days, his thoughts inevitably drifted in an earl-ward direction. Abossyearl. And his new accomplice and lover, or would-be lover, at any rate. He’d made his desires perfectly plain, though if he was honest with himself,basic needswere already a poor description of his feelings for his lordship. How could anything related to him be basic, when the man himself was so complex? Which parts of his character were real? The aloof nobleman astride his ill-tempered stallion, the shrewd assessor of Gartside’s failings, or the fey dandy dissolving in his arms, with lips softer than the silk around his neck?
Kit was damned if he knew. Which wasn’t the same as not wanting to find out.
Thankfully, whilst Kit tolerated two hours of manhandling at the tailors, Jasper made himself scarce. A waspish little man, the tailor also seemed unable to find a bad word to say about the earl. He spent the first half of Kit’s fitting proclaiming the earl’s figure and style to be amongst the finest in thetonand the second lamenting how little he saw of him these days. This left very little time for him to ascertain Kit’s identity and background, which was just as well as Kit hadn’t a suitable answer, given that Rossingley hadn’t yet filled him in onthe plan.
When he finally emerged, it was with the intention of sending Jasper, the carriage, and his purchases back to Grosvenor Street, then hailing a hackney to his lodgings. Having left in haste to rescue his sister, he was keen to collect a few belongings and, more importantly, some pilfered trinkets waiting to be sold. Being the earl’s guest was all well and good, but a man still needed to feel he had a little blunt of his own in his pocket. If his circumstances were to suddenly change, Kit needed to be damned ready.
No such luck. Jasper’s expression turned murderous the second Kit broached the idea of taking a trip to the stews without him. Thus, Kit had no alternative but to pull up outside the shabby boarding house in the earl’s fine phaeton, its showy crest emblazoned on the side advertising his return as boldly as a trumpet fanfare. Though, the look of absolute disgust on Jasper’s face as he peered at his surroundings made it almost worthwhile. Kit had a good mind to half inch the man’s purse just for the hell of it.
“Wait here. I’ll be five minutes,” he instructed Jasper.
“I have no intention of going anywhere, sir. Wouldn’t return to any wheels on the carriage if I did. Nor horses.”
“It’s not that bad. You’ve spent too long living in Rossingley splendour. Not all of us gentlemen are blessed with estates and inheritances as grand as the earl’s. Some of us have had to work for a living.”
