Page 52 of To Tempt a Troubled Earl
Kit kissed his fingers again. “Amen to that.”
Sighing contentedly, he nuzzled against the top of Lando’s head. He’d never felt a need to kiss a man as much as his lips sought any part of Lando and marvelled that his need for him was not sated despite their recent exertions.
“Gartside offered two hundred pounds.” Kit allowed himself a quick flare of satisfaction. “If I secure the deal as his, and another fifty pounds when it’s done. I accepted, naturally; the money will be delivered here by this evening.”
“Then we should celebrate. We have him in our grasp.”
“We do,” agreed Kit hesitantly.
Lando tilted his chin up to look at him. “I sense it does not give you pleasure.”
“Oh, it does.” Kit half-smiled. “That vile man is trapped; this will not end well for him. Though…” He shifted. “I still have a suspicion it will end awkwardly for me too.”
“Shhh.” Lando pressed a finger to Kit’s mouth. “Don’t say that.”
“I must. I cannot deny the uneasiness in my bones. It heralds a natural end to our association too. As cocooned as I am now in this…this—” He swept an arm encompassing the opulence surrounding him. “—splendour, nonetheless, I am masquerading as someone I am not and fear being apprehended by the hour.”
“You know I will do everything in my power to prevent it,” replied Lando swiftly. “Robert and I have an idea and though I confess to not having the finer details thought out, if it fails then I am a peer of the realm. Even in these enlightened times, my word carries weight. It pains me, too, that you are at risk.”
“I chose of my own free will to go along with your plan,” countered Kit. “I knew the consequences. And Gartside’s downfall is worth it.” He sighed heavily. “But even if I wriggle through this, there still remains the thorny problem of Mr Clark. Granted, he is trouble of my own making and should be of no concern of yours, and yet, he is on my trail. I have broken the law on many occasions, and I do not wish for you to become tainted by an association with a common thief such as I. When this Gartside business is put to bed, if I walk away a free man, then I must escape his clutches by returning to Kent. I will use Sir Brandon’s and my uncle’s connections to seek honest employ.” He pecked the tip of Lando’s finger then let it go. “And Rossingley is quite a few miles from Kent.”
Lando drew himself up onto his elbows, his worried eyes roaming Kit’s face. “Do not speak of that now. Not when we have this…us. We are a beginning, not an end. It does not have to be that way. My brother, Robert, thinks we may come through this unscathed. He has made enquiries regarding Clark. You must put your trust in him. And in me.”
Trust. It walked hand in hand with love, even if occasionally it lagged behind. As Lando offered it so sincerely, so bravely, how Kit wished he could grab it with both hands.
“I am saddened that I struggle to see the future as clearly as you, Lando. But I must carve my own path. Regrettably, that cannot be at Rossingley, where I have neither home, family, or connections, nor here in London. Most definitely not here in London, not if I wish that path to be a lengthy one. Though, it pains me to say it, as I wish for nothing more than to spend my days in close acquaintance with you.”
Lando’s glittery eyes beseeched him; he looked anxious. And beautiful. “Then let us not try to see the whole future”—his voice trembled with hope—“Let us live by the day. Let us see to the end of this Gartside business and then speak again as we do now. Frankly and openly as lovers and friends. Can you do that for me, Kit?”
His lips met Kit’s urgently as if showing the future to Kit if only he had the courage to believe in it.
As they broke apart, Kit answered, “I have said it before.” He smiled and shook his head. “There is nothing I will not do for you. Especially when your body lies naked on mine and your lips”—he chased them again—“taste so sweet.”
Lando’s fingers stroked across Kit’s mouth as if learning the shape of it. His gaze dropped. “I know it is not polite to speak of one lover whilst in bed with another. But if I may, there is something I must share with you.” He toyed with Kit’s earring, rolling it between his finger and thumb. “I hope it is not too much too soon. But I can think of no other way to reassure you that I shan’t allow anything dreadful to befall you. Robert and I will never let that happen.”
“I shall try my utmost to believe that to be true.”
“I grieved Charles’s passing terribly, Kit. For three long years. And yet, at the same time, even in the depths of my melancholia, I understood all things must pass and even grew to accept that he had been my allotted portion of joy.” He gave a rueful smile. “That the precious short time we had together was my due. And I did not complain. Mourned, yes. God, how I mourned. But not complain.”
He swallowed as if it pained him. “And…and then you came along. And it seems our Lord has seen fit to afford me a second allocation of joy. One I shall not squander. So, though your path today may be covered in rocks and stones, it will not be that way forever. When all is said and done, we shall be together. I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
AS A RULE, anxiety’s nimble tread tiptoed through Lando’s mind and out the other side with nary a pause. Melancholia generally stayed a while, and when absent, Lando was not averse to vanity’s dancing feet. Though he’d deny it all day long. But anxiety and a weakness of the nerves never tarried, which was why today’s vacillation was all the more surprising.
“If I forewarn Kit of our plans regarding Clark, then I’m convinced he will give himself away to Gartside,” Lando fretted for at least the fourth time. “We must use the element of surprise to our advantage, and I fear if Kit is in on it, then he might not behave in front of the others in the manner in which I intend.”
Pritchard’s expression told him he’d begun to find Lando’s fussing quite wearing. Along with London life in general. The sooner Pritchard was back at Rossingley and enjoying the comforts found within Inglis’s capable hands, the better his valet’s humour would be.
“He is not half the actor Tommy is,” Lando continued. “He wears his heart too close to his sleeve; he’ll give us all away. But if I don’t forewarn him, he will suffer such a dreadful shock he might loathe me forever after, even when all is revealed.”
Pritchard tutted. Again. His well of subtlety had run dry, evidently. “My lord. If you believe that bag of moonshine, then I’ll be wondering if you also took a cudgel to the head. Loathe you? Fat chance of that. The man is besotted.”
They were returning in the phaeton from Coutt’s on the Strand, having deposited Gartside’s two hundred pounds for safekeeping. Wracked with nerves on the drive out, on account of being laden with so much money, Pritchard’s usual gripes regarding his employer’s penchant for speed had been forgotten. Now, with an empty purse and a nagging headache borne of his lordship’s wittering, they returned in full flow.
“And if you don’t slow down, there will be nothing left of you to loathe, my lord. Really, that last bend was not designed to be taken with two wheels in the air.”
“But afterward, Pritchard, when all is revealed, do you truly believe he’ll forgive me and accept my invitation to return as my guest to Rossingley?”
