Page 1 of To Defend a Damaged Duke
Prologue
London, 1813
AT THE BACKof the fruit and veg market in Convent Garden, a showman scraped a living.Every Tuesday and Friday, for more years than Tommy Squire had been alive.Same patch, same old rickety stall, same old rickety routine.Same anticlimactic finale.Declaring himself the world’s greatest magician, he’d hold aloft a playing card, purse his wrinkled, whiskery lips, and pretend to blow the spots off it.Tommy had watched him fumble the cards up his sleeve hundreds of times; seen him drop them on occasion too.And yet, on his mother’s grave, even as he wriggled a grubby knave down from his elbow to his wrist, the old sot still swore it was magic.
Tommy was reminded of that showman whenever the lordling’s black eyes, like two jet pearls, fluttered closed.Usually, the memory came seconds after the lordling’s throat made a helpless little whine, speaking its own language, directly into Tommy heart.It heralded the shortest sliver of time before he spilled into Tommy’s mouth and then pressed his lips against Tommy’s, tasting himself on them.Whispering sweet nonsense.
Those were the times Tommy remembered that old showman and his frayed cards, and it was only years later he understood what he meant.The daft sod had spun the story to himself so many times, believing in the magic of it, he ended up fooling himself.
*
“OUR YOUNG LORDLING’Shere, Tommy.Waiting in the best room.”Ma Duggan’s expression soured, matching the sallow hue of her downturned sneer.“Taken off upstairs already to get hisself ready.He’s asked for you.”
Fancying himself as a bit of an actor—he had to be in this business if he wanted paying right—Tommy pretended not to notice young Dickie flouncing out of the parlour.Nor Sidney’s jealous sulk.After all, who could blame them?The handsome lordling had caught everyone’s eye.
“I’ll be there when I’ve finished me tea.Won’t hurt him to wait a minute or two.”
Tommy could control his face, keep it blank.And his voice flat.But the mad thumping in his chest?Not a chance.No more than he could prevent the spirited rush of joy to his head, nor the twitching of his prick.Not when his beloved raven-haired beauty impatiently paced six feet above his head.
He carried up a jug of ale, not pausing to check himself in the glass hung at the bottom of the stairs.He didn’t need to; Tommy’s pretty looks hadn’t waned since he examined them last.Dress him in a corset and stays, and Sidney declared he could work alongside the girls in the bawdy house on the corner.He scratched at the door, thrice, his pulse hammering.
“Tommy.At last.I was growing quite weak with want.”
Already, the lordling had removed his hat and coat, all the better for Tommy to admire his raven locks curling over his stiff collar.Unfastening his cravat with an urgent flourish, he was as eager as Tommy, more so, if the swelling in his breeches was any measure.They were of an age, the raven and Tommy—Tommy eighteen years young to the raven’s seventeen.Yet both so sure.
“My lord.”In the demure fashion he’d perfected, Tommy bobbed his head.The lordling blushed with delight.He relieved Tommy of the laden tray, and his plump mouth twisted into a smile.His hooded eyes, dark as night, latched onto Tommy’s.
“Afterwards with this, Tommy.My…my need for you can wait no longer.”
Thebest roomwasn’t much to crow about.Nothing but a slender bed with a mean pillow, worn sheets, and a wooden chair upon which his handsome raven had tossed his coat.Around a water pitcher, his paying guest’s silk cravat lay unfurled like a banner.Tommy’s threadbare neckcloth joined it.
“Then you must have at me, my lord.”Behind his ribs, his soft heart trembled.“I am yours.”
In pulled up undershirts and pushed down breeches, they tussled on the bed.A pair of kittens let loose in the sunshine.Tommy kissed his raven on the mouth, the only madge he’d ever kissed, but then none of the other madges tasted so sweet.Or returned his kisses with such unmatched desire.
“Tommy,” the lordling groaned as Tommy’s hand found his heavy cock.Already, his smooth fingers gripped Tommy’s more modest member with a familiarity borne of a summer of snatched rendezvous in this simple, private chamber.“Want you,” he sighed, his promise slipping over Tommy like satin.“Forever.”
That first release, as always, came blessedly fast.A race, a relief, a ritual.And if Tommy let his mind go there, it was an unhappy reminder of his true purpose—to let the raven pay for Tommy’s clever hand, and handsomely too.The prettiest youth in the house must pleasure him as he saw fit.That the lordling only ever asked for the plainest of pleasures, and that he pleasured Tommy in return, that he whispered words of affection and held Tommy in his arms as they dozed awhile afterwards, were transactions they kept to themselves.
“Alas, I have but a few more minutes,” the lordling said, wiping Tommy tenderly.Dropping the cloth to the dusty floor, he scooped him up against his chest.“Mama and Grandmama are conducting the serious business of purchasing hat ribbons at Madame Bellevue’s.I am to join them.Apparently”—and at this, he blessed Tommy with a wicked grin—“I am in dire need of two new cravats.”
Tommy fumbled for the one so hastily discarded earlier and pretended to examine it, rubbing the fine fabric between finger and thumb.
“Goodness, yes.This issolast season,” he drawled in an approximation of the lordling’s own cultured vowels, making the other laugh.A most joyful sound, Tommy wanted to capture it and pin it like a moth.
The lordling caught the length of silk as Tommy tossed it aside.Then, easily, because he was so much bigger than Tommy, he rolled him onto his back.Taking Tommy’s slim wrist above his head, the lordling turned it over and pressed his lips to the thin skin, tracing the fragile tangle of blue veins with his tongue as if a path leading to his wildest dreams.
“You dare mock me, Master Tommy?”His scolding was ruined by an escaping giggle.“Then I shall punish you by tying you to the bed.With last season’s cravat, too; oh, the shame of it.”
Pouting, Tommy fluttered his eyelashes.With his fair curls and eyes the docile blue of a china doll, he was a picture of innocence.“That is no punishment at all, my lord.”
“Don’t be too hasty, Tommy.”The lordling wound a loop of cloth around Tommy’s wrist, playfully pulling it tight.“I haven’t yet outlined my plans for when I have you all tied up and at my mercy.”
Anything.You can do anything.
He kissed Tommy’s mouth.“I shall tease you, relentlessly,” he murmured, his tongue stealing Tommy’s breath.“Starting here.”
With his wrist now secured to the bedstead, Tommy tugged a little, sighing with pleasure as lips ghosted along his jaw.Groaning, the lordling buried his face into Tommy’s neck.
