Page 44 of Chasing Benedict
A sense of foreboding made Alex’s heart sink into his stomach, and his hand shook as he opened the door.
A footman gave Alex a curt bow before informing him that his father had sent for him.“He’s waiting in his study and wishes to see you at once.”
Swallowing the acidic bile rising in his throat, Alex kept his face free of all expression as he dismissed the footman. Running his fingers through his hair, Alex closed the door and leaned his forehead against it. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, telling himself that he hadn’t been caught. No one but Hamond knew of his plans, and the valet was loyal to Alex and had his own secrets to keep. Alex couldn’t imagine that the man would have betrayed him.
This was nothing to be worried over. His father likely wanted to speak to him about some trivial matter. Perhaps he couldn’t sleep and wanted Alex to join him for a cigar. Maybe there was an estate matter he wanted Alex’s opinion on.
Yes, that was it. Alex pulled away from the door and forced his feet to move—wanting to get this over with, and hoping that his father would turn in soon so he could depart. If he didn’t leave tonight, Ben would be forced to wait a day or more for Alex to arrive.
Despite having convinced himself that he was still safe, Alex grew nauseous, his limbs sapped of strength. He couldn’t ignore the premonition telling him that something was terribly wrong.
It was easy enough to determine why he’d been summoned once Alex entered his father’s study. The earl sat behind his desk with a stack of folded papers before him, his head resting in his hands. But, it wasn’t his father that drew Alex’s attention, but the third person standing near the hearth, staring at Alex as if he were a pile of excrement.
His anxiety heightened when he met the gaze of Lord Malcolm Sterling. The viscount was a handsome man, having passed his looks down to Ben, as well as his Corinthian frame. The subtle difference between father and son was in the eyes. Ben had bright, clear eyes that twinkled with mischief, laughter, and secrets. By contrast, Viscount Sterling possessed the coldest, deadest eyes Alex had ever seen. And just now, they clearly radiated hatred and scorn as he looked at Alex, his lips pinched tight.
Tearing his gaze away from Ben’s father, Alex faced his own. “Father? You wanted to see me?”
The earl kept his head lowered, shaking it from side to side as he murmured in a broken voice, “Not my son … it can’t be true. Where did I go wrong?”
Alex’s throat constricted, and he could hardly draw breath. Yet he remained aware of Viscount Sterling’s presence, and did his best not to show it outwardly.
“Father, what’s wrong?” He turned back to the viscount, a sudden thought occurring to him. “Has something happened to Ben?”
Even as he asked, he knew it to be a ridiculous question. The viscount wouldn’t care enough to inform Ben’s closest friends of an injury or death. There was only one reason he could be here, but Alex didn’t want to be the one to bring it up.
His father slowly raised his head, staring at Alex with reddened eyes and a trembling chin. “Alex … the viscount has brought me disturbing news. I was certain it couldn’t be true, but … this is your handwriting.”
Alex felt as if he’d been punched squarely in the chest as his father pushed the papers across his desk. They were unfolded, revealing his meticulous handwriting, his words. The lines swam before his unfocused eyes—words he knew by heart. The letters were deeply intimate, the revelations of his heart and mind. He and Ben had never used their names out of an abundance of caution, referring to one another as ‘My dearest,’ ‘My darling,’ or simply ‘sweetheart.’ The contents, however, were unmistakable. No one reading them would ever think they’d been penned from a man to a woman.
That these letters were now in his father’s possession meant they had been found out. It wouldn’t be difficult, in the face of such evidence, to deduce who Ben’s secret lover was. They had spent nearly every break from Eton and Cambridge together, and even Sterling had to know how close they were. Perhaps the viscount had suspected them all along, and the letters merely served as proof.
Alex fumbled for words but found none. The accusation in his father’s eyes and the viscount’s imposing presence told him he wouldn’t be believed if he tried to explain this away.
“There, you see?” Sterling said, approaching from across the room. “He doesn’t deny it. My son couldn’t either when I confronted him with what I had found. And it was none too soon, for I discovered that he has left the city and taken most of his possessions with him. I suspect you will find Alex’s things packed in preparation for this same journey. I know very well what Benedict is up to. He has corrupted your son, turned him into a twisted, immoral sodomite!”
“That isn’t true!” Alex blurted without thinking. “That wasn’t the way of it. Your son isn’t twisted or broken. He is a good man, and you treat him as if he is undeserving of your love. But he isn’t, and if I’m the only one who can see that, then so be it!”
He closed his mouth then, realizing too late that he’d said too much. Alex hadn’t been able to hold his tongue, enraged at the insinuation that he was so weak-minded that someone could warp him beyond his own nature. If anything, Alex had been the one to push and prod, to coax Ben into accepting the truth about himself.
“Something must be done,” the viscount insisted. “They are our heirs and have a duty to their good names and the titles they will inherit. Benedict wasn’t born my heir, but much to my distaste, fate has placed him in a position to gain everything that is mine. I won’t have my estate going to a man who takes up with mollies!”
Alex’s father had been silent all this time, staring unseeingly across the room, but at this assertion, he blinked and shook his head. Staring at Alex, his grieved expression hardened into resolution, his hands clenched into fists.
“He’s right,” the earl said, coming to his feet. “You have been corrupted, and perhaps that failure is my own. I didn’t do enough to teach you what it is to be a man, hoping that a gentleman’s education would be enough. Clearly, you require further guidance. It is up to me to take you in hand.”
Before Alex could argue that he was beyond the age of his majority and not required to do as his father dictated, the viscount cut in.
“What he needs is a wife … the both of them do. I have selected someone suitable enough for Benedict, but he will not wed her if he thinks he still has a chance to ensnare your son in his plans.”
Alex’s mouth fell open as the two men went on discussing he and Ben as if they were children and not grown men, making plans of their own. “Have you gone mad? Neither Ben nor I will be forced into anything!”
“Yes,” the earl agreed, addressing the viscount as if he hadn’t heard Alex’s exclamation. “Alex should marry as soon as possible. Once it is done, you would do well to keep your son away from mine.”
The viscount clenched his hands, his knuckles cracking ominously as he offered a menacing smile. “I will ensure that he does. Perhaps it would be best if your son and his bride vacate London. Distance should do well enough to cool them of their sinful passions.”
“I won’t do it,” Alex argued. “Do you hear? I will not let you plan my future as if I am some milksop!”
The viscount stepped closer, a vein in his forehead pulsing with rage. “You will marry, and you will do it willingly. If you refuse—”
