Page 20 of Enemies with an Earl
This was the exact kind of case Felix loved assisting with. Robbie and Neville were good, genuine people, yet for reasons he would never understand, their country had decided these two should be put to death, simply because they loved each other.
“What do we… How do we pay you—the organization? In installments, or…” Robbie trailed off, his fidgeting starting up again.
“You owe us nothing,” Felix said firmly.
“But all of this… The expense, the time to organize the journey…”
Felix shook his head. “No. We demand nothing of you. England has done you two a disservice. We are doing our small part to make up for that. To show that not everyone in this country holds those values. We are fighting for change. But until the day love is accepted for all, this is how we make a difference.”
Robbie exhaled shakily and dropped his elbows on his knees, eyes squeezed shut tight. “Thank you,” he managed in a choked voice.
Felix leaned forward and squeezed the lad’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came to us.”
The footman lifted his chin, a small smile on his face as his watery gaze met Felix’s
“This is not a small thing,” Felix murmured. “Uprooting yourself and starting over in a new country. I will work through the details. We’ll coordinate with you and your partner to plan the timing and logistics, ensuring everything aligns with you both. But know you are in good hands.”
Felix stood and when it didn’t appear Robbie was able to follow, he helped the poor dazed man to his feet. “Are you going to be well, son?”
Robbie shook his head, clearly trying to shake himself from his stupor. “Yes, my lord. I apologize. I think I am just slightly overwhelmed by all that you’re offering. It’s almost hard to believe it’s real.”
Felix smiled. “You’re not the first to feel unmoored by it all. If you think of any other questions while I’m here, I’m happy to address them. Of course, discretion is paramount. Your anonymity is assured, and we expect the same in return—unless, of course, you know of someone else—”
A quiet throat-clearing cut Felix off, freezing him in place.
Thorne stood just inside the door, gaze unreadable as it flicked between Felix and Robbie. Where Felix and Robbie stood quite close together. Too close together.
Felix took a large step backward. “Ah, you’ve finally managed to answer my summons,” Felix said brusquely, slipping back into the role of all powerful Earl—the one who moved through the world unchallenged. He turned to Robbie. “Thank you for assisting with my fire. You may go.”
The lad darted past Thorne, squeezing through the narrow gap between Thorne and the door, and out of the room.
“My waistcoat has been stained.” Felix flicked his hand toward the dressing table. “I’ll need you to address—”
Thorne was on Felix before he could form another word, crowding him as he stumbled backward. Felix’s back hit the wall, his eyes stretching wide. Then his spine snapped straight, and his brain finally caught up with what was happening. He opened his mouth—
“You dare take advantage of the servants here at Devonford Castle?” Thorne’s low, hard words cut through Felix, fisting Felix’s lungs. Or perhaps that was the jolt of terror surging forward at the accusation the man was inferring.
“I caught him partaking in the most unnatural and heinous of crimes with another man.”
Felix’s body shook with the force of trying to drown out the voice. One breath in. One breath out.
“If you are to inspect him, you will have sufficient proof of his crimes.”
Panic rose inside him, piercing and painful, clawing up his throat, grasping desperate fingers of fear.
No!He was the lord here.He wasn’t in a courtroom. He wasn’t before a magistrate. The man before him was nothing but a servant.
A sneer curled Thorne’s lips, almost like he could hear Felix’s thoughts. “Don’t underestimate me because I’m a manservant,my lord. Trust me when I say being the valet for the Duke of Devonford gives me a power you would be foolish to ignore.”
A volatile rage, one fed by fear and that much more dangerous for it, had Felix pushing off the wall, forcing Thorne back with a hard press of his chest.
“Are you threatening me?” he spat.
“That depends,” Thorne replied, his voice unnervingly soft. “I thought you merely intolerable. But you’re one of them, aren’t you? One of those lords who uses their power to prey on the vulnerable. And then youdisposeof us like we’re vermin.”
Felix’s jaw ached as he clamped it even tighter. The gall of the man. He framed it as a question, but the disgust dripping from his words left no doubt that he believed it.
“I. Prey. On. No one,” Felix bit out. The words came out like venom. Every ounce of hurt, of betrayal from all those years ago—whenFelixwas the one preyed on—came through in his tone. Sharp. Scathing.
