The wind caught his hair and tunneled through the locks as if it were his lover’s fingers. The sigh and creak of the airship as it tugged at its moorings occasionally drowned out Nash’s soft moans and the slap of flesh upon flesh. The sharp prickle of beard stubble against his neck caused him to arch his back. A wicked chuckle reached his ears as hot breath soughed over his skin. He shivered.

A groan vibrated against his throat and he turned his head, his own stubble catching on Jack’s as their mouths met in a kiss furious with uncontained lust. Nash pushed his hips back toward Jack. Impaled on Jack’s thick cock, he reveled in the sensation of being taken out in the open, bent over the rail of his own airship, and made to submit to Jack’s decadent will.

The wind whistled a little through the stanchions as the afternoon breeze picked up. Jack nipped at the lobe of his ear. One of his knees pressed Nash’s thighs farther apart and the angle of Jack’s thrusts changed so that he now hit Nash’s gland with every stroke. When Nash moaned again, he could feel Jack’s smile against his skin as his lover licked and nibbled along his neck.

His cock hung heavy, the tip wet with a steady flow of pre-cum. He bent backward into Jack’s embrace, loving the feel of those arms, heavy with muscle, holding him, possessing him as surely as Jack’s cock possessed his arse. As Jack’s thrusts grew more rapid, less controlled, more fierce, he reached his hand down and stroked Nash’s thigh. Nash quivered at the caress and then shuddered in ecstasy as Jack’s hand closed around the thick base of his cock.

Mouth open in bliss, Nash let his head fall back onto Jack’s shoulder. He let Jack orchestrate every move, every lick, suck and caress as they raced toward their fulfillment. Jack stroked him masterfully, his hand gliding the length of Nash’s cock, his fist slipping over the head, his thumb teasing the spot beneath the crown. When Nash cried out, shaking with sensation, Jack smiled against his throat again.

“Are you going to come for me, my sky pirate?” he whispered as his hips pushed against Nash’s backside, his cock plunging deep into Nash’s anus.

Nash whimpered. Jack loved to torture him. It was a good thing Nash loved this kind of torture. His ass might be tender for the next twenty four hours but it was always worth it. No one had ever fucked him as thoroughly as Jack Starr.

“Should I pull out and drop to my knees and suck every drop of that cream leaking from your cock? Should I suck and suck until your balls draw tight and your cum fills my mouth and throat?”

Jack’s dirty whispers made Nash whimper again. Louder this time.

“You love it when my cock reams your ass, don’t you?”

Nash couldn’t contain the needy moans that escaped his mouth. His whole body trembled as Jack’s hands, cock, mouth and words pushed him closer to orgasm. And just like Jack said, he could feel his balls pull up tight as heat sizzled up his spine.

“Yes, Jack! I love it when you fuck me!” he cried out, uncaring if any of his crew heard him.

Jack twisted as he thrust, his hips drilling his cock into Nash’s tender hole. The head pushed against Nash’s gland and fireworks exploded inside him. With an incoherent cry, Nash came, his cock spewing creamy jism over Jack’s long fingers and onto the side railing of the airship.

“Oh, my pirate, my Nash. You’re so beautiful when you come,” Jack’s voice rasped in Nash’s ear, punctuated by uneven breaths and pants. “Your tight ass squeezes me until I can’t bear the pleasure.”

“Fill my ass with your cum, you bastard. Do it!” Nash gritted out as his body continued to shudder and shake.

With a loud groan, Jack came. His copious fluids filled Nash to overflowing until he felt it trickle down his ass crack and inner thigh. He loved how Jack left him hot and sticky with cum, branded by the scent of his lover’s semen. A raw sound of pleasure escaped him as Jack’s hard body covered him from the back of his neck to his hips. Firm lips sought his own and he surrendered to Jack’s kiss.

After long moments had passed and their bodies had ceased to shudder, Jack began to pull free of Nash’s ass. The wet glide of Jack’s softened cock along his sensitive flesh made Nash shiver. He hated it when Jack wasn’t inside him. He wished they could stay connected always. When he’d first expressed that sentiment to Jack, his lover had laughed and commented that it would sure make it difficult to ride a horse.

“Come on, slut. Let’s clean you up. I’m sure luncheon is ready by now.” Jack helped Nash to stand upright on legs that quivered.

“My crew is always punctual. We’re the ones who can’t ever manage to make it to meals on time,” Nash reminded the spy.

Jack laughed and slung his arm around Nash’s shoulders. “That’s because I can’t resist you. Whenever you’re near me, my cock wants to be inside you.”

“You’re just as much as slut as I am, Jack.” Nash grinned at his lover and received a kiss in return.

Jack’s face was set in an expression of satisfaction that would have rivaled a cat with huge dish of cream. “You love it. We can stand out here on the deck in the fresh air and pound away at each other like a pair of loose moraled courtesans and no one can stop us. It’s a freedom I don’t ever want to lose.”

“Speaking of courtesans, I love how incestuous we’ve become with your first lover now fucking my brother.” Nash headed toward his cabin and Jack followed close behind, his hands always reaching out to touch Nash.

“I don’t know if that’s a very good pairing,” Jack grunted.

Nash stopped at the door to his cabin. He turned his head and stared at Jack in shock. His lover had a frown wrinkling his brow.

“What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see they are head over ears for each other? Why wouldn’t you be happy for Anthony?”

Jack pushed past Nash into the cabin. He headed for the small washroom. “I’d be happy for Anthony if Anthony was happy. But he’s not.”

His muffled voice drew Nash into the tiny room where Jack washed himself with a warm, wet cloth. He rinsed it and began to wash Nash.

“They will work out their problems. I have faith,” Nash told him. “My brother can be somewhat less than confident when it’s a man he has true feelings for.”

“And Anthony is blind and still encumbered by feelings of rejection I instilled him by leaving him in such a poor manner all those years ago.” Jack sighed and tossed the wash cloth into the tiny sink. “I should probably explain myself to Anthony. Maybe it will help right the wrong I perpetrated against him.”

Nash punched him lightly in the shoulder and strolled back into his cabin to dress. “You should. It’s only fair. You ruined the man’s life, Jack. The least you could do is tell him why and tell him how you really felt. He thinks you never cared about him. That’s rather cruel, you know.”

Regret colored Jack’s expression as he too began to dress. “I know. I know. I was a bastard to Anthony. I was from the very beginning. I let him think I was experienced and I wasn’t. I let him believe a lot of things that weren’t true and it was wrong of me to do such a thing to a man I considered my best friend.”

“So fix it. You have a whole journey to Venice in which to do so.” Nash buttoned his shirt halfway and left it like that. He leaned against a dresser and watched Jack finish dressing. “My brother will appreciate your efforts I’m sure. Especially if it makes Anthony more open to keeping him around forever.”

Jack cocked his head to one side and stared at Nash with a hard glint in his eyes. “You really think your brother can keep Anthony amused for the rest of his life?”

Nash nodded. “Absolutely. Shelley adores Anthony. Can’t you see that?”

“No.” Jack made a disgusted sound. “He’s a butterfly, your brother. I don’t see how he can keep a man of substance like Anthony happy outside of the bedroom.”

Pushing off from the dresser, Nash turned for the door. “You’re not thinking like a spy, Jack. You’re thinking like a jealous former lover. Shelley is everything Anthony needs and more. If Shel’s a butterfly, why the hell do you think my father called him home? My father deals in absolutes. He doesn’t tolerate hedonism for the sake of hedonism. He knows there’s more to Shelley than meets the eye.”

Nash stopped in the airship corridor and pulled Jack against him. “Start thinking like a spy again, Jack. We’re into something deep here and I need you to pull your head out of your arse. I’m here. I’m safe. We’re together. Now, start looking at everything with your brain and not your emotions.”

Jack sighed and wrapped his arms around Nash. “I’m sorry. Your kidnapping tossed me up. I promise to watch Anthony and Shelley during the trip so I can see what you see.”

“Good!” Nash dropped a hard kiss on Jack’s mouth. “Now, let’s eat. You fucked me so hard I’m famished and need sustenance if you’re going to fuck me again later.”

Jack laughed and Nash hid a grin. He relished the coming trip for more reasons than the opportunity it afforded him to be with Jack. And he hoped to God that the trip proved fruitful for all the passengers. Even if they didn’t get to indulge in sky sex.

It turned out Spence was nothing like the chatter box Jacob was, and the companionable quiet came as a relief to Leo. And the relief itself, as a surprise. He’d never consciously disliked Jacob’s company, or the younger man’s constant nattering. Walking towards the wharf with Spence, he found he was enjoying the occasional and quiet conversation, as well as the spaces of contemplation between.

“You don’t talk much,” Spence observed as they neared the warehouses at the opposite end of the harbor street housing Jacob’s workspace.

“No, I suppose that is true,” Leo replied. “To be honest, keeping company with Jacob, one rarely has to talk. Just listen.”

Spence smiled. “He does go on, I’ve noticed. Especially when he talks about his great submarine. Have you seen it?” His voice betrayed a kind of child-like curiosity and eagerness that made Leo glance over at him.

“I have. I confess, though, I have no head for the gadgetry he finds so fascinating.”

“Oh.” Spence sounded almost disappointed and Leo cocked his head. He didn’t have a chance to explain before Spence moved on, however.

“Then why do you keep such close company with him?”

As Leo watched, a pink tinge crept up into Spence’s cheeks, and here was another thing that set this man apart from Leo’s usual company. Alexi never blushed like that.

“I-if you don’t mind my asking.” Spence sighed. “I rather think that was an inappropriate question. Do forgi—“

“Nothing to forgive, Spence,” Leo interjected, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Nothing at all. Jacob and I, we’ve known one another our whole lives. I suppose, in part, our association is simple habit.”  A frown crowded over his face as he thought more deeply on his answer. “Really, I suppose we have nothing in common except one another.” He couldn’t decide if that fact was new or just one he had long since accepted and put aside as unimportant.

“And yet you remain with him,” Spence observed.

“Out of obligation, I suppose.” The response was true. To an extent. No one had ever prompted him to examine his friendship with Alexi. Like eating, sleeping, breathing, the relationship was just another unquestioned, unquestionable facet of his being.

While the former three rewarded him with life, however, Alexi’s companionship gave so much more. Leo glanced over to the quiet doctor at his side. And at the same time, required so much more. Here beside him was a simple man, Leo thought. A sad one, maybe, but simple. Easy to be around in a very uncomplicated, refreshing way.

“You have rooms at the club, then,” Leo asked, wishing to steer the conversation away from the knotty issue of his best friend.

Spence nodded. “It’s easier. I tend to get…lost in research, at times. Having rooms there saves me from too many questions at home.”

“Home being…?” Leo asked, curious.

“My father’s townhouse.”  Spence shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “My parents can be stifling, but I understand their over-protectiveness. After all, I was hurt very badly when I was younger and for a long time, I shied away from people. But I want to overcome my past so for now, I prefer the freedom of the club.”

Leo nodded, familiar with the feeling. “Being a doctor, I’m sure your days are quite full.”

A smile flashed across Spence’s face. “If I opened my own practice they would be. Not that I don’t wish to use my skills to help the sick and injured, but at the moment, I have…other interests.” A light kindled in his eyes as he spoke, and Leo only then realized just how striking the young doctor was.

As completely unlike Alexi as Spence was, in so many ways—including the depth of his dark eyes and his brightly colored hair—still that light of keen intellect and interest was oh-so-familiar. It drew Leo and he found he could not look away from it. He wasn’t an inventor or researcher. He was much too simple a man for those pursuits, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the quality in others.

There was a softness about Spence that Alexi had lost years ago. An eagerness, backed by the wary distrust forced on him by his experiences. Leo’s protective instincts flared, sending a slithering spiral of something unidentifiable through Leo’s gut.

“But you didn’t accompany me to hear me prattle on about my own rather dull research.” Spence turned to him. “And here we are in any case. There are a number of vessels I’d love to have a look at. Shall we?”

“Um.” Leo found he had lost the thread of the conversation somewhere in the glint of Spence’s nearly violet eyes.

“Leo?”

The doctor took a step closer and before Leo was aware what he was doing, he had a hand on the other man’s arm, the other lifted, to what purpose, he had no idea. He froze, bewildered at the sudden urge to touch a near stranger.

“You’re quite pale, Leo. Are you all right?” Spence gripped Leo’s elbow and the touch snapped Leo out of his strange preoccupation.

“Yes!” Leo snatched his hand back, smoothed his palms over his lapels and took an unsteady step back. “Yes, of course.”

A pair of business men hurried past them, tossing them a dark look.

“Dizzy, I think,” Leo muttered, feeling hot embarrassment flush up into his face.

“Perhaps you’d better sit for a moment.” Spence led him to a stack of crates beside a warehouse, away from prying eyes and casual observation.

“I am sorry, Spence, I don’t know what came over me!” Leo was mortified. Not all of Alexi’s bantering had prepared him for that rush of emotion that had overtaken him.

Spence’s smile was kind. Soft. “Not at all, Leo. Though rather bold for broad daylight and a busy street. I think perhaps we should go back.”

“No!” Leo nearly choked to get the protest out, horrified at what he suspected the doctor might be thinking. “No,” he tried again more calmly. “You said there were things you wanted to see. I’ve spent countless hours wandering down here, waiting for Jacob to finish his work. Tell me what you’d like to look at, and I’ll show you around.”

For the next hour, the two men wandered the docks while Spence studied the more technologically endowed vessels moored there. Leo confessed his own ignorance on the subject, even as he silently admitted to himself nothing lashed to the old planks and pillars in the harbour came close to the spectacular vision Alexi had brought into being. Given the admiration Spence showed at the vessels he did see, Leo couldn’t help but imagine the look of wonder that would light him up at the sight of Alexi’s invention. Or the sudden and undeniable urge to see it flush the good doctor’s cheeks and imbed that sparkle in his eyes.

“Come with me,” he said, suddenly invigorated. “I want to show you something spectacular.”

He hurried Spence down a side street and past a long row of warehouses towards the largest at the end.

“Where are we going?”

“To see something that makes the rest of these look like children’s toys and row boats. You’ll see.”

“Wait!” Spence hauled him back just at the corner before the huge warehouse. “Slow down!” His laughter sent an unexpected thrill through Leo and stopped him in his tracks. “You don’t want to arrive wherever we’re going disheveled and flushed,” Spencer admonished.

They both glanced around their shabby surroundings and laughed. The sound echoed off the tall, blank walls, bouncing the easy mirth back at them, and Leo did flush.

Spence’s eyes glittered as he moved a step closer. “Your hair is all askew,” he said, his voice breathless with the haste and lusty humour. He raked his fingers through the hair over Leo’s temple, and that flash of intense light and energy hit Leo again, leaving him holding his breath.

“Thank you,” he managed at last, still mesmerized by the incredible color of Spence’s eyes and the light in them.

Spence smiled happily at him and gave him a jaunty bow. “At your service, of course.” He waved a hand down the street. “Lead on.”

When they reached the warehouse, true to form, Alexi’s twin behemoths, Eli and Adam, stood guard, blocking the door from Leo and Spence.

“Is he here?” Leo asked.

“He is, Master Stokes.”

“Well then can you let us in, please.”

“You I can, but there’s rules, see.” The big man who spoke leveled a dark look at Spence. “Not him.”

“He’s a good friend,” Leo protested, ready to plead Spence’s case, when the door behind the big man opened.

“What’s going on, Eli?” Alexi’s tight, annoyed voice drew all their attention, and Leo looked past the man to his friend.

“Jacob—“

Alexi’s eyes narrowed at sight of the doctor. “Leo,” he said, voice flat. “What’s going on?” He flicked a look up the wall of the warehouse to the high windows. “I saw you in the street.”

A weak wave of unease lapped at Leo. “Oh. Well.” He moved to one side and indicated his companion. “This is Doctor Spencer. You remember him from the Club?”

“Of course.” Alexi’s expression didn’t change, and Leo heard the uncomfortable shuffle of Spence’s feet on the cobbles behind him. “Why are you here?”

“He’s interested in the boats,” Leo said, uncertain, suddenly that this was the good idea it had seemed just a few moments ago. Unease radiated from Spence standing behind him. “I thought he would enjoy see your work.”

“Am I a public spectacle, then?” Alexi asked, voice short.

“What?” The sharpness caught Leo off guard. This was not a side of his friend he’d seen before.

“Leo, perhaps we should just go.”

“No, Spence, really. Jacob, what harm can it do to let him look at your boat?”

Alexi’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed. “Boat?” His gaze shifted from Leo to Spence and back again. “You told him it was a boat?”

“I—”

“It most certainly is not a boat.” Alexi snapped before Leo had a chance to explain he hadn’t told Spence what it was at all.

“Come here.” Alexi reached past Leo and grabbed Spence by the wrist, hauling him inside.

Leo glanced at Eli, still standing, cross-armed and stern, a look of deep disgust on his face when he looked at Leo. His eyes narrowed. “There’s rules,” he growled. “He breaks the rules, we break his legs, see?”

Blood drained to Leo’s toes. “You wouldn’t hurt him.” What kind of men did Alexi have working for him?

“Not unless he hurts Master Silsbury.” Again, his eyes narrowed, leaving only dark slits in his freckled, swarthy face. “Rules is rules, and Master Silsbury makes them, not you.”

Leo swallowed.

“See?” Eli said, fists clenched.

“Yes,” Leo rasped. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes. I see. Thank you.”

Eli nodded and moved to let him pass.

Gingerly, Leo slipped into the warehouse and the door snicked softly shut behind him. Alana and her companion looked up, their faces smoothed of any emotion, but something rather like suspicion in their eyes. He wasn’t sure what he had done to warrant it. They said nothing as he hurried through their work room to the catwalk beyond.

There, he found Alexi standing, arms crossed, a satisfied look on his face, every inch the Lord he was, as he watched Spence gawk in wonder at the ship below.

“Not a boat,” Alexi said, voice slightly vindictive as Leo joined them.

“I never said it was,” Leo muttered.

He looked down on the machine and watched as Alexi’s uncle gripped a rope, tied in a complicated harness under his thighs and around his waist and chest, and kicked off the side of the huge vessel with both bare feet. He swung a good twenty feet around the polished brass sides, feet skipping him along like a monkey, and came to rest near a hanging platform covered in what must be tools and equipment. It was hard to see from this distance. He selected something and danced his way back to where he had been working.

“It’s beautiful, Jacob.” Spence whispered. “I had no idea you were so far along.”

“You knew about this?” Leo asked, inexplicably affronted that someone else knew Alexi’s secrets, even though he had been the one to bring Spence here without so much as a thought to how Alexi might react.

Spence spared him only a very quick glance. “Not really. Just a few late-night conversations here and there.”

Alexi smiled at Leo, and it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “The Club can be a lonely place when everyone has gone home,” he pointed out.

He could have been thrusting a knife into Leo’s gut, judging by the very physical pang those words created.

Leo said nothing, but turned to watch the workers below, a maelstrom of confusion roiling through him. Beside him, Alexi and Spence talked about the machine, Alexi’s voice clipped and his answers short, even while Spence’s was full of admiration and excitement. The slight apparent in Alexi’s manner burned away Leo’s confusion and he turned to them.

“Is there a problem, Jacob?” he asked, fixing his old friend with a look that visibly tightened the lines around Alexi’s mouth.

“Of course not. It’s been a long night.” Alexi turned away from him to stare out over the vessel. “I’m tired.”

“And here we are invading your work space without invitation,” Spence said, finally reading the dire signals in the hard lines of Alexi’s posture. “Perhaps we should go.”

“Yes.” Leo sighed. “My apologies, Jacob.”

He turned to follow Spence out, but Alexi stopped him. “A word, Leo?”

When both men stopped, Alexi’s lip twisted slightly, though he quickly schooled his expression. “In private, if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Of course,” Spence answered for him. “I have much to do anyway.” He smiled at Leo. “It’s been a pleasure, Leo. We’ll do this again sometime.”

Once again, Leo was caught by the light in Spence’s gaze, and he was nodding before he thought better of it. “The pleasure has been mine, I look forward to it, Spence.”

Spence’s smile widened, and Leo got the distinct impression it wasn’t the impressive array of technology lighting his new friend’s gaze this time. The doctor was turning and hurrying back to the workroom.

Leo spun on Alexi. “What was that about? Do you know your man threatened harm to him? He’s done nothing. And your demeanor, Alexi. Shameful to treat a guest—“

“Whom I didn’t invite into my private space,” Alexi pointed out.

“Nevertheless—”

“Nevertheless.” Alexi shut the conversation down by turning his back and leaning on the handrail, staring down at his workers.

“Alexi, what’s wrong?”

***

Alexi pursed his lips tight. Most of his fury was directed at himself, for showing such pique, but a good portion was aimed at the good doctor, as well. He admitted he liked the fellow well enough, but to show such interest in his Leo…

Shaking himself, Alexi hauled his ire back under control. “Nothing is wrong, Leo. I told you. It’s been a long night.”

“You’ve had long nights before. I’ve never seen you show such little regard for propriety.” He tried a small grin, but it only pierced through Alexi’s fragile calm and he had to turn away before the anger spewed out again.

“Well,” Leo continued, “except towards me, but that’s another issue altogether.”

“Indeed.”

“Is there something wrong with your boat, then?” Leo asked.

Alexi glared. Perhaps it had been an attempt at levity. He didn’t find it amusing. “No,” he snapped. “Of course not. Don’t be absurd.”

Leo blinked at him owlish and pale, suddenly, as thought he’d been punched. “What then?”

“Nothing, Leo.”

He turned from the railing to face his friend, mind made up on a matter only a half hour before, he had almost determined to abandon. “Please stay away from the warehouse for the next while. I won’t be here, and I would hate for anything to happen. The Dodges take their work very seriously.”

Leo felt an unease stir in his gut. “Why won’t you be here?”

Alexi straightened, squaring his shoulders and dredging up a stiff smile. “A friend has asked me to accompany him on a journey.”

“A journey.” The open confusion on Leo’s face was painful to see. “A…friend?”

Alexi opened his mouth to respond, to explain about Caleb’s attempted theft and dire straights, and his obvious infatuation with a certain big game hunter and trophy collector, but then, from the workroom, Spence’s laughter rang out and a snarl of inexplicable anger tangled in Alexi’s response.

“A friend, yes. I’ll be accompanying him to Italy. On an airship.”

“Well.” Leo’s voice was clogged with something dark. “Obviously you cannot turn down such an invitation. An airship of all things.”

“Obviously.” Alexi glanced towards the door of the workroom. “And company to converse with, share ideas. Someone who understands the intricacies of what I do.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “Of course,” he said stiffly. “And I do hope he enjoys the intricacies of who you are.”

Too late, Alexi knew he’d pushed too far.

“Do make the most of your adventure, Jacob. Look me up when you get back.” He bowed slightly. “Good day.”

“Leo!”

There was no stopping his friend’s heavy-gated inflexible retreat. Leo didn’t even look back as he opened the door of the warehouse and guided Spence outside, a solicitous hand at his back.

Alexi watched the door close as he fingered the lace of his grubby shirtsleeves.

The intricacies of who you are.

Only Leo had ever truly understood that.

“Master Silsbury?” A gentle voice behind Alexi drew his attention from the pain in his chest that made it increasingly difficult to breathe.

“Yes, Alana?” He tempered the curtness in his voice and turned. “What is it?”

“Come and see what Dr. Spencer has coaxed the aether to do, Sir. It is truly remarkable.”

“Of course it is,” Alexi muttered, but he approached the workbench and Alana’s experiment, and in seconds, his ire was forgotten in the face of the sight that met his eyes.

In the space of three minutes, Dr. Peregrine Spencer had resolved years worth of work, invaded Alexi’s personal affairs, and imploded his well-ordered universe. And all with an innocent smile on his face.

Spence wandered downstairs, unable to stay in his rooms any longer. They smelled of Anthony and sex, neither of which he could bear at the moment. His legs felt like rubber from the force of the orgasms he’d had and from his emotional turmoil as well. Although dawn was barely beginning to peep over the horizon, the club’s breakfast room already had a tantalizing array of side dishes on hand.

Suddenly famished, Spence filled a plate and looked around for a table in a quiet corner. The other early birds in the room were dressed in evening wear and had probably not seen their beds as yet.  Except for one young man in a simple tweed jacket. Spence recognized him as Jacob Silsbury’s companion Leo, whom he’d only met once.  But he was a friendly face and one moreover that occupied the most quiet corner of the breakfast room.

Spence made his way over and cleared his throat when Leo didn’t look up immediately. The man gazed at him with guarded eyes and Spence smiled.

“Hello, Leo. Jacob introduced us last week in the library,” he offered.

Leo gestured toward the other chair. “Of course. Please do sit down, Dr. Spencer.”

“It’s Spence. No need for formality amongst friends.” Please be my friend, he thought with a rush of emotion. I need a friend this morning.

Leo eyed him keenly and for once Spence found the scrutiny of another man not uncomfortable. Ever since Eton, he’d disliked it when men stared at him. He could never divine their intent and that made him exceedingly wary.

“You look different today, Spence, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Leo’s eyes flickered and his face registered a fleeting expression of sympathy. “Has something happened to upset you?”

Spence poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. He sipped it slowly to buy himself time to decide whether or not to confide in Leo. He knew Leo was a good man. The very best of friends according to Jacob. And Spence needed a friend, a sympathetic ear and maybe even a little bit of a pep talk. Still, Spence barely knew Leo so even though he oddly felt the urge to spill all his secrets to him, he didn’t think it would be at all the thing without Leo’s express permission.

Spence set down his cup. “Yes. Er, no. Not upset exactly.”

Leo smiled, a wry crook of his lips. “Alexi tells me I am the best of listeners. I have two ears that are currently unoccupied.” He paused, then waved a hand at nothing in particular. “Alexi also tells me that I am remarkably non-judgmental. Well. With everyone but him, if you listen to his word on the matter.”

Leo’s words made Spence chuckle and instantly put him at ease. He ate a forkful of eggs and then set his fork down. He glanced over at Leo who placidly munched his bacon, apparently waiting patiently for Spence to either treat him as a confessional or plow into his breakfast and ignore his offer of a friendly ear.

“You’ve heard the rumors about me, have you not?” he said in a low voice. “About Eton?”

A frown appeared on Leo’s face. “Yes. Were they true?” Spence nodded slowly and anger darkened Leo’s eyes. “Unconscionable!” he huffed.

“Be that as it may, it left me with fears I need to overcome.” Spence took another fortifying sip of coffee. “I knew before it happened that I was…that I liked…that I…” He broke off, trying to find the right words to tell Leo that he preferred men. “I’m like the other men in this club,” he said finally.

Leo toyed with a finger of toast on his plate, but remained silent. Spence’s words didn’t seem to surprise him at all. He struggled on to give Leo some background to his story.

“I wanted to be with a man, but the attack left me with many fears. When I tried to approach men here, I would panic. If they approached me, I panicked even more. Finally, Beare took me aside and explained that what those men did to me at Eton was not a sexual act but an act of violence. He said I should realize the difference and it would make it easier for me once I understood the nature of what had happened to me,” Spence explained.

“Wise words,” Leo commented with a nod of his head. “So did it work?”

Spence felt his face flush. “Well, yes. I managed to drum up the courage to let one of the other members service me…o-orally.” He stumbled over the word and knew his face flamed, but Leo just tilted his head to one side and eyed him impassively.

For a long minute, Leo said nothing. His face remained blank, but the toast crumbled through his restless fingers. “Did you like it?” he asked at last, a slight blush curling over his cheeks as he uttered the same words Anthony had spoken the night before.

Spence nodded. “I did and it gave me the courage to approach Lord Kenmare last night. I’ve long admired him and when Jacob introduced us some weeks back, I’d thought I detected some signs of interest in his eyes.” Spence suddenly felt as if his collar was too tight. Confessing might be good for the soul and he might need the perspective Leo could bring to the situation, but it was still damned hard to get the words out!

Leo looked intrigued now. He leaned forward in his chair, blush deepening, but his gaze once more focused on Spence. “You approached Kenmare? That’s very brave of you! He’s a very sophisticated man, older and quite refined. How did your advances fare?”

Eyes on his forgotten breakfast plate, Spence whispered, “Very well. He spent the night in my rooms.” Spence glance up and caught a gleam of admiration in Leo’s eyes. “I’d never done the things he did to me, Leo. What happened to me at Eton was nothing like what Anthony did to me.” He shuddered, reliving the pleasure he’d experienced. “I can’t believe how good it was.”

“And now what?” Leo asked, curiously. “You’ve experienced a man’s lovemaking. He’s taught you all the things men do together?” When Spence nodded, Leo went on. “So how do you feel about that? What do you feel for Kenmare? What do you think will happen now?”

Spence froze. He had no idea what would happen now that Anthony had made love to him. He had no illusions that the earl would want a relationship with him, despite the fact that Spence was more than half in love with him. Men like Anthony Banning never ended up the partner of men like him. Besides, he could tell that Anthony had no emotional involvement in what they had shared and he knew the earl had a long standing relationship with the American courtesan, Shelley Jefferson. He wondered if Leo knew that too. He rather thought Leo was a bit too straight laced to approve of Anthony frequenting a courtesan.

To buy himself some time to think, he ate a few more bites of his breakfast. With Leo’s keen eyes upon him, he couldn’t choke down more than that though. He set down his fork and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Leo, I honestly do not know what to think,” he said finally. Sympathy flashed in the other man’s eyes and Spence sighed. “Anthony doesn’t love me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he came to me solely to scratch an itch and have a virgin…or near virgin,” he amended. “I imagine I constituted a challenge to him.”

“But what of your feelings, Spence?” Leo’s voice held a note of deep compassion.

“I could very easily love him, Leo. He’s everything I admire in a man.” Spence shook his head. “However, I am not so naïve that I don’t know he’s far too sophisticated for me. And quite far above my station as well being a peer of the Empire. So while I may harbor some tender feelings and stars in my eyes after last night, I truly have no illusions of a future or even another encounter with Anthony Banning.”

“That was not very well done of Kenmare, you know, to take you considering that he has no plans for anything further. You’re an honorable man.” Leo’s face puckered up with indignation, which Spence decided must be on his behalf. “Especially with your past. His actions do not speak well of him.”

“Perhaps not,” Spence grudgingly acknowledged. “But I invited him and I knew when I did that he had no feelings for me. That doesn’t speak well of me either. If he used me, I used him as well.”

Leo’s brows shot up in surprise. “And how do you to come to that conclusion?”

An ache began to build in Spence’s chest and he rather thought that his heart was a little broken. “I needed him. And I wanted him.” He stared down at his half eaten breakfast and his earlier appetite vanished. “Now that I’ve been with him and know how it can be between two men who are equals on the bedsheets, I imagine I can be with other men. Before…all I knew was what it was like to be held down and have every orifice in my body filled with the penises of men I did not wish to be with.”

“For God’s sake!” Leo gasped, horror blanching his face.

Spence gave Leo a half-smile. “I’m glad I can say it now. I couldn’t before, you know. But now I know how to make love and I want to do it again even if I can’t do it with Anthony.” He shrugged and wrapped his hands around his coffee cup. “I owe him. He could have been an arrogant lover but he wasn’t. He was really quite amazing. My calf love will fade, but I shall never forget what we shared last night.”

Leo sat back in his chair, myriad emotions chasing themselves across his expressive face. Finally, he said, “You and I need to do something to cheer ourselves up, Spence. Women go shopping. What do men do?”

“Drink? Play cards?” Spence made a face. “I don’t really know.”

“Well, I do. Go get your coat. We’re going down to the docks to see the airships and submersibles. Nothing like a morning spent admiring technology to make a man feel more like a man.”

Leo stood up and Spence did as well. For a moment, they stood staring at one another and it struck Spence that Leo was a very attractive man. He wondered about the nature of his relationship with Jacob who seemed very like a bee, happily flitting from flower to flower, sipping the nectar of each. They made a very odd pair to be sure, but Spence decided whatever they were to each other it was none of his business. He was just glad the pair of them were his friends.

My history of this club is rapidly approaching the present day and the current load of limp wristed, gin swigging, somnambulant burgesses. (Poll is getting concerned about my language and is advising I resort to minced oaths and euphemisms. You’ll have to bear with me – or Beare with me – until I can work out how to prevent the old girl reading this memoir, then I can get back to employing an appropriately manly idiom.)

Before I give you a little of the history of our current gentlemen (I write that word with gritted teeth) members I shall share with you some of the verse I produced when first I came to the club and to which I added as I met the shirt fitting catacombs and their nefarious acquaintances.

Lord Anthony Banning astounds
When he’s hawking or riding to hounds
But concerning his breeches
He oft overreaches
And continually strays out of bounds.

Young Spencer would honestly rather
Not get everyone in a lather
Men want to seduce him
Or at the least goose him
In search of a bit of How’s your father…

Stokes thinks if he’s gentle and kind
Alexi will surely unwind
A friendly alliance
May lead to compliance
Poor bloke – his hope’s all in his mind.

A devilish cad name of Starr
Seduced a young lad in a bar
He whipped off his trollies
In front of the mollies
Now that lad’s the Gay Hussar

Beware of that bounder called Leach
He employs manners poor and foul speech
Keep your money to hand
Hide your jewellery and
Keep your meat and two veg out of reach…

A sterling young steward called Beare
Will defend Aetherites far or near
He’s as fierce as a lion
The man they rely on
And never would bring up the rear!

Silas opened the doors to Byron’s library and gasped in pleasure. Most of the walls had shelving that went from the floor to the ceiling and every bit of space was filled with books.

Since Silas craved knowledge more than food, he was powerless to resist the temptation they presented. He walked inside the room, his breath hitching as he continued to gaze at the books. So much information. So many things for him to learn. The thought of being surrounded by all that made him a bit lightheaded with excitement. His fingers even trembled a bit as he reached up and lovingly caressed the leather spines.

It had been so long since he’d been able to so much as hold a book, let alone have the pleasure of being able to get lost in one. He’d once had a collection of his own, albeit much smaller. That still hadn’t meant he hadn’t treasured it. Then, during one of his family’s many financial difficulties, he’d been forced to sell every last book he’d owned.

It had been devastating at the time, and even as he thought back to it, he felt an ache in his chest. However, it was a sacrifice he would do again. For while, he could easily put up with hunger, in order to help his mother who had been sick and in desperate need of nourishment.

“I knew you would eventually find your way here,” Byron said as he walked into the room.

As always, just the sight of the other man set Silas’s body on fire. He quickly looked away, knowing he had no right to his feelings. Someday soon, Byron would no doubt marry some rich girl and breed a ton of children. He certainly wouldn’t even deign to give Silas a passing thought.

“It’s a very nice collection,” Silas replied as he deliberately shifted his gaze to the shelf in front of him. “Did it come with the dwelling? I certainly don’t remember you ever being this fond of literature before.”

“I liked it just fine, so long as you were reading it aloud to me.”

“Why? Is it too taxing for you to read for yourself?”

“No, I just liked the sound of your voice. In fact, that is just one of the many things I missed about you.”

Silas’s chest soared with hope, before he gave an internal shake of his head, there wasn’t any way that Bryon could have meant that in a romantic way. He’d just probably yearned for something familiar from his childhood. Forcing a smile on his face, Silas turned and faced Bryon. “I’m surprised you even remember anything about me.”

Byron reached over and smoothed a wrinkle out of Silas’s shirt. The fabric felt thick and smooth against Silas’s skin. It, like the rest of his wardrobe, was borrowed from Byron. Since Silas had run with only the clothes on his back, he hadn’t had anything to change into after he’d bathed. So, it was either take Byron’s charity or run around in the nude.

As he ran a self-conscious hand over his trousers, Silas doubted he’d ever worn anything so fine in his life. Yet this was normal every day clothing for Byron. It was just one more reminder how different their lives were.

“I don’t think I could ever forget anything about you,” Byron replied in a serious voice.

“Come on, now. It’s been months.”

Byron reached out again, but this time it was so he could run the back of his knuckles over Silas’s cheek. Silas froze, desire coiling through his body. He couldn’t even breathe as he gazed up at his friend.

How was it that even after so little sleep, Byron could still be so handsome? He had his blond hair styled almost perfectly, save for one lock that stood up a bit at the back. Silas smiled as he recalled how that same bit of hair had always stood on end when they were small children. It would seem that maybe not all things had changed.

Byron’s blue eyes were the same, too. Maybe because he’d yet to see how cruel the world could be, or perhaps it was just that Byron was innocent. Whatever reason, he didn’t have a haunted or jaded expression that seemed to plague so many others.

Mouth dry, Silas noted that not everything had remained the same with Byron. Once gangly and short, Byron had filled out in all the right places. The outline of his muscles were clearly visible under his clothing and even though Silas knew it was wrong, he wanted to touch every inch of that body.

Damn! He needed to gather himself together before he embarrassed both of them. Nervously clearing his throat, Silas took a few steps back and then let out a weak chuckle.

“Are the rumors true?” he asked, cringing when his voice trembled.

Bryon cocked a brow. “I suppose that would depend on what rumor you are referring to.”

“That you inherited this home from your uncle?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Always needing to find the logic in situations, Silas pressed on, “Why would he do that? He left for America before you were even born.”

A bitter smile crept over Byron’s face. “I suspect it was for the same reason he also left me his half of the family business. He hated my father and knew that it would be a perfect way to get revenge on him.”

As much as it pained Silas to admit it, there was a ring of truth to those words. Bryon’s father could only be described as a rot bastard and he’d done nothing but make his son’s life miserable. While Silas may have grown up poor, hungry and cold, he fully realized that he’d really been the lucky one.

“You father must have been furious.”

Silas turned and walked over to another wall of books. He fingered some spines, really not bothering to read any of the titles. He waited for Byron to come up with one of his usual witty remarks. Then they could both laugh and things would be back to normal.

How badly did Silas want that, too. He would give anything to go back to the time where his parents were safe. Back to when he…. No, he couldn’t allow himself to even wish for such fanciful desires. What was done was done and nothing could change them.

He brought his hand up to his chest. Almost as if he could feel the thing that now lurked inside him. He could sense it give off a silent growl of disapproval as it surged forward. Silas took a few deep breaths as he willed himself to fight it.

So far he’d been successful in keeping it at bay. While he’d never met it face-to-face so to speak, Silas knew it would be dangerous should it ever get loose. The prospect terrified him more than anything, especially since he felt certain when it happened he would lose his humanity.

He grimly realized it would only be a matter of time before the evil thing won out. Ever since Silas had been infected, he’d felt it growing stronger. He feared that one day soon he would wake up to find the darkness ruling his body and soul. Then there would be no hope left for him or his parents.

He was so lost in his turmoil that he hadn’t realized that Byron was approaching until the other man came up from behind and put his hands on Silas’s shoulders.

“Don’t try to dodge the issues with me. We’ve known each other far too long for those kinds of games. You have to tell me what happed the night you were attacked,” Byron chided.

The heat from Byron’s body called to Silas and it was all he could do not to lean back and get lost in it. But, Silas realized that he couldn’t hide from his problems. At least, not all of them.

“Do you know the motive behind your parents’ kidnapping?” Bryon pressed.

Because I thought I was so brilliant that I didn’t have to follow the rules anymore. I let myself think that I could play God and create things that have no business even being in Hell let alone on the city streets. Now, not only has my own invention turned on me, but I have probably inadvertently caused the deaths of my own parents.

Admitting all that would only put Byron at risk, so Silas knew that he would have to go with some half-truths.

“There could be a few reasons. My father was pretty close to finishing a new design.”

Guilt sliced through Silas. In the past, he’d never hidden anything from Byron.

No, that wasn’t entirely true, for Silas never shared that he only felt an attraction to men, or more specifically to Byron. Silas knew that it would be better if he never spoke that secret aloud, as well. The only thing he had left was his friendship with Byron. As such, Silas refused to do anything to risk it.

Silas spun around and instantly realized what a huge mistake he’d made when he found their faces mere inches apart. Just the sight of Byron’s blue eyes and full lips was enough to make Silas hard and aching for relief. Silas breathed in deep, savoring the spicy, manly scent that came from Byron. A groan filled the air and terror went through Silas as he realized it’d come from him.

Well, fuck. That wasn’t good.

He expected Byron to step away or walk away in disgust. Instead he did something completely unexpected. He tucked his fingers under Silas’s chin and tilted his head up until their lips were so close that they could feel one another’s breath.

“I will find them for you. Even if I have to use every last one of my resources,” Byron promised in a husky whisper.

Silas attempted to reply, but all that could come out was a sound that was dangerously close to a whimper. That must have been sufficient enough, for Byron smiled.

“Nothing is going to hurt you. I’ll protect you,” Byron said.

Even though his mind was a flurry of emotions, Silas couldn’t help but think, Maybe, but who will protect you from me?

Then all rational thought fled Silas as Byron dipped his head down and brought their lips together.

Anthony took his leave from Shelley under the guise of needing to speak with Jack and Nash. So while Shelley still stood with Emmett Montgomery, Anthony slipped from the room behind his former lover. Jack shot him a surprised look, brows raised. Nash just smiled, a smug movement of his lips that told Anthony he hadn’t fooled Shelley’s half-brother at all. Nash knew he was in a jealous rage.

“You are coming on this trip, aren’t you?” Jack asked unnecessarily.

“Of course he is.” Nash brushed aside Jack’s question with a flick of his wrist. “He is my brother’s lover. Of course, he’ll be coming to Venice with us.”

Jack’s face went smooth and undecipherable. “Emmett…”

“Has someone else to fuck,” Nash said, cutting Jack off. “Didn’t you see the way he included Colchester? He wants that innocent flesh.” Nash’s eyes gleamed with a lascivious light.

A grimace flashed across Jack’s face. “I don’t think Colchester is as innocent as he seems, but his inclusion on the passenger roster should make the trip entertaining at the very least.”

“My flights are always entertaining,” Nash declared with a wide grin. “And now, if you’ll excuse us, Anthony, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen my love. I’m sure you’ll understand if we’re in a hurry to retire.”

Anthony made some kind of polite noise and watched as his former lover practically carried Nash down the stairs of the club. Without Jack and Nash to distract him, his jealousy of Emmett bubbled to the surface and he smashed a fist into the wall. The delicate gaslight nearby shivered in its brass and glass wall sconce but it didn’t break. Anthony shook his hand, not really noticing the slight ache in his knuckles. He wished the sparring salon wasn’t closed for the evening.  He would have happily beat the stuffing out of one of the sparring bags or smashed his fists into the iron muscles of one of the Nubians who were the salon’s silent and non-combative sparring partners.

Instead of beating his fists on any more inanimate objects, Anthony’s fit of pique carried him downstairs and into the library of the club, bypassing the card and billiard rooms. Once there, he flung himself into a leather chair in a darkened corner near the fire, after ensuring that a passing waiter knew to bring him a bottle of Scotch. He glared at the flames, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. The Scotch and a cut crystal glass appeared at his elbow. He poured himself two fingers and tossed it back, letting the strong spirits burn through him.

Why now? Why the hell would Shelley’s amours bother him now? Was it because he’d been with Montgomery, that fucking handsome son of a…?

His thoughts trailed away as a movement in the opposite corner of the room caught his eye. The firelight caught ginger colored hair and glinted off the wire-rimmed frames of the glasses worn by Dr. Peregrine Spencer. Anthony’s overwrought senses slowed as arousal began to spike within him. He and the doctor had been introduced previously by an acquaintance, the Silsbury lad, and Anthony had thought the doctor quite handsome if a bit shy and retiring.

He’d heard rumors that while at Eton Spence had been raped by older boys and his parents had removed him from the venerated school. Anthony had no idea if the rumors were true, but he knew that Spence was very reserved despite the fact that the younger man seemed to find him attractive.

He wondered what it would be like to take a man who’d never been with another man or at least one who had never found pleasure with a man before. If Spence had been abused, he wouldn’t be an easy conquest nor would the bedsport be simple and relaxing. He’d have to go slowly and make sure the doctor was writhing with pleasure before he so much as put a tongue or other appendage on or in him. The challenge appealed to his lacerated senses.

For a moment, Anthony frowned, his mind occupied with the fact that his feelings were well and truly bruised by Shelley letting Emmett fuck him. He wondered if he was overly sensitive because of Jack’s return. After Jack, Anthony hadn’t allowed any man but Shelley to get close to him. Now, Shelley was seeing Emmett, a man Anthony had always admired.

He wished he could say he’d been betrayed but he knew that would be a lie. Shelley didn’t belong to him. However, his emotions were in turmoil and he definitely had had his feelings more than a little bruised by the thought of Emmett touching Shelley’s elegant flesh. The why of it all escaped him. He had no idea why Shelley’s profession suddenly bothered him, but the dynamics of their relationship seemed to have subtly shifted. The hell of it was the shift seemed to have occurred only on Anthony’s side. He thought of the smooth scrape of the straight razor over his throat and the reflection of Shelley’s beautiful eyes in the mirror, his gaze holding Anthony’s just as surely as he’d held Anthony’s life in his graceful hands. He trusted Shelley more than any other man on the earth but he could no more understand his feelings for the man than he could capture aether. But he did understand that he hated Emmett touching Shelley.

Anthony turned to the Scotch. Better that he erase all those visions in his head with some strong spirits. He didn’t have answers so he needed a distraction. He drank deeply then froze as a throat cleared just to his right. He turned his head and found Peregrine Spencer sitting in the chair beside him.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” the young man said, his deep blue eyes holding a warmth Anthony recognized even as he registered the hesitancy also in those blue depths.

“Not at all, Spence. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. We seem to keep missing each other.” Anthony pointed to the Scotch. “Would you care to join me? I’ll call for another glass.”

The young doctor shook his ginger colored head. “No, thank you. I don’t drink spirits.”

Anthony nodded. “A wise decision.” He briefly wondered how he might get the doctor alone so he could test his theory that the man wanted him, but then the doctor himself gave Anthony a clear opportunity for seduction.

“I have rooms h-here,” Spence said, stumbling over his words a bit. “Would you care to join me for a drink in private? I have an excellent port that Beare recommended.”

Crude appendage that it was, Anthony’s cock stirred more than a little at Spence’s words. He stood and smiled at the doctor. “I would enjoy that. Beare is known to have exceptional taste in wines.”

Spence stood and Anthony followed him up the stairs to a suite of rooms near the back of the building. Once he stepped inside, it was immediately apparent to Anthony that Spence used these rooms as a way to escape his family. Books and papers littered the desk and personal touches were evident throughout the room.

“Do you mind if I take my jacket off?” he asked. “It’s been a long day.”

“By all means, make yourself at home, my lord.” Spence’s face flushed a little as he moved toward the sideboard where a decanter of port awaited.

Anthony removed his jacket and carefully folded it over the back of a chair. He undid his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He noticed that Spence’s eyes followed his every movement. He stepped closer to the doctor, ostensibly to take the glass of port from him, but in actuality, he wanted to see Spence’s eyes, wanted to see if the man wanted him. His fingers deliberately brushed Spence’s as he took the wine glass. Instantly, the deep blue eyes that stared at him turned nearly violet with emotion and Anthony’s cock went rock hard.

Seeing a spike of panic on Spence’s face, Anthony turned away, sipping his port. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Spence gulping down port. Sympathy stabbed him. The poor man wanted him, but was afraid of something. Anthony decided it wouldn’t do to draw out the seduction. Spence was becoming more nervous as the minutes passed. Eventually, he’d be too rattled to succumb to Anthony’s advances.

“I heard rumors, you know, Spence,” he murmured as he wandered the room, looking at the books Spence had strewn about.

“R-rumors? About what?”

Anthony smiled soothingly. He could clearly see the apprehension on the doctor’s face. “That you were hurt at Eton.”

Spence’s eyes widened with alarm. Anthony circled the room, coming closer to the nervous young doctor. The nearer he got the more port Spence drank. By the time he stood in front of Spence, the glass was empty. Anthony set his own still full glass on a side table and stepped deliberately into Spence’s personal space.

“I won’t hurt you, Spence,” he murmured. “I only want to give you pleasure.”

Raising one hand, he brushed the back of it against Spence’s cheek and the doctor shuddered. Anthony stepped closer, his body so close to Spence’s he could feel the other man’s heat.

“Have you been with anyone since you were raped, Spence?”

Anthony said the words boldly, deliberately. He needed to keep Spence strung tight yet off balance. To his astonishment, Spence nodded his head.

“A m-man, here at the club. He…he…” Spence broke off and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “He took me in his mouth.”

A smile curled Anthony’s lips. “He sucked you off?” Spence nodded. “And how did you like that?” he asked curiously, his voice soft.

“I liked it a lot.” Spence’s eyes were wide open and filled with a mixture of horror, arousal and fascination.

One of Anthony’s hands carded the soft ginger waves of Spence’s hair. “Were you attracted to men before the unfortunate incident at school?”

“Y-yes.”

The yearning in that stuttered reply nearly unmanned Anthony. “Would you like me to show you how men make love, Spence?” A groan escaped the doctor and Anthony chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Spence held himself stiffly as Anthony removed his jacket and both their neckties. He pulled his shirttails from his pants then pulled Spence’s free. Slowly, he began to back Spence toward the bedroom. When Spence’s legs hit the side of the bed, he groaned loudly.

“M-my lord?”

Anthony pressed his body to Spence’s, feeling the tremors that shook the doctor’s frame. “My given name is Anthony. I give you leave to use it, Dr. Spencer.”

Bending his head, Anthony took Spence’s mouth. Carefully, he teased the doctor’s closed lips, his tongue licking the seam. The lips opened and Anthony delved within, tasting the sweet innocence of Peregrine Spencer. As the kiss deepened and Spence began kissing him back, Anthony worked at their clothes until they were both completely naked. He stopped briefly to remove Spence’s glasses and set them on the bedside table. Then, he tumbled Spence to the mattress and lay to his side, not wanting to overwhelm him.

They lay for long minutes kissing and caressing each other’s bodies. Anthony wanted Spence to want him as much as he wanted the innocent young man. So they played, stroking and licking yet not touching each other’s cocks. Anthony’s lay heavy against his belly, leaking a stream of pre-cum, his balls aching with the need to unload his seed.

“Are you ready, Spence?” Anthony murmured against Spence’s collarbone. “Are you ready for me to make love to you?”

The young doctor nodded, his silky hair flopping over his brow. “I’m ready,” he whispered, his voice shaky.

“Have you oil? Something slippery?”

Spence moved his hand toward a bedside drawer but couldn’t reach it. Carefully, Anthony leaned over and opened the drawer, pulling out a bottle of exotic herbal smelling oil. He uncapped the bottle and spilled the rich, thick liquid into his palm, heating it. He slicked his cock and hand then pressed Spence onto his back on the bed. Nudging the doctor’s pale thighs apart, he lay between them, pressing Spence’s knees higher. The instant the pale pink pucker of Spence’s anus came into view, Anthony sucked in a harsh breath.

“What’s wrong?” Spence whispered, eyes wide with apprehension.

“Nothing. It’s just that you’re beautiful.” Anthony cleared his throat. “I’m going to touch you there. Don’t tense up on me.”

Spencer nodded his acquiescence and Anthony circled Spencer’s pink hole. Involuntarily, the doctor tensed then Anthony bent and licked the puckered skin. Spence keened and relaxed. Anthony smiled. Things were going much easier than he’d expected.

In moments, Anthony had one long finger buried to the hilt inside Spence. Slowly, he eased the finger out then in again. It took very little time for Anthony to have Spencer writhing on the sheets with two of Anthony’s fingers deep inside him. Anthony crooked the digits, rubbing the spot that gave men the ultimate pleasure. Spence shuddered, his long slender cock leaking pre-cum with each pass of Anthony’s fingers.

When he couldn’t take the moans any longer, Anthony pulled his fingers free, reared up on his knees and pressed the head of his aching cock to Spence’s anus. To his amazement, Spence grabbed the backs of his thighs, tilting his ass up for Anthony. However, at the first hard press of his cock into Spence’s anus, the young man turned into a statue.

“Breathe out, Spence. Push out and breathe out,” he advised. He flexed his hips and the head of his cock pushed past that tight first ring of muscles. Incredible heat seared his cock head. “Again,” he demanded.

With a breathless grunt, Spence pushed out as Anthony pressed his cock deeper. With excruciating care, Anthony finally got his whole cock inside Spence. They lay still, bodies pressed together and Spence’s hard cock trapped between their bellies.

“You feel so wonderful,” Spence whispered. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

Anthony wanted to ram his cock into the tight, hot channel but he didn’t. Gently, he made love to Spence, giving the young man time to accustom himself to the feel of Anthony’s cock inside him. When Anthony began to move, the glide of his cock dragged the head across the place inside Spence that caused him to moan uncontrollably. Before long, Spence moved his hips in time to Anthony’s thrusts. It was then that Anthony began to fuck the young doctor.

Heat swirled inside Anthony. His focus became singleminded, pleasuring himself within the tight clutch of Spence’s near virgin ass. The doctor’s lithe frame quivered, visibly shivering with bliss with each of Anthony’s thrusts. Head thrown back, Spence arched into Anthony’s bigger, broader body, his face contorted in a mask of passion. The sight spurred Anthony on and his hips snapped. His balls slapped against the taut globes of Spence’s buttocks.

And then Spence’s fingers scrabbled for his cock, wrapping them around the reddened flesh. Quickly, he frigged himself as muscles strained in his neck and shoulders. Incoherent sounds of pleasure escaped his mouth. Anthony twisted his hips, his hands canting Spence hips to meet his thrusts. A flush crept over the younger man’s torso and his eyes went wide with shock and excruciating bliss.

Spence cried out Anthony’s name as his cock erupted, spilling creamy seed onto his chest and over his fingers. Instantly, Anthony’s cock was gripped by the tightening muscles of Spence’s anus as he came. Heat washed over Anthony as his balls drew up and his cock began to spew its seed deep into Spence’s dark passage. He took Spence’s mouth fiercely, sucking on his tongue roughly as he shoved his cock one last time into Spence’s innocent ass.

Collapsing onto the gasping young man, Anthony felt little tremors in his muscles as his orgasm crested and then receded. He realized that Spence was pressing kisses along his jaw and that the young man’s hands were caressing Anthony’s broad back. Guilt pinged but he shoved it aside. Spence wasn’t completely innocent, nor was he a child. He was a man who had wanted to be fucked. He had invited Anthony to his rooms. Anthony hadn’t had to do much seduction at all.

“I’ve never experienced so much pleasure,” Spence murmured against Anthony’s shoulder.

Anthony pulled his softening cock from Spence’s ass. The younger man gasped and shuddered. Anthony used a corner of the sheet to wipe himself and Spence.

“That is only one thing, one position,” Anthony said matter-of-factly. “There are other pleasures to be had between men.”

“Truly?” Spence’s violet eyes became luminous.

Anthony shoved aside his guilt and the voice of reason inside his head that told him he had no damn business being in Spence’s bed. “Would you like me to show you?”

Eagerly, the doctor nodded and fell into Anthony’s arms.

****

On his way out of the club, Anthony noted that Beare had not yet retired and stood hovering near the foyer. The stiffness of Beare’s expression could have been because it had been a long night. However, Anthony knew it was because of him. Beare hadn’t liked that he’d used the good doctor to get back at Shelley for fucking Emmett. Hell, Anthony didn’t like what he’d done. Guilt had assailed him the moment he’d put his cock in that innocent flesh.

Rubbing a hand over his face and then through his hair, Anthony moved toward Beare. The steward held out his overcoat. As he slipped his arms inside, he murmured, “Even the best of us make mistakes, Beare. I’m sorry.”

The steward smoothed the wool over Anthony’s shoulders. “I don’t believe you owe me an apology, my lord. You’ve not wronged me.”

Beare did not emphasize the last word but Anthony heard it nonetheless. He closed his eyes for a moment, pain raking him with hot talons. “My life is in chaos. I’ve no idea how to even begin to put it all straight.”

“You could begin at the beginning, but that would be trite, now wouldn’t it, my lord?”

Anthony opened his eyes and found Beare raising one brow.

“As Poll says, it makes no matter where you start as long as you start somewhere.”

“Poll is quite wise, but I’ve told you that before, haven’t I, Beare?” Anthony eyed the steward, wondering how angry he really was.

“She married me, my lord.”

Beare’s brief words made Anthony’s lips turn up slightly.  He turned toward the door which an attendant opened for him.

“So she did.” He pulled his coat more tightly around himself. “Have a good night, Beare.”

The steward inclined his head and Anthony stepped out into the fog shrouded dawn, knowing that even though he was headed home to his bed, sleep would probably elude him. He wished he could drug himself into a stupor like the opium eaters. Perhaps then the demons inside him would let him rest.

Caleb sat stiffly, doing his best to avoid any contact with Montgomery, who’d seen fit to sit down next to him on the sofa.  He recognized a number of the men, but seeing them all in a group was unexpected.  He also had no idea why Montgomery had dragged him in.  Accepting a commission hardly seemed reason enough.  He didn’t belong in the company of such powerful men.

“It doesn’t matter.” Caleb didn’t know the identity of the speaker, but he was certain he’d seen him at the DeHaviland ball. “We know who he must be. Atterby.”

Atterby?  Caleb leaned forward, the discussion drawing attention from his inner turmoil.  Between his uncle’s rapid descent into debt and then the suspicious circumstances surrounding his uncle’s death, he’d long believed Atterby was behind his currently straitened circumstances, but he had no way to prove it.

The conversation quickly moved on from Atterby and sedition, to a trip to Italy.  Imagine having the option to go to Italy, on a whim.  His uncle had had many such stories about the continent, but Caleb had never left England.

“Been a while since I’ve been to Italy.  And it has to be warmer than bloody damp London.”  Emmett gave an exaggerated shudder and Caleb glared at him.  As much as Caleb wanted to learn more about what these men knew about Atterby, he still didn’t know why he was here.  Could he slip out unnoticed?  Not when Montgomery sat close enough to warm him with the heat of his body.

Montgomery turned to him.  “You’ll come along, won’t you?”

All gazes turned to him, both questioning, expectant, and in Montgomery’s case, lascivious.  The cad likely didn’t have any other expression.  Caleb steeled himself against the temptation to cringe but he could only lean back so far before the sofa back halted his involuntary retreat.  He flinched upright as soon as Montgomery’s warm fingertips touched his nape.

“To… uh… Italy?”  On an airship?  Admitting his finances wouldn’t allow it would destroy his brother’s chances for marriage, but he didn’t have the funds to pay the butcher, never mind the expenses associated with traveling.  Which was humiliating all on its own.  But he’d dreamed of flying by airship.  He’d dreamed of visiting foreign lands.  He’d just never dreamed of doing either as a pauper.  Finding out more about Atterby would be an unexpected bonus.

“Of course.  I’d rather not postpone our work.”

“Oh, well, certainly.”  What else could he say?  He couldn’t afford to refuse Montgomery’s commission.  Caleb bit his lower lip, to keep in a shout of frustration.  “When would we leave?”

Montgomery turned his attention back to the group.  Nash, who’d been kidnapped, of all things, grimaced slightly.  “Best if we leave as soon as possible.  No more than two days.  That should be long enough to replenish supplies.”

Two days!

The men made a few more plans, but Caleb was too lightheaded to pay attention until they were all standing to leave.  Montgomery moved close to an attractive man who Caleb had deduced to be Nash’s brother, and placed a hand in the small of his back, edging rather too low for propriety’s sake.  The familiar gesture had Caleb frowning.

“I had a wonderful time this evening, as always.  Thank you.”  Montgomery’s voice was low, but Caleb heard every damning word.  Anger burned away the confusion and helplessness as he realized this was the very same man Montgomery had been with earlier.  And a courtesan, no less.  Caleb was getting on that airship, somehow.

Caleb slipped out of the room, as inconsequential as a ghost.

***

At the top of the stairs, he watched the men leave the club.  Time was already running out.

A couple of older men struggled drunkenly up the stairs, groping each other.  Caleb sniffed and moved out of their way.  Not difficult to see Montgomery acting the same way in twenty years.

“Did you see that cravat pin Silsbury was wearing?”  The portlier one put a hand to his throat in remembrance.

The skinnier man emitted a sound that could only be described as a cackle.  “Who does he think he is?  The Queen?  I heard he’s got a different one for each day and an extra for Sunday.”

“Makes you wonder why he lives here, doesn’t it?”

“Not at all.  Not when there’s easy access to… companionship.”  A resounding slap on the plump arse made both him and Caleb jump.

The couple stumbled down the hallway, but their risqué banter faded as a wild idea hit Caleb.

***

“My Lord, may I enquire what you are doing in here?”

The weight of Beare’s disapproving tone sent a chill through Caleb strong enough to take his breath and freeze him in place.

He flicked a glance at the doorway, but was unable to open his fingers, to drop the damning evidence in his hand.  Bad enough to be found in someone else’s rooms, but holding a cravat pin worth more than his yearly expenses was… damning at best.

“You are aware that these are not your rooms?”  Beare’s tone became more censorious.  “And that such an transgression is grounds for immediate expulsion from the club?”

Fear curdled in his belly.  Losing his haven and gaining a scandal at the same time was unthinkable.  His pulse rate sped up and a tremor shook his body.  He’d been lightheaded earlier, but nothing like this.  What had he been thinking?  As much as he’d like to blame this situation on alcohol, he couldn’t.  No matter.  Such an excuse wouldn’t mollify Beare.

“What’s going on?”  A sweet-faced young man peered around Beare’s shoulder, gaze darting from Beare to Caleb.  There was no doubt in Caleb’s mind that the newcomer had assessed the situation in seconds, but he managed to surprise Caleb with a sudden expression of sympathy.  For some reason, he didn’t look anything like the self-indulgent, ostentatious dandy he’d crossed paths with at the DeHaviland ball.

“I was wondering where’d you’d got to.  I don’t need that old thing anymore.  I found this one,” the young man said while patting a shiny pin with an enormous sapphire – twin to the ruby one Caleb held.  “Good evening, Beare.”

If Beare could be said to be perturbed, then he was now, although Caleb had to look the most confused.

“Master Silsbury, you know this man?  You… sent him here?  To fetch a cravat pin?”

“Oh yes, absolutely.”  The slender man darted around Beare and wrapped an arm around Caleb’s shoulders.

One of Beare’s brows lifted, giving voice to more derision and disbelief than a member of parliament could in an hour of oration, but he didn’t verbally dispute the claim that Caleb had every right to be where he was, holding a valuable jewel that wasn’t his.

“Very well.”  Beare turned on his heel and departed. The door to the suite didn’t slam behind him, but certainly gave the impression of being closed with more force than normal.

“Here now, sit down.  You’re white as a ghost and trembling.”  Silsbury gently plucked the cravat pin from Caleb’s fingers and led him to a chair.

“I’m sorry.”  Finally able to get his vocal cords to work now that the spectre of prison and scandal had lifted, Caleb took a good look at his saviour.  Choosing to hate Silsbury because he’d been one of the other recipients of Lord Bridgewater’s salacious groping was unreasonable.  Not only was it not his fault, but given Lord Bridewater’s tendencies, he’d have to hate half the men in London.

“I’m Alexander Silsbury.  Remember me?  You can call me Alexi.”

Caleb nodded.  “I’m Caleb.  Or Cal.  Oh.  I’m also Baron Colchester.  And I’m so sorry.”  The ice that had frozen in his veins a few moments earlier now seemed determined to exit as tears, and he clenched his fists, hoping to stave off any further humiliation.

“Now, now.  Let me ring for a pot of tea first.”

Alexi chatted aimlessly about his evening until a waiter arrived and poured.  Once they each had a cup of tea, Alexi focused his regard on Caleb.  “Better now?  Care to tell me about it?”

The delicate china cup in his hand shook as the fear and distress he thought he’d suppressed made a sudden return.  Carefully, he placed the cup back down, and the entire story spilled out.

“Ooh.  I’ve seen your clockwork animals.  You’ve got a great hand with fine motor works.  You have to make one for me.  In fact, I’ve got a big project I’m working on, and I could also use some help with it.”

Caleb frowned.  He been caught stealing from the man, and here he was offering a compliment along with legitimate commissions?

Alexi laughed at his expression, and Caleb couldn’t help but laugh along with him.  He picked up his now-cold tea and drank, but he needed something wet to soothe his throat after all his talking.

“Wait.  You said you met Nash?  Nash Sutherland?”

Caleb shrugged.  “They only called him Nash.”

Alexi stood, and paced.  “It must be him.  You have to go to Italy with them.  An airship with a sky pirate?  A chance to find out if Atterby killed your uncle?  It’s a once in a life time opportunity.  I’ll give you an advance on your commission.”

This couldn’t be happening.  Nothing good had happened to him since his uncle died.

Alexi turned and smiled.  “It will be fine.”

The excitement in Alexi’s voice and the compassion he’d displayed spurred Caleb to yet another impulsive decision. Was his title cursed or was he just more like his uncle than he’d known?  His behaviour had been nothing short of reckless since he’d become Baron Colchester.  “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Please.  Come with me.  I can say I need your help to work on Bridgewater’s project.  Please.  I need…” his voice faltered.  “I need a friendly face.”

Caleb drained the last of his tea, waiting for Alexi to say something.  As soon as he realized what his situation entailed, he’d closed himself off, hadn’t confided in anyone but his brother.  How long had it been since he’d had a true friend?  Somehow, he thought Alexi could fill that role.

“I’ll do it.  Leo’s going to kill me, but I’ll do it.”

“Leo?”  Caleb couldn’t interpret the expressions that flitted across Alexi’s face.

“He’s a friend.”  Caleb didn’t quite believe him, but he was in no position to judge.  There would be plenty of time on the trip to Italy to return the favour of a sympathetic listener.

Jack hated being wrong. He hated being ineffectual. He hated admitting he couldn’t do something. He hated admitting he needed help. And he knew Anthony was fully cognizant of his failings too.  It had gone against the grain for him to ask Anthony for help to find Nash. In part because of his failings and in part because he knew Anthony knew it irritated him to have to ask.

He’d studiously avoided Anthony for longer than he should have. Everything about how he’d treated his former lover had been wrong. He’d known it when he did it, but it didn’t stop him from being an arsehole in how he’d treated the man he’d once loved. He’d been young and impulsive and he hadn’t thought his actions through. He’d gotten older and realized he’d been wrong but by then, he’d fallen into a pattern of dealing with the situation by ignoring it and Anthony.

Ignoring the situation came easy to Jack because one of his other failings was that he had difficulty apologizing. So when it came to dealing with an older, enigmatic and suave Anthony Banning, Jack had made a mess of everything. He didn’t want Anthony to be angry with him. He didn’t want Anthony to hate him. And he certainly didn’t want Anthony to have the upper hand because he’d been able to do something Jack hadn’t…get information about Nash’s disappearance. Jack was already in a precarious position when it came to anything that involved Anthony and giving him the upper hand wouldn’t be wise. Not that Jack had ever been wise when it came to his former lover.

Anthony’s little surprise at the DeHaviland ball had been exactly the right move. Jack acknowledged that to himself even while hating that Anthony had known what to do when he’d been at a loss. He’d hated Anthony’s display and how it had made him feel. He’d been nearly out of control with rage. He’d jumped Anthony because not only had it enraged him to think of Nash with Anthony, but it had angered him to see Anthony’s blatant sexuality on display and to think that Anthony wanted Nash but not him. Which was completely illogical in any number of ways.

Even later, when he knew that Anthony had been with Nash’s brother Shelley and not Nash himself, irritation flickered beneath his skin like a burr beneath a saddle blanket. Shelley was a patently sexual creature, Jack could see that quite plainly. He had the kind of sexuality no one could ignore. He was very different from his brother, who was outgoing and fun and whose sexuality stemmed directly from his zest for life. Shelley’s sexuality was his life and he wanted Anthony in a way that Jack knew his former lover was not aware of.

The fact that Anthony was overly possessive and protective of Shelley wasn’t lost on Jack. Anthony probably loved the man, even if he didn’t realize it. Jack could see why Anthony would. He’d also seen Anthony’s jealousy in action. Lord Bridgewater had availed himself of the delectable Shelley’s services and Anthony hated that. Jack almost felt compelled to take Anthony’s side and not like Bridgewater, but he couldn’t. He knew for a fact that Nash and Emmett Montgomery were good friends and Nash didn’t have friends who weren’t worthy of the trust he placed in them.

And that was how Jack ended up pacing the width of the Gladstone room at the Lords of Aether Club while Anthony sat beside Shelley on a settee with Nash across from them in a wingback chair. When Emmett entered with the new Baron Colchester in tow, Beare closed the door and stood before it, his impassive face somehow managing to convey some sort of fierce emotion. Jack rather thought it was loyalty. He stood silently by as Bridgewater introduced the baron to the room’s occupants before turning to Nash.

“It’s good to see you, Nash. I was wondering if I’d have to come looking for you myself,” Bridgewater joked as he nudged Colchester onto a sofa and sat beside him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled at Nash. “I gather you are none the worse for your adventure in incarceration?”

Nash stood, and holding his arms out wide, he turned slowly. “As you see. Fit as a fiddle, in part due to the little vial you gave me which created a loud flash, bang and an opportunity to escape my captors.”

Genuine delight suffused Emmett’s face. “I’m glad it was helpful. I’d wondered how well it would work if employed in close quarters or a situation where time was of the essence.”

“I wasn’t in close quarters, but it worked a treat, I can tell you.” Nash returned to his seat and sipped his port. “I shall want more of these to store on my ship.”

Emmett nodded absently, his head half turned to observe the stiff features of Baron Colchester. Jack didn’t know much about the baron, other than his given name of Caleb Sutton and the fact that the man appeared to be of the same nature as rest of them. Jack hid a smile. He had difficulty believing the pokered up Caleb Sutton was a sodomite, but if he was a member of the club then he certainly preferred men over women, regardless of the puritanical cloak of propriety he wrapped around himself. Besides, if Emmett Montgomery wanted him, and Jack would bet his last farthing that Emmett did, then Caleb Sutton wouldn’t stay pure very long.

The earl dropped his long arm along the back of the sofa, his jacket brushing against the baron’s shoulders. Jack noted the imperceptible shudder that went through Caleb and hid a smile. He had always been good at discerning the emotions and motivations of others which is what made him so good at his job. At the moment, he could tell that Emmett had scented Caleb’s weakness and would no doubt exploit that weakness to his own benefit later.

Unfortunately, Jack also could discern that Anthony was well pleased at having the upper hand with him. At some point soon, he would have to have a private discussion with Anthony and air out their differences. It really wouldn’t do for them to be at odds when he still thought of Anthony as his best friend. And maybe, just maybe, he might be able to assist Anthony with the beautiful Shelley. Something was going on behind all their casual, comfortable smiles. Something a lot deeper than what they both showed the public. Jack just didn’t know what that deeper thing was yet. But he’d find out.

“So what do you know about your captors, Nash?” Anthony asked as he raised his wineglass to his lips.

“The red headed devil hates sodomites. The whispering man…” Nash shrugged. “I’ve no idea who he is. I was hoping to discover his identity but their decision to move me precipitated my escape. I couldn’t risk them finding my means of freeing myself thereby rendering me completely under their control.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack said. “We know who he must be. Atterby.”

Nash’s brows rose in surprise. “You don’t say! No wonder I was being held at the Prime Minister’s home. Atterby is closer to the PM than his own mistress. Is the Prime Minister in on this then?”

Anthony shook his head. “We don’t know.”

“But it all smells remarkably like a seditionist’s plot is hatching,” Emmett added.

“I don’t understand. If they are seditionists, why did they kidnap me? What the bloody blazes did they want with me?”  Nash replied with a frown.

A knock sounded on the door and Beare stepped to one side to open it. A servant in garishly ornate livery looked past Beare into the room then held out two missives to the steward. Beare took them and the servant left. He crossed the room and handed one embossed envelope to Nash and one to Shelley.

Jack strode over to Nash as his lover opened the envelope and read the card within. His brows rose in surprise as he peered over Nash’s shoulder at the words on the card.

“His Excellency the Finance Minister of Italy, Conte diViola, requests your presence in Venice? What’s the meaning of this?” Jack asked Nash.

Nash tossed the card on the table before him. He stared at Shelley who had handed his card to Anthony. The earl shrugged and tossed Shelley’s card onto the table as well.

“Shelley’s says the same,” Anthony said in a flat tone.

The courtesan flicked at the lace on his shirt cuffs, his demeanor slightly bored. “Our father has commanded our presence at the family pile in Venice. He has done so before, but perhaps not with this much formality and certainly never Nash and I simultaneously.” He glanced at his half-brother. “Do you agree that our sire probably has something important to impart to us?”

Nash laughed. “Either that or he wants something from us.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll prepare my ship to depart. You’re all welcome to accompany my brother and I on this little jaunt. It should be a rather interesting journey and while we’re traveling we can ponder the notion that seditionists have infiltrated our Empire. What do you say, gentlemen?”

Jack looked at the faces of the men around him and knew, without a doubt, that the next few days would be very interesting indeed regardless of the fact that they would be flying to Venice aboard a pirate’s airship.

My account now comes within the realms of living memory, at least that of the club’s tortoise, Gazunder, who has remained loyal to the Lords of Aether since he was barely out of his eggshell and who still sees fit to take a leaf from Lord Anthony’s hand and pee in Jack’s slippers. Gazunder was brought home from the Med by Midshipman Fotheringay-Fanshawe (known to everyone as Midshipman Easy and you can guess why) and is a great favourite of all the members. Alas, one day he was attacked by a bunch of marauding snails but had no clear recollection of the incident as “it all happened so fast”.

You’re digressing again, Beare, you silly sod, as my Poll would say.

Ah, sailors. A girl in every port and port in every girl. Or in the case of my gentlemen (if you can call such a package of catamite chasing scum “gentlemen”), a boy in every hold and a hold on every boy. We’ve had plenty of them in this club, men who manned the wooden walls of England. From Admirals of the Blue who preferred foremast jacks to Spice Island Jills, to captains who sailed under a letter of marquee and made their fortunes with little short of piracy. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures – you can see the coast of France from Dover and that’s as much of Jonny Crapaud as we want to see!

I can tell you a story from those days that’s never been committed to paper. It concerns an illustrious ancestor of mine, Prevarication Beare, who was steward to Captain Roderick Hampton, a man who served at several of Nelson’s less well known naval encounters but missed Trafalgar as he’d gone home for a refit on his foremast and a respray on his wooden leg. (He lost his limb when his dining table was shattered by a carronade off Gibraltar but, as he told old Prevarication, he saved his meat and two vegetables.)

They were sailing up to the Baltic, ice in the rigging and so blistering cold it was freezing the (cannon)balls off the brass monkey where they were stored. (My Poll taught me the origin of that saying – she’s so clever I call her Polly Math. She whacks me when I do.) They’d heaved to, or whatever they do when they park up their boat for the night, and had sent a cutter ashore to “liberate” some provisions when they spotted a French Corvette – La Parra – sitting on the quay of a little port. Young Hampton was never one to let opportunity go a-begging, so they mustered up a cutting out expedition as quick as you can say “Lord Anthony’s latest cabin boy”.

All went ticketiboo – our jolly jacks got aboard, bundled the Froggies into the hold, cut the cable and set out to sea – when they discovered they had an important personage aboard, in the guise of one of Napoleon’s finest, Le Compte de Trinh-Duc. He was in his cabin and in flagrante delicto with a French lieutenant for whom women weren’t plat du jour! Cost old Nappy a pretty penny in gold to get the old sod back and my distinguished ancestor, as the bloke who discovered the Comte with his backside bare, copped a share of it.

In honour of his service, the Captain Roderick gave Prevarication a small house in a new model village he was creating and – in a moment of high emotion – he named the village after the partnership which had so baffled the frogs. It still raises a tear in my eye when I think of those cold Baltic patrols and the sweet sight of Beare Hampton.

Caleb tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair.  A waiter looked over but Caleb waved him away.  He’d already had far more to drink than was wise.  Jaw tense, he pulled out his pocket watch again.  Two and a half hours since Montgomery had gone upstairs to a private room.  After six drinks, three aborted attempts to join a card game and two failed conversations due to his distraction, he still found opportunity to check his watch a dozen times or more.

Two and half hours.  What was Montgomery doing up there?  Caleb wouldn’t even be able to recognize his companion; he’d only seen the back of a man in expensive evening wear.  Then he’d been furious with himself for even looking, and he’d immediately requested another drink.

He needed to return home.  Knowing Montgomery was upstairs somewhere engaging in debauchery destroyed the contentment the club provided.  Every minute he stayed – to no purpose – increased his agitation.  And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.  But no more.  Every time Beare passed by, Caleb imagined the steward’s stoic expression became more and more quizzical.

Ridiculous.  Caleb stood, with every intention of leaving, but three attractive men standing in the foyer distracted him.  One of them he recognized as the Earl of Kenmare.  The other two men, blatantly entwined in a sexual embrace, were members of the club, but he didn’t know their names. Clearly uncivilized, just like Montgomery.

The two men kissed, intent on devouring each other in full view of the club members, and as Caleb teetered in place, staring, his groin came to fresh life.  Anger accompanied the arousal.  Montgomery could be doing — probably was doing – the exact same thing upstairs.

He stumbled toward the trio, fists clenched, unsure what he was going to do or say, but Beare led them away before he reached them.  Alone in the foyer, deprived of his target, Caleb turned abruptly for the stairs.

He bounded up two flights, heading for the private rooms.  But he didn’t know which room Montgomery would be in and he came to an abrupt stop.  Trying to appear nonchalant, he sauntered along the hallway.  At each closed door he leaned in, listening as hard as he could.

Halfway down the hall, a loud moan seeped out around an improperly closed door, followed by the rhythmic squeak of a bed, leaving Caleb in no doubt as to what activity was taking place.  His anger burned brighter, and he pushed into the room.  For a moment, a pair of flexing, white, muscular buttocks mesmerized him.  His breath caught, the long limbs entwined together were beautiful and arousing… and infuriating.  Fully intending to wrench them apart and say something, he suddenly noticed there wasn’t a tanned limb in the bunch and both men were blond.

Shock burned off the alcoholic haze.  Somehow, the couple fucking didn’t hear his heart pounding, even though he could no longer hear the squeaking bedsprings over the thrum in his ears.  He crept from the room, closed the door behind him, and sagged against the wall, panting.

“Hello, Cal.”

Caleb stifled a shriek and leapt around.  Montgomery.

“I’d thought you’d be long gone.  But as you’re not, let’s go have a drink, discuss some business.  I find myself… invigorated.”

Invigorated.  The bastard.  He wasn’t even ashamed that his clothes were rumpled and his hair was mussed.  Stomach twisting, and words yet again failing him in this man’s presence, Caleb allowed himself to be led back down to the common rooms.

Montgomery signaled a waiter, and Caleb accepted the glass of dark red wine to match the one in Montgomery’s hand, but merely held on to it.  He couldn’t afford for his faculties to become any more impaired.  Dealing with Montgomery required all of his wits.

“So, Beare tells me you’ve a good hand with clockworks.  I’ve got a new project I’m working on, and I could use some help with the execution.”

A commission.  Montgomery was clearly well off.  Perhaps this was just what he needed to get his family on more solid footing.  Could he stand to work closely with this man, could he stand the lascivious attention?

Caleb cleared his throat.  “What exactly are you working on?”

Montgomery winked.  “All in good time.  But I trust that Beare wouldn’t steer me wrong, although he also suggested Silsbury as an alternative.”

Silsbury?  Silsbury didn’t need any commissions, Silsbury never had to wonder if he had enough to pay the baker or the fish monger.  “I’ll do it.”

Those white teeth bared in another smug, predatory grin, and Caleb shivered.

“If I may interrupt,” Beare said.  Wine sloshed in Caleb’s glass as he jumped at Beare’s unexpected appearance, but not a drop spilled.

“Of course, of course,” Montgomery said.

“Lord Bridgewater, you may be interested to know that a certain missing person has returned, and is receiving visitors in the Gladstone room.”

Twice in one night, Beare had managed to surprise Montgomery.  Caleb would have to get some pointers if this secret commission was at all lengthy.

“Thank you, Beare.  The Gladstone room, you say?  Come along, Caleb, I’ve got some people to introduce you to.”

“What?  Why?”

“They may have some interest in my little project.”

Which didn’t answer his question, not truly, but it gave him something else to think about besides the faint hint of sex that surrounded Montgomery, as it hadn’t before.

Minutes later, he entered the Gladstone room behind Montgomery.