Page 17 of The Cordial Bride

Ian caught up with her and nearly stumbled as they rounded a corner and Celia’s house came into view. The woman stood in front of it, but it was not the sight of her that grabbed him by the balls and squeezed the breath out of him. Calan was to the side and one step behind his aunt. He was dressed in a loose tunic and trousers in buttercup yellow. His lovely hair cascaded over his shoulders, save for a skinny braid at each temple. Dainty flowers that matched the color of his clothing were entwined within the strands. As Ian and Isabeau approached, the boy smiled shyly.

Ian positioned his heavy basket to hide his burgeoning erection and willed himself under control. Whatever occurred during this visit, he would endure with good cheer, no matter how tedious or irritating it was. His patience would be rewarded soon enough with this fetching boy in his bed and in his life forever. If the permanency of his plans for Calan should have been alarming after such a long time of bachelorhood, he was happy to discover that wasn’t the case. Getting married held an appeal for him now that he wouldn’t have expected. Because it’s with the right person. Such a simple explanation—and yet one that had never occurred to him before Calan had come into his life.

He let Isabeau take the lead. Stopping in front of Celia, she inclined her head briefly before holding out the leash. “Thank you for inviting us to your home. On behalf of the Charteris family, I present to you this gift.”

For a few tense moments, Celia didn’t respond. Then she also inclined her head. “Welcome to my home.” She gestured toward Calan. “Take it out back.”

Calan didn’t hesitate to do as he’d been told. The boy dared to flash a grin at Ian before leading the goat around to the back of the house. He smiled in return. Isabeau cleared her throat and shot him a look that broke the spell of watching Calan.

Stepping forward, Ian held out his basket. “Please accept these items as a show of my devotion to your nephew.”

Celia liberated the basket from his grasp, showing no indication that it was heavy or that the offerings were appreciated. Instead, she turned and took the few steps necessary to open her front door. She held it for them. “Please enter. I hope my meager hospitality honors you.” Those words were probably always said as part of the custom, because he doubted very much she actually meant any of it. Her tone implied as much, but there was no point in dwelling on that.

He and Isabeau entered the small house. It was clean and organized, not exactly cozy. Indeed, with Isabeau and Celia inside all but squaring off, there was a distinct chill in the air. That all evaporated when Calan came through from the kitchen. His beautiful face lit up the room. Ian figured he could stand anything so long as he could stare at the boy.

Celia shoved the basket at her nephew. “Calan, bring the kettle. We’ll get started now.”

The boy turned on his heel with his burden and went back the way he’d come while Celia led Ian and Isabeau over to a couch and two chairs by the fireplace. Warm as the weather was, there was no fire burning, leaving the spot a bit gloomy because it was far from the windows. The Shadow Valley woman indicated that he and his sister should take the chairs. Celia perched herself on the edge of the couch. A low table sat between them, laden with delicate sandwiches and pastries, as well as cups and saucers. It was obvious that this was their tableware reserved for special occasions.

When Calan returned, he hefted a large copper kettle by its handle. Ian started to rise to help him, but Celia’s stern gaze had him sitting again. As hard as it was to acquiesce, he understood that he had to play this out by the terms of his host. Once Calan was his, however, the boy would be pampered. Ian would make it his life’s work.

Calan placed the kettle on an iron trivet that swung out from the fireplace on a long arm that reached the end of the table. Then the boy sat next to his aunt and went about making tea, except it was all done with slow, stylized movements that highlighted the solemnity of the occasion. There was a grace to it all, no matter how tedious it proved to be for a man like Ian. He focused on Calan’s fine hands and the way his hair swayed as he moved. Not surprisingly, it all became fascinating simply by virtue of the fact that it was Calan doing it. How has this boy managed to get under my skin so quicky and into my…heart? No, that was too fanciful a thought. He shoved it aside and focused only on what was happening before him. When Calan held out the first cup of tea to him, Ian took it carefully and sipped.

He had no idea what the expected thing to say was, but he didn’t have to think about it. He spoke sincerely to Calan only. “Perfect.” The blush that bloomed on Calan’s fair cheeks told him he had hit his mark.

“I am honored to please you.” Calan lowered his eyes and peeked up at him from under his lashes in that slightly naughty way he had.

Everything in Ian tightened, his balls most of all, and his dick strained against its confines. It had never entirely softened, and now it made him desperate to find a secluded place with Calan. There was no chance of that. So, he gazed at his cup of tea as if it held the secrets of the world and waited patiently as Calan served first Isabeau, then Celia and finally himself. There was drinking and eating and chatter, mostly between the women. It was all stilted but also mercifully rushed. None of them wanted to be there any longer than necessary.

Finally, Celia put down her empty cup and spoke to Calan. “You may dally with your betrothed in the garden while Lady Isabeau and I clean up.”

There was a moment’s hesitation before Ian shot to his feet. “How kind of you, madam. Sister,” he added with a beseeching nod to Isabeau. He doubted she’d ever so much as rinsed a cup in her life. Certainly she hadn’t been raised to and had a veritable army of servants at Truehart Manor.

Being the lady that she was, Isabeau smiled serenely and acted as if she did dishes routinely. “Of course, I’m happy to be of assistance.”

Relieved, Ian held out his hand to Calan. When the boy clasped it, Ian tugged him out of the room with perhaps more haste than was polite. But whatever hope he’d had of getting hold of more of the boy, they were dashed once they were outside. Calan pulled free and put a few steps between them.

“I know what you want, my lord, but it shall have to wait until after we are married.”

If it had a mouth, his cock would have howled. He took a step closer. “Why is that? We’ve already shared…intimacies. I only want a kiss.” He made a playful grab for the boy.

Calan danced away and headed toward the far side of the yard where the goat stood tied to a post and munching on grass. “Those are the rules. No one would have cared if you’d fucked me when we were merely lovers, as long as we’d been discreet. Now that we are engaged, decorum must be maintained, and everyone is watching us, whether we know it or not.”

Ian rearranged himself, and he sauntered over to join the boy. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Calan shrugged. “You should have looked into it before asking for my hand in marriage. I could have told you, for example.” Folding his arms, the boy glared at him. Gone was the coyness.

“Ah.” Ian clasped his hands behind him. “You’re irked that I went to the council first. In my defense, I did sound you out about leaving Shadow Valley, and given the politics involved, I decided it was necessary to float the idea with the powers that be before asking you. If it makes you feel better, my sister is livid with me for similar reasons.”

Calan’s expression softened, and he dropped his arms. “I’m not angry, not really. It was just…a surprise, that’s all. My aunt isn’t exactly happy with me, either.”

Ian wanted to wrap the boy up in his arms to comfort him yet dared not. Touching Calan would be too hard a test of his self-control. “I trust she hasn’t been making life too difficult for you.”

By way of an answer, Calan merely shrugged. He gestured toward the goat. “This was a very nice wedding gift.”

Ian was willing to change the subject if that was what his betrothed wanted. Their wedding would happen within a couple of days’ time, at which point, Celia would lose her power over her nephew, and Ian could protect him. “Is it? I’m glad. Isabeau handled all of that.” He looked around the yard. He hadn’t seen any other farm animals. “What will your aunt do with it?”

Calan looked surprised. “Oh, it’s going to be the main meal at our wedding feast.”

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