Page 11 of Thrown

“Is something the matter?” Robbie asked, looking straight at Toby, like Toby was the matter.

“And this is my son, Robert, Jr., who we all call Robbie,” Mr. Hawthorne extended the introductions.

Robbie dragged his eyes away from Toby and stared at Duckie. Toby would have expected Robbie to fall all over someone like Duckie, but to his surprise, Robbie’s expression was confrontational. Almost as if he’d taken an instant dislike to the man.

That in itself was reason for Toby to dislike Robbie even more. Duckie was the very best of men.

And then Mr. Hawthorne said, “Mr. Duckworth works for Willoughby Entertainment Group. He asked if he could take a look at Hawthorne House and the estate grounds on behalf of his company.”

Suddenly, the air in the front hall seemed thinner and crisscrossed with electricity. Robbie’s frown of distaste seemed instantly justified, even if Toby still thought he was an arse and Duckie was amazing.

That didn’t stop Toby’s surprise from hitting, though.

“You’re with Willoughby Entertainment Group now?” he asked, feeling deeply unsettled.

“Since last year,” Duckie said with a smile. “They hired me as VP of Development.” He turned to the others and said, “I’m the one who suggested looking into Hawthorne House as an investment opportunity.”

Toby could practically feel the heat of rage boiling off Robbie. The fact that Robbie stood so near him, smelling like clay and affronted family honor, had Toby’s heart beating faster. He almost felt like a planet caught in the orbit of a particularly unstable sun.

“There is a lot of potential for development at Hawthorne House,” he said, glancing from Mr. Hawthorne to Duckie. “Besides turning the place into the next Alton Towers, that is.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Duckie said, his smile off somehow. He turned back to Mr. Hawthorne and went on with, “Any other uses you have for the property don’t concern me. I’m here to look at the space available, and for now, that’s it.”

“By all means,” Mr. Hawthorne said. “I can show you around. Early, how about that cuppa?”

“Shall I bring two?” Early asked, turning like he would head back to the office.

Toby didn’t hear the answer, and he certainly wasn’t asked if he’d like a cup of tea. As Duckie and Mr. Hawthorne shifted off to one side, Rebecca with them, Robbie grabbed Toby’s arm hard and yanked him in the other direction.

“Oy! Get your hands off me!” Toby protested, pulling his arm out of Robbie’s grip.

Robbie ignored him, shuffling him farther off to the side. “You have something to do with this, don’t you,” he said. “You brought the enemy inside our walls.”

Toby didn’t know whether to laugh or growl at the ridiculous assumption. “I had nothing at all to do with it,” he said. “Why would you say that?”

“You obviously know Duckworth,” Robbie said. “The way you look at him?—”

Toby burst into laughter before Robbie could finish his thought. “Look, mate, I’m flattered,” he said, fully intending to use what might just have been jealousy against the knob, “but I worked with Duckworth before. He was my mentor. That’s how I know him. I’m not trying to get into anyone’s pants. But if you want to give it a go….” He smirked and crossed his arms, like he thought Robbie was a filthy little cock whore.

Robbie made a dismissive sound and jerked back. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his face growing slowly redder. “I wouldn’t go anywhere near your pants, even if they were made of gold.”

Toby laughed again, a different sort of excitement pulsing through him. “I was talking about Duckie, not me, you randy poof,” he said, then deliberately looked Robbie up and down, like he was a piece of meat. “But hey, if you’re that starved for cock, I wouldn’t mind tossing you over that pottery wheel of yours and shoving it up your arse until you sneeze my jizz.”

Robbie’s eyes went wide and dark with offense and fury…and something much hotter. “Fucking prick,” he mumbled, then turned and marched off.

Toby watched him go with a deeply self-satisfied smile. He’d definitely won that round. And hey, if the prize for winning the war was that he actually got the chance to bend Robert Fucking Hawthorne, Jr. over the nearest barrel and fuck him raw, then he would keep fighting until victory was his.

“Mr. Tillman, are you coming with us on the tour?” Mr. Hawthorne called from the other side of the front hall as he and Duckie emerged from the office.

“Alright,” Toby called back, pushing himself into motion.

He was still floating on the high of getting the better of Robbie as they stepped out of the house and into what suddenly felt like a beautiful, spring day, despite a nip in the air and overcast skies. Pride kept Toby from paying more than cursory attention as Mr. Hawthorne explained the same bits of family history to Duckie that Robbie had explained to him earlier.

What really caught Toby’s attention was the long stretch of the estate that stood between some of the outbuildings at the bottom of a slope, near a rushing stream.

“This is the working part of the estate,” Mr. Hawthorne explained as they followed the path between several small, open buildings. “All of the various workshops that were once essential to operating an estate have been preserved and are now used for some of the more exotic classes we teach.”

In fact, Toby could smell the distinct, acrid tang of the old-fashioned forge even before they turned a corner to find a tall man with broad shoulders hard at work, pounding a piece of red-hot metal on an anvil. The area of the forge contained a mix of historic and modern implements.

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