Page 23 of Seduced By a Scoundrel

Lord Albert had been abroad for many years. He had not been part of London society as Jeremy had begun his rise to prominence with theton. If he knew what was good for him, Lord Albert was still on the Continent, but the man was most definitely the sort who did not know what was good for him.

If Jeremy’s days were occupied, then Derrek would have more than enough time to observe Maidstone Close’s manor house, or even question some of the local inhabitants as to whether they’d seen anyone from the family secretly returning.

“I have not sewn women’s clothing for years,” Jeremy chattered happily as the two of them made their way home through the early twilight several hours after introductions between Jeremy and Miss Jones had been made. “I would never presume to tackle any sort of design or even pattern-making for Clary’s creations, but I am more than capable of sewing hems or managing more complicated needlework.”

“Clary?” Derrek asked, one eyebrow arched, trying to hide his smile of amusement.

“Clarissa. Miss Jones,” Jeremy explained, too animated to catch Derrek’s teasing. “While you were off seeing to the last of our shopping and looking for various means to contact London, she not only gave me a tour of her shop and a history of her business, she set me to work finishing up a few odds and ends she has been struggling to find time for.”

“That sounds lovely,” Derrek said, grinning and shifting his grip on their basket of purchases.

In fact, during the time he’d left Jeremy at the seamstress’s shop, Derrek had gone to introduce himself to the man who owned a modest livery at the edge of town, asked about prices for borrowing horses, and inquired as to whether the man knew anything about Lord Linton or Lord Albert. He had not learned anything definitive, but he’d found the livery owner to be affable and agreeable to business.

“It was quite lovely,” Jeremy said, tilting his head slightly as if he were surprised. “After spending so many years building my business in London, I suppose I could have become snobbish about my work and my status among the ranks of England’s tailors. But Clary is immensely skilled, and already I feel as though I could learn much from her.”

Derrek smiled, the warm, expansive feeling that had invaded his chest since running away from London with Jeremy growing. The man had no idea how good and how open he was. London usually made people harder, crueler. So did success in business, especially when it was adjacent to theton. But Jeremy had as good a heart as anyone Derrek had known, and it made him…well, to be honest, it made him randy.

Then again, a great many things made him randy.

“So you do not mind walking into the village every day to be assistant to a country seamstress?” Derrek asked as the forest path let out into the clearing where the gamekeeper’s cottage sat.

“I do not think I will mind it at all,” Jeremy said, sounding baffled. “It is in no way what I would have imagined myself doing this spring, but I did not imagine that I would be the target of another man’s royal ambitions either.”

He shivered as they approached the door to the house. Derrek wanted to reach out to him and pull Jeremy into his arms to comfort him. He wanted to do a damn sight more than that. For the moment, he contented himself with unlocking the cottage door and sweeping Jeremy inside their cozy, safe, temporary home.

“Good Lord, the fires have gone out,” Jeremy said, rubbing his arms, which might have just been for show, then removing his coat and heading straight for the stove. “If I am to be in the village every day working with Clary, I must remember to do a better job of building the fires in the morning and keeping them banked throughout the day.”

“I will see to that,” Derrek said, putting the basket of supplies on the table then removing his coat.

Jeremy had just rested his coat over the back of one of the chairs and turned to the stove, but he pivoted to face Derrek again with a slightly stricken look. “You will not be in the village with me?”

Bless him, but those eyes and that subtly needy look Jeremy wore would be the death of him.

He laughed, though he found the whole thing touching rather than funny. “You are a grown man, Jeremy, as am I. You do not need me hanging from your coattails nor sitting in wait for you like a soldier all the time.”

“Oh. I suppose that is true,” Jeremy said, his face pinking again as he continued on to the stove. He crouched to open the hotbox so that he could add more fuel to the dwindled fire. “I do like having you nearby, though,” he added, almost whispering.

“And I like being near you, dove,” Derrek said, his smile beaming as he began to unpack the basket. “You bring color to an otherwise dreary life.”

“It hasn’t been that dreary, has it?” Jeremy asked over his shoulder as he tended to the fire. “You’re a policeman. You’ve seen and done so very much, I would imagine.”

“I have,” Derrek said. “But none of it is like seeing or doing you.” When Jeremy sucked in a breath and peeked subtly at him, Derrek grinned and teased him by adding, “I would imagine.”

Jeremy was silent for a few minutes after that, though the flush across his cheeks and neck hinted that his thoughts were still racing. He finished with the stove, then took over unpacking the things they’d purchased at market while Derrek moved to rebuild the fire in the fireplace.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I struck up an acquaintance with the owner of the village livery earlier,” Derrek resumed their conversation as he finished with the fire. He stood and walked over to where Jeremy was hard at work preparing some sort of evening repast. “It isn’t swift or easy to get messages into London, but if and when necessary, I should be able to borrow a horse to ride into Aylesbury, where there is a coaching inn that regularly sees mail coaches.”

“That is fortunate,” Jeremy said, stealing a series of quick, furtive looks at Derrek as he seasoned an iron pan so that he could fry slices of the ham hock they’d purchased earlier. “I do not suppose ordinary travel is anywhere near as fast as what we managed through the night on our way here.”

“Not at all,” Derrek said. “We were fortunate that Moreland was able to lend us fast horses.”

“Fortunate indeed,” Jeremy said, setting the pan on the stove and risking a few, quick touches to see if the stove was hot enough for cooking yet.

It looked as if it had a while to go, so Jeremy shifted to the high table beside the stove to arrange the bread and cheeses they’d purchased, along with the things they’d brought from The Chameleon Club.

“We are also fortunate to have a village with such accommodating inhabitants so nearby,” he chattered on, like a swallow on a rooftop, as Derrek walked slowly up behind him. “I confess that I did not know how I would feel about the country and I was anxious when we first arrived?—”

He wasn’t able to finish his rambling thoughts. Derrek stepped right up behind him, bracing his feet on either side of Jeremy’s, and wrapped his arms around Jeremy’s waist. He leaned in and breathed in a lungful of Jeremy’s scent from close to his neck. The man was ten times more delicious than any of the food he was making. It was all Derrek could do not to angle his growing erection forward so that Jeremy could feel its bulge against his pert backside.

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