Page 51 of Vanquished By A Viscount
Barbara was not his primary concern as he continued down the hall, however. Charlie had been so involved in conversation that he had not seen whether Gray had preceded him upstairs or whether he was still downstairs, talking to the last of the guests. They had been parted for the entire day, and after the awkwardness that had risen up between them because of Bradford’s appearance, Charlie feared they were not on the best of terms. One way or another, they needed to talk.
He had nearly reached his room when he realized he was not alone in the hallway. When he turned to see who else was there, he was alarmed to find Bradford striding toward him. Pulse kicking up, he turned to the man and asked, “Can I help you?”
Bradford met his question with a sly grin. “I was hoping you might know which of these rooms belongs to Mr. Hawthorne.”
Whatever reluctant attraction Charlie had to the man was instantly dampened. He could not help but answer with, “Considering that this is his family home, they all belong to him.”
Bradford laughed, and damn him, the sound was like warm treacle. “Come now,” he said, moving to stand closer to Charliethan he should have. “I think we both understand the heart of my question.”
“Do we?” Charlie asked, wishing he could be colder with the man.
Bradford’s smile was intoxicating, and the way he swept Charlie’s form with a hungry look was as blatant as if he’d spoken an invitation. “I am renowned for being observant,” he said. “And I observed the way you look at Grayson, and at me.”
Charlie swallowed hard. “I do not know what you mean.”
“You do,” Bradford said. “I cannot blame you for your interest in Grayson. He is exquisite in so many ways and so open to his desires. I have never, ever been disappointed by him.”
Charlie’s mouth opened, but for the second time in one evening, he had no idea what to say.
“Perhaps we could go find him together,” Bradford suggested. “I know for a fact he would be open to the idea. Very open.”
Had he thought Bradford was attractive? Not at all! The man was the very devil.
“I cannot know what you mean,” Charlie said, his voice hoarse. But not with desire. At least, he told himself it was not with desire. Or curiosity. Not that either. He cleared his throat, grasped the handle of his bedroom door, and said a curt, “Good evening, sir,” before retreating into his room.
As soon as the door was shut behind him, he hissed out a breath and clamped a hand around the bulge in his trousers in an effort to calm his reaction. If that was the sort of life and love Gray was used to these days, then perhaps things were hopeless after all. He could never be that free with his affections. He could never be what Grayson truly wanted. Given the other rumors that were apparently swirling around Gray, perhaps he had been right all along to pack everything he felt for Gray aside and to keep it firmly in the past.
“Bollocks,” Charlie cursed, turning back toward his door. He did not want to give Grayson up again. He did not want to blunder through any of the mess he currently found himself in. But he would never find a solution to the frustrations that raged within him if he kept retreating every time he had to face something difficult.
He put his hand on the door handle, pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whether Bradford was still in the hallway, and when he was certain the aggravatingly exciting man was gone, he threw open his door, stepped into the empty hallway, and strode across to let himself into Grayson’s room.
Sixteen
Damn house parties and damn all the guests who attended them. Gray was in a truly foul mood as he stomped up the stairs, desperate to go to bed, hoping that he wouldn’t go to bed alone. After Howard’s captivating lecture and the spontaneous dance that had followed it, he’d been left to direct the footmen in tidying up the conservatory, to answer questions from the maids whom he’d caught wondering if they could eat the remaining tarts that the guests had not consumed, and to see off a few of their neighbors who looked as though they wanted to be invited to remain and become part of the house party.
“I’ve no idea why you would want to continue on for even one second more under the same roof as that devil,” he’d caught Lady Farleigh muttering to another of the neighbors as they were whisked out the front door. “He is as sordid as they come.”
“Good evening, Lady Farleigh,” Gray had said goodbye to her in the kindest and most heartfelt way, his smile as tight as could be. “May you have a safe ride home, and may your dreams be as pure as your soul.”
The old woman had scowled back at him, knowing exactly what he’d cursed her with.
From the front hall, Gray hurried up the stairs, loosening his neckcloth and undoing the top button of his jacket in anticipation of assuming the state he most wanted to be in when he joined Charlie in his room. He honestly could not say where the two of them stood with each other. It had been a day of fraught encounters and things left unsaid. But at that moment, he did not want to stand with Charlie at all. He wanted to be as horizontal as he could be, though he would not have said no to straddling the man and impaling himself over and over while on top and vertical.
Those thoughts were already beginning to send his blood throughout his body when he rounded the corner to the family wing and nearly ran headlong into Howard. Howard seemed as startled to encounter him as he was to see his formerfriend.
“Oh! What are you doing here?” Gray asked lamely. He immediately wanted to wince and berate himself for his clumsiness in the face of a man who was so…so everything.
Sure enough, Howard grinned at him as if he could see straight through Gray’s jumbled thoughts to the desires he could not hide, and see through his clothes to boot. “I had gone in search of you, to be perfectly honest,” he said. His smile grew warmer as he turned slightly back toward the hall and continued, “I thought perhaps we could?—”
“No!” Gray burst, then immediately regretted raising his voice to such a degree in a hallway as most people in the house were on their way to bed. “That is, no,” he said in an exaggerated whisper, going too far in the other direction.
Howard was clearly amused, which did nothing to ease Gray’s frantic nerves. “I do not believe I have ever known you to say that word before,” he teased.
Gray puffed out a desperate breath, his shoulders sagging. Howard was poking fun at him, but not in a cruel or unkind way. The man did not have a cruel bone in his body. That didnot mean he was not impish and naughty when he wanted to be, though.
“I cannot,” Gray said, trying to be serious in a way that would impress Howard, though why he always felt so compelled to impress the man was a mystery he deemed it best not to dive too deeply into. “I…I have far too many responsibilities toward the house party at present,” he made his excuse. Nerves then got the better of him, and instead of leaving it there, he stumbled on with, “I am far too tired tonight. It would be too awkward to engage in such activities in my family’s house. The guests might grow suspicious. And you know how servants talk.”
Howard was chuckling by the time Gray finished his avalanche of excuses. “And perhaps Lord Broxbourne would feel left out?” he suggested, one eyebrow raised and a sparkle in his eyes.
