Page 12 of A Devilish Element
Jem was saved the effort of articulating a response by Ludlow’s return. “Is that a cockstand I see before me?” The physician’s smile was utterly conceited and equally undeserved. “Did I not promise?” He took a bow, only for Linfield to fling a wine glass at him. It flew wide and smashed against the wall, sending the good doctor diving for cover.
“Evidently, you need a moment.” He scurried off into the depths of the suite he’d carved out for himself, probably to prod at a pickled eyeball or some other grotesque.
“That was a little overdramatic,” Jem remarked.
Linfield levelled his gaze at Jem. When it came to emotions, the viscount wore them like a child’s first artwork. Happy, sad, angry, bitter. There was no mask, no artifice. “Don’t you dare criticise. If you were less squeamish, then I wouldn’t be suffering the indignity of having leeches sucking my cock. I could have gone from thee to she, and it could all have been done and over with. As soon as there’s a seed planted, I needn’t be bothered with her ever again.”
It wasn’t squeamishness that had prompted Jem to make the decisions he had, rather a notion of fair play coupled with a desire to extract himself from Linfield’s clutches. To Linfield he remarked, “I like Lady Linfield.” Jane was a sweet girl. A little timid, yes, but oh so very desperate to please.
“Well, that makes one of us.”
She didn’t deserve the hand she’d been dealt. She and Linfield were hopelessly ill-suited. But, as much as she seemed determined to make a go of it, Linfield seemed equally determined to compound the matter. As for the wedding night, Jem knew exactly how that had gone, for Linfield had burst into his chambers white as a sheet and given him a blow-by-blow recounting of it, before passing into a total stupor.
One might, if they were not as intimately acquainted with the viscount as Jem, have ventured that a little less drink was the obvious solution. While a little abstinence wouldn’t have hurt, the source of the issue was far more problematic.
“So go be done with it now,” he advised, unable to take his gaze off his lordship’s now prominent erection.
He received a petulant sneer in return. “One can’t go charging through the house and throw one’s wife over the nearest piece of furniture. It’s not the done thing, you know. It must be arranged…negotiated.”
Stuff and nonsense!Jem turned away from the man. “I wouldn’t know,” he remarked. He also didn’t see why marriage had to preclude passion. “If the purpose of this… interlude, wasn’t to make use of,” he waved a hand directly over Linfield’s groin. “Then what was?”
“To establish that I’m still capable, of course.”
Unbelievable. “As if you ever required Bell’s pets to do that. You know perfectly well how to achieve a rise.”
“Yes. Yes,” Linfield repeated himself more softly. “You’re right, I do. The solution is right before me. But out of reach, resistant, recalcitrant. Would you have me beg, dear Jamie? I’ll prostrate myself if it pleases you.”
Brow troubled by a frown; Jem shook his head, leaving them staring hotly at one another again. Honestly, Linfield’s marriage had been a godsend. It’d given him a reason to extract himself from a situation that ought never to have even existed.
The problem… and it was a problem, was that Linfield… well… he was fun. And he had a charm, a way about him… He could be ridiculous, mercurial, oft times, mad as a box of frogs. Linfield reminded him of freedom, of pleasures that couldn’t be bought, like sunshine and dandelion clocks, and of secrets, the sort that you could taste, and that were sworn over with pricked thumbs, then guarded like precious gems.
He told himself he was here at Cedarton because he was employed to do a job. One, God willing, that would end soon. But really, he hadn’t been ready to let go of that precious last breath of adventure. He’d imagined that he’d lost Eliza, not that she’d truly ever been his. He’d seen no reason to truly bank on the possibility of it. He might be smitten, but she… she would not be. Not when she learned what sort of man he really was.
No woman in her right mind wanted a man who also happened to relish the affections of other men.
He shifted uncomfortably. What could he possibly offer?
He was not, thank the Lord, like Linfield, so cursed as to find the feminine form repulsive, quite the opposite, he… He felt desire the same as any red-blooded fellow. He liked bosoms and hips, and the clench of a woman’s cunt around his cock. He just also liked pricks and arses, and buggery.
Linfield still hadn’t bothered to cover up. In fact, seeing Jem’s gaze slide over his cock, he made a fist around it.
“This is the first rise it’s seen since… since we… I’ve missed you, Jem. Is it so wrong to want it, to want to feel something? Why should all our fun end?”
He was stroking himself now, drawing his palm from root to tip and back.
“It’s not wrong to want it,” Jem conceded.
Linfield reached out to him.
“Only to act on it. It’s not simply a matter of thee and me anymore. There are others to think of. Jane did not ask for this, and I won’t indulge in something that will inevitably hurt her. It isn’t fair.”
“It seems to me you care more for her feelings than mine or your own. Are we to sacrifice all joy? What is the point of life if not to enjoy it? Jamie, listen to me, please. I know you’re determined to be a saint, but be merciful, and keep your wits. Ask yourself truly, what difference will one more poke make in the grand scheme of things, when we’re both already condemned to hell’s furnaces?”
“Don’t pretend. You don’t mean it to be one last time.”
One moment of madness had never been enough and never would be. If it had, then they’d have been done with each other after the first time. There would always be a next last time. Always. Into Eternity. Dammit, this was his way out. He didn’t want to be Linfield’s pawn for the rest of his days. He ought never to have fallen into his clutches in the first place.
If he’d never met Eliza… But he had, and he couldn’t regret it. She’d turned his world upside down.
