Yet, it had taken two decades and a dismissal for Donovan to give permission for Geoffrey to use his first name.
What would it take for him to reach across the carriage and run his hands over the hard planes of Geoffrey’s chest, and broad shoulders, and strong arms, the way Donovan had long dreamed of doing?Five decades?Divine intervention?
The truth was, yearning was not enough.But making an explicit advance was not an overture one could walk back if it turned out to be unwanted.
It was not the sort of advance that should happen at all, and not only because they were both men.Such an unequal flirtation wouldn’t be any more acceptable between a duke and his chambermaid.Donovan’s desires were forbidden no matter which way he looked at them.
But he couldn’t tear his gaze away.Not for the next eight hours.Not for the next seven days.
For as long as Geoffrey was still in sight, Donovan could at least daydream.Pretend that his desires were possible.That his years of pining in secret might culminate in more than the occasional tentative innuendo.That for once in his life, he could indeed havefun.
For as long as he had Geoffrey.
Chapter5
Marrywell.When Donovan’s coach-and-four pulled to a stop in front of the inn hosting them for the week, his brother and sister-in-law were already exiting their carriage just before them.They hurried to greet Donovan’s coach before the tiger even had the door open.
“What ho!”cried the ever-jovial Bernard as Donovan emerged from the carriage.“Did you enjoy your journey?Were you bored senseless without Sorcha and me to entertain you?Was the—Oh!”
Donovan turned to see what had caught his brother’s eye.
It was Geoffrey, stepping down from the coach in all his sartorial glory.Six feet five inches and sixteen-and-a-half stone of solid muscle.Enormous feet clad in champagne-shined boots.Legs like tree trunks, encased in tight pantaloons.Trim hips beneath a sliver of glittering ruby-red waistcoat.Wide chest and impossible shoulders not just contained, but tailored into mouthwatering perfection.A strong jaw with the barest shadow.Chiseled cheekbones offset by meltingly warm brown eyes.Aggressively dark eyebrows barely visible beneath a fashionably shaggy mane of flyaway brown ringlets that begged to be touched.
At least, that was what Donovan saw.He imagined his brother was rather less discerning.
“I didn’t know you were bringing afriend,” Bernard exclaimed in raptures.“I didn’t even know youhadfriends!Introduce me at once.I am charmed, I’m sure.”
The duke and his valet exchanged a startled look at this comical misinterpretation of the scene at hand.
“He hasn’t seen me in years,” Geoffrey murmured.
And Bernard would not have paid much attention to his brother’s valet, a decade ago when he still lived at home.Fashions had changed, Geoffrey had changed.His hair was different now, and there were new laugh lines at the corners of his eyes.Donovan supposed it was no wonder that Bernard would fail to recognize him.
The moment seemed to shimmer and sparkle with opportunity for mischief and adventure.Two words that had never before defined any aspect of Donovan’s life or comportment.
But he had promised Geoffrey to take a true holiday this week, had he not?And as this comprised Donovan’s final days to enjoy his valet’s company, why not give Geoffrey some semblance of a holiday as well?
“Haven’t you met?”Donovan asked his brother with an expression he hoped implied innocent surprise.“Allow me to rectify this error at once.Bernard, my dear friend Mr.Geoffrey Vachon, whom I met during my time at Cambridge.”This was true enough, though not in the way Bernard would assume.“Geoffrey, my brother and sister-in-law, Lord Bernard and Lady Sorcha.”
Both Bernard and Sorcha beamed in obvious delight.
“The pleasure is surely mine,” rumbled Geoffrey’s low voice just behind Donovan’s shoulder.
The duke did not dare turn around and meet his valet’s eyes.He would either burst into childlike giggles if Geoffrey was half as amused at Donovan was… or turn cherry-red in mortification if his valet was less enthusiastic about the unexpected change in role.
“Have you a wife, Mr.Vachon?”Sorcha enquired.
“I do not,” Geoffrey replied evenly.
She clapped her hands together.“Then before we leave, you will both surely find love!”
Donovan and Geoffrey carefully refrained from looking at each other.
“Come along,” said Bernard, motioning them forward.“Let’s sign the guest registry and beg for adjoining rooms.”
Adjoining rooms.
A gentleman’s valet often slept in a small chamber attached to his employer’s dressing rooms.Although the actual connecting apartment intended for Donovan’s future duchess had remained empty ever since he assumed the title, Geoffrey had never been more than a murmur away, even before Donovan had inherited the dukedom.
