Chapter Thirty-Six
Lord Kendrick, Duke of Alton
I trotted down the stairs of my London home and into chaos. Gavin pushed his way through the front door, shoving both Henry and Frank aside to gain entry. Breathing heavily, my old lover glanced up at my entrance and met my questioning gaze.
“What is the meaning of this?” I asked, perturbed by his rude behavior. After the last time we spoke, I assumed I would never see him again.
“I am sorry, Your Grace,” Frank said, red-faced from his efforts at trying to block Gavin from coming into the house.
“I need to speak to you.” Gavin straightened his jacket and raised his chin, a flush riding his cheeks. His blond hair was ruffled, his striking blue eyes locked with mine. The anger he’d exhibited faded, and a smile played over his mouth. He had a volatile temper that often faded as quickly as it flared. His unpredictability was what drew me to him in the first place.
“The carriage is ready to take you to the train depot,” Henry said, clearly insulted by Gavin’s behavior. It was Henry who had acted as a liaison during our brief affair. I had been looking for a model, and he’d recommended Gavin.
Men in the queer world had to be careful with whom they trusted, and although I had seen Gavin at countless social events, I never dared approach him with such a delicate subject.Of course, many of us recognized the subtle glances, but not everyone was ready to act on them.
I pulled out my pocket watch and checked the time. My train was scheduled to leave in an hour. I had a trip planned with two business associates to walk through a factory in the north to determine whether I wished to invest.
Lillian had to stay in London to plan an event with my mother, which further soured my mood. In the past, Colt would have gone with me on the trip. He had a knack for reading my mind and often helped me make sense of things. His absence had caused a void in my life.
“I have some time,” I said, turning on my heel and striding into my studio. Perhaps Gavin was the distraction I needed. We parted on bad terms, and although I had no desire to resume an affair with him, I always wanted to end things positively.
“You have fifteen minutes, Your Grace.” Henry dutifully followed, his hands behind his back. Since Colt’s departure, he had acted as my personal secretary. He was trying hard to fill some big shoes, and I appreciated his hard work. “Else, you will miss the train,” he reminded me.
“He can catch the next one. I have other plans for him,” Gavin said, reaching out and clasping my wrist. With a mischievous smile, he tried to tug me toward him. I dug my heels into the carpet, unwilling to be manipulated. Colt had been leery of Gavin and insisted I make the man sign a gentlemen’s agreement curtailing him from discussing our relationship. Although it wasn’t a legally binding contract, Colt had felt it was necessary, and I trusted Colt with my life.
“Give me a few minutes, Henry.” I twisted my arm, forcing Gavin to release his grip.
Undaunted, Gavin strode farther into the room, flashing a come-hither smile over his shoulder.
In the past, I would have done as Gavin suggested and taken a later train. That was in another lifetime. I no longer found him irresistible. “What are you doing here, Gavin?”
“This is an interesting piece.” Gavin ignored my question and moved to my work table. My latest marble sculpture—two men embracing on a desk with a woman looking on—was on display. It was a work in commemoration of my wedding night, but something wasn’t quite right about the faces, and I wasn’t sure what.
“So you did find some other bloke to play Lord Golden, and this is the mysterious Lady X. Do tell me her name. Any woman that proposes a ménage a trois is one I would like to meet.” He cocked his head and studied me through knowing eyes.
My heart stopped for a breath as a horrifying thought occurred. He’d witnessed the title page drifting into the garden, and he knew where it came from. Had he put two and two together? I rubbed a finger down my temple and forced myself to listen and not react. Dread settled into the pit of my stomach. I hoped I was just making too much out of the turn of the conversation. Gavin was rather dim-witted at times. “No, this sculpture is straight from my imagination,” I said.
He traced a finger down the female figure, his profile to me. If he was bent on blackmail, he showed no outward signs. “It is very nice, save for the woman, of course. She has no tits to speak of. Perhaps you could narrow her waist a bit more and give her some hips?”
“She is flawless the way she is.” I took exception to his criticism of Lillian, even if it was a depiction. She was perfect, a warm and giving woman without artifice. Our nights together were full of laughter and contentment. An hour out of her company was too long. But was it true love or simply the residual effects of lust?
“Hmm, beauty is in the beholder's eye, and all that ...” he waved his hand, a small ruby ring on his pinky finger flashing in the light. Sunshine broke through the clouds and touched his hair, giving him an ethereal glow. He was handsome to look at, but I had gotten a glimpse into his soul, and I didn’t like what I saw.
Colt had been right.
Again.
