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Charlotte was only half listening. Her mind, her heart, was upstairs wherever Liam might be. Posy leaned closer, her fingers squeezing Charlotte’s hand where it rested between them on the cushion.
“I believe he’s staying in the blue room,” Posy whispered. “It is where the earl usually puts the latest Hawk to come to nest. Trust me on this. He’ll be in the bachelors’ wing. That’s where my William served Matthew.”
Charlotte wondered at this William person, but swiftly sent that curiosity from her mind. “I cannot simply leave,” Charlotte whispered back. One glance at Posy and she saw that the woman knew much about the goings-on at Hawksfell. “Can I?”
Posy shrugged, patting her hand before pulling away. “There is no standing on ceremony where family is concerned, Charlotte. They welcomed me with open arms, and that took some doing.”
Charlotte didn’t have time to puzzle through that cryptic statement. “Lady Hawksfell, do you mind if I, too, retire?”
The countess gave away nothing in her serene expression. “Not at all, Charlotte. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Charlotte bade good night to the others and climbed the sweeping staircase to her guest room. She couldn’t go to Liam. Not now. Most likely, not ever.
Tonight she would pray for his comfort. The Lord knew he would never accept it from her in person.
* * * *
Jackson headed for the blue room in the bachelors’ wing. Though he’d known he would be serving Lord Sheffield during his stay, he hadn’t expected to be called so early in the evening. Lord Sheffield was a country gentleman, however. Perhaps he kept more rigid adherence to country hours than the earl did.
He rapped on the door and pushed it open. “Lord Sheffield, it is I. Hartley.”
The answer was soft. Nearly inaudible. Jackson’s gaze searched the room, and he found the gentleman standing near the darkened window nearest his bed.
“Lord Sheffield?” he called again. “You rang for me.”
“Yes.” He turned to Jackson, his face lit by the low fire in the hearth. “I need your assistance.”
There was a roughness in the man’s voice. A confused cast to his features that pulled at Jackson.
“May I ask what’s troubling you, my lord?”
Lord Sheffield laughed without humor. “I’m a Hawk, Hartley. A bloody Hawk. I should have seen this coming.”
Jackson moved closer and busied himself with arranging items on the dressing table. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe you should be discussing this with me.”
“You serve the earl, Hartley. Do you not?”
“I do, my lord.”
“Did you know my, his, father?”
Jackson straightened. “I’m afraid not, my lord. I’ve only been at Hawksfell for six months.”
He nodded. “I have three brothers. Did you know that? I am also the son of the late earl.”
Jackson gaped at him before swiftly schooling his expression. “I take it you just learned of this.”
Lord Sheffield nodded. “I did. And now Charlotte, my mother’s ward, knows of it.”
He stood still, so Jackson began undressing him as he would Lord Hawksfell. His work helped to keep him focused on his own movements even as he acknowledged that the gentleman was built very much like the earl. Broad and strong. Starkly handsome with those dark Hawk eyes. His spiced scent reached him. Jackson felt his magnetism, and his body reacted by the time Lord Sheffield was clad in only his drawers. The thin fabric held his manhood, and Jackson didn’t need much imagination to guess that he was as generously endowed as the earl, as well.
Holding out his dressing gown, Jackson assisted him into the fine satin garment. Lord Sheffield’s shoulders were visibly tense, and Jackson couldn’t resist giving them a reassuring pat.
The man jerked a little and then turned his head to pin Jackson with his gaze. “I don’t want sympathy.”
“Forgive me, my lord.”
Lord Sheffield rubbed a hand over his face. “I am the one who should apologize, Hartley. I didn’t mean to snap.”
Jackson maintained his rigid stance, merely inclining his head. “If there isn’t anything else you need?”
“Don’t leave. Talk to me. I cannot bear to keep my own counsel on this. And I sure as hell can’t discuss this with Charlotte.”
Jackson hesitated and then nodded again. This Charlotte, whom he’d mentioned twice now, must be very important. She was surely beautiful. Jackson had taken note of that out on the drive.
“You have my word that I’ll keep your confidences, my lord.”
A smile split his visage, and the effect was startling. It was starkly different from the earl’s expression, and it made Jackson think Lord Sheffield might not be as dour as he’d first assumed.
Tying his own dressing gown, Lord Sheffield sat beside the fireplace. “Sit, Hartley.”
“I shouldn’t do any such thing.”
“I say you should.” He rested his elbows on his knees. “So please do.”
Jackson shrugged. This entire evening was so unusual he reasoned he should simply follow his charge’s orders and comply.
“As you say.” He sat, mirroring Lord Sheffield’s posture. “I am at your disposal.”
His eyes searched Jackson’s face for something. “Did you serve the other Hawks who have come here, Hartley?”
“No, my lord.”
“Please. Call me Liam.”
“I couldn’t.”
“You most certainly could since you will be privy to all of my most personal concerns.”
Jackson blinked. “Again I yield to you, my lord.” A pointed look from Lord Sheffield made him smile. “Liam,” he corrected.
The other man let out a loud breath. “I have brothers, Hartley. Three brothers, actually. I finally learned the identity of my bastard Hawk father.”
Jackson looked away, studying the low flames behind the grate. “The late earl. Astounding.”
“What is astounding is that my mother never told me. I don’t blame her. How ashamed she must be.”
Jackson looked back at Liam. “Never of you, I’m certain.”
He tilted his head to one side. “How can you be sure of that?”
“You have that Hawk nobility, Liam. It clings to you as much as it does to the earl.”
“You know much of the earl. I don’t believe you’ve served him in any capacity other than valet, however.”
Jackson’s cheeks heated. “I have not.”
Liam leaned back in his chair, stretching out his long, bare legs. “Yet you know of these other Hawks, Hartley. I can see it in your face.”
“There has been gossip, but I don’t give it credence.”
“You should. My brother, Matthew, and his wife, Posy, for that matter, have spoken fondly of someone named William. I can only believe he’s a part of their relationship.”
“I had indeed supposed as much,” Jackson admitted. “Mrs. Hughes does not allow gossip about the Hawks. She is very strict on that point.”
“Yes, she seems very protective. I felt her affection toward myself this morning, scant though our acquaintance is.”
Jackson smiled. “That sounds like Mrs. Hughes.”
Liam blinked at him now. “You are as pretty as she is.”
“Who? Not Mrs. Hughes.”
He shook his head. “Charlotte.” He groaned. “I shouldn’t speak to her the way I do, but she vexes me.”
“You want her.”
“I don’t.” His answer was swift but had no ring of truth. He let out a sigh. “I do. I shouldn’t, but I do.”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“She is my mother’s ward.”
“And?”
“And, what?”
“Does that put her out of your reach? A man like you?”
“What do you mean, because I’m a Hawk?” He came to his feet, looming over Jackson. “We take what we want, isn’t that right?”
Jackson stood and held out his hands. �
��That isn’t what I meant.”
Liam reached out to touch his face. “If I wanted you, I couldn’t just take you.”
Jackson felt a rush of heat in his belly. His cock hardened, and he held himself still. “You wouldn’t take me.”
“No.” Liam stepped closer still. “I wouldn’t take you. Not by force.”
Jackson shivered at his intensity. “If I wanted it, there would be no force.”
Chapter Four
Jackson’s own words seemed to shock him, but Liam smiled again. “Are you saying you want me, Hartley?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know you, Liam. On the surface, you are conflicted. That is clear. You want this Charlotte. You want me? I’m not so sure of that.”
Liam took the valet’s hand and placed it on his shaft. He hissed as he grew harder. He might have been aroused by Charlotte’s guileless eyes earlier this evening, but this man had sent sharp desire coursing through him. “Is that not sure?”
Jackson stared at him with his gorgeous green-gold eyes. Liam caught his scent, fresh and hot, and his mouth watered. “Just kiss me, Hartley.”
Jackson hesitated for a heart-stopping moment. “Call me Jackson.” Then he brought his full lips to Liam’s. Liam kissed him, tasting deeply as his tongue stroked his. Jackson moaned, rousing Liam to nearly painful arousal. His heart pounded, and his body flushed hot and cold.
“Yes.” He shifted, untying his dressing gown. “Touch me. I cannot.”
Jackson pulled back, his breath coming fast. “You’re huge, Liam.”
“I am.” He growled as Jackson stroked him. “I suppose I have the late earl to thank for that.”
Jackson barked out a short laugh. “Yes, you share your generous endowment with your brother.”
“Mmm, I cannot be jealous of your service to the earl.” Liam bucked against Jackson’s hold. “I know you haven’t done this with him.”
“No.” Jackson stroked him long and slow. “He has no need for my touch.”
“No, he has his countess.” And Michael Crowley, but Liam wouldn’t force the valet to admit his knowledge of the connection between the earl and his two lovers. “Damn, that feels so good.”
Jackson kissed him again, one hand at the back of Liam’s neck as his other continued to stroke him. Liam was close, he knew this, and for once he cared about another’s pleasure even in the heat of his own.
His fingers deft, he opened the front of Jackson’s trousers and shoved his drawers out of the way. The man’s cock was easily as long as his own, and just as thick. Jackson moaned, and Liam pulled and teased until Jackson was clearly as far-gone as himself.
Jackson pulled his mouth from Liam’s. “My God!”
Liam worked the buttons of Jackson’s shirt free and pressed his chest to his. They were only half naked, but Liam was about to spill his seed. Jackson was close, too, unless Liam missed his guess.
“Come, Jackson.” He licked his neck, biting on the corded muscle of his shoulder. “Come for me.”
Jackson shuddered as he began to climax. The sounds of his pleasure, the smell of their combined heat and sweat, sent Liam over the edge, as well. Clutching at each other, they moaned and sighed as they both came together.
Liam held him close, wrapping his arms around Jackson as he sucked in a breath. He’d come so hard, and just from the man’s touch. It had been thoughts of Charlotte that had awoken his beast. That was true. But Jackson’s care and concern, along with his beautiful face and body, had made Liam crave more.
“Liam.” Jackson’s voice was breathy. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say that was amazing.” He pulled back. “You have been with a man before?”
Jackson’s cheeks turned pink. This was almost humorous, as his chest was still pressed to Liam’s. “I have. Women, too.”
“Then you will help me.”
“Help you? With what?”
“I have to get over Charlotte, Jackson.” He kissed him and stepped back, tying his dressing gown once more. “She cannot be with me. She is infatuated, but that is surely her only attachment.”
“How do you know she doesn’t love you?”
“Why would she?” Liam settled down in his chair. “I’m not even very kind to her.”
Jackson clicked his tongue as he swiftly dressed himself. He was good at that, working with clothes. Liam supposed that served him well in his profession.
“I cannot believe you would be cruel, Liam.”
“You don’t know me, as you yourself said.”
Jackson’s eyes lit, and a smile curved one corner of his mouth as he sat across from him. “I feel I know you a bit better now.”
Liam smiled, feeling more like himself. “I do care for her. She’s beautiful and caring, but how could I push for something with her? I’m a damned Hawk and cursed to fuck anything when the urge arises.”
Jackson stared at him for a beat. “You were compelled this evening, then?”
Liam realized he hadn’t been. He’d been aroused, to be sure. There had been no urgent craving when his beast came to the forefront, however.
“I wasn’t, Jackson. I wanted you.”
“You didn’t take me.”
“True.” He studied his hands for a moment and then faced Jackson again. “I will, though. Want to take you, that is.”
“I don’t know if I should be flattered, given what you’ve just admitted.”
Liam set his mouth in a thin line. “This is unusual on a number of counts.”
Jackson didn’t seem to fully grasp just how strange it was for Liam to sit and talk to own of his lovers. Or nearly lovers. Yet his expression, while prettily handsome, was empathetic.
“I daresay you may tell me anything at the moment, Liam.” He stretched and threw him a beautiful smile. “I feel far too good to protest.”
“I believe my luck might be making its presence known, then.”
“Your luck?”
Liam nodded. “My mother claims I have the luck of the Irish, and in truth, my life had been blessed.”
“And now you are the son of an earl.”
“A rutting bastard of an earl, Jackson. That distinction isn’t lost on me.”
“Still, if you are as lucky as you say, perhaps your Charlotte is part of that.”
“Did you see her?”
Jackson’s cheeks turned pink again. “I did. She is remarkably beautiful.”
“An angel is what she is. One who doesn’t deserve my desires forced on her.”
Jackson leaned forward and put his hand on Liam’s knee. “You need to find out if your desire for her is part of your compulsion, I think.”
“How did you get so wise?”
He chuckled. “I was raised by a butler in a great house. He taught me much, but I was fortunate to share lessons with the family’s children.”
Liam arched a brow. “Never say your lessons involved sexual compulsions and curses.”
Jackson flashed that smile again. “Hardly. I did learn much about reading people, though.”
Trepidation grabbed at Liam. He wasn’t certain he wanted to know what Jackson saw when he looked at him. “Ah,” was all he’d say at the moment.
“I have to see to the earl momentarily, I imagine.” Jackson stood. “Please ring for me whenever you need to, Liam.”
Liam stood, cupping Jackson’s head in his hands. “I will.” He kissed him, tasting his freshness once again, and placed his brow on his. “Until the morning, then.”
Jackson blinked at him. “Until the morning.”
The valet left him alone, and Liam settled back in his chair. He rather liked the notion of having a companion, at least for the duration of his visit to Hawksfell.
“Lucky indeed.”
* * * *
Charlotte walked through the woods behind the manor, letting the growing warmth of the day soak into her. She hadn’t seen Liam in the breakfast room, but that wasn’t a great surprise. She knew him well, didn’t she? He would withd
raw and keep his own counsel. Surely he wouldn’t seek her out. He never had before.
She had longed to go to him last evening. Posy had suggested as much, which should have scandalized her. Knowing Liam was in the blue room, however? She could imagine him there so easily. While she had never been inside that room, she could well imagine that his guest room was as luxuriously outfitted as her own pretty rose-colored space. He would stretch out on the bed, clad in very little. His big body, strong and dusted with dark hair. His long legs. His powerful arms. Heat suffused her face from the image.
She’d listened to the housemaids at Sheffield and knew he preferred to sleep with nothing on. She’d forcibly ignored the knowing glances among those maids, preferring to think they knew of this from seeing to his laundry. She knew he was a sensual man. The very cast of his lips, the tilt of his brows above his dark Hawk eyes, sent naughty visions through even her inexperienced mind.
It would never come to pass, though. Not any of it. He thought of her as an annoyance at best, and the way he’d looked at her last evening when she’d foolishly stated the obvious? When she’d all but declared him and the earl and Matthew Hawk as brothers? Oh, she’d felt his anger like a spear through her heart. She had long since suspected she loved him. She’d cared for him for so long now. He felt no such regard for her. That was clear.
“It is no use,” she whispered.
“What’s that?” a blond man asked as he came into view from behind a copse of trees.
Her breath caught. It was the pretty man she’d noticed on the drive yesterday morning. The earl’s valet, she had since learned.
“Excuse me,” she rushed out. “I was taking a walk and didn’t see you there.”
He crossed his arms, one golden brow arched. “You are a guest here, Miss Crane. You are free to wander anywhere you wish.”
“I suppose.” She placed a hand on the base of her throat. “That doesn’t mean I should intrude on your excursion.”
“No excursion, precisely. My duties are important, but I’m fortunate to enjoy plenty of free time.”