A Gentleman’s Position(34)

“Because she does.”

“What did you tell her?”

“Everything.” Lord Richard’s eyes widened in shock. “We’re close. I trust her absolutely, and I would destroy anyone, anyone who thought of harming her.”

“Is that a warning? You cannot suppose I would take out any resentment on an innocent party. Good God.”

David shrugged. It was a disrespectful, liberating movement. He put his hands in his pockets for good measure. “As you have said, you have all the power. I must protect myself.”

“I have attempted to protect you.”

“But you did not. You did the opposite.”

“Yes, because I was attempting not to make a mull of things, and I am very aware of my failure there.” Humiliation stained Lord Richard’s voice. “I don’t know what to offer you except my regret. I have no idea what I should have done better, how this damned tangle could have been prevented. I’m sorry. I have never fallen in love outside my station before.”

David stopped dead. “I beg your pardon,” he choked out when he could command his voice, “but what did you say?”

“I can’t tell you how much I miss you,” Lord Richard said softly. “Everything is so damned unsatisfactory in your absence. I wanted you so much for so long and told myself so often that I could not have you, and when you had the courage to say what we both knew, I lost my head. I am well aware you may not wish to hear this now, and God knows it changes nothing. But you were a great deal braver than I, and at the least, I owe you the truth.”

David remembered to breathe. “But…”

“It changes nothing,” Lord Richard repeated. “God knows I am tempted to declare all for love and the world well lost, but I cannot abandon my responsibilities, my brother. I have a household full of staff who know my every movement; if I set up a lover, it would be notorious within days. And I don’t want that anyway. I want you there, with me, so much that I have been unable to think without you. But the only way you and I can be together is with you as my servant, and no matter how much I tell myself that could be right, that we could make it right, I cannot believe it to be true. God damn it.”

David set his jaw. “Why are you here, your lordship? What are you asking me?”

“I’m not sure I’m asking anything. I don’t know what there is to ask for. I had to see you, that’s all.” He pulled a flower head from a high stalk and rolled it in his fingers. “Ah, Cyprian. Deal with this for me.”

He’d said that so often in the last few years, and every time, David had. The words caught at his breath like claws. He looked up, mouth open, and saw an expression in Lord Richard’s eyes that made it all so much worse.

“I don’t know what to do, my lord. If I did, I’d have done it already.”

“Yes, I dare say you would,” Lord Richard said. “We cannot have each other while you work for me, we cannot see each other if you do not, we cannot be as we were, and I cannot stand to be without you. I don’t know what that leaves.”

David steeled himself. “It leaves nothing while you feel as you do about me working for you. And perhaps you’re right to feel that. You feared that you would ride roughshod over me, and you did.” You still are, he did not add. If Lord Richard would simply ask him to come back as his valet—

Stupid. Stupid.

“Yes,” Lord Richard said. “That is what happens, you see, when one person has all the power and the other none. I don’t know what I thought I could achieve by coming here, and perhaps I should have left all this unsaid, but…” He made a hopeless gesture. “My house feels so damned empty now.”

David wanted to say, I’m glad you came, but he wasn’t sure it was true. “It hasn’t made things worse, at least. I’m grateful you made the effort.”

“I don’t want your gratitude.”

“There is nothing else I can give you.”

Lord Richard took his arm, tugging him to a stop and turning him so they faced each other. “I am not asking for anything. I have hurt you already, sent you fleeing from me, and even if I had not, there is no future in this. That is quite clear.” He gave a half smile. “I wish there were. I thought I missed you when you were gone, but it feels so much worse now I see you here. You as yourself with the sun on your hair.” He reached out to brush a loose red strand back from David’s forehead and tucked it behind his ear with care. David felt his lungs constrict. “Good God, you’re lovely. Your hair.”

“You hate my hair,” David pointed out, feeling that little resentment catch and burn.