The Heart of Summerlin (3/5)
Masterpost and Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue | Bonus material
It was a rare, quiet moment for Spencer. He’d allowed the girls a day off from their lessons, so they were outside in the fields somewhere. Spencer was sure they were dressed head to toe in their riding frocks and making a mad dash for the stables the moment the okay had left his lips.
None of the servants were bothering him, and Ryan, who visited more often than not, these days, had preoccupied himself with something or other, probably tucking himself into a nook somewhere with one of Spencer’s books that he’d borrowed from Summerlin’s library.
Spencer tried to make good use of the moment to get some much needed paperwork and filing attended to-offering to show Brendon more of the estate had quickly turned into spending virtually no time in his study anymore-but found he just couldn’t put his head into it. Sunlight was streaming in through the large, open windows of his study, and it was making him fidget with restlessness. He felt a bit like a teenager again, the urgent yearning brought on by springtime sprouting in his chest and giving insistent little tugs every fifteen minutes or so. Spencer sighed.
He stared down at the papers before them, realising that his quill was already pressed beside the ‘X’ of a document to approve removing a large portion of his land’s forest. He shoved it away, dropping the quill and putting his head into his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration. His eyes wandered back to the light streaming through his windows as soon as he opened them again, and Spencer finally gave in to the urge to move closer, climbing up onto the window seat and making a nest of the pillows on it.
The study’s windows had one of the best views in Summerlin, overlooking the vast fields that rolled into hills in the distance, a creek darting through them. The water sparkled in the sun, and the rays warmed Spencer’s face and shoulders.
He smiled when Crystal came into view, her skirts gathered much too high to be proper for a lady of her age and social standing as she ran toward the hills. Her hair, which had been carefully pleated by Greta that morning, was starting to come undone, blonde waves framing her smiling face. Jackie followed after her, her skirts actually tied around her waist, her hair completely free of ribbons or trinkets. They looked so much like his mother it hurt.
Then, to Spencer’s surprise, Brendon came into view, running after the two girls. Somewhere, he’d lost the jacket he’d been wearing that morning, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, his vest in utter disarray.
He started closing in on Jackie, and when she looked over her shoulder to find him bearing down on her, Spencer could almost hear her startled yelp through the window pane. Brendon grinned and scooped her up into his arms. She flailed in his grip, tripping him so that Brendon landed gracelessly on his back, Jackie a blonde mess of skirts and waving arms.
Crystal looked like she was going into hysterics from laughing too hard.
Spencer smiled, touching his forehead to the cool window. He was relieved that Brendon liked his sisters so much and that they had taken to him so quickly. He had been nervous about Brendon being overwhelmed by the girls or the twins not liking him for some reason or another. Instead, they seemed to get along wonderfully, acting more like siblings than even Spencer and his sisters did anymore.
The springtime longing pulled at his chest again as he watched Crystal help untangle Brendon and Jackie, still laughing her head off. Brendon was laughing too, swiping grass stains off of his knees and elbows and helping pick leaves and bits of grass out of Jackie’s dress and hair.
“Damn it,” Spencer muttered, closing his eyes. He wanted so badly to go join them in their game, chasing the girls through the field. Or just spending time with them, really.
Giving in too often was dangerous, though. Every time Brendon smiled at him, it became a little harder to remember why Spencer couldn’t just reach out and touch him. Brendon easily got excited, and when he talked, he did so with his whole body, often accidentally brushing against Spencer in the process.
So Spencer rationed those moments, giving himself time to compose himself between each one. He’d allowed himself a game of mechanical chess alone with Brendon the night before. Playing tag in the sun less than 24 hours later was definitely not advisable.
Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t watch them as he did his paperwork.
Spencer stood, disturbing his nest of pillows momentarily to retrieve some documents, ink, quill and a book to use as a hard surface to write on before returning to his seat at the window.
Needless to say, he spent more time watching his family play in the sunshine than working for the rest of the afternoon.
From everything he’d seen of Summerlin since he arrived, Brendon liked the pastures the best. He started walking there almost every day, enjoying the sun and the company of the horses. This morning, Spencer was with him, walking by his side and pointing out this thing and that as they passed through the grounds.
“The horse over there is my favourite,” Brendon said once they reached the pastures, pointing out a proud gray Arabian that seemed to always keep himself at a distance from the other horses. “He never comes over when I call, and yet he always manages to get me to bring him more apples.”
Spencer laughed and climbed up on the top of the fence, offering Brendon a hand to help him up. “You want me to call him over?”
“You can try,” Brendon said, grinning. “I’m telling you, that one’s-” He broke off as Spencer whistled, a low, melodic sound that instantly made the horse look up and break into a trot, making his way towards them.
“This is Silverspoon,” Spencer said once the gelding was close enough to touch. “He’s been mine since he was a colt. Ryan bred him for me as gift on my eighteenth birthday.” He reached out and scratched the horse between the ears, and Brendon watched in amazement as the horse, instead of tossing its head as it did with Brendon, pushed into the touch, urging Spencer to find all the good spots. “Go on, say hello.”
Brendon reached out tentatively, expecting Silverspoon to shy away. With Spencer scratching him, the horse stayed calm, however, and Brendon put a hand against the gleaming coat on the neck, petting with long movements the way his horses at home had always liked. “He’s beautiful.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Spencer replied, stroking Silverspoon gently down the centre of his face. “You should come with me to Ryan’s estate sometime. He breeds the most beautiful horses.”
The thought of going somewhere with Spencer, even if it was just to his best friend’s estate, made something tingle excitedly in Brendon’s stomach. After a month at his new home, he was feeling at ease with most things, but his and Spencer’s relationship remained virtually unchanged from what it had been when they were first married. They were closer now, to be sure, and spent a lot more time together, but Spencer kept him at a distance, and every time Brendon had tried to hint at a possibility for a more intimate relationship, Spencer had been quick to step back.
Still, Brendon was nothing if not persistent.
He reached into a pocket for a couple of carrots he’d taken with him and offered one to Spencer, making sure their fingers brushed in the exchange. Spencer’s breath caught a little in his throat, but the only open acknowledgement he got was a polite “thank you” before Spencer turned his full attention back on the horse.
Brendon sighed and handed him the second carrot.
Before Brendon came to Summerlin, Spencer had found late nights most enjoyable. They were the only time of the day when he was really alone-any other moment filled with running the estate, chasing after the girls to somehow get them to study and doing various odd tasks that just needed to get done. When he was younger, he’d used to be very much like Jackie and Crystal, always into something-with Ryan as his partner in crime, of course-and never still for more than a few minutes at a time. He’d broken Silverspoon himself at nineteen and had spent many days exploring the vast expanse that was Summerlin’s fields for months after.
But then his father had died unexpectedly three years later, and with the sudden weight of a title and responsibility of caring for his sisters and Summerlin, he hadn’t had a lot of time for himself these past couple of years. Nights were his quiet time, his few moments of reprieve before bed, when he could just sit and relish the fact that people weren’t calling his name constantly.
He didn’t much enjoy those quiet nights anymore.
Spencer set the book he’d been trying to read down in his lap, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A headache twinged behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut.
Focusing had become almost impossible lately. It was frustrating, particularly so because he knew the cause and still couldn’t bear to do anything about it.
He’d tried telling Brendon the truth, again and again, but with every day, it became ten times harder. Brendon was making a home at Summerlin, adjusting to his new position and taking pride in finding things he could do to help Spencer run the estate. Just the other day, Brendon had taken his hand as they were walking back from the lake, telling him how glad he was that his family’s money had been able to accomplish something more meaningful than just another ship and larger numbers in a book.
Spencer had squeezed his hand and smiled, feeling guilt eat at him all over again.
He opened his eyes again, gaze lighting on the door that separated his room from Brendon’s. In his mind, there was an instant image of him crowding Brendon up against that door, hands working themselves into Brendon’s hair, guiding Brendon’s jaw up to expose just that much more skin for him to kiss.
On a hitched breath, Spencer pressed the heel of his palm into his crotch. The mental image was a frequently returning one, so familiar that he could almost imagine the heat of Brendon’s skin against his hands, feel his breath against his cheek.
He sighed, reaching into his pyjama pocket and withdrawing his watch. The intricate pattern of the golden wire that caged it gleamed in the light of the candle beside his bed. His thumb swiped over it, slowly pressing into the flowing grooves until they left impressions on his skin.
Spencer flipped the lid open, watching the teeth of the cogs piece themselves together and then pull apart again, moving at various paces to inform him with smoothly ticking hands that it was one-thirty-two and fifteen, sixteen, seventeen seconds in the morning.
His palm pressed around the pocket watch, letting the two knobs on its edge dig into his skin before he snapped it shut again and placed it on his bedside table. Somehow, he needed to make a change. If he couldn’t bring himself to tell Brendon the truth, then maybe he could find other ways to make things up to him.
Spencer blew out the candle and shook his head. He’d spent enough time pining for one night.
After meeting Silverspoon the first time, Brendon made up a plan to win him over. Spencer had told him-a note of pride in his voice-that the horse was true to his breed and a bit of a stubborn hot head when he wanted to be, but Brendon was sure that some persistence and a couple of apples would win him over.
Seven apples-not counting those Annabelle and Misty had gotten off him-and endless hours of cooing later, Brendon had barely managed to get within ten feet of Silverspoon without him trotting away, head and tail held high.
He was heading away from the fields when he heard excited barking off in the distance. He’d never seen a dog loose on the property before, and the first thought that crossed his mind was that it might be wild or rabid and would go after the horses. He rushed back toward the sound as quickly as he could, only to find that most of the horses didn’t seem particularly troubled by the barking, grazing peacefully as the shape of a little white and brown dog ran in circles around them, barking happily and wagging his tail.
When he was only a few yards away from the fence, he saw Silverspoon approach the dog, lean down to sniff it and then start trotting around in circles, swaying his head back and forth and occasionally stopping to kick up some dirt. Something about his actions looked off, not quite agitated but still not normal at all. Brendon moved closer and then slowed to a stop, suddenly realising why the horse’s actions were so alarming to him. He’d never actually seen Silverspoon-proud, aloof Silverspoon-play before.
Brendon quickly withdrew an apple from the leather bag he’d begun carrying with him to hold the apples and his lunch everyday. He used a pocketknife to slice off a piece of the apple and extended it to the dog, thinking that if he could reel in the stray, then he could lure Silverspoon to him as well.
Both the horse and the dog stopped their playing briefly, acknowledging him with steady, questioning eyes.
“Here, boy,” Brendon tried hopefully, kneeling to get down closer to the little dog’s level. “You know you want some apple, puppy.”
The dog approached him cautiously, stretching his neck to tentatively sniff at the apple. For a brief moment, Brendon thought he’d take it, but he just sneezed before returning to Silverspoon, wagging his tail happily.
Brendon huffed, then got another idea, pulling his sandwich from the bag and extending it toward the dog. “Here, boy.”
The dog regarded him once again, but when his eyes landed on Brendon’s sandwich, he pounced, eagerly biting into it. He ate most of it in under a minute, and when there was nothing but crumbs left, he turned to Brendon, pressing his nose into Brendon’s hand and lapping between his fingers.
Brendon laughed and scratched behind his ears. “Sorry, puppy. I don’t have any more than that.”
The dog didn’t seem to care; he leaned into Brendon’s scratching fingers, then flipped onto his back, his tail thumping happily against the ground.
Brendon smiled, rubbing the dog’s stomach. He noticed Silverspoon taking a careful step closer and trained his attention on playing with the dog so he didn’t scare him away. He didn’t come closer than seven or eight feet, but the dog clearly enjoyed Brendon’s attentions, so Brendon kept his focus on that, helpless in front of possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
When he finally made it back to the house, Zack was there to greet him at the door. “The others are just starting to head toward the table, my lord,” he told Brendon, motioning for a servant to take his coat and hat. Then he frowned, looking past where Brendon was standing and broke into a smile. “Looks like you caught an extra shadow on your way home.”
Brendon looked over his shoulder and grinned when he saw the puppy. He knelt to scratch under the dog’s chin. It looked up at him with large brown eyes, and Brendon couldn’t keep himself from feeling a bit guilty for having to leave him. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside with me.”
The dog whined, and Brendon bit his lip.
“Oh!” Jackie exclaimed from somewhere behind him, clasping her hands. “Crystal, Brendon’s brought a puppy home!”
Instantly, Crystal rushed to the doorway. She leaned over Brendon’s shoulder, gasping happily. “He’s so cute! Brendon, where did you find it?”
The dog barked up at Crystal and darted behind Brendon to jump up, pressing his front paws against Crystal’s skirts. “He was playing with the horses in the fields,” Brendon told them. “He must have followed me home.”
Crystal scooped him up in her arms, cooing at him. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing in the whole world?”
“Yes, you are,” Jackie contributed, scratching behind his ears. “Oh, yes, you are.”
“Girls, really,” Spencer’s voice came, exasperated. “We’re supposed to be having dinner. What’s-”
“Spencer, Brendon brought home a puppy!”
Spencer appeared behind the girls with a rather bemused expression. The dog yipped at him, making him smile. “Looks like a Jack Russell.”
“Brendon found him in the fields with the horses.”
“Can we keep him?”
The girls looked at Spencer with wide, hopeful eyes, lips on the verge of trembling.
Spencer looked down at the dog thoughtfully, reaching out to pet him. “What do you think, Brendon?”
Brendon blinked up at him, surprised, and felt himself falter. Spencer was reaching out to scratch the puppy behind the ears, moving in close enough for Brendon to feel the heat coming from his body. “I didn’t mean to bring him home. He sort of just followed me.”
“Do you want him, though?” Spencer asked.
Brendon scratched the dog’s ear too, hand brushing against Spencer's and feeling suddenly, overwhelmingly happy. He smiled. “Yes.”
“Then let’s keep him.”
The girls squealed happily, hugging the dog between them. Spencer rolled his eyes and sent them off to freshen up again, telling them to ask one of the Alexes to set up a basket and some food by the fireplace in the upstairs sitting room.
“Thank you,” Brendon said, once they were out of sight. “For letting me keep him, I mean.”
He thought he could see Spencer’s cheeks pink slightly, which might just have been the evening chill that was coming in through the open door. He stepped out of the way, finally allowing Zack to shut it behind them.
“Maybe the puppy will be able to wear the girls out,” Spencer said, in a voice that was hopeful, but clearly said he wouldn’t place any bets on it. “They’ve been causing a ruckus all day long, even for Greta.” He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling tiredly. “Come on. Dinner is already on the table, and I’m sure you’re hungry after being out all day.”
Brendon pictured the girls running down the hallways with the puppy hot on their heels, Spencer opening the door to his study at regular intervals to fix them with a brotherly glare, and couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Spencer into the dining hall.
Breakfast was never a quiet affair at Summerlin, and today, Spencer thought, was one of those mornings where it was difficult to even get a word in.
The twins were prattling on about how excited they were to finally be going into town the next week. Spencer had known they’d been feeling restless lately (their increasingly frequent bickering was a testament to that) but he hadn’t thought that a shopping excursion would be literally all they would speak about until the trip actually happened.
“I can’t wait to go back to that little shop we discovered last time,” Crystal sighed happily. “I’ve never seen such beautiful hair trinkets as those.”
Jackie hummed her agreement. “Do you think that brass dragonfly with the moving wings is still there? I think I’m going to get it this time. The pink on it will look lovely with the dresses Spencer’s promised us.”
“Oh, yes! I can’t wait to go to Madame Simpson’s and put in our order. They’ll be absolutely glorious.”
“No more than an inch below those collarbones,” Spencer reminded them, though by the way they spoke right over him, he could tell that they were paying him no attention.
He sighed, exasperated. Brendon, who was sitting across from him, caught his eye, a slow smile growing on his face as he rolled his eyes affectionately at the girls.
God, that smile could probably stop London traffic.
Brendon bit his lip, seemingly hesitating about something, before leaning closer to Spencer across the table and raising his voice slightly to be heard over the girls.
“I was wondering,” he said, giving Spencer a hopeful smile, “if you would like to have a picnic with me this afternoon?”
The girls fell instantly silent, and Spencer felt his cheeks flush.
Jackie sighed dreamily. “A picnic would be wonderful on such a lovely day like this.”
Crystal clasped her hands together, smiling brightly. “Oh, Brendon, how romantic! Spencer, you just have to accept.”
“Of course he will. How could he not?” The girls looked at Spencer with bright, expectant eyes as Jackie asked, “Right, Spencer?”
Spencer set down his tea, trying his hardest to keep from turning an embarrassing shade of red. He smiled at Brendon and finally said, “It appears I have little choice in the matter.”
Brendon absolutely beamed at him.
Yes, Spencer decided, that smile could, without a doubt, stop London traffic.
“I must apologise,” Brendon said a little later as he led Spencer out into Summerlin’s fields, swinging a picnic basket between them. “I didn’t intend for you to be bullied into coming on this picnic with me, honestly.”
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t apologise. How could you have known they’d even hear you over their own conversation?”
Brendon laughed, bright and happy. “Even so, please know that my intention wasn’t to coerce you.”
“You didn’t, I assure you,” Spencer replied. He had originally planned to take care of some business that day, but even if that business had been urgent, Spencer couldn’t quite envision making a different choice. He happily allowed Brendon to lead him to the top of one of Summerlin’s hills and into the shade of a large tree before they stopped.
They set up the picnic in companionable silence, Spencer unfolding the blanket for them to sit on while Brendon unpacked their lunch. When everything was set out and ready, Brendon took a seat, smiling. “Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic since,” he paused, “since the royal picnic during the coronation festival.”
Spencer nodded. “Same here. But the girls always go on picnics in the summer, and I’m sure they’ll drag you along with them. In fact, I’m a little surprised they didn’t invite themselves to this one.”
Brendon laughed, reaching for a container of raspberries. “They are a bit pushy, aren’t they? In the best way possible, of course.”
“I’m not looking forward to searching for a new governess for them when Greta finally leaves us,” Spencer said. “She’s the only person I’ve met who can talk any sort of sense into them. They still run circles around everyone, but at least their elbows aren’t on the table. Usually.” Spencer sighed. “They’ve only got one more year before they’re going off to court. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them when that happens.”
Brendon shrugged, popping another berry into his mouth. “They’re good girls, Spencer. I think they’ll be fine. And when handsome young lords and ladies come calling, you’ll watch them disdainfully until they leave. The girls will then proceed to whine about you being over-protective, and you’ll tell them that it is not only your responsibility but also your right to glare at anyone within a mile radius of either of them.”
Spencer smiled. “It sounds like you know how this sort of thing goes.”
“Big family.” Brendon grinned. “My aunt has several children who are younger than I, and by the time they came out into society, I was the only one of my siblings still at home. So, the duty of glaring fell on me. They’re all happily married now, but none of their husbands or wives got to them before going through me.”
Spencer laughed, imagining Brendon staring down some nervous youth who’d had the unfortunate notion to court someone under Brendon’s care. “We’ll be a formidable match against any of their suitors, then.”
Brendon nodded. “Of course we will. But, like I said, I think Jackie and Crystal will be able to hold their own just fine.”
Up to that point, the girls had shown little interest in more than their horses and going into town, but Spencer could feel that time drawing to a close rapidly. Still, it was good to know that he’d have someone to support him through what he was sure would be a trying time. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do.” Brendon watched him with dark, steady eyes, and Spencer felt something inside him flutter. “You’ve helped raise them into two beautiful, strong ladies. You’re a good big brother, Spencer.”
Spencer swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Brendon said, a hint of teasing in his smile. “Raspberry?”
“Please.”
“Close your eyes,” Brendon said.
Spencer gave him a sceptical look. “Why?”
“Don’t you have any sense of adventure?” Brendon asked, definitely teasing now. “Have a little faith. Close your eyes.”
Spencer frowned but did as told, trying to suppress the instinct to dodge as he felt Brendon move in closer. Growing up with Ryan had provided some excellent lessons about vigilance that were hard to unlearn. Spencer still remembered the time they were five and six and Ryan had try to feed him a worm in a situation very similar to the one he was in now.
“Open your mouth.”
Spencer did. Reluctantly. Brendon leaned in closer.
Spencer’s first reaction was relief, recognising the familiar texture of a raspberry against his bottom lip. He pursed his lips to take it into his mouth, and relief was quickly followed by shock when he felt Brendon’s lips brush against his own, pushing the berry forward.
Brendon kissed him; Spencer could still feel the smile on his lips. The flavour of raspberry filled his mouth, and he subconsciously parted his lips wider to let Brendon taste it, raising one hand to Brendon’s cheek to keep him in place.
Brendon made a small sound at the back of his throat, kissing back eagerly, and something painful tightened in Spencer’s chest.
He nearly winced when he had to push Brendon back, a familiar sense of guilt washing over him at the sight of Brendon’s confused expression.
“Spencer..?”
Spencer reached between them and took Brendon’s hand in his. “Brendon, there’s something I-”
“What?” Brendon asked quickly. “Tell me.”
“It’s. God, Brendon, I really don’t know how to say this.”
“Did you not like it?” Brendon asked, looking worried. “I’m sorry, I-”
“No, no,” Spencer said quickly. “No, I liked it. It’s just-” He met Brendon’s eyes, seeing the uncertainty there, mixed not only with hurt but with something that looked a lot like hope. Brendon squeezed his hand. God, this was so not the right time.
“I don’t think we should,” Spencer finished lamely, kicking himself inside. “I mean,” he quickly amended as a different thought popped into his head, “I think we’ve gone about this the wrong way. Our marriage happened so quickly, and now I can’t help but feel...” He felt a blush spread across his face. “I want to court you, Brendon. Properly.”
Brendon pulled back, surprise clear on his face. The he ducked his head, and Spencer could see a small smile touch his lips.
Brendon looked up, face as pink as Spencer’s felt. Then, he laughed brightly. “We’re going about this backwards, aren’t we, courting after we’re already married?”
Spencer could still feel the blush burning at his cheeks, but he couldn’t help but laugh as well.
Brendon’s legs were cramping and his back was sore, but the day had been well worth it. The girls had dragged him to London with them, showing him all the little shops they’d discovered on their escapades, forcing little trinkets and the occasional confection on him and generally showering him with attention.
He’d have thought that a day that full of excitement and surprises would have had them chattering on the entire ride back to Summerlin, but apparently, it had absolutely exhausted them instead. They sat across from him in the carriage, fast asleep and leaning against each other. The curls that had been in Crystal’s hair that morning had flattened out, and Jackie’s chignon had fallen down long ago. A hat that Crystal had fallen in love with in town was currently in her lap, slowly sliding out of her grasp. Brendon caught it before it hit the floor, gently placing it next to him.
The carriage finally came to a halt, and Brendon breathed a sigh of relief as the door was opened and the girls woke up just enough to be able to walk up to their room.
He took a single box from the veritable pile of shopping the girls had accumulated and left instructions with a servant that all of the other things be taken upstairs before turning toward the house.
“Good evening, my lord,” Zack greeted him as he entered, helping Brendon out of his jacket. “You had a good trip, I take it?”
“Very good, thank you, Zack.” Brendon smiled tiredly. “The girls really enjoyed themselves, I think.”
“I’m sure they did. They were practically asleep on their feet as they went up to their room.”
“Good. I’m sure they’re easier to keep up with when they’re like that.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “Zack, you wouldn’t happen to know where Spencer is, would you?”
“I believe he’s in the West parlour,” Zack said. “Good night, my lord.”
Brendon nodded. “Thank you, Zack. Good night.”
As Zack moved off to his own quarters, Brendon headed for the West parlour, the box he’d taken from the pile held close.
The double doors to the parlour were open, and Brendon smiled at the sight before him. Spencer was sitting with his back to him, apparently engrossed in a novel as he sipped at a glass of red wine. Brendon entered the room quietly, not really wanting to disturb the scene but excited to do so at the same time.
“Hey,” he said, voice soft as he settled himself on the armrest of Spencer’s chair.
Spencer looked up at him with a smile, shifting away automatically to make more room. “Welcome back.”
Brendon felt his heart skip a beat. He stayed still for a moment and then, in a fit of daring, leaned yet a little bit closer. “It’s good to be back.”
Spencer kept smiling. “How was the trip?”
“Exhausting, but fun. The girls gave me my own personal tour of everything worth seeing in the entire city.”
Spencer laughed, low and understanding, making Brendon feel suddenly warm. “The girls were very excited to show you everything before you left, so I can only imagine that excitement escalated once you got there.”
“By tenfold,” Brendon agreed. “I’m glad to be home.”
Spencer’s face softened at that, and his arm brushed against Brendon’s thigh, if only barely.
“I only wish you could have come with us,” Brendon continued. “I hated leaving you behind. Especially with nothing but estate affairs to entertain you. But I brought you something back.” He offered the box he was holding to Spencer. “Consider it an apology. Or a souvenir, perhaps.”
Spencer gave him a curious look before untying the ribbon around the box and lifting the lid, taking out a small, silver box decorated in delicate, silver-purple lilacs.
“It’s a Dream Box,” Brendon explained. “You put it by your bed, and it gives you sweet dreams. At least, that’s what the man at the shop said.”
Spencer smiled, setting the box in he lap. “Thank you.”
Brendon ducked his head, leaning in, forgetting himself for a moment. Spencer evaded him.
Brendon sighed. “I know, I know. Slow.”
Spencer watched him for a moment, clearly conflicted. Then he gently took Brendon’s face in his hands, bringing him down for a soft, chaste kiss.
Brendon shivered, his mouth tingling delightfully. He pressed his forehead to Spencer’s, closing his eyes and revelling in the moment.
It was definitely good to be back home.
Spencer twisted his hands, scolding himself inwardly for the nervous gesture but unable to stop and feeling that he had to look absolutely ridiculous to the servants passing him on their way to complete early morning chores. He was standing outside of his own husband’s door at an almost ungodly hour, looking like he was about to commit some sort of indecency-which was an extremely silly thing to worry about, since Brendon was, after all, Spencer’s husband.
He was being ridiculous. Spencer rounded his shoulders, took a deep breath and forced himself to knock. When Brendon didn’t come immediately, Spencer bit his lip. Should he knock again? He didn’t want to be an annoyance, and he’d certainly understand why someone would be annoyed at being roused so early.
Spencer fought back and forth with himself for a few more moments; he was about to turn and leave when the door swung open and Brendon suddenly stood right in front of him, still tying a robe around himself, his hair an utter mess. The little terrier, Bogart, had taken to sleeping in Brendon’s room and was now practically dancing around his feet.
“Spencer?” Brendon blinked blearily up at him, bending to scoop Bogart up into his arms. “Is everything all right?”
Spencer didn’t know how Brendon managed to look so attractive directly after tumbling out of bed, but he couldn’t deny that Brendon rubbing the sleep from his eyes and leaning against the door frame was incredibly endearing.
“I,” he stammered, wishing he’d taken the time to rehearse what he was about to say a bit more. “I was awake and. I was just thinking that I’ve been busier than usual attending to Summerlin or running after the girls.” Christ, he sounded like a nervous teenager. “And I was wondering if you’d care to join me on a morning ride.”
Brendon stepped back for a moment, squinting at the cuckoo clock he’d recently procured on a shopping excursion with Jackie and Crystal. “It’s barely past six.”
Too early. Of course it was too early. Spencer mentally kicked himself. “I understand,” he said. “This was a rather sudden request. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Brendon smiled sleepily at him. “If you’ll wait a few minutes, it won’t take me long to get dressed. I’ll meet you down in the dining hall?”
Spencer returned his smile, reminding himself to reign it in a bit. He didn’t want to look desperate and end up scaring Brendon away when there was something so important to show him. “Of course.”
Brendon nodded. “See you there.”
The door softly clicked as Brendon shut it, and Spencer automatically stifled the urge to open it again, just as he almost nightly stifled the urge to open the door that separated their rooms. If he was going to eventually win Brendon over, he reminded himself, he had to be a gentleman; that was how courting worked.
God, but it was hard to accomplish sometimes.
Regardless, he quickly quashed any thoughts that wanted to run in a more inappropriate direction and withdrew his riding gloves from his jacket’s pocket, pulling them on as he headed for the dining hall to wait.
It was only about ten minutes before Brendon came down the stairs, looping a leather bag over his shoulder and combing his fingers quickly through his hair. Bogart danced happily around his feet, his entire back-end wagging from side to side.
Spencer smiled. “Ready?”
Brendon nodded. “Mostly. I don’t have any gloves. Somehow, getting some never came up when Crystal and Jackie took me shopping last week. I don’t really mind calluses on my hands, though.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I’m positive I can find you a pair somewhere around here, for now. We’ll have some made for you the next time the girls insist on a shopping adventure.”
Brendon laughed. “I’m fine, Spencer. Really. I’m more concerned with what horse I’m going to ride. The girls will kill me if I try for Annabelle or Misty, and I’ve only just made friends with Silverspoon, not to mention he’s your horse in the first place. I haven’t really got to know the other horses yet.”
Spencer bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. “Come on, the sun is breaking over the horizon.”
When they got to the stables, Cash was finishing saddling Silverspoon, pushing up on the horse’s belly before buckling the strap. He smiled as they approached. “Good morning, my lords.”
“Good morning, Cash,” Spencer greeted. “Is he still holding his breath when you saddle him?”
Cash nodded, giving Silverspoon a slanted look. “He’s too smart for his own good, my lord. I’ve been trying to work with him on it, especially since you’ve been around the estate more often lately, but he just won’t be broken of the habit.”
“Hm.” Spencer took hold of Silverspoon’s reins and ran his hand down his nose. “Are you being terrible, Silverspoon? You’re really too old to be acting like a colt, now.”
Silverspoon nickered at him, nudging Spencer’s hand. “You’re hopeless, you stubborn thing.”
Brendon laughed. “At least he lets you touch him. He barely can stand my presence, even after all this time, not to mention the dozens of apples I’ve given him as peace offerings.”
“Ross Arabians are sneaky,” Spencer said with a smile. “They’ll take your peace offerings and double cross you without a second thought.” He fondly scratched the white mark between Silverspoon’s eyes. “Cash, is the other ready?”
Cash nodded. “Of course, my lord.” He disappeared into a stall at the end of the stables and reappeared a moment later leading a beautiful black horse by the reins, handing them over to Spencer.
“Oh, wow,” Brendon said, eyes wide. “Are you really going to let me ride him? Is he another one of Ryan’s?”
“He was, but Ryan said he was too high spirited for his particular tastes,” Spencer replied. “I assumed he’d be perfect for you.”
“You... You bought him for me?”
Spencer held out the reins to Brendon, his heart beating fast. “His name is Allegro.”
Brendon hesitated a moment before tentatively accepting the reins. “Hello, Allegro,” he almost whispered, voice slightly rough as he ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “How are you this morning?” He turned to Spencer and smiled, bright and impossibly wide. “Thank you.”
Spencer felt his cheeks flush. “I was hoping you’d like him.”
“Of course I do,” Brendon said, his voice soft and reverent. The horse looked at Brendon with bright, curious eyes, its ears pricked forward and its tail held high. It snorted at him then pawed at the ground. Brendon laughed, low and soft. “Are you getting restless, boy? Ready to try me out as a rider? Let’s go, then.”
They led their horses out of the stables and set off for the woods West of the manor. Allegro was definitely of high spirits, Spencer noted, dancing across the ground rather than walking and trying to throw his head up whenever something new crossed their path. Brendon seemed to be handling him well, however, giving the horse just enough rein to blow off some energy while keeping him steady, and Spencer soon stopped worrying and started to enjoy the ride, leading them through the woods at a quick trot. The horses relaxed into it more as well, and Spencer sat back deeper in the saddle, signalling Silverspoon to lengthen his gait and curve his neck, making the ride smooth and easy.
They rode for over an hour, Spencer taking the opportunity to show Brendon parts of the estate he hadn’t seen before and just spending time with him, talking about everything and nothing at all as they paused for a while by a stream and let the horses drink their fill. As breakfast time approached and was passed, they turned to go back, urging their horses into another fast trot.
As they broke out of the woods, they came to another stop, both of them smiling widely and breathing hard as they looked across the land spreading out before them. Spencer raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, deliberating over where to go next to get home most quickly.
Brendon beat him to it.
“Race you across the field?”
Spencer nodded, excited, and answered Brendon’s grin before putting his heels to Silverspoon’s sides. He leaned forward in the saddle as they picked up speed, giving a little more rein and letting Silverspoon’s gait flatten out into a gallop. He could hear Brendon right behind him, gaining on them, coming up side by side as they jumped a hedge together and crossed into the next field.
“Bye, Spencer,” Brendon called over his shoulder as Allegro went impossibly faster, leaving Spencer and Silverspoon in the dust.
“It’s not over yet,” Spencer called back, with more bravado than he felt, because Brendon was almost at the creek, bound to get there first unless Silverspoon suddenly spurted wings, and-
The creek. Spencer’s heart seized up with sudden panic. As far as he knew, Brendon had never walked this particular path before. Which meant he wouldn’t know about the way the ground dropped after the last hedge, or about the deep ditch that ran right behind it, guiding water from creek to the fields nearby. If Brendon didn’t see it in time...
He called Brendon’s name, flattening himself against Silverspoon’s neck, begging him to run faster. Brendon and Allegro came up to the hedge, and Spencer saw the moment they realised what lay behind, heard Brendon cry out in surprise and distress as Allegro twisted his hind legs mid-jump, bucking to make the ditch and sending Brendon flying out of the saddle.
And then there was nothing.
“No!” Spencer forced himself to rein Silverspoon in, shortening his gait in preparation for the jump. They cleared the ditch easily, both of them knowing the terrain too well not to, and Spencer was out of the saddle almost before the horse had fully come to a halt.
“Brendon!”
Brendon was lying in the grass, looking broken and far too still. Spencer fell to his knees, leaning over him and pressing two fingers against Brendon’s neck, desperately checking for a sign that he was still alive. He almost choked in relief when he felt a faint pulse, quickly moving to turn Brendon onto his back, taking Brendon’s head in his lap to lift him up a little and make it easier for him to breathe.
Brendon slowly began to stir, letting out a pained moan that made Spencer’s chest clench up in fear all over again. The hand that wasn’t holding on to Brendon’s shoulder went to his face, and when Brendon blinked and opened his eyes, looking up at Spencer with a puzzled expression, Spencer was utterly lost. He bent his head, pulling Brendon closer and tilting his face up, taking his mouth in a desperate kiss, letting the fear give way to relief when Brendon moved further into his touch and kissed him back, just as fervently. Brendon’s hands went to Spencer’s jacket, moving uncertainly over the dark material on Spencer’s shoulders before growing bolder and finding their way to his waistcoat and shirt. Spencer responded in kind, all thoughts of propriety and boundaries forgotten as he kissed Brendon again, tangling both hands in his hair as Brendon rolled them over and came down on top of him.
Brendon’s lips travelled down the side of his face to his neck, hands stroking along the fabric of Spencer’s collar, pulling at it ineffectively to clear the way for those maddening kisses to move lower, making Spencer’s breath turn short and laboured in the process.
Brendon moved to a spot just beneath Spencer’s jaw, accidentally grazing it with his teeth, and Spencer found himself arching off the ground, head thrown back on a moan and dizzy with fear and adrenaline and the overwhelming pleasure of Brendon’s hands and mouth, warming him up from the inside until he was trashing on the ground, unable to decide what part to press closer to Brendon and defaulting to trying for everything at the same time. He pulled Brendon back up and took his mouth in another deep kiss, running his hands down Brendon’s back before shakily sliding them between their bodies and finding the buttons of Brendon’s waistcoat.
Brendon moaned into his mouth, pressing his body eagerly into Spencer’s hands. And then he suddenly froze, breaking the kiss and scrambling away, pulling at his dishevelled clothing.
“What-?” Spencer managed, mindlessly trying to follow as Brendon pulled back, his whole body aching to get him back on the ground.
“Someone’s coming,” Brendon replied, brushing grass off his trousers and trying to smooth his hair down. “Quick. Hurry.”
The words effectively cut through the fog in Spencer’s head, and true enough, there were the definite sounds of a horse and rider approaching, probably just down the path through the nearby woods and about to break into the clearing at any moment.
“Shit.”
Spencer’s hands automatically went to his shirt, trying to straighten any wrinkles and looking wildly around for his riding hat that he’d lost in his haste to get to Brendon’s side. Brendon scrambled for his own, putting it on his head and managing to get the top button on his waistcoat refastened just in time.
Crystal and Jackie burst into the clearing, looking scared and flushed from riding, Crystal holding the reins of Silverspoon tightly. In the chaos of everything that had happened, Spencer hadn’t even noticed he’d wandered off.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” Crystal exclaimed.
“We were just on the other side of the woods, and Silverspoon came through.”
“Alone.”
“What happened?”
“Did you take a fall?”
“Are you okay?”
“Did you break anything?”
“We’re fine,” Brendon said, giving the girls a smile and starting to look around the clearing for his own horse. “Spencer didn’t fall, I did. I took a jump wrong, that’s all. Silly of me. We were racing and I didn’t look ahead.”
“You were racing?” Crystal asked, astonished. “Spencer never lets us race!”
Spencer gave her a look. “Brendon just fell off his horse. I’d think you’d have more manners than to debate that sort of thing right now.”
Crystal bit her lip and looked down, cheeks blushing.
“No, no, really,” Brendon insisted again. “I’m perfectly fine. Just a couple of scrapes here and there. Maybe we should get back to the house, though, so I can take care of them.”
Spencer nodded. “Of course. Do you think you can ride, or..?”
Brendon smiled. “I’m scratched and bruised, not crippled.” He moved towards Allegro, who was grazing happily behind a group of trees. The slow, jerking movements he made told Spencer that he was in pain, but Brendon still managed to haul himself back up on his horse, wincing as he brought his leg up and over.
Spencer bit his lip, unsure whether or not he should let Brendon continue back to the house on Allegro in his condition, but the horse seemed fairly calm for just having thrown his rider, and Brendon didn’t seem to be in incredible pain when Allegro followed his lead, slowly walking back toward Summerlin.
Spencer quickly mounted Silverspoon and signalled to him to follow Brendon. “Come on, girls.”
Jackie and Crystal fell into a slow pace behind them, and Spencer rode up beside Brendon, careful not to spook Allegro a second time.
Getting to Summerlin took longer than anticipated, and it was almost lunch time before they were back at the house, horses safely in the stables with Ian.
Greta started fussing over Brendon the moment she saw him, her face growing alarmed as the girls explained what had happened. She pulled him into the front parlour and instructed him to sit and wait as she went and retrieved bandages and alcohol.
Spencer watched sullenly as she cleaned him up, chiding him like a child and shooing the girls away to give him a chance to breathe. When she was finally done bandaging his few scrapes, she smiled and told him to get some rest before excusing herself, leaving Spencer and Brendon alone at last.
There was a moment when Spencer wasn’t sure what he should say, if he should even say anything at all about what happened between them. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d taken advantage of Brendon somehow; he’d looked so vulnerable, and Spencer had been so frightened at the prospect of him being seriously hurt or worse. And then he wasn’t, and-
“I-” Spencer started, at the same time as Brendon said, “Spencer-”
Brendon smiled. “You first.”
Spencer pushed down the impulse of closing the distance and pressing his lips to Brendon’s smile. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologise for earlier,” he said, looking away. “I was... afraid and let an impulse take me over. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He kept his eyes down, turning towards the window and proceeding to stare out at the grounds as the silence grew between them.
“Spencer.”
Spencer steeled himself and turned around. Brendon took a step closer, then hesitated, confusion and something uncertain flickering across his face.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated, looking away again and wishing they could just go back to doing what they had this morning, with the jokes and easy camaraderie instead of the thick tension between them now.
“No need to apologise,” Brendon said, taking a step back. “Everything is fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Spencer watched him leave with a heavy feeling in his stomach, repressing the sudden urge to go after Brendon and ask him to stay, to tell him how he could barely work anymore because all he could think about was getting out of his office and trying to make Brendon smile.
God, Spencer was so bad at this whole courting thing.
There was a knock at the door only moments later, and Spencer’s head immediately snapped towards the sound, heart beating fast in his chest at the thought of Brendon coming back. “Come in.”
He barely managed to conceal his disappointment when a messenger stepped into the room, bowing quickly and handing over an official-looking letter. Spencer thanked him and turned the letter over to look at the seal. It bore the royal stamp. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I will need to bring a reply back directly, my lord,” the messenger said. “His Majesty was most insistent.”
Spencer nodded. “I will have one drawn up in an hour or so. Please ask one of the servants to direct you to the kitchens in the meantime.”
The messenger bowed his acceptance and left, leaving Spencer alone with the letter in his hand. He walked over to his desk and sat down, breaking the seal and smoothing out the rich parchment. The note was brief and to the point, and Spencer could actually feel himself pale as he read it a second time, wishing rather than believing that he was mistaken in its meaning.
After the third time, there was no avoiding it. Spencer folded up the letter with unsteady hands and left the room to find his husband.
Their marriage had been contested. Spencer and Brendon were summoned to court.
“A what?”
“A summons from the king,” Spencer said, pacing in front of the windows in a way that was starting to make Brendon nervous. “Our marriage has been contested.”
“But why?” Brendon said, an uneasy feeling starting to spread in his gut. “And by whom? Who could possibly have grounds for such a thing?”
“Oh, I can think of a few people,” Spencer said, sounding agitated. “Your parents, for example. You married without their consent.”
“I’m of age,” Brendon replied. “And they were absolutely delighted, look.” He briskly walked over to his desk, searching in the top drawer for the letter he had received from his father shortly after they arrived at Summerlin. “My father congratulates me on my most fortunate match and lets us know that he’ll be of assistance to my lord and husband in whichever way he can. They wanted me to marry a noble, Spencer. And you’re far beyond their wildest expectations. It couldn’t be them.”
“The man they contracted you to then,” Spencer said. “Lord Saporta isn’t known to simply accept it when things don’t go his way.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Brendon conceded. “But I never signed the engagement papers. He doesn’t have a valid claim.”
Spencer kept pacing, muttering about how formalities weren’t something that would keep Lord Saporta from trying to get something he wanted. Then he suddenly stopped short.
“Fuck.”
“What?” Brendon said, hearing his voice crack a little. “Spencer, what is it?”
“I’m-” Spencer started, eyes wide. “We didn’t marry in the proper context. It wasn’t witnessed correctly.”
“Because Mikey was mostly asleep?” Brendon asked. “How would anyone even know that? I’m sure Gerard and Frank would testify that-”
“It’s not that,” Spencer interrupted him. “The Marquess of Summerlin must be married in presence of the king or queen. His future spouse must be approved beforehand; it’s a meaningless, tradition-driven decree that goes back to the time my family received the title. God, I can’t believe I forgot!”
“There was no time,” Brendon insisted, stepping close and grabbing Spencer’s left arm to keep him from pacing. “I was about to leave. You saved me. If you hadn’t, I’d probably been somewhere in the colonies right now, trying my hand at hunting buffaloes or joining up with a native tribe. Surely, the king will understand.”
Spencer looked away, and Brendon got the same feeling as he’d had earlier when they came back from the woods, like Spencer was pulling away, unwilling to be too close to Brendon’s person.
Brendon let go of his arm and stepped back.
“We should start packing,” Spencer said. “Take your most expensive things. We need to show ourselves from our best side. I’ll alert the servants that we’re leaving. Someone should be up shortly to help.”
“Spencer,” Brendon tried, reaching out and catching Spencer’s hand to keep him from leaving. A million questions were suddenly swirling in his mind, mixed with a fear that grew steadily stronger. “Spencer, wait.”
“I have to go,” Spencer told him, face softening when he met Brendon’s eyes. “I need to send a messenger to Rosings, ask Ryan to borrow some things. Court this time of year is an endless parade of parties and balls, and there is no time to have you fitted for those kinds of clothes. Whatever Ryan can spare will have to do for now.”
“But-” Brendon tried again, suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect of being at court in the capacity of a titled nobleman of high standing. Of being expected to join in the festivities instead of just watching politely from the sidelines. His head began to spin.
“I’ll send someone up right away,” Spencer promised, bringing Brendon’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner, and then we leave tomorrow at first light.”
He walked out with a rueful look thrown over his shoulder at Brendon, and Brendon numbly walked over to his bed, slumping down on it and looking blankly out the window.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue | Bonus material
It was a rare, quiet moment for Spencer. He’d allowed the girls a day off from their lessons, so they were outside in the fields somewhere. Spencer was sure they were dressed head to toe in their riding frocks and making a mad dash for the stables the moment the okay had left his lips.
None of the servants were bothering him, and Ryan, who visited more often than not, these days, had preoccupied himself with something or other, probably tucking himself into a nook somewhere with one of Spencer’s books that he’d borrowed from Summerlin’s library.
Spencer tried to make good use of the moment to get some much needed paperwork and filing attended to-offering to show Brendon more of the estate had quickly turned into spending virtually no time in his study anymore-but found he just couldn’t put his head into it. Sunlight was streaming in through the large, open windows of his study, and it was making him fidget with restlessness. He felt a bit like a teenager again, the urgent yearning brought on by springtime sprouting in his chest and giving insistent little tugs every fifteen minutes or so. Spencer sighed.
He stared down at the papers before them, realising that his quill was already pressed beside the ‘X’ of a document to approve removing a large portion of his land’s forest. He shoved it away, dropping the quill and putting his head into his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration. His eyes wandered back to the light streaming through his windows as soon as he opened them again, and Spencer finally gave in to the urge to move closer, climbing up onto the window seat and making a nest of the pillows on it.
The study’s windows had one of the best views in Summerlin, overlooking the vast fields that rolled into hills in the distance, a creek darting through them. The water sparkled in the sun, and the rays warmed Spencer’s face and shoulders.
He smiled when Crystal came into view, her skirts gathered much too high to be proper for a lady of her age and social standing as she ran toward the hills. Her hair, which had been carefully pleated by Greta that morning, was starting to come undone, blonde waves framing her smiling face. Jackie followed after her, her skirts actually tied around her waist, her hair completely free of ribbons or trinkets. They looked so much like his mother it hurt.
Then, to Spencer’s surprise, Brendon came into view, running after the two girls. Somewhere, he’d lost the jacket he’d been wearing that morning, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, his vest in utter disarray.
He started closing in on Jackie, and when she looked over her shoulder to find him bearing down on her, Spencer could almost hear her startled yelp through the window pane. Brendon grinned and scooped her up into his arms. She flailed in his grip, tripping him so that Brendon landed gracelessly on his back, Jackie a blonde mess of skirts and waving arms.
Crystal looked like she was going into hysterics from laughing too hard.
Spencer smiled, touching his forehead to the cool window. He was relieved that Brendon liked his sisters so much and that they had taken to him so quickly. He had been nervous about Brendon being overwhelmed by the girls or the twins not liking him for some reason or another. Instead, they seemed to get along wonderfully, acting more like siblings than even Spencer and his sisters did anymore.
The springtime longing pulled at his chest again as he watched Crystal help untangle Brendon and Jackie, still laughing her head off. Brendon was laughing too, swiping grass stains off of his knees and elbows and helping pick leaves and bits of grass out of Jackie’s dress and hair.
“Damn it,” Spencer muttered, closing his eyes. He wanted so badly to go join them in their game, chasing the girls through the field. Or just spending time with them, really.
Giving in too often was dangerous, though. Every time Brendon smiled at him, it became a little harder to remember why Spencer couldn’t just reach out and touch him. Brendon easily got excited, and when he talked, he did so with his whole body, often accidentally brushing against Spencer in the process.
So Spencer rationed those moments, giving himself time to compose himself between each one. He’d allowed himself a game of mechanical chess alone with Brendon the night before. Playing tag in the sun less than 24 hours later was definitely not advisable.
Still, there was no reason why he couldn’t watch them as he did his paperwork.
Spencer stood, disturbing his nest of pillows momentarily to retrieve some documents, ink, quill and a book to use as a hard surface to write on before returning to his seat at the window.
Needless to say, he spent more time watching his family play in the sunshine than working for the rest of the afternoon.
From everything he’d seen of Summerlin since he arrived, Brendon liked the pastures the best. He started walking there almost every day, enjoying the sun and the company of the horses. This morning, Spencer was with him, walking by his side and pointing out this thing and that as they passed through the grounds.
“The horse over there is my favourite,” Brendon said once they reached the pastures, pointing out a proud gray Arabian that seemed to always keep himself at a distance from the other horses. “He never comes over when I call, and yet he always manages to get me to bring him more apples.”
Spencer laughed and climbed up on the top of the fence, offering Brendon a hand to help him up. “You want me to call him over?”
“You can try,” Brendon said, grinning. “I’m telling you, that one’s-” He broke off as Spencer whistled, a low, melodic sound that instantly made the horse look up and break into a trot, making his way towards them.
“This is Silverspoon,” Spencer said once the gelding was close enough to touch. “He’s been mine since he was a colt. Ryan bred him for me as gift on my eighteenth birthday.” He reached out and scratched the horse between the ears, and Brendon watched in amazement as the horse, instead of tossing its head as it did with Brendon, pushed into the touch, urging Spencer to find all the good spots. “Go on, say hello.”
Brendon reached out tentatively, expecting Silverspoon to shy away. With Spencer scratching him, the horse stayed calm, however, and Brendon put a hand against the gleaming coat on the neck, petting with long movements the way his horses at home had always liked. “He’s beautiful.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Spencer replied, stroking Silverspoon gently down the centre of his face. “You should come with me to Ryan’s estate sometime. He breeds the most beautiful horses.”
The thought of going somewhere with Spencer, even if it was just to his best friend’s estate, made something tingle excitedly in Brendon’s stomach. After a month at his new home, he was feeling at ease with most things, but his and Spencer’s relationship remained virtually unchanged from what it had been when they were first married. They were closer now, to be sure, and spent a lot more time together, but Spencer kept him at a distance, and every time Brendon had tried to hint at a possibility for a more intimate relationship, Spencer had been quick to step back.
Still, Brendon was nothing if not persistent.
He reached into a pocket for a couple of carrots he’d taken with him and offered one to Spencer, making sure their fingers brushed in the exchange. Spencer’s breath caught a little in his throat, but the only open acknowledgement he got was a polite “thank you” before Spencer turned his full attention back on the horse.
Brendon sighed and handed him the second carrot.
Before Brendon came to Summerlin, Spencer had found late nights most enjoyable. They were the only time of the day when he was really alone-any other moment filled with running the estate, chasing after the girls to somehow get them to study and doing various odd tasks that just needed to get done. When he was younger, he’d used to be very much like Jackie and Crystal, always into something-with Ryan as his partner in crime, of course-and never still for more than a few minutes at a time. He’d broken Silverspoon himself at nineteen and had spent many days exploring the vast expanse that was Summerlin’s fields for months after.
But then his father had died unexpectedly three years later, and with the sudden weight of a title and responsibility of caring for his sisters and Summerlin, he hadn’t had a lot of time for himself these past couple of years. Nights were his quiet time, his few moments of reprieve before bed, when he could just sit and relish the fact that people weren’t calling his name constantly.
He didn’t much enjoy those quiet nights anymore.
Spencer set the book he’d been trying to read down in his lap, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. A headache twinged behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut.
Focusing had become almost impossible lately. It was frustrating, particularly so because he knew the cause and still couldn’t bear to do anything about it.
He’d tried telling Brendon the truth, again and again, but with every day, it became ten times harder. Brendon was making a home at Summerlin, adjusting to his new position and taking pride in finding things he could do to help Spencer run the estate. Just the other day, Brendon had taken his hand as they were walking back from the lake, telling him how glad he was that his family’s money had been able to accomplish something more meaningful than just another ship and larger numbers in a book.
Spencer had squeezed his hand and smiled, feeling guilt eat at him all over again.
He opened his eyes again, gaze lighting on the door that separated his room from Brendon’s. In his mind, there was an instant image of him crowding Brendon up against that door, hands working themselves into Brendon’s hair, guiding Brendon’s jaw up to expose just that much more skin for him to kiss.
On a hitched breath, Spencer pressed the heel of his palm into his crotch. The mental image was a frequently returning one, so familiar that he could almost imagine the heat of Brendon’s skin against his hands, feel his breath against his cheek.
He sighed, reaching into his pyjama pocket and withdrawing his watch. The intricate pattern of the golden wire that caged it gleamed in the light of the candle beside his bed. His thumb swiped over it, slowly pressing into the flowing grooves until they left impressions on his skin.
Spencer flipped the lid open, watching the teeth of the cogs piece themselves together and then pull apart again, moving at various paces to inform him with smoothly ticking hands that it was one-thirty-two and fifteen, sixteen, seventeen seconds in the morning.
His palm pressed around the pocket watch, letting the two knobs on its edge dig into his skin before he snapped it shut again and placed it on his bedside table. Somehow, he needed to make a change. If he couldn’t bring himself to tell Brendon the truth, then maybe he could find other ways to make things up to him.
Spencer blew out the candle and shook his head. He’d spent enough time pining for one night.
After meeting Silverspoon the first time, Brendon made up a plan to win him over. Spencer had told him-a note of pride in his voice-that the horse was true to his breed and a bit of a stubborn hot head when he wanted to be, but Brendon was sure that some persistence and a couple of apples would win him over.
Seven apples-not counting those Annabelle and Misty had gotten off him-and endless hours of cooing later, Brendon had barely managed to get within ten feet of Silverspoon without him trotting away, head and tail held high.
He was heading away from the fields when he heard excited barking off in the distance. He’d never seen a dog loose on the property before, and the first thought that crossed his mind was that it might be wild or rabid and would go after the horses. He rushed back toward the sound as quickly as he could, only to find that most of the horses didn’t seem particularly troubled by the barking, grazing peacefully as the shape of a little white and brown dog ran in circles around them, barking happily and wagging his tail.
When he was only a few yards away from the fence, he saw Silverspoon approach the dog, lean down to sniff it and then start trotting around in circles, swaying his head back and forth and occasionally stopping to kick up some dirt. Something about his actions looked off, not quite agitated but still not normal at all. Brendon moved closer and then slowed to a stop, suddenly realising why the horse’s actions were so alarming to him. He’d never actually seen Silverspoon-proud, aloof Silverspoon-play before.
Brendon quickly withdrew an apple from the leather bag he’d begun carrying with him to hold the apples and his lunch everyday. He used a pocketknife to slice off a piece of the apple and extended it to the dog, thinking that if he could reel in the stray, then he could lure Silverspoon to him as well.
Both the horse and the dog stopped their playing briefly, acknowledging him with steady, questioning eyes.
“Here, boy,” Brendon tried hopefully, kneeling to get down closer to the little dog’s level. “You know you want some apple, puppy.”
The dog approached him cautiously, stretching his neck to tentatively sniff at the apple. For a brief moment, Brendon thought he’d take it, but he just sneezed before returning to Silverspoon, wagging his tail happily.
Brendon huffed, then got another idea, pulling his sandwich from the bag and extending it toward the dog. “Here, boy.”
The dog regarded him once again, but when his eyes landed on Brendon’s sandwich, he pounced, eagerly biting into it. He ate most of it in under a minute, and when there was nothing but crumbs left, he turned to Brendon, pressing his nose into Brendon’s hand and lapping between his fingers.
Brendon laughed and scratched behind his ears. “Sorry, puppy. I don’t have any more than that.”
The dog didn’t seem to care; he leaned into Brendon’s scratching fingers, then flipped onto his back, his tail thumping happily against the ground.
Brendon smiled, rubbing the dog’s stomach. He noticed Silverspoon taking a careful step closer and trained his attention on playing with the dog so he didn’t scare him away. He didn’t come closer than seven or eight feet, but the dog clearly enjoyed Brendon’s attentions, so Brendon kept his focus on that, helpless in front of possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
When he finally made it back to the house, Zack was there to greet him at the door. “The others are just starting to head toward the table, my lord,” he told Brendon, motioning for a servant to take his coat and hat. Then he frowned, looking past where Brendon was standing and broke into a smile. “Looks like you caught an extra shadow on your way home.”
Brendon looked over his shoulder and grinned when he saw the puppy. He knelt to scratch under the dog’s chin. It looked up at him with large brown eyes, and Brendon couldn’t keep himself from feeling a bit guilty for having to leave him. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside with me.”
The dog whined, and Brendon bit his lip.
“Oh!” Jackie exclaimed from somewhere behind him, clasping her hands. “Crystal, Brendon’s brought a puppy home!”
Instantly, Crystal rushed to the doorway. She leaned over Brendon’s shoulder, gasping happily. “He’s so cute! Brendon, where did you find it?”
The dog barked up at Crystal and darted behind Brendon to jump up, pressing his front paws against Crystal’s skirts. “He was playing with the horses in the fields,” Brendon told them. “He must have followed me home.”
Crystal scooped him up in her arms, cooing at him. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing in the whole world?”
“Yes, you are,” Jackie contributed, scratching behind his ears. “Oh, yes, you are.”
“Girls, really,” Spencer’s voice came, exasperated. “We’re supposed to be having dinner. What’s-”
“Spencer, Brendon brought home a puppy!”
Spencer appeared behind the girls with a rather bemused expression. The dog yipped at him, making him smile. “Looks like a Jack Russell.”
“Brendon found him in the fields with the horses.”
“Can we keep him?”
The girls looked at Spencer with wide, hopeful eyes, lips on the verge of trembling.
Spencer looked down at the dog thoughtfully, reaching out to pet him. “What do you think, Brendon?”
Brendon blinked up at him, surprised, and felt himself falter. Spencer was reaching out to scratch the puppy behind the ears, moving in close enough for Brendon to feel the heat coming from his body. “I didn’t mean to bring him home. He sort of just followed me.”
“Do you want him, though?” Spencer asked.
Brendon scratched the dog’s ear too, hand brushing against Spencer's and feeling suddenly, overwhelmingly happy. He smiled. “Yes.”
“Then let’s keep him.”
The girls squealed happily, hugging the dog between them. Spencer rolled his eyes and sent them off to freshen up again, telling them to ask one of the Alexes to set up a basket and some food by the fireplace in the upstairs sitting room.
“Thank you,” Brendon said, once they were out of sight. “For letting me keep him, I mean.”
He thought he could see Spencer’s cheeks pink slightly, which might just have been the evening chill that was coming in through the open door. He stepped out of the way, finally allowing Zack to shut it behind them.
“Maybe the puppy will be able to wear the girls out,” Spencer said, in a voice that was hopeful, but clearly said he wouldn’t place any bets on it. “They’ve been causing a ruckus all day long, even for Greta.” He ran his fingers through his hair, smiling tiredly. “Come on. Dinner is already on the table, and I’m sure you’re hungry after being out all day.”
Brendon pictured the girls running down the hallways with the puppy hot on their heels, Spencer opening the door to his study at regular intervals to fix them with a brotherly glare, and couldn’t help but laugh as he followed Spencer into the dining hall.
Breakfast was never a quiet affair at Summerlin, and today, Spencer thought, was one of those mornings where it was difficult to even get a word in.
The twins were prattling on about how excited they were to finally be going into town the next week. Spencer had known they’d been feeling restless lately (their increasingly frequent bickering was a testament to that) but he hadn’t thought that a shopping excursion would be literally all they would speak about until the trip actually happened.
“I can’t wait to go back to that little shop we discovered last time,” Crystal sighed happily. “I’ve never seen such beautiful hair trinkets as those.”
Jackie hummed her agreement. “Do you think that brass dragonfly with the moving wings is still there? I think I’m going to get it this time. The pink on it will look lovely with the dresses Spencer’s promised us.”
“Oh, yes! I can’t wait to go to Madame Simpson’s and put in our order. They’ll be absolutely glorious.”
“No more than an inch below those collarbones,” Spencer reminded them, though by the way they spoke right over him, he could tell that they were paying him no attention.
He sighed, exasperated. Brendon, who was sitting across from him, caught his eye, a slow smile growing on his face as he rolled his eyes affectionately at the girls.
God, that smile could probably stop London traffic.
Brendon bit his lip, seemingly hesitating about something, before leaning closer to Spencer across the table and raising his voice slightly to be heard over the girls.
“I was wondering,” he said, giving Spencer a hopeful smile, “if you would like to have a picnic with me this afternoon?”
The girls fell instantly silent, and Spencer felt his cheeks flush.
Jackie sighed dreamily. “A picnic would be wonderful on such a lovely day like this.”
Crystal clasped her hands together, smiling brightly. “Oh, Brendon, how romantic! Spencer, you just have to accept.”
“Of course he will. How could he not?” The girls looked at Spencer with bright, expectant eyes as Jackie asked, “Right, Spencer?”
Spencer set down his tea, trying his hardest to keep from turning an embarrassing shade of red. He smiled at Brendon and finally said, “It appears I have little choice in the matter.”
Brendon absolutely beamed at him.
Yes, Spencer decided, that smile could, without a doubt, stop London traffic.
“I must apologise,” Brendon said a little later as he led Spencer out into Summerlin’s fields, swinging a picnic basket between them. “I didn’t intend for you to be bullied into coming on this picnic with me, honestly.”
Spencer shook his head. “Don’t apologise. How could you have known they’d even hear you over their own conversation?”
Brendon laughed, bright and happy. “Even so, please know that my intention wasn’t to coerce you.”
“You didn’t, I assure you,” Spencer replied. He had originally planned to take care of some business that day, but even if that business had been urgent, Spencer couldn’t quite envision making a different choice. He happily allowed Brendon to lead him to the top of one of Summerlin’s hills and into the shade of a large tree before they stopped.
They set up the picnic in companionable silence, Spencer unfolding the blanket for them to sit on while Brendon unpacked their lunch. When everything was set out and ready, Brendon took a seat, smiling. “Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic since,” he paused, “since the royal picnic during the coronation festival.”
Spencer nodded. “Same here. But the girls always go on picnics in the summer, and I’m sure they’ll drag you along with them. In fact, I’m a little surprised they didn’t invite themselves to this one.”
Brendon laughed, reaching for a container of raspberries. “They are a bit pushy, aren’t they? In the best way possible, of course.”
“I’m not looking forward to searching for a new governess for them when Greta finally leaves us,” Spencer said. “She’s the only person I’ve met who can talk any sort of sense into them. They still run circles around everyone, but at least their elbows aren’t on the table. Usually.” Spencer sighed. “They’ve only got one more year before they’re going off to court. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them when that happens.”
Brendon shrugged, popping another berry into his mouth. “They’re good girls, Spencer. I think they’ll be fine. And when handsome young lords and ladies come calling, you’ll watch them disdainfully until they leave. The girls will then proceed to whine about you being over-protective, and you’ll tell them that it is not only your responsibility but also your right to glare at anyone within a mile radius of either of them.”
Spencer smiled. “It sounds like you know how this sort of thing goes.”
“Big family.” Brendon grinned. “My aunt has several children who are younger than I, and by the time they came out into society, I was the only one of my siblings still at home. So, the duty of glaring fell on me. They’re all happily married now, but none of their husbands or wives got to them before going through me.”
Spencer laughed, imagining Brendon staring down some nervous youth who’d had the unfortunate notion to court someone under Brendon’s care. “We’ll be a formidable match against any of their suitors, then.”
Brendon nodded. “Of course we will. But, like I said, I think Jackie and Crystal will be able to hold their own just fine.”
Up to that point, the girls had shown little interest in more than their horses and going into town, but Spencer could feel that time drawing to a close rapidly. Still, it was good to know that he’d have someone to support him through what he was sure would be a trying time. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I do.” Brendon watched him with dark, steady eyes, and Spencer felt something inside him flutter. “You’ve helped raise them into two beautiful, strong ladies. You’re a good big brother, Spencer.”
Spencer swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Brendon said, a hint of teasing in his smile. “Raspberry?”
“Please.”
“Close your eyes,” Brendon said.
Spencer gave him a sceptical look. “Why?”
“Don’t you have any sense of adventure?” Brendon asked, definitely teasing now. “Have a little faith. Close your eyes.”
Spencer frowned but did as told, trying to suppress the instinct to dodge as he felt Brendon move in closer. Growing up with Ryan had provided some excellent lessons about vigilance that were hard to unlearn. Spencer still remembered the time they were five and six and Ryan had try to feed him a worm in a situation very similar to the one he was in now.
“Open your mouth.”
Spencer did. Reluctantly. Brendon leaned in closer.
Spencer’s first reaction was relief, recognising the familiar texture of a raspberry against his bottom lip. He pursed his lips to take it into his mouth, and relief was quickly followed by shock when he felt Brendon’s lips brush against his own, pushing the berry forward.
Brendon kissed him; Spencer could still feel the smile on his lips. The flavour of raspberry filled his mouth, and he subconsciously parted his lips wider to let Brendon taste it, raising one hand to Brendon’s cheek to keep him in place.
Brendon made a small sound at the back of his throat, kissing back eagerly, and something painful tightened in Spencer’s chest.
He nearly winced when he had to push Brendon back, a familiar sense of guilt washing over him at the sight of Brendon’s confused expression.
“Spencer..?”
Spencer reached between them and took Brendon’s hand in his. “Brendon, there’s something I-”
“What?” Brendon asked quickly. “Tell me.”
“It’s. God, Brendon, I really don’t know how to say this.”
“Did you not like it?” Brendon asked, looking worried. “I’m sorry, I-”
“No, no,” Spencer said quickly. “No, I liked it. It’s just-” He met Brendon’s eyes, seeing the uncertainty there, mixed not only with hurt but with something that looked a lot like hope. Brendon squeezed his hand. God, this was so not the right time.
“I don’t think we should,” Spencer finished lamely, kicking himself inside. “I mean,” he quickly amended as a different thought popped into his head, “I think we’ve gone about this the wrong way. Our marriage happened so quickly, and now I can’t help but feel...” He felt a blush spread across his face. “I want to court you, Brendon. Properly.”
Brendon pulled back, surprise clear on his face. The he ducked his head, and Spencer could see a small smile touch his lips.
Brendon looked up, face as pink as Spencer’s felt. Then, he laughed brightly. “We’re going about this backwards, aren’t we, courting after we’re already married?”
Spencer could still feel the blush burning at his cheeks, but he couldn’t help but laugh as well.
Brendon’s legs were cramping and his back was sore, but the day had been well worth it. The girls had dragged him to London with them, showing him all the little shops they’d discovered on their escapades, forcing little trinkets and the occasional confection on him and generally showering him with attention.
He’d have thought that a day that full of excitement and surprises would have had them chattering on the entire ride back to Summerlin, but apparently, it had absolutely exhausted them instead. They sat across from him in the carriage, fast asleep and leaning against each other. The curls that had been in Crystal’s hair that morning had flattened out, and Jackie’s chignon had fallen down long ago. A hat that Crystal had fallen in love with in town was currently in her lap, slowly sliding out of her grasp. Brendon caught it before it hit the floor, gently placing it next to him.
The carriage finally came to a halt, and Brendon breathed a sigh of relief as the door was opened and the girls woke up just enough to be able to walk up to their room.
He took a single box from the veritable pile of shopping the girls had accumulated and left instructions with a servant that all of the other things be taken upstairs before turning toward the house.
“Good evening, my lord,” Zack greeted him as he entered, helping Brendon out of his jacket. “You had a good trip, I take it?”
“Very good, thank you, Zack.” Brendon smiled tiredly. “The girls really enjoyed themselves, I think.”
“I’m sure they did. They were practically asleep on their feet as they went up to their room.”
“Good. I’m sure they’re easier to keep up with when they’re like that.” He combed his fingers through his hair. “Zack, you wouldn’t happen to know where Spencer is, would you?”
“I believe he’s in the West parlour,” Zack said. “Good night, my lord.”
Brendon nodded. “Thank you, Zack. Good night.”
As Zack moved off to his own quarters, Brendon headed for the West parlour, the box he’d taken from the pile held close.
The double doors to the parlour were open, and Brendon smiled at the sight before him. Spencer was sitting with his back to him, apparently engrossed in a novel as he sipped at a glass of red wine. Brendon entered the room quietly, not really wanting to disturb the scene but excited to do so at the same time.
“Hey,” he said, voice soft as he settled himself on the armrest of Spencer’s chair.
Spencer looked up at him with a smile, shifting away automatically to make more room. “Welcome back.”
Brendon felt his heart skip a beat. He stayed still for a moment and then, in a fit of daring, leaned yet a little bit closer. “It’s good to be back.”
Spencer kept smiling. “How was the trip?”
“Exhausting, but fun. The girls gave me my own personal tour of everything worth seeing in the entire city.”
Spencer laughed, low and understanding, making Brendon feel suddenly warm. “The girls were very excited to show you everything before you left, so I can only imagine that excitement escalated once you got there.”
“By tenfold,” Brendon agreed. “I’m glad to be home.”
Spencer’s face softened at that, and his arm brushed against Brendon’s thigh, if only barely.
“I only wish you could have come with us,” Brendon continued. “I hated leaving you behind. Especially with nothing but estate affairs to entertain you. But I brought you something back.” He offered the box he was holding to Spencer. “Consider it an apology. Or a souvenir, perhaps.”
Spencer gave him a curious look before untying the ribbon around the box and lifting the lid, taking out a small, silver box decorated in delicate, silver-purple lilacs.
“It’s a Dream Box,” Brendon explained. “You put it by your bed, and it gives you sweet dreams. At least, that’s what the man at the shop said.”
Spencer smiled, setting the box in he lap. “Thank you.”
Brendon ducked his head, leaning in, forgetting himself for a moment. Spencer evaded him.
Brendon sighed. “I know, I know. Slow.”
Spencer watched him for a moment, clearly conflicted. Then he gently took Brendon’s face in his hands, bringing him down for a soft, chaste kiss.
Brendon shivered, his mouth tingling delightfully. He pressed his forehead to Spencer’s, closing his eyes and revelling in the moment.
It was definitely good to be back home.
Spencer twisted his hands, scolding himself inwardly for the nervous gesture but unable to stop and feeling that he had to look absolutely ridiculous to the servants passing him on their way to complete early morning chores. He was standing outside of his own husband’s door at an almost ungodly hour, looking like he was about to commit some sort of indecency-which was an extremely silly thing to worry about, since Brendon was, after all, Spencer’s husband.
He was being ridiculous. Spencer rounded his shoulders, took a deep breath and forced himself to knock. When Brendon didn’t come immediately, Spencer bit his lip. Should he knock again? He didn’t want to be an annoyance, and he’d certainly understand why someone would be annoyed at being roused so early.
Spencer fought back and forth with himself for a few more moments; he was about to turn and leave when the door swung open and Brendon suddenly stood right in front of him, still tying a robe around himself, his hair an utter mess. The little terrier, Bogart, had taken to sleeping in Brendon’s room and was now practically dancing around his feet.
“Spencer?” Brendon blinked blearily up at him, bending to scoop Bogart up into his arms. “Is everything all right?”
Spencer didn’t know how Brendon managed to look so attractive directly after tumbling out of bed, but he couldn’t deny that Brendon rubbing the sleep from his eyes and leaning against the door frame was incredibly endearing.
“I,” he stammered, wishing he’d taken the time to rehearse what he was about to say a bit more. “I was awake and. I was just thinking that I’ve been busier than usual attending to Summerlin or running after the girls.” Christ, he sounded like a nervous teenager. “And I was wondering if you’d care to join me on a morning ride.”
Brendon stepped back for a moment, squinting at the cuckoo clock he’d recently procured on a shopping excursion with Jackie and Crystal. “It’s barely past six.”
Too early. Of course it was too early. Spencer mentally kicked himself. “I understand,” he said. “This was a rather sudden request. I’m sorry I woke you.”
Brendon smiled sleepily at him. “If you’ll wait a few minutes, it won’t take me long to get dressed. I’ll meet you down in the dining hall?”
Spencer returned his smile, reminding himself to reign it in a bit. He didn’t want to look desperate and end up scaring Brendon away when there was something so important to show him. “Of course.”
Brendon nodded. “See you there.”
The door softly clicked as Brendon shut it, and Spencer automatically stifled the urge to open it again, just as he almost nightly stifled the urge to open the door that separated their rooms. If he was going to eventually win Brendon over, he reminded himself, he had to be a gentleman; that was how courting worked.
God, but it was hard to accomplish sometimes.
Regardless, he quickly quashed any thoughts that wanted to run in a more inappropriate direction and withdrew his riding gloves from his jacket’s pocket, pulling them on as he headed for the dining hall to wait.
It was only about ten minutes before Brendon came down the stairs, looping a leather bag over his shoulder and combing his fingers quickly through his hair. Bogart danced happily around his feet, his entire back-end wagging from side to side.
Spencer smiled. “Ready?”
Brendon nodded. “Mostly. I don’t have any gloves. Somehow, getting some never came up when Crystal and Jackie took me shopping last week. I don’t really mind calluses on my hands, though.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer’s brow furrowed. “I’m positive I can find you a pair somewhere around here, for now. We’ll have some made for you the next time the girls insist on a shopping adventure.”
Brendon laughed. “I’m fine, Spencer. Really. I’m more concerned with what horse I’m going to ride. The girls will kill me if I try for Annabelle or Misty, and I’ve only just made friends with Silverspoon, not to mention he’s your horse in the first place. I haven’t really got to know the other horses yet.”
Spencer bit his lip, trying to contain his excitement. “We’ll figure something out,” he said. “Come on, the sun is breaking over the horizon.”
When they got to the stables, Cash was finishing saddling Silverspoon, pushing up on the horse’s belly before buckling the strap. He smiled as they approached. “Good morning, my lords.”
“Good morning, Cash,” Spencer greeted. “Is he still holding his breath when you saddle him?”
Cash nodded, giving Silverspoon a slanted look. “He’s too smart for his own good, my lord. I’ve been trying to work with him on it, especially since you’ve been around the estate more often lately, but he just won’t be broken of the habit.”
“Hm.” Spencer took hold of Silverspoon’s reins and ran his hand down his nose. “Are you being terrible, Silverspoon? You’re really too old to be acting like a colt, now.”
Silverspoon nickered at him, nudging Spencer’s hand. “You’re hopeless, you stubborn thing.”
Brendon laughed. “At least he lets you touch him. He barely can stand my presence, even after all this time, not to mention the dozens of apples I’ve given him as peace offerings.”
“Ross Arabians are sneaky,” Spencer said with a smile. “They’ll take your peace offerings and double cross you without a second thought.” He fondly scratched the white mark between Silverspoon’s eyes. “Cash, is the other ready?”
Cash nodded. “Of course, my lord.” He disappeared into a stall at the end of the stables and reappeared a moment later leading a beautiful black horse by the reins, handing them over to Spencer.
“Oh, wow,” Brendon said, eyes wide. “Are you really going to let me ride him? Is he another one of Ryan’s?”
“He was, but Ryan said he was too high spirited for his particular tastes,” Spencer replied. “I assumed he’d be perfect for you.”
“You... You bought him for me?”
Spencer held out the reins to Brendon, his heart beating fast. “His name is Allegro.”
Brendon hesitated a moment before tentatively accepting the reins. “Hello, Allegro,” he almost whispered, voice slightly rough as he ran a hand down the horse’s neck. “How are you this morning?” He turned to Spencer and smiled, bright and impossibly wide. “Thank you.”
Spencer felt his cheeks flush. “I was hoping you’d like him.”
“Of course I do,” Brendon said, his voice soft and reverent. The horse looked at Brendon with bright, curious eyes, its ears pricked forward and its tail held high. It snorted at him then pawed at the ground. Brendon laughed, low and soft. “Are you getting restless, boy? Ready to try me out as a rider? Let’s go, then.”
They led their horses out of the stables and set off for the woods West of the manor. Allegro was definitely of high spirits, Spencer noted, dancing across the ground rather than walking and trying to throw his head up whenever something new crossed their path. Brendon seemed to be handling him well, however, giving the horse just enough rein to blow off some energy while keeping him steady, and Spencer soon stopped worrying and started to enjoy the ride, leading them through the woods at a quick trot. The horses relaxed into it more as well, and Spencer sat back deeper in the saddle, signalling Silverspoon to lengthen his gait and curve his neck, making the ride smooth and easy.
They rode for over an hour, Spencer taking the opportunity to show Brendon parts of the estate he hadn’t seen before and just spending time with him, talking about everything and nothing at all as they paused for a while by a stream and let the horses drink their fill. As breakfast time approached and was passed, they turned to go back, urging their horses into another fast trot.
As they broke out of the woods, they came to another stop, both of them smiling widely and breathing hard as they looked across the land spreading out before them. Spencer raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun, deliberating over where to go next to get home most quickly.
Brendon beat him to it.
“Race you across the field?”
Spencer nodded, excited, and answered Brendon’s grin before putting his heels to Silverspoon’s sides. He leaned forward in the saddle as they picked up speed, giving a little more rein and letting Silverspoon’s gait flatten out into a gallop. He could hear Brendon right behind him, gaining on them, coming up side by side as they jumped a hedge together and crossed into the next field.
“Bye, Spencer,” Brendon called over his shoulder as Allegro went impossibly faster, leaving Spencer and Silverspoon in the dust.
“It’s not over yet,” Spencer called back, with more bravado than he felt, because Brendon was almost at the creek, bound to get there first unless Silverspoon suddenly spurted wings, and-
The creek. Spencer’s heart seized up with sudden panic. As far as he knew, Brendon had never walked this particular path before. Which meant he wouldn’t know about the way the ground dropped after the last hedge, or about the deep ditch that ran right behind it, guiding water from creek to the fields nearby. If Brendon didn’t see it in time...
He called Brendon’s name, flattening himself against Silverspoon’s neck, begging him to run faster. Brendon and Allegro came up to the hedge, and Spencer saw the moment they realised what lay behind, heard Brendon cry out in surprise and distress as Allegro twisted his hind legs mid-jump, bucking to make the ditch and sending Brendon flying out of the saddle.
And then there was nothing.
“No!” Spencer forced himself to rein Silverspoon in, shortening his gait in preparation for the jump. They cleared the ditch easily, both of them knowing the terrain too well not to, and Spencer was out of the saddle almost before the horse had fully come to a halt.
“Brendon!”
Brendon was lying in the grass, looking broken and far too still. Spencer fell to his knees, leaning over him and pressing two fingers against Brendon’s neck, desperately checking for a sign that he was still alive. He almost choked in relief when he felt a faint pulse, quickly moving to turn Brendon onto his back, taking Brendon’s head in his lap to lift him up a little and make it easier for him to breathe.
Brendon slowly began to stir, letting out a pained moan that made Spencer’s chest clench up in fear all over again. The hand that wasn’t holding on to Brendon’s shoulder went to his face, and when Brendon blinked and opened his eyes, looking up at Spencer with a puzzled expression, Spencer was utterly lost. He bent his head, pulling Brendon closer and tilting his face up, taking his mouth in a desperate kiss, letting the fear give way to relief when Brendon moved further into his touch and kissed him back, just as fervently. Brendon’s hands went to Spencer’s jacket, moving uncertainly over the dark material on Spencer’s shoulders before growing bolder and finding their way to his waistcoat and shirt. Spencer responded in kind, all thoughts of propriety and boundaries forgotten as he kissed Brendon again, tangling both hands in his hair as Brendon rolled them over and came down on top of him.
Brendon’s lips travelled down the side of his face to his neck, hands stroking along the fabric of Spencer’s collar, pulling at it ineffectively to clear the way for those maddening kisses to move lower, making Spencer’s breath turn short and laboured in the process.
Brendon moved to a spot just beneath Spencer’s jaw, accidentally grazing it with his teeth, and Spencer found himself arching off the ground, head thrown back on a moan and dizzy with fear and adrenaline and the overwhelming pleasure of Brendon’s hands and mouth, warming him up from the inside until he was trashing on the ground, unable to decide what part to press closer to Brendon and defaulting to trying for everything at the same time. He pulled Brendon back up and took his mouth in another deep kiss, running his hands down Brendon’s back before shakily sliding them between their bodies and finding the buttons of Brendon’s waistcoat.
Brendon moaned into his mouth, pressing his body eagerly into Spencer’s hands. And then he suddenly froze, breaking the kiss and scrambling away, pulling at his dishevelled clothing.
“What-?” Spencer managed, mindlessly trying to follow as Brendon pulled back, his whole body aching to get him back on the ground.
“Someone’s coming,” Brendon replied, brushing grass off his trousers and trying to smooth his hair down. “Quick. Hurry.”
The words effectively cut through the fog in Spencer’s head, and true enough, there were the definite sounds of a horse and rider approaching, probably just down the path through the nearby woods and about to break into the clearing at any moment.
“Shit.”
Spencer’s hands automatically went to his shirt, trying to straighten any wrinkles and looking wildly around for his riding hat that he’d lost in his haste to get to Brendon’s side. Brendon scrambled for his own, putting it on his head and managing to get the top button on his waistcoat refastened just in time.
Crystal and Jackie burst into the clearing, looking scared and flushed from riding, Crystal holding the reins of Silverspoon tightly. In the chaos of everything that had happened, Spencer hadn’t even noticed he’d wandered off.
“Oh my God, are you all right?” Crystal exclaimed.
“We were just on the other side of the woods, and Silverspoon came through.”
“Alone.”
“What happened?”
“Did you take a fall?”
“Are you okay?”
“Did you break anything?”
“We’re fine,” Brendon said, giving the girls a smile and starting to look around the clearing for his own horse. “Spencer didn’t fall, I did. I took a jump wrong, that’s all. Silly of me. We were racing and I didn’t look ahead.”
“You were racing?” Crystal asked, astonished. “Spencer never lets us race!”
Spencer gave her a look. “Brendon just fell off his horse. I’d think you’d have more manners than to debate that sort of thing right now.”
Crystal bit her lip and looked down, cheeks blushing.
“No, no, really,” Brendon insisted again. “I’m perfectly fine. Just a couple of scrapes here and there. Maybe we should get back to the house, though, so I can take care of them.”
Spencer nodded. “Of course. Do you think you can ride, or..?”
Brendon smiled. “I’m scratched and bruised, not crippled.” He moved towards Allegro, who was grazing happily behind a group of trees. The slow, jerking movements he made told Spencer that he was in pain, but Brendon still managed to haul himself back up on his horse, wincing as he brought his leg up and over.
Spencer bit his lip, unsure whether or not he should let Brendon continue back to the house on Allegro in his condition, but the horse seemed fairly calm for just having thrown his rider, and Brendon didn’t seem to be in incredible pain when Allegro followed his lead, slowly walking back toward Summerlin.
Spencer quickly mounted Silverspoon and signalled to him to follow Brendon. “Come on, girls.”
Jackie and Crystal fell into a slow pace behind them, and Spencer rode up beside Brendon, careful not to spook Allegro a second time.
Getting to Summerlin took longer than anticipated, and it was almost lunch time before they were back at the house, horses safely in the stables with Ian.
Greta started fussing over Brendon the moment she saw him, her face growing alarmed as the girls explained what had happened. She pulled him into the front parlour and instructed him to sit and wait as she went and retrieved bandages and alcohol.
Spencer watched sullenly as she cleaned him up, chiding him like a child and shooing the girls away to give him a chance to breathe. When she was finally done bandaging his few scrapes, she smiled and told him to get some rest before excusing herself, leaving Spencer and Brendon alone at last.
There was a moment when Spencer wasn’t sure what he should say, if he should even say anything at all about what happened between them. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d taken advantage of Brendon somehow; he’d looked so vulnerable, and Spencer had been so frightened at the prospect of him being seriously hurt or worse. And then he wasn’t, and-
“I-” Spencer started, at the same time as Brendon said, “Spencer-”
Brendon smiled. “You first.”
Spencer pushed down the impulse of closing the distance and pressing his lips to Brendon’s smile. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologise for earlier,” he said, looking away. “I was... afraid and let an impulse take me over. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He kept his eyes down, turning towards the window and proceeding to stare out at the grounds as the silence grew between them.
“Spencer.”
Spencer steeled himself and turned around. Brendon took a step closer, then hesitated, confusion and something uncertain flickering across his face.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer repeated, looking away again and wishing they could just go back to doing what they had this morning, with the jokes and easy camaraderie instead of the thick tension between them now.
“No need to apologise,” Brendon said, taking a step back. “Everything is fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Spencer watched him leave with a heavy feeling in his stomach, repressing the sudden urge to go after Brendon and ask him to stay, to tell him how he could barely work anymore because all he could think about was getting out of his office and trying to make Brendon smile.
God, Spencer was so bad at this whole courting thing.
There was a knock at the door only moments later, and Spencer’s head immediately snapped towards the sound, heart beating fast in his chest at the thought of Brendon coming back. “Come in.”
He barely managed to conceal his disappointment when a messenger stepped into the room, bowing quickly and handing over an official-looking letter. Spencer thanked him and turned the letter over to look at the seal. It bore the royal stamp. Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“I will need to bring a reply back directly, my lord,” the messenger said. “His Majesty was most insistent.”
Spencer nodded. “I will have one drawn up in an hour or so. Please ask one of the servants to direct you to the kitchens in the meantime.”
The messenger bowed his acceptance and left, leaving Spencer alone with the letter in his hand. He walked over to his desk and sat down, breaking the seal and smoothing out the rich parchment. The note was brief and to the point, and Spencer could actually feel himself pale as he read it a second time, wishing rather than believing that he was mistaken in its meaning.
After the third time, there was no avoiding it. Spencer folded up the letter with unsteady hands and left the room to find his husband.
Their marriage had been contested. Spencer and Brendon were summoned to court.
“A what?”
“A summons from the king,” Spencer said, pacing in front of the windows in a way that was starting to make Brendon nervous. “Our marriage has been contested.”
“But why?” Brendon said, an uneasy feeling starting to spread in his gut. “And by whom? Who could possibly have grounds for such a thing?”
“Oh, I can think of a few people,” Spencer said, sounding agitated. “Your parents, for example. You married without their consent.”
“I’m of age,” Brendon replied. “And they were absolutely delighted, look.” He briskly walked over to his desk, searching in the top drawer for the letter he had received from his father shortly after they arrived at Summerlin. “My father congratulates me on my most fortunate match and lets us know that he’ll be of assistance to my lord and husband in whichever way he can. They wanted me to marry a noble, Spencer. And you’re far beyond their wildest expectations. It couldn’t be them.”
“The man they contracted you to then,” Spencer said. “Lord Saporta isn’t known to simply accept it when things don’t go his way.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Brendon conceded. “But I never signed the engagement papers. He doesn’t have a valid claim.”
Spencer kept pacing, muttering about how formalities weren’t something that would keep Lord Saporta from trying to get something he wanted. Then he suddenly stopped short.
“Fuck.”
“What?” Brendon said, hearing his voice crack a little. “Spencer, what is it?”
“I’m-” Spencer started, eyes wide. “We didn’t marry in the proper context. It wasn’t witnessed correctly.”
“Because Mikey was mostly asleep?” Brendon asked. “How would anyone even know that? I’m sure Gerard and Frank would testify that-”
“It’s not that,” Spencer interrupted him. “The Marquess of Summerlin must be married in presence of the king or queen. His future spouse must be approved beforehand; it’s a meaningless, tradition-driven decree that goes back to the time my family received the title. God, I can’t believe I forgot!”
“There was no time,” Brendon insisted, stepping close and grabbing Spencer’s left arm to keep him from pacing. “I was about to leave. You saved me. If you hadn’t, I’d probably been somewhere in the colonies right now, trying my hand at hunting buffaloes or joining up with a native tribe. Surely, the king will understand.”
Spencer looked away, and Brendon got the same feeling as he’d had earlier when they came back from the woods, like Spencer was pulling away, unwilling to be too close to Brendon’s person.
Brendon let go of his arm and stepped back.
“We should start packing,” Spencer said. “Take your most expensive things. We need to show ourselves from our best side. I’ll alert the servants that we’re leaving. Someone should be up shortly to help.”
“Spencer,” Brendon tried, reaching out and catching Spencer’s hand to keep him from leaving. A million questions were suddenly swirling in his mind, mixed with a fear that grew steadily stronger. “Spencer, wait.”
“I have to go,” Spencer told him, face softening when he met Brendon’s eyes. “I need to send a messenger to Rosings, ask Ryan to borrow some things. Court this time of year is an endless parade of parties and balls, and there is no time to have you fitted for those kinds of clothes. Whatever Ryan can spare will have to do for now.”
“But-” Brendon tried again, suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect of being at court in the capacity of a titled nobleman of high standing. Of being expected to join in the festivities instead of just watching politely from the sidelines. His head began to spin.
“I’ll send someone up right away,” Spencer promised, bringing Brendon’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner, and then we leave tomorrow at first light.”
He walked out with a rueful look thrown over his shoulder at Brendon, and Brendon numbly walked over to his bed, slumping down on it and looking blankly out the window.