Subterfuge and Gambling Debts
| Rating: | 18 |
| Story Type: | Short Story |
| Past Life: | 17th Century |
| Notes: | Beta: Many, many thanks to Saladscream! She did a terrific job! *Hugs and kisses her* All remaining mistakes are mine. Author’s notes: This story was written for the “Past Lives” challenge on Pepe’s Place. |
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London, 1808
The air in the green salon was thick with the cold smoke of cigarillos. There were pretty baubles and sparkling glasses everywhere, but unfortunately that wasn’t enough to hold Colonel Jack O’Neill’s interest. He was utterly bored. He regarded the steadily growing pile of coins in front of him and came to the conclusion that he shouldn’t have followed Major Davis’ advice to attend to this private gambling party. The discussions were more than superficial because all of the other gamblers’ attention was captivated by the cards – not that it had done them any good, to tell the truth. It hadn’t taken much of an effort for O’Neill to win most of the rounds so far. These greenhorns weren’t really a challenge for him. One more game and then he’d be done for the evening, Jack swore to himself. ---------------------------------- Doctor Daniel Jackson sighed deeply. He was still at Sandlington Place, correcting the Latin translation of his eldest pupil, and it was… horrible. No finesse at all, no measurable progress compared to the last time. Master Richard was only interested in horses, and it regrettably showed in his homework. Staring into space Daniel thought about the beauty of the Latin syntax and how the Sandlington heir had mistreated it. He dipped his quill into the inkpot and marked the next mistake. Not for the first time, he wished his parents hadn’t left him an orphan when he was still a child. His grandfather, his only living relative, wasn’t interested in him and only bestowed upon him a monthly allowance. Not enough to live upon decently, especially when you had such an expensive taste in books.
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Therefore, Daniel had accepted Lord Sandlinton’s offer to teach to his children - four young men, aged between twelve and fifteen - who were only interested in horses, the army and the ongoing war against Napoleon. Daniel had tried in vain to make them understand that it also came in handy for a future war-hero to know about Caesar and the way he fought his battles. They had pointed out to him that they could read about tactics in good old English, too.
Daniel crossed out the next word; he was putting a big question mark in the margin of the paper, when he heard a knock at the door of his study.
“Enter, please,” he called.
One of the young maid servants, Lucy, curtseyed and announced, “Doctor Jackson, there is a young lady outside who wants to speak to you – urgently.”
“A young lady?” Daniel consulted his silver pocketwatch. It was already half past ten; a very strange time to make a call, especially here, at his employer.
“The young `lady´,” the maid pronounced the word as if she didn’t believe the person in question was worthy of the title, “claims to be your cousin.”
“Samantha?” Daniel stopped hastily pulling his coat over his waistcoat, and told her, relief obvious in his voice, “Oh, please, tell her to come in.”
Lucy retreated to usher the visitor, and Daniel wondered what it was going to be this time. Sam had developed a habit of turning to him for help and guidance when faced with difficult questions and embarrassing predicaments.
“Daniel!” With an anguished cry and in a cloud of light green muslin, Samantha stormed into the room and threw herself in Daniel’s arms. “You have to help me!”
Daniel saw the very curious looks the maid was giving them for this un-ladylike behaviour, and gently but decorously held Samantha at arm’s length. He addressed the maid, “Thank you very much, Lucy. This is indeed my cousin. Would you please grant us some privacy? But, please, leave the door to my study open.” He wouldn’t endanger Samantha’s reputation any further. It was already bad enough that she had come to visit him without a maid or a footman at this time of night.
“Sam. How often have I told you not to come unaccompanied?” he admonished her. “Pray, tell me, now. What is it this time?”
She cast him a very sad glance. “My impossible brother.”
“I thought so. Here, have a seat.” Daniel pulled a chair for Samantha and took one opposite her.
But Samantha was too agitated to sit down. She paced restlessly in front of Daniel, mistreating the yellow ribbons of her hat. She complained loudly, “This time, he has completely lost his mind!”
“Please, Sam. Calm down. Tell me what happened.”
Finally, she lowered herself in the chair and began, “Today, Marc held once again one of his infamous gambling parties. And once again, he lost. That’s nothing new for him, I know. But today he went so far as to sign IOUs!”
“No!” How often had they tried to explain to him that he couldn’t endanger their only source of income?
“Yes. And he lost a very considerable sum to a certain Colonel Jack O’Neill. You met him during the Cotillion at Almack’s last week.”
“I remember.” How couldn’t he? Colonel O’Neill wasn’t the kind of man one was likely to forget – especially not Daniel. Like him, Colonel O’Neill hadn’t been interested in dancing or wooing, and after being introduced to one another by Samantha and bonding over their common distaste for this kind of party, they had discussed this and that, and they had retreated to one of the balconies for more than an hour. The colonel had related to him - on Daniel’s insistent prodding - countless stories about countless countries that Daniel only knew from books. The colonel had filled his abstract knowledge with bright colours and very witty scenes. Daniel had been fascinated. And had… plagued him anew, when the met again, four days later, during a horserace.
“O’Neill accepted the IOUs but Marc wouldn’t stop. He was convinced he could gain back everything. When I served them something to drink, Marc suddenly seized my wrist, pulled me to him and proposed a last round to O’Neill. He would wager me against everything that was on the table.” She looked down, utterly mortified, and rubbed her eyes.
“Not even Marc would….” Daniel frowned.
“He was drunk and he is sick, Daniel. When he’s gambling, nothing else counts. He loses his sense of propriety and his sense of reality entirely. But it has never been as bad as today, because O’Neill was teasing him mercilessly all the time.”
“I assume the colonel accepted the challenge?” Daniel asked tightly.
“He did and he won. That’s why I’m here, Daniel. You must help me. I won’t marry him! I’m in love with Peter and you know that!” Sam seized Daniel’s hands and pressed them hard to better convey the importance of her statement.
Daniel coughed slightly and nervously. “Ehm… Sam… you’re sure – I mean… I’m sorry I have to be this blunt – but are you sure we are speaking marriage here?”
Her astonished eyes met his and understanding finally dawned. “Oh Heavens, no! No one would be so vile as to…”
He nodded gravely.
“Then it’s even worse. I have no other choice. I have to leave my brother, Daniel. God knows what he’ll do next.” She mulled over it for a few seconds then she straightened in her seat and announced, “I have a plan.”
“I won’t like it, right?” Daniel asked rhetorically, when he saw her very determined look.
“It’s my only chance. I’ll elope with Peter to Scotland. We’ll go to Gretna Green, to get married, and Marc won’t be able to do anything against it. Once I’m married, I’ll be safe.”
“No, Samantha!” Daniel was shocked. “You can’t do that. Think about the dreadful consequences of your plan.” He tried to make her see his point. “Society will point a finger at you! And your reputation…”
She interrupted him by stomping her feet on the ground, “I don’t care about propriety! My own brother is selling me to a stranger to pay off his gambling debts! So, please tell me why I should care about the `glorious´ name of the Carters!” Her last outburst was full of sarcasm.
The sad truth in this statement silenced Daniel. Tonight, Marc had indeed lost any sort of credibility with his sister. Perhaps an elopement with the Squire was the lesser evil? A decision between Scylla and Charybdis…
“Daniel!” Samantha’s eyes were begging him even as her tone was demanding.
Daniel gave in. “But Marc will be after you…” He warned her. “And on horseback, he’s faster than your carriage.”
“That’s where you come into it,” she informed him. “Marc will think I’m with Colonel O’Neill. He won’t suspect anything until it’s too late. But, of course, someone has to be in O’Neill’s coach and distract the man for a while so he won’t alert Marc immediately – and that `someone´ will be you.”
This part didn’t really meet with Daniel’s approval. “Me? Sam, I can’t…” Daniel was in a dilemma. He didn’t want to endanger his growing friendship with O’Neill, but on the other hand he couldn’t permit Samantha’s reputation and maidenhood to be sullied by her accompanying the colonel to his house.
“Daniel, dearest, we don’t have much time.” She tried once again her imploring eyes on him. “I’m desperate and my plan is perfect. You only have to play `me´ for about an hour, then you’ll reveal your true identity. The colonel will be mad at first, but what can he do? You’re a man, so it’s not like he can marry you or force himself on you,” Samantha explained with growing enthusiasm. She sprang to her feet and offered her hand to him.
Daniel looked doubtful but unfortunately he’d always had a hard time denying her anything. She was like a sister to him. She had made his early years, when he had been growing up as an orphan in her family, that much easier and sweeter – definitely worth living. He was indebted to her.
With a deep sigh, he took her hand and agreed. “It’s a terrible plan, but I don’t have a better one. However, I won’t dress up as a woman; a cape with a hood will have to be enough.”
He offered her a paper and a quill, and told her, “Here, write a short note to Peter and tell him to prepare everything.”
He called a lackey, gave him a coin and ordered him to deliver the note immediately to Squire Peter Shanahan. He then informed the butler that he would escort Miss Carter home, and that he would only come back the next day.
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Five minutes later, they left Sandlington Place together. It was only a short walk to the town house of the Carters. They sneaked into the house by the servants’ entrance and heard Marc and O’Neill engaged in a loud discussion in the gambling room.
“Wait here, Daniel. I’ll fetch you the cape.” Samantha disappeared and Daniel had a few minutes to think about what he had gotten himself into. Of course, his virtue was safe with Colonel O’Neill, but he was pretty sure the man had a keen sense of honour and was not to be trifled with. He feared the officer might be tempted to demand satisfaction and challenge him in a duel for this deception. Daniel’s only hope was that he could convince him that it was inappropriate and unfair for a seasoned colonel to challenge a mere tutor. He pushed back his glasses up his nose.
Peter Shanahan vs. Jack O’Neill. Daniel couldn’t understand why anyone would prefer the rather dull Squire to the fascinating colonel but Samantha had once explained to him that Peter meant security, reliability and… home for her. Something she had bitterly missed during the last few years with her brother, ever since General Carter hadn’t returned from a mission to India. Marc had been too stubborn to give his consent to this marriage, all the time hoping to secure a much richer husband for his sister. It served him well that Samantha now took her destiny in her own hands.
Sam and her chambermaid, Mary, came silently down the stairs, with Mary carrying a tall hatbox. Daniel grinned – his cousin was as practical as ever and had even thought of taking a chaperone and a change of toilette for her elopement.
Samantha handed him a long, royal-blue cape. “Thanks, Daniel. Thank you so much for everything. I’ll let you know as soon as possible if everything turned out well. Hopefully, in three days I’ll be Mrs. Shanahan.”
“Take good care of yourself, Sam.” He embraced her, hoping they were doing the right thing.
She gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “You too. Be cautious with the colonel. I couldn’t stand it, if something happened to you because of my brother’s despicable foolishness.”
“Ill be fine, Sam. Don’t worry.” He pulled the cape around himself.
Mary accompanied him to O’Neill’s coach and told the coachman that Miss Carter didn’t feel too well and would already get inside the vehicle. Mary helped Daniel cover his face with the hood and arrange the folds of the cape so that his slightly taller and bulkier form was veiled as best as possible. “Good luck, Sir.”
“Good luck, Mary.”
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Ten minutes later, the door was opened forcefully and Colonel O’Neill climbed into the carriage. Before closing it, he called impatiently to the coachman, “Let’s go!” Then he slammed the door shut and threw himself on the bench opposite Daniel.
There was no doubt that the colonel was very angry. His foot was tapping nervously and his fingers fidgeted with the large buttons on his coat. His stern face with the tight lips was now and then illuminated by the faint light coming through the windows, painting strange reflections on his brown-grey hair. Daniel didn’t dare observe him too openly but was amazed and awed by the barely contained anger and passion he could feel radiating from the man.
The colonel kept his oppressive silence for nearly ten minutes before he burst out, “Idiot!”
Daniel was startled from his reverie and flinched.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, Miss Carter. I was referring to your brother. Do you know he kind of sold you to me?!” His voice was full of indignation. “The rash, inebriated fool! But I’m not playing his game. I’m taking you to my mother, and when he’s sober again, we’ll have another talk. Therefore, I pray, don’t be too anxious; nothing will happen to you.”
His mother!? For one second Daniel was immensely relieved to hear that it had never been O’Neill’s plan to approach Samantha in anything other than an honourable way. But then the nasty consequences dawned on him; the colonel intended to present him to his mother! Daniel wasn’t too keen on explaining to an old lady, why he masqueraded as his cousin Samantha and deceived her only son. If he remembered correctly, Mrs. O’Neill was also referred to as the “Iron General” – and she hadn’t earned this title for nothing. He shifted about uneasily on his seat, but knew that he had to buy Samantha as much time as possible. He frantically searched his brain for a solution – but still hadn’t found one when the coach stopped twenty minutes later.
“Here we are,” O’Neill announced.
Daniel could feel his pulse beating in his throat. He gathered his courage and pulled back the hood of his cape. The first words he uttered were, “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.” He fixed O’Neill nervously and nibbled on his lower lip. At this precise moment, their plan sounded utterly, miserably silly to him.
O’Neill frowned. “Doctor Jackson?” What kind of tomfoolery was that?
“I’m Samantha’s cousin,” Daniel explained somewhat superfluously, more to fill the pause.
“I know.” The colonel rolled his eyes. “She introduced us, remember? But why…?”
He was interrupted because the door was pulled open and one of the lackeys offered him his arm. O’Neill threw a glance in Jackson’s direction. He had to admit that Daniel looked gorgeous in the blue, flowing silk that emphasized the colour of his eyes. Besides, this was a welcome change from the dull evening he had had so far and he figured he might as well savour it a bit longer. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said. “We’re going to my place. Inform the coach-driver.”
The lackey bowed and disappeared. When the carriage was en route again, O’Neill asked coldly, “Why are you here? And where is Miss Carter?”
“My cousin is on her way to Gretna Green to marry Squire Shanahan and I’m here to… buy her some time,” Daniel answered truthfully. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly.
Oh God, he really covered up for his cousin! Marc Carter would be pissed when he learned about that! O’Neill gave him a scrutinizing look.
Daniel shivered and prepared himself for whatever the colonel had in mind, but the older man only said, “We’ll talk about this later; with a brandy to give us… moral strength.” He smirked, and for one second Daniel saw a dangerous glint in the colonel’s eye. O’Neill then leaned back lazily into the corner of his seat, put his feet on Daniel’s bench and closed his eyes for the rest of the ride.
Daniel Jackson instead of Samantha Carter – what an agreeable surprise! Dr. Jackson had been the only person with whom he had had a decent conversation in the last weeks. Upon returning from the Peninsula three month ago, he had come to realize that the good society of London was only interested in a very… picturesque description of the war. They all wanted to hear of piquant anecdotes, witty non-sequiturs and famous cannonades – and no one cared if any of it was actually true. Nobody was interested in facts or numbers or death rates. Only Jackson had asked him about the war in Spain and not about the new hero, Wellington.
However, the two cousins had played a trick on him, had used him and hadn’t hesitated to risk making him a laughingstock. Not only was Marc Carter a canaille, ready to sacrifice his own sister to his gambling addiction, but now it seemed Samantha and her cousin were also cast in the same mould.
Jack gulped down his anger; he couldn’t really find fault with them for trying to protect Samantha from the folly of her brother, but his thirst for revenge remained. He had been slighted, and they had surmised he was actually capable of playing along with Carter’s revolting scheme. The least he could do was frighten the young man. Teach him a lesson. He didn’t want to kill him, therefore he cast aside the idea of a duel. The young scholar didn’t look like much of an expert with swords or pistols.
And it would be much more entertaining to play with his fear.
He didn’t exactly know what he was going to do, but whatever he decided on, he couldn’t do it here, in the carriage. He had to take Jackson home with him and then play it by the ear. He didn’t know the young man too well but he had been fascinated by his curiosity, his passion and his genuine interest in nearly everything he had told him. Jack was ready to use this to his advantage and manoeuvre him into an embarrassing situation.
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When they arrived at O’Neill’s town house, the colonel sent his butler, who had waited for him, to bed, and accompanied his guest himself to his library. He poured him a glass of brandy, rekindled the fire, prayed Daniel to sit on the sofa, and for a moment, watched the young man in silence.
Daniel didn’t notice it. He was trying to take in all the books in this wonderful library at once, then soon concentrating on those nearest, on which he could read the titles.
He was interrupted by O’Neill. “So, whose idea was it?” he asked without emotion.
“Umm…” Daniel hesitated and took another sip of his brandy.
“Not yours then, I guess. But you were ready to help her.”
“She’s my cousin! And you don’t sell away people, much less your own flesh and blood, to pay gambling debts!” Daniel exclaimed ardently.
“No, you don’t.” O’Neill turned the glass in his hand until the brandy was swinging from side to side. “But unfortunately, it’s an accepted form of payment. She isn’t the first woman a father or a brother gambled away. Therefore I can only wonder if you are my payment?”
“Excuse me?”
“I left the IOUs on the table because I thought I’d get Miss Carter in exchange. It seems I’ve got you instead.” He shrugged his shoulders and grinned mischievously.
Daniel was dumbfounded. What was O’Neill hinting at? He cleared his throat and forced himself to look into the mocking eyes. “I can’t pay you for my cousin’s losses. You have to address yourself to him. I can only repeat that I’m sorry we deceived you and pulled you into this family affair.”
“So if you don’t have enough money to compensate Carter’s debts, we have to take into consideration other possibilities of payment,” O’Neill stated with studied nonchalance as he loosened his artfully arranged neck cloth.
Daniel’s gaze was inexorably drawn to those long, slender fingers. Resolutely, he tore his eyes away and proposed hesitantly, “I… I could teach you languages. Spanish, French, Latin, or… Italian…” He trailed off, when he saw that O’Neill’s grin got even wider and sultrier.
`A duel then´, Daniel thought with sinking courage. The harmless subterfuge suddenly turned out to be very dangerous indeed. Daniel wasn’t well versed in the complicated rules of duelling but he assumed that O’Neill, as the offended party, had the choice of arms and lieu. Daniel carefully put down his glass on the little table beside him and stated with a firm voice, “I’ll send for my second tomorrow morning, unless you insist that I summon him still tonight. What is your choice then, swords or pistols?”
Colonel O’Neill saw that Daniel’s breath had quickened and that colour was rising to his cheeks. His whole posture cried of uneasiness; one hand was clenched into a tight fist, the other one kneading absentmindedly the stem of the glass. He was sitting on the brink of the sofa, seemingly ready to jump at any minute. But there was also a look of great determination in his features and Jack had to admire the keen sense of honour which had placed the otherwise soft-spoken tutor in this embarrassing situation in the first place. That was always a trait he valued in men. And he had to admit that the young man was full of courage. It must be obvious to him that he didn’t stand the slightest chance against someone as experienced as Jack was. Yet, his voice hadn’t quivered when he had asked about the weapons. Daniel Jackson was really a puzzle he’d like to solve, but first he still had a bone to pick with him. To prolong the torture for Daniel – a little bit of revenge was called for, after all – Jack asked, “What do you prefer?”
`In which case are my chances of survival greater?´ Daniel wondered bitterly. He finally answered, “Swords”. If the duel was to first blood, and with the right tactics, he might manoeuvre O’Neill into wounding him, but not killing him. If he was fortunate, the duel would be over before he was dead. “Perhaps you could aim for my left arm as I need the right one for writing?” Daniel added hopefully.
O’Neill erupted into a loud fit of laughter. Daniel Jackson really was the most entertaining man he had met in a long time. “I daresay, you are the most impossible and disrespectful opponent I ever had,” he laughed.
“It’s not impertinence, I assure you! But you know how I earn my living,” Daniel tried to explain.
“Yes, I know, by tutoring other people’s ungrateful brats.”
Daniel gave him a tentative smile. “In a manner of speaking.”
“So, what do I do with you now?” As he uttered the ambiguous words, his traitorous brain immediately provided him with a very interesting proposition. For a minute there, Jack thought about blackmailing Daniel into granting him sexual favours. Surely, the cousins would have expected him to do so, if he had collected Samantha instead of Daniel. Just the thought of divesting Daniel of his carelessly tied neck cloth or of letting his hands rake through the light brown hair made his fingers twitch eagerly. But then he cast aside the idea because he couldn’t imagine forcing himself on an unwilling partner.
Daniel was at a loss to reply to O’Neill’s question, until he spotted something on the bookshelves that captured his whole attention and tickled his curiosity. “Well, maybe you could show me this book about Ancient Egypt?” he boldly proposed, pointing at the gold-filigreed leather spine of the tome.
“I’ve got a book about Egypt?” Jack teased him. “Go ahead. Leaf through it while I get us another brandy.”
He returned with the refilled glasses, set Daniel’s down on the little table and stood behind the younger man to peer at the book over his shoulder.
“They have strange burial rites,” he remarked as Daniel regarded a page with an engraving of a mummy and a priest sealing the inner organs in a canopy jar.
“It’s absolutely fascinating,” Daniel answered. “I once assisted to the opening of a sarcophagus that Lord Alverly had brought back from Egypt with him. During that soirée they even unwrapped the mummy. It is now in the British Museum.” He continued to flip avidly through the book. “I love strange things.”
Jack couldn’t contradict him. Everything he had learned so far about Daniel pointed into this direction, and it was what made the young man so attractive for him. From where he was standing, Jack could see the soft skin of a neck he fervently longed to touch, all of a sudden. This scholar was so different from all the hard, often cynical soldiers he had spent the last few years with. He knew that Daniel was already thirty three years old, but he had an aura of innocence that fascinated and touched Jack. And today, in the carriage, he had finally admitted to himself for the first time that Daniel was also a damned handsome man who stirred long forgotten feelings in him. If he was ever going to find out what Daniel thought about love between men, tonight presented the best opportunity. If the younger man was totally repulsed by the idea, he could always blame it on a twisted sense of humour and his thirst for revenge.
When Daniel finally closed the book, Jack resolutely put down his brandy. “Come, if you like strange ancient rituals, I’ll show you another book you might be interested in,” he invited with an enigmatic smile.
He went to a door that opened directly into his dressing room. While crossing the room, Daniel asked, “Where are we going?”
“To my bedroom,” Jack answered and was pleased to see that Daniel followed him nonetheless.
“Please, sit down.” Jack gestured to the bed while he started rummaging through his ebony desk.
Daniel sat down on the four poster bed and looked around. Masculine elegance was the first words that sprang to his mind. Dark wood, crisp white linen, a few paintings of foreign landscapes on the wall; and everything was very tidy, in an almost military fashion. Daniel was relieved the colonel had apparently forgotten about the duel and the IOUs – at least for the time being. He hoped that the better the colonel got to know him, the harder it would be for him to hurt him or even kill him.
Jack’s thoughts were far from homicidal though. They were already in realms of which Daniel was still ignorant and would perhaps never want to know about. But Jack was now determined to try his luck. Very well hidden in a secret compartment of his desk was the book he was searching for. Having retrieved it, he hesitated a few seconds, considering his options, then made up his mind and sat down beside Daniel. He gave him the book. “More… strange things,” he warned, watching closely for the younger man’s reaction.
Daniel took the book. As there was no title, he was expecting the usual assortment of oddities. Instead, he saw reproductions from Greek vases, celebrating the love between two men. Roman frescos of young heroes, gambling, racing, wrestling and making love to each other. There were paintings of all styles and ages, from naïve Middle Ages, to delicate Renaissance, to playful rococo, to even recent copperplate engravings – all of them showing men in love, in a more or less detailed way.
Daniel was stunned, speechless. How come he didn’t know books like that existed? Here were whole paged filled with pictures of the very acts he had so often thought about for years. He shook his head imperceptibly and gazed at two young men kissing. Involuntarily, he moistened his lips. On closer inspection he saw that their hands were placed tenderly on each other’s neck and cheeks, caressing. The small oil-painting spoke of so much care and love that it made him nearly envious. Sighing, he admitted to himself that he’d also love to trace Jack’s handsome features with his fingertips, explore those inviting lips with his tongue.
He turned the page and was rewarded with Zeus fondling Ganymede intimately. Very intimately. There wasn’t much left to his imagination. Daniel felt shivers skittering down his spine and warmth flooding his belly when he thought about someone – preferably Jack O’Neill… no, only Jack O’Neill – touching him like that. What would it be like to feel those long, slender fingers that were currently rubbing at an imaginary stain on O’Neill’s sleeve, on his skin? How would his body respond? Daniel longed to be touched, to be held, and if the mere thought of it already quickened his breathing…
Reluctantly, he forced himself back to reality. What was O’Neill trying to achieve by showing him this? He didn’t know what to make of it. Was this an extremely subtle way of exerting revenge? If there was only the slightest rumour that Daniel was interested in men, he would fall in disgrace with Lord Sandlington, and he would likely never be able to teach again.
“What do you think?” Jack interrupted his thoughts. Daniel hadn’t closed the book at first glance, but regarded the pictures with interest. That was good, wasn’t it?
“I think… I think now I know why you don’t keep the book openly in your library,” Daniel answered cautiously.
“That’s all?” Jack was disappointed with this vague reply and he couldn’t read Daniel’s body language very well. Sure, he could see there was colour in his cheeks and that he was fidgeting nervously, but Jack couldn’t decide if it was because of the rarity of the valuable book or because of its actual content.
Daniel was extremely aware of the brush of clothes where their knees met, of the heat between their bodies, of Jack’s breathing, of Jack’s scent, of his own response to all, of his own overwhelming desire. But what if he was wrong? What if this was a very cruel form of payback for his subterfuge?
When Jack laid his hand on his arm, he raised his head.
Jack hoped it was the same hunger as his own that he saw in Daniel’s look when their eyes met. And with uncharacteristic insight and eloquence, he murmured, “This isn’t blackmail, and this isn’t revenge.”
“Is it …payment?” Daniel whispered.
“Only if you need an excuse.”
Daniel felt a burden lifted from his shoulders. A small smile began to light up his face. “No, I don’t need one,” he replied honestly.
He laid his hand over Jack’s fingers, touching him for the first time. His eyes never left Jack’s when he moved his hand slowly up and down, outlining, caressing and at last entwining their fingers. He could see the longing and the growing arousal he felt himself clearly reflected in Jack’s darkening eyes. Time to make his daydreams come true.
Daniel placed the book carefully on the floor and when he straightened, Jack pulled him fervently into his arms. Their lips met and it wasn’t awkward or gauche or strange at all. It was every bit as wonderful as all the romances and love poems had described it to Daniel. Only much more intimate, much more overwhelming. A tingling rushed through Daniel’s body, bringing to the surface years of bottled up longing, making his heart overflow. He tried to free Jack from his coat because he wanted to feel more of him, savour the warmth of the skin. But the latest fashion in clothes wrecked his plan; Jack’s coat was so tight fitting, it didn’t yield an inch.
Frustrated, Daniel ended the kiss. “Your coat,” he complained impatiently, tugging again at the cumbersome garment.
“Take off yours!” Jack ordered and got up from the bed. He didn’t only divest himself of his coat but also of his striped waist-coat. At the same time, Daniel struggled free from his outer clothing. Seeing that Jack pulled at his neck cloth, he made a step forward. “Let me do it,” he said, smiling endearingly. “I’ve been admiring your neck cloth for the whole evening. Is it tied in Beau Brummel’s style?”
“The Beau would kill you if he knew you compared this poor piece of workmanship to one of his oeuvres d’art,” Jack corrected him with a grin. But he presented his neck so that Daniel could fumble with the elaborately knotted neckwear.
Daniel loosened it and let it fall onto the bed. “May I?” he asked before he pulled aside Jack’s shirt. He wasn’t sure what was considered proper behaviour under these unusual circumstances. All he had was literary experience and bookish knowledge – and novels generally ended right after the door of the bedroom closed.
“You may do whatever you like,” Jack assured him and pulled impatiently on the sleeves of Daniel’s shirt. Finally he was able to lay his fingers on the naked, hairless chest, stroking and gliding down until he reached the belly-button. On the way back, he flicked at a nipple and Daniel whimpered.
Daniel was burning up from the inside. This was nearly too much for his body. Sensations and taunting promises besieged him from all sides, making him dizzy. A few moments ago he had feared of having to duel with the colonel and now their tongues were fighting for supremacy. In the meantime, Daniel had come to the conclusion that even if this was only revenge, he didn’t want to miss on it. Besides, he was sure that it was more than that because Jack’s tenderness wasn’t feigned and the admiration he could read in Jack’s eyes wasn’t a deception.
When Jack pushed him back onto the bed, he went willingly. Jack got down on his knees in front of him to pull off his shoes and to roll down his stockings, all the while teasing him. Daniel thought that so far nobody had done anything similar to him.
Jack almost shared the same thoughts as he was loosening the silk string at the knee and opening the four covered buttons. Astonished, he informed Daniel, “It’s the first time I’m actually undressing another man!”
Daniel, who had let himself sink into the cushions, straightened up again. He let his fingers caress the hair of the kneeling man, and said, “I have never done it. But … I’d like to…” he added with a question in his voice.
“Like I already said, Daniel. Everything you want,” Jack promised him again. He fell beside Daniel on the mattress. “Carry out your duty!” he pompously ordered with a royal gesture of his hand and an impish twinkle in his eye.
Chuckling, Daniel sank on his knees before the bed, admired the white silk stockings, pulled them down and struggled with the fastenings on Jack’s breeches. The older man laughed when Daniel tickled him unintentionally in the hollow of his knee. Then Jack was down to his skin-tight, light-coloured kerseymere breeches and Daniel’s hands were lying on Jack’s thighs; both men watched with breathless anticipation how the fingers slid higher and higher, leaving a trail of hot shivers over Jack’s muscles in their wake. Before Daniel could undo the last buttons at the waist, Jack pulled him on the bed.
They were lying facing each other, with Jack caressing Daniel’s cheek. One finger gliding down a perfect throat he asked, “You’ve got no problems, with... this?” He included both of them in a wave of his hand.
Daniel gave him a mischievous grin. “No. Nearly all of my favourite Greek poets had male lovers. I’m in best company.”
“Oh, so you’re only continuing a literary tradition, then,” Jack bantered and kissed Daniel again, his fingers starting to pull off Daniel’s last piece of clothing.
Daniel copied his actions; a few minutes later, skin was rubbing against skin and Daniel was finally able to study the naked and aroused body of another man. He followed with trembling hands the hard planes and tempting hollows he so often had fantasised about.
But he wasn’t the only one drinking in the beauty of his partner with thirsty looks and craving fingers. Jack, whose experience with men was limited to hasty, unloving acts in the field, to be indulged in only if the last visit to a brothel was too distant a memory… Jack now also discovered pleasure in the slow and playful approach. He made it his duty to find all the sensitive spots on Daniel’s body which made him utter those pleading, wanton sounds and arch his body into Jack’s hand with an insistent, “Please, please, please.”
Daniel was trying to return all the loving attentions, but soon he didn’t know anything anymore – what he was feeling, where his skin began and where Jack’s fingertips ended. He was captured in a tangle of feelings and sensations that brought him, with every minute that passed, closer to the point where he thought he would burst. And when he felt for the first time not only Jack’s fingers but also Jack’s tongue on his hardness, he was lost. Babbling excuses and enthusiastic approval at the same time, he came and spilled his seed over Jack’s hand and his own belly. With each new wave, he gasped “Jack” adoringly, until he finally pulled his lover close to him. He held him in his arms, while his breathing evened out and the colourful mist in his brain slowly lifted.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, still unable to believe one could feel so much at the same time. “That was… that was…”
“Strange?” Jack suggested with a wide grin.
Daniel laughed, relieved. “If that was `strange´, then it was the best `strange´ I’ve ever had.” He pulled Jack to him for another kiss. “Thank you.”
Slightly hesitant, Jack asked, “You think you might want more?”
Daniel cupped Jack’s cheek and answered firmly so that there was no room for doubt, “I want everything, Jack.” With that, he turned onto his stomach and wiggled his butt invitingly.
Jack gave him a playful slap, to which Daniel replied with another laugh. Jack sprang from the bed and said, “Just be patient, for a moment.” He went to the ebony washstand and came back with a small jar.
Daniel stared at him all the while, and Jack felt his throat constrict when he found out that Daniel was ogling his erection, which was bobbing up and down with every step.
“Daniel, stop distracting me!” he complained half-heartedly.
“I like what I see,” Daniel promised with sparkling eyes.
With a deep growl Jack threw himself on the provocatively teasing young man.
But after that, when Jack aligned his entire body against Daniel’s, when his groin pressed against Daniel’s buttocks and when his teeth started to nibble playfully on Daniel’s neck, Daniel forgot to make witty comments. The full body contact rendered him speechless. He suddenly felt like he had to make up, in the span of this one night, for all those years which had only been filled with his fantasies and his own hand. He implored Jack to give him more and Jack obliged. And when the first finger breached Daniel’s opening, all Daniel could do was moan loudly.
Jack thought back on all the encounters during the campaign, when the first priority was to reach climax before someone disturbed you. Without considering if your partner could cope with your rhythm or not. With Daniel, and for the first time, he felt that it was more important that the man beneath him was satisfied, was feeling good, and was getting out of this encounter as much joy and fulfilment as possible. His own completion, for once, only seemed a logical side-effect.
Therefore he came with Daniel, the moment the younger man reached his second climax of the evening. Jack’s attention and his needs had been so intensely tuned to Daniel’s that he’d had to follow Daniel’s orders of “faster” and “harder”. They tumbled together into the all-encompassing heat that fused them together and engulfed them.
When Jack tried to ease off Daniel’s back, his lover held him down and wrapped his arm around Jack’s waist. “Stay a moment. I don’t want to miss a second of it.”
Hearing the wistful resignation in Daniel’s words, Jack reassured him, “Daniel, we can repeat this.” He pressed a small kiss to the ink stain he discovered on Daniel’s thumb.
Daniel turned his head so he could look directly at Jack. “But we can’t arouse suspicion.”
“Hey, you’re a master of subterfuge, aren’t you?” Jack teased him tenderly.
“Really?” Daniel asked hopefully.
“I’ve got a huge library and I suppose you could come and rent one book after the other. You could use this as a pretext to visit me regularly for years, no, decades.”
“Oh.” Daniel considered this for a moment, before saying smugly, “And as renting-debts are debts of honour…”
“Exactly! I’ll insist mercilessly on their collection,” Jack laughed and finally rolled off Daniel’s back.
Sighing deeply and contentedly, Daniel pulled Jack into his arms again. “Sometimes subterfuge pays off…”
Jack ignored him deliberately. No need to encourage the young man.
--------------THE END-----------
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