Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
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Copyright ©2008 by Jade Falconer
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
CONTENTS Ghost of a Chance Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue About the Author ****
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Published by Phaze Books Also by Jade Falconer Morningstar Cold Hands, Warm... Girls on Film Tangled Web Escape "Devotion" from Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III Savior Morningstar: Death and Life (print) Sanctuary Wicked Game The Perfect Gift Back to the Past 4
Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Survival Making Magic Unexpected Connections (print collection) The Best Laid Plans ****
**** This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
out of the hands of children. www.Phaze.com
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Ghost of a Chance a novel of homoerotic romance by JADE FALCONER [Back to Table of Contents]
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Ghost of a Chance copyright 2008 by Jade Falconer All rights reserved under the International and PanAmerican Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. A Phaze Production Phaze Books 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC. To order additional copies of this book, contact:
[email protected] www.Phaze.com 8
Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Cover art © 2008 Sparrowhawk Edited by Kathryn Lively eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-59426-656-0 First Edition -October, 2008 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Ghost of a Chance by Jade Falconer
Chapter One Ryan hadn't ridden a train in years. Even though it was a modern one, it still gave him that 'old world charm' feeling. It was a long trip. Six hours. The buffet trolley came through the car a second time. He asked for a cup of tea and fumbled with the strangely shaped foreign coins. The estate solicitor had arranged for his ticket. First class. Not that first class was that much different from coach, but it was a little more comfortable. It wasn't something he would have splurged on himself. Each table had a little lamp with a tiny little lampshade with the rail line's logo on it. His tea was served in a china cup with the same logo. It was all adorably inefficient. He gazed out the window at the passing scenery. Although a lot of it looked like any old fields or pastures he might see back home, the details made it different. The occasional crumbling stone tower, the wrought iron gates that looked to be straight out of All Creatures Great and Small or The Vicar of Dibley, the road signs and station signs in bold graphics so purely British. It was a jarring mixture of the familiar and the strange. As the train sped north, even the cows looked foreign—great caramel-colored beasts with big horns and long hair hanging over their eyes. Scotland. It wasn't somewhere he'd ever think to visit. He knew nothing about it beyond the typical jokes, mostly courtesy of Mike Myers. Kilts. Vague suggestions of bestiality with sheep. Bagpipes, even though public television had 10
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taught him that the instrument had originated in China. But now that he was here, now that he could see it, something about the rugged, increasingly hilly and vast landscape called to him. Maybe it was just the spectacular news that he was the sole surviving heir to a real title and a castle of his own. He imagined that would mess with anyone's perceptions. When he'd gotten the letter he'd thought it was a joke, but a quick phone call to his mother confirmed it. As he sat on the train, he read over the letter again. Dear Mr. Legato, I am writing to you on behalf of your cousin, the Earl of Elgin. It is my sad duty to inform you that the Earl has recently passed away. He was in a fatal car crash with his only child. He survived for two days after the crash that killed his son, and it is my belief that he was able to hold on so that he could attempt to put his affairs in order. His dying wish was that his family's old and distinguished title not revert to the Crown. In short, he asked me to find you. You are the last surviving relative of the Earl, and as such, the uncontested heir to the Earldom and Castle Elgin. I realize this will come as something of a shock. The Earl expressed to me in his last hours that there was a rift in your family, and you may very well be unaware of your British relations. He looked up from the letter, lost in thought. That was when he'd called his mother. As far as he knew, up to that point, his entire family was Italian. His grandmother on his mother's side was definitely Italian. His grandfather on his 11
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father's side had come to the United States from Sicily with his wife, who didn't speak a word of English. Of course, he hadn't seen either of them since he was three years old, when his father had passed away. They'd moved and he'd learned that they'd both passed a few years later, but he was still a child at the time. However, according to his mother, it was his paternal great-grandmother who was British. But that was all she knew about it. He looked back at the letter. The Earl has always regretted not reaching out to find you sooner. In his final hours he asked the Almighty for forgiveness, and entreated me to locate you and see that you fulfilled your birthright... His birthright. It was such a weird idea. There was a phone number and more pleas for him to get in touch with the very proper-sounding solicitor's office. He called, and over the next few weeks arrangements were made. Photos of the property, of relatives, of the town where his castle was were sent. And then plane tickets and train tickets and now he was here, on a train to Elginshire. He didn't bring much with him, just one suitcase. He didn't know what the weather would be like, and he thought it might be cool to buy clothes there. He was an Earl now, after all. He could splurge a little. There was supposed to be a car waiting for him, but it was nowhere to be seen. It was raining fairly steadily by that point, and the station agent's booth was closed. Night was falling. The only building that showed any activity whatsoever was a pub down the road from the station. 12
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He rolled his suitcase across the loose gravel drive, then slipped inside the dark oak-paneled warmth. It was only then that he realized it had been fairly chilly outside. He parked his case by the coat rack and wandered further inside. Everyone in the place turned to stare. He realized that he might get that kind of reaction. Clearly this wasn't L.A, and he'd worked long and hard on his Hollywood facade. He took a breath and girded himself for whatever was coming, and walked up to the bar. The bartender was busily pouring some sort of ale from a long-handled tap and hadn't looked up yet, so he waited to get his attention. Actually, he was kind of cute. The bartender set the pint on the bar in front of a wizened old man and collected a two-pound coin from him with a smile. Then he turned, noticing Ryan out of the corner of his eye, and moved down the bar toward him. "Hello," he said as he approached. "What can I get you?" He was tall and slender, reddish brown hair falling into hazel eyes, his lips full and smiling. Ryan blinked. That sounded like a northern California accent to him. Changed a little, perhaps by living here a while, but definitely not native. "Oh. You're American!" he said with a smile. "Small world. Um, actually someone was supposed to pick me up at the station and they're not there. I was wondering if there was a phone somewhere that I could use." He felt like he was staring, but he couldn't help himself. There was something so engaging about the soft hazel eyes looking back at him. He dragged his attention away long enough to fumble in his bag for the tiny address book that had the estate agent's phone number in it. 13
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The bartender glanced around the small pub, and leaned close. "Well, I'm really not meant to, but you can use the phone. Just ... it won't reach. You'll have to come round here." He indicated the narrow area behind the bar, and smiled apologetically. Ryan gave him a sweet smile. "Thanks. I really appreciate it." He found the narrow entrance at the end of the bar and wriggled in behind it. "I meant to get an international cell, but I totally spaced out before I left. Anyway, hi. I'm Ryan," he said, extending his hand to the other man. He could almost feel the gazes of the patrons raking over him, but he wasn't worried. Even in L.A. he got looks like that sometimes. He wore his thick dark hair long, and never left the house without at least a bit of makeup, eyeliner at least. "I'm James," the bartender replied, shaking Ryan's hand, and pointed to the phone on the wall. "Help yourself." He had to squeeze past Ryan to fill another drink order, their bodies just touching as he did so. Ryan picked up the receiver and held it between his ear and his shoulder. He held one slender finger poised above the dial as he frowned at the number in his book. All the codes he had written down were to call from the United States. He transferred the phone to his hand again and glanced over his shoulder at James. "Um, I hate to ask, but..." He moved to stand next to him, holding up the little book open so he could see. "Where does the phone number actually start? Right after the 4-4?" He nibbled on his lip, his shoulder just brushing James' shoulder. 14
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James leaned close, peering at the numbers in the dim light. "Oh, right. Within the country, you have to add a naught. A zero. Drop the 4-4 and the 1, just dial the zero then the number." "A naught?" Ryan said with a grin. "Sorry. Thanks." He stepped away and returned to the phone, standing as close to the wall as possible to give James room. He dialed the number of the solicitor's office. "Is this Nigel Winthrop? Yes, this is Ryan Legato. Yes. Well, I'm here. No, it was today. Oh. Well, your office made all the arrangements, but, yes. I'm at the pub right now. Oh. Um, okay." He put his hand over the bottom of the phone and looked at James over his shoulder. "Is there any kind of taxi or car service around here that could take me to the castle?" he asked softly. "The castle?" James said with a raised eyebrow. "At this hour?" He looked at the clock. "Actually, I doubt you could get anyone at all this late." He hesitated. "But, if you could wait about half an hour, I could give you a lift when I get off." Ryan felt a little surge of excitement over that. His new, very attractive, American neighbor giving him a ride? "That'd be rad. Thanks," he said and turned back to the phone. "Yes, I can get a ride. Oh. Yes, okay. You mean, well, is there heat on at least? Oh, okay, then. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks." He hung up the phone and shimmied back out to the other side of the bar and took a seat at the end. "I don't suppose you have tea or something, do you?" he asked when the bartender was down at his end. 15
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James snorted. "Of course we have tea. I'm so sick of tea. Just try to get a real cup of coffee, there's the trick." He caught himself, smiling sheepishly. "You sure you don't want a pint or something?" He was already gathering up glasses to wash them. "Oh, no thanks. I don't drink alcohol. Some tea would be great. I've only been here eight hours, so I'm not sick of it yet," Ryan said with a grin. Since he had a little wait, he slid the black fuzzy jacket off his shoulders, revealing full sleeve tattoos beneath his black t-shirt. He pulled his hair back with both hands, smoothing it out before letting it tumble down his back again. The pub was rapidly clearing out, most of the regulars walking back to their homes. James put the kettle on in the back, and when he came out with a mug of tea, his eyes widened as he looked at Ryan's arms. He set the chipped white mug on the bar in front of him and said, "Nice ink." Ryan took the mug and held it between his hands, savoring the warmth. He glanced down. "Oh, thanks." He looked into James' eyes. "I keep forgetting it's there. No one in L.A. comments on it, usually. They're all too busy looking to see if they've been noticed to notice anyone else." He smirked a little and took a sip of his tea. "Mmm, it's so nasty out. Is it always like this?" James laughed, leaning his elbows on the bar. "This is nice weather for Scotland," he explained. "Summer weather." Ryan wrinkled his nose. "I'm definitely gonna have to do some shopping. I can't spend all my time in sweatpants." He took another sip of tea, enjoying it immensely. "You make a 16
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mean cup of tea, James. So how did you end up here? I mean, you can tell me to mind my own business at any time. Just so you know." "It's kind of a long story," James replied. "And probably pretty boring to someone like you." He smiled at Ryan. "Not that I don't want to tell you. I'm just warning you." He wiped down the bar with a Guinness towel. "Someone like me? I'm not as exciting as I look," he said, laughing a little. "Just your garden variety Hollywood gay boy." He looked down into his tea, wondering if he should have waited until after James gave him a ride before revealing that piece of information. But James seemed to take it okay. "You know, only my eyebrow waxer knows the real story," he said softly, venturing a shy glance up at James. Well, either he'd back off or continue to be friendly. Then he'd know what sort of reception he could expect in Scotland. James blushed just a little, but looked steadily back at Ryan. "Well, you're certainly going to liven up this sleepy little town," he said smiling. "I'm sorry, but I've got to do last call right now. Don't run off." He watched him close out tabs and fill a last minute order or two. As James moved behind the bar Ryan could see that he had a really nice ass. But he was probably straight. Anyway, Ryan wasn't in Scotland to find someone to hook up with. He was there to fulfill his birthright, whatever that meant. When James finally came back over to him, he finished off his tea and put the cup down. "Hey, I hope I didn't make you 17
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uncomfortable. Things tend to tumble out of my mouth before I really mean them to." James shrugged. "I'm not uncomfortable. And people here are generally pretty accepting. Not like small towns in the U.S., luckily." He pulled off his apron, smiling at Ryan. "It's pretty cold out now. Don't you have a heavier jacket?" He grabbed his keys and wallet from behind the bar. Ryan pulled his jacket back on. "This is pretty warm." He held the black fuzzy coat open. "It's vinyl inside." He zipped it up and slid the strap of his bag over his head, pulling his hair free of it. The other patrons filed out, and had thankfully lost interest in him. "I really appreciate you driving me. I'd be sleeping at the train station otherwise." James turned off the lights and locked the doors. "It's no problem," he assured Ryan, leading him to a ridiculously cute little blue car. It wasn't the smallest car around by any means, but by American standards it was tiny. He unlocked the passenger side for Ryan, then went to unlock his own door. Ryan realized belatedly that he had to get in on the left side and he climbed in. He buckled his seat belt. "Nice car." Ryan wasn't really a car guy, but he could appreciate them nonetheless. "I'm assuming you know where the castle is, 'cause I totally don't. Other than over there somewhere," he said, pointing through the gloom at the stone turret in the distance. "Oh, everyone knows where the castle is," James smiled, pulling out of the car park. He looked curiously over at Ryan. 18
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"If you don't mind my asking, why are you going there? There's been no one there since the Earl and his son died." "Yeah. He was like my cousin or something. I got a letter after he passed away. So..." He was a little embarrassed about the title thing, and inheriting a huge amount of money. It was all very weird. He glanced at James, wondering what his reaction would be. "Wow, I had no idea the Earl had any other family," James said. "He was nice enough, came into the pub once or twice." He looked at Ryan. "I see absolutely no resemblance, thank God," he added with a small laugh. "Wait, I heard there was no other family. Does that mean the castle is yours?" "Um, yeah. And the title. The solicitor was supposed to meet me, but he got the date wrong. Is it nice?" he asked. "I've never even been in a castle before." He couldn't help being a little excited. It looked imposing as they got closer, but he had all sorts of romantic notions about it. James let out a low whistle. "Maybe I should have bowed to you, then," he smirked at Ryan. "Congratulations. I mean, I'm sorry for your loss. But you'd never met the Earl?" He maneuvered through narrow country lanes quickly. Ryan rolled his eyes. "If you bow I'll behead you. No, I never met him. Never talked to him. Didn't even know about him until after he was gone. It's kinda sad, I guess, but he wanted to keep everything in the family, you know? So that would be me." He hoped James wasn't intimidated. "So, have you been in the castle?" James shook his head. "Never been in there. I've hiked the area, so I've seen the outside, but I've only been here a 19
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couple of years. The Earl used to host a holiday party every year, invited the whole town. I hear it's quite nice, though, a bit big and drafty. So I suppose this is all quite a shock for you then?" "Yeah. A huge shock. I got to pay off my mom's mortgage, though. That was cool. She's gonna come over here at Christmas with my stepdad and little brother." He stared up at the building coming into view at the end of the drive. "Whoa," he said breathily. A long row of flickering lights illuminated the curving driveway. They led to a massive stone building that looked as if it had been built a thousand years ago. The castle was in fact a bit younger than that, and had been modernized extensively, but it was said that this site had been owned by the family for as long as there were records. "Impressive," James agreed as they pulled to a stop in front. "At least there seems to be electricity." Ryan almost jumped out of the car before it stopped moving. "Come on!" he said, waving at James to follow. He jogged up to the front door. There was a lock box next to a bush. He punched in number the solicitor had given him and the box popped open to reveal a ring of keys inside. He held it up and rattled it at James triumphantly. "Haha, the keys to the castle," he said, laughing. James followed him to the massive front doors. "I wonder if the butler has the night off," he quipped, smiling at Ryan's excitement. Ryan opened the door and went inside the cavernous entry hall. "The solicitor said he pensioned all the servants off when 20
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the old Earl died. They just had a cleaning crew in a couple of days ago to like dust and air stuff out." He stared up at the three-story ceiling. "Fuck. Look at this place..." James looked up, and up. The entryway was dominated by a huge, spiraling staircase that clearly had been added, perhaps in the last hundred years or so. Off to either side were wide, tall hallways that led to shadowy rooms. The entryway light was the only illumination, casting ominous shadows. "Wow." Beside the door there was a small antique table, and atop it was an envelope with his name on it. Ryan picked it up and scanned the letter inside. "It says there's a room straight ahead, with a video cued up that I'm supposed to watch." He looked up at James. "Wanna watch it with me? Or, I mean, you probably have other things to do with your evening than babysit a clueless stranger." He shrugged a little. "Sorry." "I'd love to watch it with you," James said. "I'm having more fun than I've had in ages." He found a light switch that illuminated the hall in front of them. Ryan smiled and ventured forward, opening a door and fumbling for another light switch. When it was lit, they saw a huge, luxurious room. Above a massive fireplace was an equally huge flat screen television. Before it was an overstuffed sofa, and a low table with an elaborate remote control. Ryan sat on the couch and touched the miniature screen on the remote and it came to life. "I wonder what it's gonna be?"
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James sat on the couch next to Ryan, looking around in wonder. "Who knows? Maybe the place is cursed." He paused. "Actually, this place is supposed to be haunted." "Haunted?" Ryan said, laughing a little. It seemed ridiculous, when he was in this very modern room filled with the latest in home entertainment systems. "Yeah, right." He examined the remote, trying to puzzle it out. He pressed the power button, then hit 'play'. The screen flickered on, and an image of an old man in a hospital-like bed strangely juxtaposed amid the opulent luxury of what had to be the master suite appeared. Another man, younger and wearing a conservative suit, hovered over him adjusting a microphone under his chin. The injured man wheezed for a moment, various machines beeping all around him. "Now that it's come to this," he began slowly, "I hardly know what to say." He paused for a moment as a nurse stepped up to the bed on the opposite side of the man in the suit, then continued. "By the time you see this, you will be the Earl of Elgin. I know that means nothing to you, but it means a great deal to your ancestors." His voice softened as he went on. "I wish I knew more about you, son. I've been waiting for information, but with an ocean and a continent between us ... no matter. You are in the drawing room, and behind you is a desk. Within it and behind it is a vast store of knowledge about your family. I hope you will take it upon yourself to know us. There are portraits of every Earl lining the gallery upstairs. There are documents and albums and everything you might wish to know. I am sorry I could not prepare things more thoroughly." 22
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He was interrupted by a coughing fit. The nurse wiped his mouth and the tissue came away covered in blood. Ryan's eyes widened. "Whoa. Poor guy," he said softly. When the old man had collected himself, he pressed doggedly on. "Please, young man ... do not turn out to be a drunken, reckless ninny and piss away all our fortune. Think before you do things. Your life is no longer simply your life. You must build a reputation among people who do not know you. Consider what you wish that reputation to be." He started coughing again, and gasping for breath. For long moments the tape was simply the nurse attending to him, wiping his brow, adjusting buttons on the machines beside him. She covered his mouth and nose with an oxygen mask for a few moments and he seemed to calm down. When he spoke again, his voice was muffled by the plastic mask. "If I can help you, if there is a way ... I will find it. Good luck, son. I know you will make us all proud." And then the tape went black. Ryan just stood there watching for a moment. "Wow. Freaky," he said finally. He turned to look at James. "The last Earl, I take it?" James nodded, eyes wide, and said, "At least he had time to prepare this." Ryan shivered. "It's kinda spooky. Getting a video letter from a dead man." He glanced back at the desk at the far end of the room. Behind it were bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. "Wow. Homework," he said with a soft sigh. "Well, it's too late now. I guess I should go find the bedrooms and get my suitcase out of your trunk." He was suddenly sad at the idea of James leaving. "Unless we could go looking for 23
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the kitchens and try to make you a decent cup of coffee and see what else you can get on this huge television." James brightened. "I never say no to coffee," he replied. "If you're sure you're not too tired." "I've kind of gone through tired and come out the other side, you know? I think I should stay up for a while so I don't end up waking up at like four AM or something weird like that." He put the remote control back on the table and stood up. "So, where do you think the kitchen is likely to be?" He walked over to the bookshelf. "Do you think any of these has a floor plan in them?" He reached up to a high shelf and the action spontaneously made him want to stretch. His fingers curled over the edge of a shelf and he stretched, wringing the sleepiness out of muscles that had been mostly inactive for the better part of a day. "Um ... maybe in the desk drawers? But I'm sure we can find it." James' voice was just a little distracted. Ryan relaxed and shivered, sighing. "Oh," he said, turning towards the desk. "Okay." He opened the pencil drawer, but there was nothing, nor in the side drawers on either side. The desk top was the size of a twin mattress, but there was nothing on it but a blotter and a lamp. "Hm, well I guess we'll just have to brave the corridors. Should we leave a trail of bread crumbs?" he asked with a grin. He moved out from around the desk and went to the door, heading back into the foyer. James followed Ryan, rubbing his arms. "Maybe the thermostat is in the kitchen as well," he said. "I'm cold, but I'm sure this place has central heating." 24
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Ryan was cold, too, but he was getting used to it. He wandered through another set of doors to one side of the front door, and turned on the light. Clearly it was a dining room, judging by the enormous table and dozens of chairs marching down the length of it. One wall was a series of windows curtained in thick blue velvet. The opposite wall was lined with mirrors set high on the wall, and buffet tables flanking another huge fireplace. "Okay, well, hopefully the kitchen is in the vicinity of the dining room, huh? That'd make sense." At the opposite end of the room were glass cabinets displaying elaborate China plates, and a door. Ryan smiled at James over his shoulder. "I think we might be getting close." He headed for the door and pulled it open. Lo and behold, behind the door was the kitchen. The room was huge, and though the walls were still rough brick and the floors were what looked like the original slate tiles, the rest of the kitchen was crammed with modern appliances. "Wow. I guess he must've had a lot of parties, huh?" The place was enormous, but then it was probably proportionate to the size of the dining room. You could cook a meal for a few hundred people in the kitchen. He started opening cabinets to see what was there. He found coffee and sugar and mugs. In a drawer he found silverware. He opened the giant Subzero fridge and, while it wasn't packed full, it did have butter, milk, and bottled water. "Looks like some real coffee is within our grasp," he said, grinning at James. "But, um, I don't know how to use this coffee pot." He pointed at the black and chrome monstrosity on the counter. 25
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James moved closer and inspected it. "There isn't a coffee maker that I can't figure out," he assured Ryan, and after a few moments he had it sorted out. He filled the water reservoir and added the coffee beans. "It grinds the beans for you as well," he said, turning it on. The machine emitted a muted whirr and he turned to face Ryan. "It should be done in just a couple of minutes. Are you hungry? I could fix you something. It looks like there's some stuff in the freezer." Ryan smiled. It was sweet of James to offer. "No. I'm not hungry. Just something warm to drink would be rad. Thanks. But if you want anything, please help yourself." He watched as James filled two mugs with steaming hot, fresh coffee. "You know, I'm really, really glad I met you," he said quietly. James smiled over his shoulder, then brought the two mugs over to where Ryan stood. "So am I. I would have been sitting at home by now, absolutely bored, trying to find something to watch on TV. Or surfing the Web aimlessly." He returned to the cabinet for some sugar. Ryan wondered if he should invite James to stay, or if it would look like he was hitting on him. Despite his apparent culinary expertise, Ryan thought James was probably straight. He hadn't really commented when Ryan had so hamhandedly outed himself, so he was probably just being polite. "Um, well if you want to help me explore in the light of day, you could stay over. I mean, I'm sure there's plenty of beds," he added hastily. "Well..." James seemed to consider. "I'm off tomorrow. Sure, why not?" he said finally. "I wouldn't want to leave you alone here with the ghosts, after all." 26
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Ryan grinned, and when their coffee was prepared to their liking, they found their way back to the drawing room. Ryan put some logs in the fireplace and took a few minutes to start up a fire. By the time he was settled on the couch and playing with the remote control again, the room was already warming up. He smiled at James. "So you never did tell me the boring tale of how you ended up here," he prompted. James looked sideways at Ryan. "I warned you! Well, I didn't really plan it this way, but I did a year of studying abroad at the University a couple of towns over. I was going to Berkeley at the time." He looked into the fire for a moment. "I wasn't really happy there, at Berkeley. I didn't know what I wanted to do. The study abroad seemed like a diversion, you know?" He sipped his coffee. "My dad was my only family back there. He was killed in a plane crash." He looked down. "After the funeral, I decided to finish out the year here, and came back." He shrugged. "And then I never left. I had nothing to go back to. I got a little money from selling the house in Oakland, and with working at the pub, I decided to pursue the one thing I really wanted to do. Writing." Ryan was quiet, taking in the information. He felt a desire to comfort James, make him happy somehow, but there was nothing he could really do. "That must have been awful," he said softly. "My dad died when I was three, but I don't really remember him. It must have been hard to finish school after that. How long have you been here?" he asked. The quiet chatter of the television in the background and the blazing 27
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fire made the room seem far cozier and intimate than it had before. "Three years this fall," James answered. "This place grows on you. The people are just nice, you know? Deep down. They care about each other." He laughed. "I'm still the new boy, though. The American. I always will be." He turned to look at Ryan. "Are you thinking of staying a while?" he asked. "Or are you going to sell the place?" "Well I don't know yet. I mean..." He nibbled on his lip. "It's not just the house. It's the whole title thing, too, you know? I feel a little obligated to at least spend some time here and figure it out. Like the guy on the tape said, it might not mean anything to me, but it means a lot to my ancestors. Sure, they're all dead, but I owe them at least a while to think it over. I thought I'd start with a year, and see what I think after that. Not that I have any idea what I'm gonna do here, but it is kinda really cool, isn't it? I mean, can you even imagine finding out that you own a castle out of nowhere? It's like winning the lottery or something." Ryan wasn't accustomed to holding anything back, and he didn't do so now. James nodded. "So, what do you do in Hollywood?" Ryan chuckled a little. "Um, not much. I did a little acting and I was in a band, but mostly I waited tables. Oh, and made everyone on the dance floors of all the coolest clubs feel horribly inferior." He gave James a wink. "I guess you could say I was waiting for my big break. I probably should have stuck to either music or acting," he shrugged. "I don't 28
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know. I guess I wasn't quite ready to settle down to one thing yet. But now I think I might be." "So this will be kind of a vacation for you, then?" James smiled. "I'm afraid there are no cool dance clubs here, or any clubs at all. I hope you're not terribly bored." "Well, it's been exciting so far. I think it'll be different, but not boring. Although, I wish there was like Earl school or something. I'm hoping this solicitor guy will give me a clue or two. Do I have to meet the Queen? Appoint the local clergy? Heal the sick? What? I should have read more historical romance novels." He sighed dramatically before grinning at James again. "No, I'll be fine. And if worse comes to worse I'll just fly a bunch of hot scene boys out here and have my own dance club in one of the bigger closets or something." James laughed, blushing a little. "I'm sure that would be the talk of the town for years to come," he said. "In fact, I'm sure you will be anyway. They mean well, though, for the most part. They're just nosy." He sipped at his coffee. "I bet all the hot boys miss you already." "Eh, the overwhelming majority of them are straight, anyway. More's the pity. I'm sure they've shed a tear or two for my departure and have moved on. I've been gone almost two days by now, after all." He rolled his eyes a little. "I don't mind being the talk of the town. Especially if I have one really awesome friend already, I can brave the chilly Scots with a song in my heart." He took a sip of his coffee. "I'm not usually this over the top, but I'm feeling punchy from jetlag. I hope you'll forgive me if I say anything bad." 29
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"Say anything you want," James smiled over the rim of his cup. "Over the top is fun." "Oh, you don't want me to do that," he laughed. "Who knows what'll come out of my mouth." He finished off his coffee and put the mug down. "Should we get my suitcase and explore the second floor?" he suggested. James nodded, setting his own mug down. "Too bad, though. It's nice and warm in here," he said. He stood, stretching a little. "Well, we can start a fire upstairs. I'm sure there's more fireplaces up there, don't you think? It seems like that kinda place." He unfolded himself gracefully from the couch and sauntered back out to the hall. "And I have a sweater in my case that I'm gonna really need, anyway." James followed Ryan, still looking around at the grandiose house. "My grandmother would have loved this place," he mused. "I remember her telling me when I was little, that her side of the family had once had a castle. It's a ruin now, though, if it ever existed." Ryan opened the door and pulled his fuzzy jacket on again, pulling it tightly around him. "All of the family that I knew are from Italy and came to the U.S. with nothing but the clothes on their back so," He shrugged. "This is all really weird for me." James looked over at Ryan's profile as they walked. "Yes, I can see the Italian," he mused. Ryan headed out to the car. He turned and smiled at James, waiting for him to produce the key. "Is it in the 30
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'boot'?" he asked with a grin. "I need to learn this new language." James opened the back of the car. "It's more of a hatch, really," he said. "But you'd be right. The trunk is called the boot." He pulled out the suitcase. "God, what do you have in here, rocks?" Ryan laughed and took the case from him. His breath hitched a little as their hands brushed against each other. "Pussy. It's light." He pulled up the handle and rolled it into the house. "The heavy stuff is being shipped." James followed. "The heavy stuff? How much stuff have you got?" He closed and locked the door behind them. "All your electrical stuff won't work here, you know. Not without converters." "Oh well, I have all that stuff with me. I have a converter for some stuff. I bought a hair dryer at the airport, cause, you know, can't do without that. The heavy stuff..." He started hoisting the case up the stairs one at a time. "Is like books, more makeup, CDs, more books ... you get the idea." He reached the top of the stairs with a grunt, and stopped to take a deep breath. "There, that wasn't so heavy." James looked up and down the hallway. He pointed at a huge set of double doors at the end of the corridor, made of heavy dark wood and intricately carved. "That looks like a master bedroom to me." The walls were covered by framed oil paintings and tapestries, each one undoubtedly worth a fortune. Ryan rolled the suitcase down to the end of the hall and opened the double doors. Although he was growing 31
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accustomed to the luxury all around, his breath caught when he saw the room. It was pink. Well, more like a light rose, but still. And the bed was enormous. "Holy shit," he said laughing a little. The wallpaper, the curtains, the bed hangings, the covers. "Maybe there's something to that argument that it's hereditary after all," he said, laughing. He walked forward and launched himself into the center of the oversized mattress. James walked in, wincing from the sheer amount of pink. "What's hereditary?" Ryan was lying in a giant sea of pink velvet, laughing still. "Queerness!" he giggled. Then he sobered. "Sorry, but no straight guy would let his wife do this, would they?" James blushed. "Um. Probably not, no." He walked over to the window, drawing the curtains aside. "I expect you'll have a wonderful view of the moors from here. When it's not foggy, which isn't often." Ryan sat up, thinking he'd embarrassed James. He tried to act more sober. He went over to the fireplace and started to pile some more wood into it, lighting another fire. It took a few minutes, and as he was poking at the kindling he noticed two other doors in the room. He got up and opened one, finding it to be a dressing room with an adjoining bathroom. The other led on to another bedroom. "Oh, hey this room is nice." He went in and turned on the light. It was far more subdued, in dark green and blue jewel tones. James looked in approvingly. "Much better," he agreed. The room was much less opulent, but still quite comfortable. The bed was nearly as large. 32
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Ryan wandered in and knelt to start another fire. "So, do you want this room?" he asked, glancing at James over his shoulder before striking a match to light a stick of wood. He shrugged, looking around. "I can sleep anywhere," he replied, glancing back toward the other room. "Even surrounded by pink. I really don't care. You're tired, you should make yourself comfortable." He moved closer to the fire as it roared to life, warming his hands. Ryan sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire. "Well, the pink bed is pretty comfortable. It doesn't matter to me." He stared into the flames. "Do you think I'm gonna suck at this Earl thing?" he asked quietly, fatigue catching up to him quickly. James lowered himself to the rug next to Ryan. "I don't think there's a rating system," he assured Ryan. "From what I can tell, the Earl didn't do much." He shrugged. "You're American. People will automatically assume you're an idiot and forgive you anything." He grinned. "I should know." Ryan looked over at him and smiled sleepily. "Thanks. That makes me feel better. I gotta crash." He leaned close and gave James a light kiss on the cheek. "Good night," he whispered. Then he climbed to his feet and wandered into the other room. "Oh, I'll leave the door open if you wanna use this bathroom in here," he called out. Ryan dragged his case further into the room and opened it. He found pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt and changed in the middle of the room. Then he crawled into the huge bed, under the pink covers, and in a few moments he was unconscious. 33
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Chapter Two Hazy light streamed in through the window next to the bed, and Ryan awoke to a strange, grating little sound. His eyes fluttered open and he nearly jumped out of bed. There was a man standing beside it, looking down at him. "Good morning, my lord." Ryan rubbed his eyes and sat up, clutching the rosecolored velvet around him. "Who are you?" he asked, voice raspy from sleep. "Nigel Winthrop, at your service, my lord. I am your estate solicitor." Ryan took in the extremely stiff-looking, three-piece pinstripe suit, the pinched expression, the immobile hair. "Um, hi. But, could you call me Ryan, please?" The already tight lips pursed. "That's not really appropriate, my lord." Ryan sighed and pushed his unruly hair back. He moved the covers aside and sat on the edge of the big bed. "Um, do you mind if I..." He glanced over at the door to the bathroom. "I'll just be a minute." He scampered across the room without waiting for the dour man's permission. After relieving himself, washing his face, brushing his teeth and running a brush through his hair, he returned to the room. "Okay. Now, Nigel, was it? Nice to meet you, Nigel," he said, extending his hand to the other man. Winthrop hesitated a moment and then shook Ryan's hand. "The pleasure is all mine, I can assure you, my lord. I 35
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do apologize for yesterday's incident. A mistake such as that shall never happen again." "Oh, that's okay. I got a ride." Really, it had worked out for the best. If a car had been waiting for him, he wouldn't have met James. "Um, so I guess you're here to show me the house?" "Yes. That and a few other matters I need to discuss with you. And unfortunately, the local press has gotten wind of your arrival. I expect they'll be showing up at your doorstep any moment, but I will be happy to send them on their way." Ryan's brow wrinkled. "Press?" He chuckled a little. "I'm newsworthy?" Winthrop frowned. "It is not every day that a new peer of the realm arrives in town, especially one that, forgive me for saying so, my lord, but especially one from America who has no idea what he's doing." Ryan had to agree with that last part. He felt completely clueless. "Well, I don't mind talking to them if it'll help. I have nothing to hide. Isn't it better to give them a quote or two so they won't come back?" That made the uptight solicitor pale. "Good heavens, no. You're not allowed to speak to those people until you have at least been coached!" Ryan blinked. "Not allowed? What, are you my nanny?" he asked, planting his hands firmly on his hips. "Look, why don't you go downstairs and make yourself a cup of tea or something, and I'll get dressed, okay? And then we can talk about whatever." 36
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Winthrop scowled, looking affronted. "We must hire you some staff immediately," he said, retreating. "I shall await you in the drawing room, my lord." Ryan watched him go, wondering what he'd said wrong. Then he rummaged through his suitcase for clothes, shampoo, conditioner, finishing rinse, body wash, razor, and his makeup case. He returned to the bathroom and showered and got ready. In the dim light of day, the castle was even more impressive. Ryan jogged down the steps in tight black jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt to ward off the chill. He hoped there was a washer and dryer, because he only had a couple of pieces of clothing that were warm enough. He found his way to the drawing room easily. It was the main room on the ground floor, opposite the front door. He left the door open as he walked inside and walked over to the desk. Nigel was already seated primly before it. Ryan leaned his hip against the edge of the heavy piece of furniture and stuffed his hands down in his pockets. "Okay," he said with a smile. "I'm here. So what other things do you have to discuss with me?" he asked. The solicitor lifted his briefcase and set it carefully on his lap, opening it. "My lord, I assume you watched the videotape last night?" "Yep," he nodded. "Watched that. It was kinda creepy, though." "There are other instructions that the previous Earl left with me. Things I am to assist you with. Managing the estate, comporting yourself in society, securing an heir..." 37
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The last one caught Ryan's attention. "An heir?" "Yes. You must marry at your earliest convenience." "What?" Ryan's eyebrows crept up nearly to his hairline. "You're kidding, right?" he said, relaxing a little. "Aww, Nigel, and here I was thinking you didn't have a sense of humor." The solicitor frowned. "I most certainly am not 'kidding', my lord. Your primary responsibility as the Earl of Elgin is to produce an heir and secure the line. You must choose a young lady to be your countess and sire a son." Ryan looked at him as if he had two heads. "Waaaaiit a minute here. Can't I just, I don't know, leave everything to my little brother? I'm sure he'll get married and have a kid eventually." He was his half brother, though. "He is not in line to inherit. He is not a blood relation in the line of the Elgin." "But I'm the Earl, and he's a blood relation of mine!" "It is not possible. You must produce a child." Ryan was quiet for a moment, frowning deeply. "I, there has to be another way. There aren't any other relatives? Anywhere?" "No. You are the very last one. It falls to you alone." "Fuck," he whispered, and then instantly put his hand over his mouth. "Oh. Sorry. Um ... well, I can't think about that now. There's gotta be a way around that somehow, but we'll worry about that later." "Um, sorry to interrupt." Ryan looked up and saw James. He instantly smiled at him. "Good morning. Did you sleep okay?" he asked, taking a few steps towards him. James looked completely adorable all 38
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rumpled in the morning, unshaven and hair mussed, wearing the same wrinkled shirt from last night. But he had to stop thinking like that. He had a bad habit of getting attached to straight boys as it was. "We should make more coffee. Nigel? Oh, Nigel, this is James. He gave me a ride home last night. He works at the pub. James, this is Nigel, the lawyer guy. Nigel, do you want some coffee? Or tea? We figured out how to use the coffee pot last night." Winthrop clearly wasn't pleased, but he put his briefcase on the desk and stood and turned towards the new person in the room. "Nigel Winthrop, estate solicitor. Many thanks for looking after the Earl last night," he said with a slight bow. Then he glanced at Ryan. "Some tea would be quite agreeable, my lord." The corner of James' lips quirked up a little bit and he looked at Ryan, eyebrows slightly raised. "I'll go and make the coffee, and the tea," he offered. He looked at Ryan. "Which would you like?" "Coffee, but I'll come with you." He smiled at Winthrop. "I'll just be a few minutes. Sit, relax. Milk and sugar okay?" He started shooing James out the door. "Yes, please," the solicitor said. "Okay. Be right back." He closed the door behind them when they got out into the foyer, and almost instantly started giggling. "Oh my God," he whispered. "Is he for real?" Ryan's laughter was infectious, and James snickered. "I'm afraid so. Wow. How does he sit with such a huge stick up his ass?" They went into the kitchen. "You've never met him 39
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before, I take it?" James started the coffee maker working, then put water on for tea. "No, hovering over my bed this morning was the first time." Ryan leaned against the counter and then pulled himself up onto it, his feet dangling. "I had a few letters from him, mostly travel arrangements and stuff. I think he's here to put the smack down on my carefree lifestyle. 'Cause you know, this is such a party town, I could get distracted from the serious business of Earling." James' eyes widened. "He came into the room and woke you up? Damn. That's kinda creepy." "No creepier than anything else. He was politely clearing his throat. I think he opened the curtains, too, but that didn't do the trick, apparently." Ryan pulled one knee to his chest and retied his shoelace. "Oh! He said a reporter was coming, too. What's that all about? I'm not allowed to talk, though." "A reporter?" James considered. "Well, they do take any kind of royalty very seriously over here. And not much else newsworthy happens, so..." He shrugged. "Why can't you talk to him, I wonder? What's-his-name out there doesn't trust you?" Ryan grinned broadly. "If you were him, would you trust me?" He hopped down from the counter, got the milk out, and then the sugar. "But I don't have to listen to him, right? I mean it's me they want to talk to, not Nigel Winthrop." James looked like he belonged here. In Ryan's kitchen, that was bigger than the apartment he'd just left a week ago. He sighed a little. 40
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The water boiled, and James poured it over the tea leaves in the strainer into the pot. He replaced the lid, then found two mugs and a tea cup. He poured coffee into the mugs. "What does he think you're going to do? You don't know enough about it to embarrass anyone." He shrugged. "I'd say hear him out, then do what you want." Ryan nodded, spooning some sugar into his own coffee. "Yeah. That sounds like a plan. Hey, you're pretty smart," he said, giving James a sideways smirk. "I'm lucky you're here." It would have been the ideal time to give James a friendly pat on the ass, but he couldn't do it. This wasn't Hollywood. "You're making fun of the poor stupid bartender," James teased, pouring tea into a proper cup for the older man. "Haha, yeah. Maybe I'll take pity on you and offer you a job as my ladies' maid," he said, sticking out his tongue. He took a sip of his coffee. "Mmm. Are we ready to face Mr. Frostyballs again? I think there's a tour involved. Might be fun." James laughed. "As long as I don't have to wear a skirt," he said. "I don't have the legs for it." He picked up the cup of tea for the solicitor, and his own mug, and followed Ryan out the door. They wound their way back through the dining room and the foyer to the drawing room. Ryan walked around the desk and sat down with a grin. "Big desk," he said softly. He could see how someone could feel important at a desk like that. "We figured out the remote control, so the rest of the place should be all downhill from there, right?" 41
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Winthrop accepted his tea from James and thanked him. "My lord, there are a great many things you must learn." He glanced at James a little nervously. Ryan looked from Winthrop to James and back again. "You can talk in front of him. He's cool." James grinned briefly at Ryan before moving across the room, examining the titles of the books on the bookshelves. They all looked like original copies, expensively bound. No paperbacks here. The solicitor pursed his lips and pulled a folder of papers out of his briefcase. He set them before Ryan and leaned over the desk. "These are the household accounts. I'm sure you understand it takes a fair amount of money to support a residence such as Castle Elgin. There is also a modest townhouse in London, for when business requires you to travel there. There is usually a staff of twelve for this house. The staff of the previous Earl were quite elderly and were pensioned off at the time of his passing. I can arrange for new applicants if you wish to conduct interviews." "Twelve? Twelve other people would live here?" That seemed like a lot to Ryan. "I mean, couldn't we just get a bunch of Merry Maids in once a week and do the place up? I mean, what do we need that many people for?" Winthrop sighed long-sufferingly. "Three groundskeepers are required at least. They typically live in the carriage house. A chef, a housekeeper, a butler, a footman, an upstairs maid, a downstairs maid, a driver..." "A driver? Do I have a car?" he interrupted. 42
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Winthrop took a sip of tea. "At the moment there is only one. The Bentley was involved in the accident. The insurance company has written it off as a loss. There is only an old MG in the garage now, but a new car could easily be purchased." Ryan noticed James react to the mention of the car, and he gave him a little smile. He didn't care much about cars himself. Back at home no one let him drive, anyway. "Can we see the car?" he asked. "Of course, my lord." Winthrop took one last sip of his tea and stood stiffly. "If you would follow me, please." He proceeded towards the door. Ryan glanced at James and nodded his head, silently asking him to come along, and followed Nigel. They crossed the entry hall and went out the front door. Nigel led them around to the left. On the far side of the drive was another building which, in the light of day, Ryan could see had four garage doors along the front of it. The proper solicitor bent before the first door and pulled it open. Inside was an old, slightly neglected-looking, bright red MG. James moaned. "That's a 1974," he whispered to Ryan. "All original. It's gorgeous." His gaze traced the lines of the car. "I always wanted one..." He grinned at Ryan. "If it needs any work, I could totally do it. I'd love to get my hands on it." Ryan laughed a little. "Hey, knock yourself out. I know nothing about cars. I'll probably be taking a taxi everywhere. Or, you know, the James express," he said with a grin. "It runs, but it does need some work. I believe the previous Earl's son intended to 'fix it up' as you say, but never did so," Winthrop provided. He pulled out a chain of 43
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keys and flipped through them until he found the one he was looking for. He removed it and handed it to Ryan. "It is now yours." Ryan took the key and turned it over in his palm once, then held it out to James. "You wanna try it out?" James grinned, almost bouncing. "Fuck yeah," he said, then glanced apologetically at the solicitor, then back at Ryan. "I mean, unless you have more, um, Earling to do." Ryan giggled at that. "Well, do you wanna drive around while I go over some of the really boring stuff and when you get back we'll see the rest of the house?" he suggested, looking from James to Nigel and back again. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I could go get us some food, so I can fix you lunch." "Cool. That'd be rad." He really had to control his urge to adore his friendly fellow American. "I'm a vegetarian, though, okay? I mean, you don't have to get tofu or anything, just no animals." Ryan wrinkled his nose at the thought. "I'm a vegetarian, too," James said. "Not easy around here, either, let me tell you." He smiled. "I'll get something good, I promise." "Okay. You go have fun. We'll be in the drawing room when you get back." Ryan instantly trusted James. And anyway, James' own car was still there. He'd at least come back for that. Nigel scowled a little, but Ryan ignored it. They headed back inside as James left, and Ryan let himself be drawn into the complex world of aristocratic finances and customs. [Back to Table of Contents] 44
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Chapter Three By the time he heard James return, his head was spinning, and he nearly jumped out of his chair. "Thank God!" James walked into the room, grinning from ear to ear and carrying a couple of bags. "Sorry it took so long, but it died halfway to town. I had to mess with it for a while before I could get it going. It's gonna need a new set of plug wires and a bunch of other stuff. A rat or something chewed through one almost all the way, so it's basically running on three cylinders." He stopped and looked at Ryan sheepishly. "Let me go put this stuff away, and make some tea," he offered. "I'll help," he offered, anxious to take a break. "We can eat in the dining room like real people," he said. "Nigel? Wanna meet us in there?" He seemed to be growing used to his new charge's ways, because Nigel Winthrop stood and sketched a brief bow. "Yes, my lord." Ryan sighed and followed James back to the kitchen. "It's so weird when he calls me that," he said softly as they passed through the dining room. "So you enjoyed the whole car thing, then?" James seemed to consider auto repair as play. Ryan had known guys like that, although he didn't quite understand it himself. "Totally," James enthused, pulling groceries out of the bags. He'd gotten a bunch of vegetables and some rice. "That car is a classic. It's only got thirty thousand miles on it. 45
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Unbelievable. If you want, I'd love to fix it up for you." He looked over at Ryan. "Is vegetable fried rice okay? I figured it was simple." "Yes and yes. I could pay you to fix it up if you want. I'm sure it's in the budget." He looked at all the things James had unpacked. "Can I do anything? Chop stuff up or anything?" "You don't have to pay me," James said. "I love to work on cars. It would be fun." He looked back at the vegetables. "You can cut these up," he said, "while I put the rice on." He looked around for pans and utensils. "Okay, but in exchange for fixing it up you can drive it whenever you like, okay?" Ryan set to work. He found a big cutting board and a sharp knife. He washed all the veggies in the deep, ancient sink and started chopping. James found a large pan that would serve as a wok, and heated it up. He began to stir fry the vegetables, filling the kitchen with mouth-watering smells. Ryan took a deep breath. "Mm, smells awesome." He hopped up on the opposite counter again, watching James cook. James had a gorgeous ass, he decided with a regretful sigh. "So what do you write?" he asked, wanting to know more about him. "Well, that's kind of a long story," James said as he stirred the sizzling vegetables. "I was a sociology major, and my thesis started to turn into a book. But then as I did more research..." He looked down, a little embarrassed. "It turned into a novel. Yeah, I'm trying to write the great American novel. In Scotland." 46
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"Wow, really? That's awesome! I'd love to read it some time. All I ever write is poetry. Or, you know, lyrics. Not that any of them are very good." He swung his feet a little, rubbing his palms on his thighs. It was so easy to talk to James. He barely even missed his friends back home, although he realized he needed to call his mom soon. "I write freelance for a couple of magazines," James said. "I've had a few short stories published, that kind of thing. I have an agent, at least. That's a start." He looked up at Ryan. "I wish I could hear you sing. What kind of music do you do?" That was always a difficult question to answer for Ryan. "Well, kinda hardcore, kinda a bunch of other stuff. I guess mostly hardcore, though. My band wasn't really going anywhere so..." He left it at that, giving a delicate shrug. "Maybe I'll find some cute Scottish boys and start a new band. Play for the Queen or something," he said with a laugh. "I'll be in the front row," promised James, adding the rice to the vegetables and stirring. "You want to find some serving dishes or something to put this in? It's almost done." Ryan hopped down and started opening cabinets until he found what they were looking for. He put a platter on the stove next to where James was cooking. "God, my stomach is growling now," he said, smiling. "Well, good, 'cause I always make too much food," James said, adding a dash more soy sauce as he mixed. Then he scooped the rice out onto the platter. "Okay, all ready," he said. "We just need plates and utensils." Ryan gathered up the rest of what they needed and they made their way into the dining room. He set three places and 47
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then went looking for Nigel. He returned with the stiff Brit and they all sat down to eat. "So, after this we really have to see the rest of the house, okay?" Ryan prompted. Winthrop looked askance at the plate of food before him, but tried some anyway. "Of course, my lord. Whatever you wish." Ryan frowned a little. "I wish you wouldn't call me 'my lord.' Any chance you could call me Ryan? And I'll call you Nigel?" He glanced at James, wondering if he was pushing the solicitor too far. Winthrop was silent for a moment, pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher they'd brought in. "I hope you don't find what I'm about to say disrespectful, but you are now a Peer of the Realm. For me to call you by your given name ... it would be like turning your back on the Queen. It's just not done here." "But, well, take the Queen for example. Like, Prince Charles doesn't call her 'Your Majesty' does he? I'm sure there are some situations..." "Yes, but I am not your son," Winthrop said tightly. "Okay, but, well, you're one of two people I know in this whole country. You're here to advise me and stuff, right? Can't we at least try to be like friends?" Winthrop's eyes widened and he was silent again. Ryan looked at James. "Doesn't that make sense to you?" he asked. James reached over and put his hand on Ryan's reassuringly. "Maybe these things take time," he said softly. "You'll both get used to each other." 48
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Ryan stared at James for a moment. His fingers felt a little rough, but so warm where they were touching his hand. His stomach lurched, and his voice came out as little more than a hoarse squeak, as he said, "Okay. Maybe you're right." He finally looked away, but didn't pull his hand away. He turned his eyes to Nigel. "I guess if it means so much to you, call me whatever you feel comfortable calling me," he said softly. "I am honored that you wish to think of me as a friend, my lord. I hope I can live up to your expectations," the older man replied, softening a little. Ryan smiled and then glanced at James, whose hand still covered his own. The meal went more smoothly after that, and Nigel seemed to try his best to eat the food that he clearly didn't like. After they cleared away the dishes it was finally time for the tour. They started on the ground floor. Nigel showed them the breakfast room and the salon on the first floor, as well as the library, which had a billiard table and a long, polished bar. There was a back staircase that led up to the servants' wing, but they returned to the foyer to take the main stairs. There were two other hallways that hosted bedrooms, ten in total, divided between facing the front gardens and the back. The third floor had a formal ballroom and a portrait gallery along the entire width of the building. Portrait after portrait of the Earls of Elgin. A few bore some resemblance to Ryan, although they were fairer of complexion. 49
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The last stop was the nursery and the servants' wing. The rooms were considerably smaller, but still quite nice. There were ten bedrooms there, as well, although most contained at least two beds each. The nursery was still full of toys and storybooks from the last child who had been raised there. It all seemed so strange and foreign to Ryan. "What's that door?" he asked, pointing to the only door they hadn't yet gone through. "That is the attic and the stairs up to the roof," Nigel explained. "There is various bric-a-brac from former Earls and Countesses up there. Nothing you need concern yourself with. And of course through the other door in the kitchen is the way to the basement where the staff usually eats, and the laundry and some of the baking facilities." He urged them back downstairs. Ryan filed that information away, but by the time they reached the ground floor there was a loud knock on the front door. Without even thinking, he went to open it. There standing before him was a woman, not so much older than himself, in a sensible, wooly-looking suit. She had bleached blonde hair swept up in a bun. The woman's eyes widened as she took in Ryan. Clearly she wasn't expecting him. After a moment's hesitation and obvious internal struggle, she spoke in a very proper accent, "Hello, my lord. You must be the Earl. Please forgive my rudeness. I wasn't expecting you to answer the door yourself. But of course, the staff has been let go." Her tone was still vaguely disapproving. "Oh, where are my manners?" She 50
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sketched a brief curtsey, and said, "I am Portia Murray. So honored to finally meet you, my lord." "Oh, hi," Ryan said, holding out his hand. "I'm Ryan. Legato. Um, yeah, the Earl. Sorry, I'm not quite used to that yet." "Miss Murray, this is not the time or the place," Nigel practically bellowed, coming to stand beside Ryan. "Miss Murray is the reporter I told you about before, my lord. But she will be leaving immediately." Ryan glared at Nigel. "It's okay. I don't mind talking for a minute or two." He turned his attention back to the woman. "Did you wanna come in?" The woman's frown at the solicitor's outcry turned to a smile as she realized that the new Earl wasn't necessarily listening to advice. "I would be most happy to come back at a more suitable time, but if you have a few moments now, I promise I won't take up too much of your valuable time." Ryan stood back to let her pass through the door. He had an odd thought that vampires can't come into your house unless you invite them, but pushed it away. He led the way into the drawing room and offered her a seat on the sofa. "What was it you wanted to talk about, Miss Murray?" he asked. James hovered across the room, studying the bookshelves. The woman sat down, crossing her legs smoothly and focusing on Ryan to the exclusion of all else. "I'm a reporter for the local newspaper, my lord. All the townspeople are eager for news of their new Earl and the honored task of informing them falls to me. It's not every day we get a 51
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newcomer from America in our sleepy little town." She leaned forward earnestly. "The British people love their royalty, my lord. They would appreciate just a few details about you." "Okay. Um. Like what? I'm twenty-six. I'm from California, what else do you want to know?" He thought maybe he should keep the details on a need to know basis. "I hope I'll get a chance to, you know, meet people myself, so..." The woman pulled out a small notebook and began to make a few notes, nodding. "Lovely," she said, looking up at Ryan. "And is there a Mrs. Legato who will be the newest Countess of Elgin?" Ryan couldn't help but smirk at that. "Um no. No Mrs. Legato, unless you mean my mom." He glanced at Nigel. "I mean, you know, not yet, anyway." He sighed, hating the white lie. The reporter picked up on that uncertainty, and leaned closer. "Is there a lucky girl back home in California, then? So the local girls don't get their hopes up?" Ryan was used to instantly translating, 'is there a girl', 'are you seeing anyone', and 'what about that special someone' into 'do you have a boyfriend?' in his mind, so he didn't miss a beat. "Nope. No one back home," he said, smiling serenely. He'd never actually had a relationship with anyone that lasted longer than a couple of weeks, but he knew when the right person came along he would. He wasn't worried about it. The woman's smile widened predatorily. "Well, I'm sure that will make the local girls' hearts flutter, especially when they see you," she purred, patting Ryan gently on the knee. She went on to ask more innocuous questions about how 52
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much Ryan knew of Elgin and the late Earl, but occasionally she'd slip in a more personal one. Nigel hovered nearby and, when he felt something was too personal, would clear his throat. Finally, when the reporter had taken up twenty minutes of their time, he interrupted. "Excuse me, my lord. There are many other things we must discuss. I believe it is time to bring the interview to a close." Ryan looked up at him and agreed, much as it was stroking his ego to have a complete stranger so interested in his life. "Well, Miss Murray, thanks for coming by. Maybe we can talk some more another time," he said, standing. Portia smiled. "Of course, my lord. Thank you for your time. When you wish to give me an exclusive interview..." She produced a business card and pressed it into Ryan's hand. She seemed to notice James for the first time and frowned slightly, but Nigel was already ushering her out the door. When the woman was gone, James walked closer to Ryan and said, "She's quite a piece of work." "Yeah. I guess all that stuff they say about the British press is true." He shrugged a little. "But I have nothing to hide, you know? I don't care. It's all good." He looked into James' eyes and smiled. "Sorry it took so long. Were you totally bored?" "No, you're fascinating," James said immediately, smirking. "Haha, yeah. I thought you said you didn't want to get paid." He stuck out his tongue playfully at James. "Really, once she figures out how boring I am, I'm sure she'll lose 53
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interest." He didn't think staying up late dancing or drinking soy lattes was really the stuff of tabloids. "You don't seem boring to me," protested James. He glanced toward the door and lowered his voice. "How long you think till we can get rid of, what did you call him? Mr. Frostyballs?" Ryan's heart skipped a beat at that. Of course it meant nothing. James was, understandably, getting bored with all the Earl-ish details. "I think I can give him the brush off. That was a lot to absorb in one day." When Winthrop came back from seeing Portia Murray out, Ryan addressed him before he had a chance to say anything else. "Nigel, I was wondering if you could go see about finding some people for the house. I think I really need a housekeeper, at least. And probably a cook and stuff. And I think my brain is about to explode from too much information for one day, okay?" Nigel seemed to stand a little straighter at the prospect of having a task to perform for the new Earl. "Of course, my lord. I've overtaxed you, and you're likely still jet-lagged. I shouldn't have let that infernal woman take up so much of your time. I shall telephone you in the morning with my progress. Is there anything you require before I leave you?" "No, I think I'm good. I can walk into town if James here gets sick of ferrying me around," he said, smiling. Winthrop bowed and, after collecting his papers and leaving most for Ryan to look over at his leisure, took his leave. Ryan waved to him, closing the front door behind him, and then turned to James. "I thought he'd never go." 54
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James smiled. "I know. He means well and all that, but he seems to think it's his life's purpose to make you into the Earl you should be." He glanced down at Ryan's clothes. "You're not going to start dressing in pinstriped suits and bowlers, are you?" he asked. Ryan snorted. "Uh, no. Ew. If nothing else, I intend to bring a little fashion sense to this burg. So, anything you wanna do? Play with the fancy electronics or something? Hang out and read one of the ten gazillion books? Work on the car?" He didn't care what it was, as long as he had some form of entertainment to keep James around. "Well, I don't really mind. I could show you around the town. You need some better clothes than that. We could rent some movies or something. There's no television reception to speak of, and I don't see a satellite receiver anywhere." He shrugged. "I don't mind. If you're tired, just say so and I'll get out of your hair." "Better?" he said with a horrified gasp. "I think you meant 'warmer' clothes, didn't you?" He smiled. "Yeah, that sounds awesome. And you're gonna need stuff from your place if you're gonna accidentally stay over too late to go home, right?" He hoped he wasn't being too forward, but the idea of staying in the huge castle alone was still a little intimidating. "I meant warmer, of course!" James assured him. "You'll let me know if you get sick of me, right? I don't want to overstay the Earl's welcome or anything." "Haha, the Earl commands your presence," he said, chuckling. "You know, unless you get bored or need to do something else. Totally don't feel you have to babysit me if 55
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you have stuff to do. But, if you don't it's kinda nice to have someone else here, especially someone cool. I have the feeling I'm not gonna relate to very many people here." He was trying not to get too attached to James, but it was difficult. "I like being here," James assured him. "I'm totally serious. You can command my presence any time." Ryan's eyebrows raised a little, but he didn't say anything. James probably didn't mean it as anything. "Cool. Let's go mingle with the natives and give them an eyeful of their new lord and master," he said. "We should probably take your car instead of mine, though. I'm not all about hanging out on the side of the road talking to sheep while you indulge your mechanical side." "The sheep are cute," James offered. "But yeah. I can pick up a couple things for the MG, too. It's really in great shape. He looked at Ryan's thin t-shirt. "You want to borrow my coat?" he asked. "I have my jacket until I can buy a sweater someplace. Is there anything around here that's not tweed or brown, you think?" He headed out to the foyer where he'd left his fuzzy jacket hanging on a hook by the door. He pulled it on, zipping it up, and headed out the door with James, sliding the key into his pocket. He got into James' car when he unlocked it, remembering to get in on the other side, and buckled his seat belt. James drove them to town, and proceeded to give Ryan a tour. It didn't take long, it was quite a small town. They ended up on the high street, and James found a parking 56
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place. "This is pretty much it for shopping in this town. There's a few shops were you might find a few things. We can take a longer trip into Aberdeen in a couple days, if you need anything else." They walked along the street, and the wind was starting to get up. Mostly, they looked like tourist traps. Ryan didn't want everyone to think he was a fool, but he needed something warm to wear. "What's Marks and Spencer's?" he asked, seeing a store that looked like a mini version of a department store. James steered them toward it. "It's a chain store. There's about a million of them, big ones in the cities, smaller ones in smaller towns. You might find something there, but it's mostly old lady and kid stuff." Ryan stepped inside, noticing that James held the door for him. He appreciated those little gestures. James would be an amazing boyfriend, he could tell. If he was into guys, that was. Instantly, Ryan was struck by the foreign-ness of everything. Everything seemed more compact and efficient, somehow. The displays, the aisles, the shopping baskets. He wandered through a small perfume and cosmetic section, nothing he would buy. Detergent and gasoline should be economical, not makeup. Beyond that were clothes, divided into children's, women's, and men's from left to right across the back of the store. Ryan made a show of heading towards the men's section, but something in the front of the women's section caught his eye. It looked like new merchandise, a charcoal gray sweater. He touched it and if felt like one of 57
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those stuffed animals they made for newborn babies. He nibbled his lip and looked at James, wondering if he would think that was too outrageous for the small town. "Feel this," he said, offering up a sleeve to convince the silent critic in his head that he was projecting onto his new friend. James reached out and touched the soft fabric, hand accidentally brushing against Ryan's in the process. "Very soft," he said. "Nice color." Ryan flipped through them and found an extra large and held it up against his chest. "I think that'll fit, don't you?" he asked. He looked down at the sweater and then up at James. "You know, just a couple of things so I don't freeze to death. I can order stuff online, too, but that might take a little while." James looked at the sweater. "Might be too big," he offered. Ryan smirked a little. He did tend to wear his clothes tight. He picked up a large instead and held it up, then looked up at James. "I guess I could try it on in the men's department, couldn't I?" he asked. "Or would that freak people out?" He wasn't sure what would rankle the locals. The only ones he'd even seen had been at the bar two nights before. James shrugged. "I don't see why not," he agreed. "It's not really that far away." He pointed out the men's dressing rooms just another section over. "Anything else in the women's department you want to try on?" he teased, smiling. Ryan picked up a pink and black striped sweater, and held it up against himself. "What do you think?" But it was wool, and Ryan wasn't sure about wool. It was one of those 58
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indeterminate things, like honey. Still, it was the sort of thing he would have had no problem wearing in Hollywood. James glanced down at the sweater, then back at Ryan. "I think it's a bit much. Though, of course, it would look great on you." Ryan put it down. "Yeah, looks too much like one I already have, though," he said with a wink. Then he slipped past James, quite close, and sashayed over to the men's department. The selections there were even more boring, and he found himself looking at the coats. There was one that seemed not too bad. Heavy black polar fleece. He picked one out and unzipped his fuzzy jacket, pulling it off and trying on the coat right in the aisle. It was very warm. "Mmm, I think I'll get one of these," he said, turning to James. "Does it look okay?" "A bit on the traditional side, but it will keep you warm," agreed James. "I think you should get it. They probably have scarves to match, too," he suggested. "Ooh, scarves are cute!" He pulled off the coat and hung it back up. "Would you find me one while I try on the sweater? I bet you'd look hot in a scarf, too." He grinned at James and headed off to the dressing room with the woman's sweater. Ryan stepped out, wearing the sweater, to look in the three-way mirror just as James walked in. The soft gray fabric clung to him without being tight. He pulled the sleeves down over his wrists and saw James in the mirror's reflection. "I think it looks okay." He folded his arms around him. "It's really cuddly." He'd never felt anything so soft. "It looks great," James said, a little hoarsely. 59
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He turned to face James and noticed the scarf in his hand. "Oh. Is that for me?" he asked, smiling at him. It was a nice scarf, just his kind of thing—pink and black like the sweater he hadn't chosen. "Yes," he said, holding it out. "To make up for not getting that other sweater," he explained. Ryan took the scarf and wrapped it around his neck, pulling his long hair out of it and letting it tumble freely down his back. He turned back to the mirror. "Definitely," he nodded. "It makes the outfit." He pulled the scarf off and slipped back into the booth to put his clothes back on. He came back out a moment later, carrying the sweater and scarf. "I think that'll take care of me for now." He took the coat off the rack and headed for the checkout. James waited while Ryan paid for his purchases, then said, "What else do you need?" "Don't you wanna stop at your place?" He definitely wanted James to stay again. "And maybe we could get some more groceries. You know, for a few days." He was also curious to see James' home. Where someone lived said a lot about them. James nodded. "We should go by my place. I probably smell bad by now, sorry." He smiled at Ryan. As they walked to the car again, Ryan smirked. "Yes, you're offending my aristocratic sensibilities." He laughed a little and got into the car. "You should bring some clothes to work on the car, too. I mean, if you want to. You know you can drop me at home and take off whenever, right? I might seem helpless, but I won't starve to death or anything if you 60
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abandon me," he sniffled like he was crying and wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. "What? And have that sort of thing on my conscience? Never," James smiled, driving them to his flat. The building had probably once been a single home, but it was now divided into four apartments. The gravel driveway crunched under the tires of the car as they pulled in. James led Ryan up a narrow, creaky set of stairs to a door marked '2'. He opened it with a key and turned to Ryan. "I have to warn you, it's small and cluttered." "Peasant," he scoffed. "I'll bet it's still bigger than my place in Hollywood was, though." There was something about James. He was just so easy to get along with. He'd never felt so instantly comfortable around another human being. James opened the door and reached in to flip the light switch. A fluorescent light flickered on to illuminate a small sitting room that held a beat-up beige couch and a small TV on a stand. The carpet was also beige, a different shade, and there were a couple of green pillows on the couch. The room was neat, and the walls were covered with posters of bands. Ryan looked around, blinking. If he hadn't been sure James was straight before, he was now. "Wow. That's a lot of neutrals. Cool posters." He moved around the room, examining them. "Neutrals?" James asked, confused. "What are neutrals and what's wrong with them?" He put his keys on a small table and went to look at his answering machine. The message light was blinking. 61
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"I mean beige. You're not really a decorator type, are ya?" he teased, taking a seat on the couch. "It's cool. It doesn't matter." "I feel I am being looked down upon," James joked. "But you know, I didn't intend to be here that long. And then, you, know..." He shrugged and pointed to the laptop on a small table in the corner. "That's the main place I am when I'm home, anyway." "Ooh, writing. You have to let me read something sometime." Ryan found the entire trip to James' place illuminating. "You're welcome to bring that in case I kidnap you for longer." He grinned at him. "Maybe I will. Okay, gimme a few minutes. I'm gonna shower and change. Feel free to watch TV or whatever. I'll be quick." "Take your time. My schedule is open today," he said, trying out a fake British accent. He picked up the remote control and started flipping through the channels. All four of them. James laughed and went into the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Ryan glanced at the bedroom door. There was nothing on TV, and he could hear the water running in the shower. James was naked in there, just a little ways away. He got up and wandered around what passed for a kitchen. He checked the fridge. There wasn't much there. "Hey for someone who likes to cook, you don't have much food in here," he called out. 62
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James into the living room, a towel wrapped around his hips. "I usually don't bother to cook for myself," he explained. Ryan's mouth went dry. James was shirtless and glistening moisture clung to his perfect, hairless chest. "Oh," he said, staring dumbly. "Nice ink," he said in a hoarse squeak. James' tattoos were less elaborate than his, and less extensive, but very attractive on his slim, pale torso and arms. James glanced down. "Thanks," he said, eyes a little wide. "I'll just go get dressed," he said, turning and walking back into the bedroom quickly. "Yeah. Clothes are good," he said softly. He looked away and shook his head. He rubbed his hands over his face, hoping he hadn't made James uncomfortable. After a few moments, James walked back out again, fully dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt. He carried a duffel bag. By the time James came back, Ryan was under control of his reactions again. "They have crappy television here," he commented. "I think I mentioned that," James answered as he began to pack up his laptop. "Which is why we should get some DVD's." He smiled over at Ryan. "So what do you want for dinner? I can cook most anything. Or bluff my way through it." "Is there a video store in town?" Ryan stood up and stuffed his hands down in his pockets. He couldn't think of what he wanted to eat. He was still a little stunned by the image of James in a towel.
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"We have an actual Blockbuster," answered James, zipping up his bag. "I was so surprised when I saw it. Not a great selection, but better than nothing!" "Wow. A real Blockbuster. No porn, though," he said with a shrug. "What kind of movies do you like?" he asked. "Blockbusters don't have porn," James answered automatically, then blushed. "Not that I've checked. Um. I like scary movies, usually. Suspense. Things like that. What about you?" "I love scary movies. Did you ever see The Ring? That scared the hell out of me," he said. "But yeah. I knew Blockbuster has no porn, 'cause I have checked," he laughed. "I loved the Ring. Too bad there aren't many that good. I'm sure we'll find something. I don't mind watching something good twice." "Cool. I'd watch something a second time, too. God knows I've seen Edward Scissorhands a few dozen times," he smirked. "Ready to go? DVDs and food, right?" It felt strangely like some weird sort of slumber party, but it made him almost frighteningly happy that James was going to hang out for another evening. "Sounds perfect to me," James said. He stopped just as they were about to walk out the door. "You'll tell me if you get sick of me, right?" he said softly. They way James looked at him made Ryan's heart skip a beat. "Sure. Although I don't see that happening." He smiled warmly at him and held open the door. It was definitely too late. He already had a serious crush on James. He sighed a 64
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little as he headed back down the narrow stairs. Well, it wasn't the first time he'd had a crush on a straight boy. James locked the door and followed Ryan back to his car. He opened the door for Ryan once again, and got in himself. He drove to the Blockbuster, which was just like one in the US except smaller with no parking lot. Ryan didn't really notice any of the drawbacks. He was excited to procure some entertainment and he nearly bounced up the steps. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should put on his new coat, but it didn't seem too chilly. He returned to the car and grabbed the scarf out of the bag, pulled the price tag off, and wrapped it around his throat. By then James was waiting for him at the door and he hurried to join him inside. "Sorry," he said, slipping in past him. James smiled at Ryan's enthusiasm, and they wandered around the store. "See anything you like?" James said, scanning the titles for something new that looked interesting. The store was fairly deserted this time of day. Ryan perused the new releases section critically. "I haven't seen The Aviator yet. Have you? I saw White Noise, but it was really good. I'd watch that again." He held both the boxes up and looked at James questioningly. "I haven't seen either of those," James said. "Let's get them both. That way, if one sucks we have something else to watch." He smiled. "Anything else? I wonder if there's any video game systems in your castle." "I have no idea. It seemed like that big TV had everything, though, didn't it? There was a cabinet underneath it with 65
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components. I just didn't mess with it. We could rent some games and see." As they wandered over to the games section, two of the clerks gaped at them, and whispered among themselves. Ryan looked over at them and smiled. James followed Ryan's gaze and rolled his eyes. "You'll have to get used to that, I'm afraid. News travels fast in this town." Ryan shrugged as he looked over the games. "I don't mind." He looked up at James and grinned a little evilly. "You might not have noticed but I have a tiny, tiny little exhibitionist streak." He gave him a wink and picked up a couple of games, a racing one and a fighting one. James' eyes widened. "You're not gonna start stripping in the middle of the store, are you?" Ryan burst out laughing. "Nooo, it's way too cold for that," he said, laughing. "But I would if you really wanted me to," he added. "Or if you dared me. I have an issue with dares. Like gambling." "I'll keep that in mind," James said, noncommittal. They paid for the movies, then headed for the grocery store. As they walked in, James said, "I hope you've decided what you want." "Hmmm, can you do falafel?" At the suggestion, Ryan's stomach started to growl. He was hungrier than he'd thought. He took one of the small baskets and started collecting fruit and veggies just to have around.
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"Sure," James answered. "If they have the right kind of beans. How hot do you like it?" He walked up and down the aisles, picking out things as they occurred to him. "Hm, kinda medium, probably." He wandered the aisles behind James, holding the basket in both hands. "Ooh, chocolate soy milk," he said, taking one. James glanced back. "Maybe we need a cart instead of a basket," he said, eyeing the overflowing basket. "You do need to stock up, after all." Ryan agreed and went back to get a cart. He put the whole basket inside it and then wheeled back over to James. "Okay. It looks like at least I won't starve." They picked out a few more things and Ryan took everything up to the register. Armed with warm clothes, DVDs and food, they headed back to the castle. They unloaded their purchases and carried them into the huge house. James unpacked the groceries and put on coffee. It was all so strangely domestic, but Ryan liked it. He'd never had a live-in boyfriend, but he imagined this was what it would be like. Ryan took the videos and the games into the drawing room and sat in front of all the electronics, trying to figure them out. James got dinner going, then walked into the drawing room with two steaming mugs of coffee. He set them down carefully on the table and came to sit next to Ryan. He leaned close and peered at the multiple components and said, "Any luck?" Ryan tossed a controller at him with a cheeky grin. "Of course. I might not know a carburetor from a catalytic 67
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converter, but anything with audio and video jacks and I'm all over it." James caught it and quickly familiarized himself with the buttons. "You do realize you're gonna get your cute ass kicked, don't you?" Ryan never let a compliment about his ass go unanswered. "Ooh. You do realize I might enjoy that, right?" he said, giggling. He punched a couple of buttons on the universal remote control pad and the screen flickered to life. James blushed and looked down at the controller. He stammered, "Um. I mean..." James' blush was utterly adorable, but it reminded Ryan that James didn't mean it that way. "Of course, maybe it'll be your cute ass that gets whooped," he smirked. And James' ass was most definitely cute. Ryan had noticed on more than one occasion. James smirked, regaining some composure. "I doubt it. There isn't a driving game I can't win," he said, putting the game CD into the console. He looked over at Ryan. "Prepare to lose." Ryan thought that his chances of winning a driving game were probably slim, but then he rarely rented those kind. But he wasn't going to tell James that. "Pride goes before a fall," he said, settling himself cross-legged in front of the screen. The game began, and the opening credits played. James looked over at Ryan. "I'll choose an easy track to start with," he said as he chose his car. He customized the car quickly, then it was Ryan's turn to choose a car. 68
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Ryan was impressed at how deftly James navigated the game. He chose a car of his own, his thumbs moving with restless anxiety over the controls. Finally the race was set to begin, and the lights turned green. Ryan floundered to keep up almost from the beginning. A few wide turns left him stopped at the side of the road, overcompensating to spin back on the track and head in the right direction. James spared a glance at the map, and snickered when he saw how far behind Ryan was. "Now whose ass is in danger?" he teased. Ryan frowned, pouting a little. "I just need to get used to this game," he protested. James pulled across the finish line and triumphant music played. He looked over at Ryan and grinned. "Well, let's try it again, then, shall we?" He leaned close. "I can take it easy on you if you like." "Arrogant prick. Start it up again," he said. James raised an eyebrow, and started the game again. "You choose the track this time," he said. He kept the same car. "And you might want to pick a different car. That one isn't good for beginners." Ryan laughed. "Fine. What car should I pick?" he asked. He scooted a little closer to James on the floor and picked what looked like a simple track. James looked at the screen as Ryan went through the cars. "Keep going through ... wait, go back ... no, not that one." With a small noise of impatience he leaned over and put his hands on Ryan's, directing him to the right car. 69
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Ryan glanced sideways at James. The way he got impatient and frustrated was kind of cute. "Thanks," he said softly. James smiled at Ryan. "Just want you to have a chance," he said, then pulled back. "Ready?" "As ready as I'll ever be," he said. James hit start and they were off. He drove a little less aggressively this time, and Ryan was doing better, but it still wasn't close at all. After Ryan crashed spectacularly, he mused, "Remind me never to let you drive." Ryan laughed again. "Yeah, you and all my family and friends." He shook his head a little. "I don't really drive that bad." He produced a different game, and waved it around. "Best of five?" he asked, since he'd already lost two. James looked at the fighting game. "Why not? What does the winner get?" "Hmm. Um ... What do you want if you win?" he asked, tipping his head to the side. "Um ... I don't know. What do you want?" Ryan thought about it for a minute. "Okay, if I win, you cook me dinner here for a week on the days you're not working." He smiled shyly. He didn't think it was too selfish. James seemed to like to cook, and he said he didn't do it just for himself. "I was planning to do that anyway," he said. "You might starve otherwise." Ryan laughed. "Okay, so that was easy. You're probably having difficulty thinking of something because I seem useless." He grinned. "But I can actually do some things. Um. 70
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I'm really good at backrubs. Um. And manicures. Aaaannd. Hm. Singing. Maybe I am kinda useless." James just stared at him for a long moment. "I'll take the backrub," he said. "I'll need it after working on your car." "Wow, so it's a win-win for me," he said. He popped the new disk in and started the game up, choosing his character. The game started and it was obvious that Ryan had a lot more experience with this type. He attacked madly, pushing buttons like a man possessed. James was not bad at fighting games, but they weren't his specialty. Ryan was either very good, or extraordinarily lucky. Soon, James was desperately defending himself, and it wasn't looking like he was going to win a backrub. Within a few minutes, Ryan dealt the death blow to James' warrior in a haze of blood spurting everywhere. "Yesss," Ryan said, laughing and bumping James' shoulder. "Fuck," muttered James. "You're too good at this. Best of five, though," he reminded him, and restarted the game. "You're goin' down," he said, flexing his fingers. He almost felt like he was still home. The game started again and he was off. James seemed to have recovered from the initial onslaught, however, and Ryan found his warrior stumbling a little. James was warming up a little, getting used to his character. But it wasn't good enough. Ryan's warrior stunned James', and before he could get up Ryan was on him, finishing him off. "You're brutal!" he complained as his character's lifeblood flowed away. 71
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"Well, I had to make up for my inferior driving skills," Ryan said, still giggling. "Last chance for redemption," he said, wiggling his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his opponent. "Ready? Or do you need a minute?" he teased. James frowned good-naturedly. "I'm so ready," he shot back, starting the next game as he jostled Ryan's arm deliberately. Ryan started off strong as he had in the other two games, but he couldn't help thinking about massaging those straight shoulders. He wasn't trying to lose, but the image broke his concentration just a little. By then James figured out his character's super combo almost by accident, and after applying it twice, Ryan's character was dead. James stared at the screen. "I won!" he said wonderingly. Ryan gasped. "You bitch!" he said, laughing with surprise. Then he covered his mouth with his hand. "I mean. Good game." He flushed a little, because he knew what was next. "So you want it now? Or after dinner while we're watching a movie?" he asked. "I think we should have dinner first," he suggested. "I just have to mix the falafel, and warm the pitas. Are you hungry?" He set the controller down. "Yeah. Starving. Losing always makes me hungry," he said. He climbed to his feet and held out his hand to James. "We can just eat in here, right? That dining room is kinda intimidating."
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"It's your house," James said, accepting Ryan's hand and standing up. "You can do whatever you want." He stood still, face just inches from Ryan's while he got his balance. "Yeah, but you're the guest," he said softly. "This room, even though it's so huge, seems like the coziest one. Maybe it's the fireplace. I don't know." He shrugged, looking down. "I like this room a lot," James agreed. He stepped back a little. "Come on, come help me get everything together." He smiled. "I'm starving, too. Of course, I'm always starving." Ryan followed James into the kitchen. They prepared the falafel together, and made their way back to the drawing room. They sat on the floor again, behind the low table. James watched Ryan as he tried the falafel. "Is it all right? Not too hot?" "Mm, delicious," he said around a mouthful of food. He smiled at James and cued up the movie, hitting play. They settled in to watch the movie, which neither of them had seen. They soon found that they had similar tastes in humor, and they were soon making comments and criticisms to the screen. When he finished the delicious meal, Ryan sat back against the couch, stretching his arms above his head, then patted his flat belly. He turned to look at James for a moment. "Thanks for dinner," he said softly and sincerely. "Any time," James answered happily. "I'll cook for you, even without the bet." He stretched, too. "Let's pause the movie so I can put stuff away, okay? You want coffee or tea?"
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Ryan paused the movie and helped James clear the stuff away. "Tea is good." He followed him into the kitchen and started washing dishes while James put the leftovers away. They finished cleaning up and went back into the other room with steaming mugs of coffee and tea. Ryan started the movie again and took one of the cushions off the couch, tossing it on the floor in front of the TV. "Lie down there," he said, smiling. "Um, okay," he said, eyeing the pillow. "On my stomach? Should I take my shirt off?" Ryan's eyes widened a little. He hadn't really expected that, but he certainly didn't mind. "If you feel comfortable taking your shirt off, by all means, go for it. Yeah, on your stomach." With an effort, he avoided licking his lips at the thought. James nodded, pulled off his t-shirt, and draped it across the arm of the couch. Then, seemingly oblivious to Ryan's gaze, he kneeled on the floor, his back to the other man, and lay down with his arms crossed on the pillow. He rested his head on his arms and looked back at Ryan. "Like this?" Ryan nodded. "Just like that." He crawled across the floor and straddled James' ass. "Just relax, okay? And if anything doesn't feel good, don't be shy." He rubbed his hands together for a moment to warm them, and then lightly placed them on James' bare shoulders. His skin was warm and smooth, and Ryan started to slowly massage his muscles. "God that feels good," James moaned, his voice deep and rough. 74
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James' voice did things to Ryan. He felt the low vibration through James' body and his own like a ripple through a still pool of water. And it made him think of other ways he'd like to make James moan. His hands slowly worked downward, kneading the tense muscles of James' back, circling his thumbs in broad, firm circles down either side of his spine. Before he realized it, he started to get seriously aroused. Ryan wriggled a little further down James' body until he was straddling his thighs. He worked his fingers deeply into the muscles of his lower back, keeping his touch just firm enough that he wouldn't tickle. He worked his way back up very gradually, rubbing all of James' back in a steady sweeping motion. God, it felt so good to touch him. Ryan's heart pounded like a drum, and he swallowed hard. Ryan sighed a little, lost in his own thoughts—fantasies about how James would tackle him to the carpet and roll on top of him and kiss him. Suddenly he felt a very hard shove against his right shoulder, hard enough to dislodge and toss him onto the carpet beside James. James, who was still lying on his stomach, looking like he was two seconds away from falling asleep. "What the hell?" James lifted his head quickly, opening his eyes, looking around in confusion. "What? What happened?" He turned his head to see Ryan sprawled on the floor next to him. "Are you okay?" Ryan leaned up on his elbows. "Something pushed me. It was like there was a hand on my shoulder." He rubbed the shoulder in question, but there was clearly no one else in the room. 75
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James glanced around. "It felt like someone pushed you? How weird. Are you sure you didn't just slip?" Ryan sat up more. "No. I didn't slip. Something definitely pushed me." He looked around the room. "If there's a ghost in here, I don't believe in ghosts, so you're kinda wasting your time, you know?" He rolled over onto his stomach next to James and propped his chin in his hands. "I guess if someplace was gonna be haunted, this would be it, huh?" "It is haunted, I told you that. The locals swear by it." He looked around the room. "There are several different ghosts here, apparently. One of them is supposed to be able to make things move." "Oh yeah. I remember. But I totally don't believe in ghosts, except..." He turned his head to look into James' eyes. "Someone really pushed me, James. I swear." He realized how close they were, and he couldn't help but lick his lips, and just slightly press his hips down against the carpeted floor. "I believe you," James answered, looking into Ryan's eyes. "Are you sure you're all right?" he whispered. "Yeah. It was nothing. It's no big deal. I'm sure it won't happen again." He sounded more sure of that than he really felt. It was something to think about, certainly. He turned his attention back to the movie. He leaned a little closer to James and whispered, "Was the backrub okay?" "God, yes," James said. "I mean, yeah. It was great. I'll have to work hard to win more of those." Ryan smiled as he watched the screen. He sat up again, leaning back against the side of the couch with his knees 76
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drawn up to his chest. He had to get rid of the little butterfly feeling in his stomach. This wasn't good. Being aroused, well, he couldn't help that. James was just appealing. But the silly, hopeful infatuation had to be killed right away. He sighed a little, trying to keep his eyes off James' still half-naked body lying in front of him. Although he knew he should stop, he couldn't help himself. "Come sit over here. I'll rub your back some more if you want." He really just wanted to touch him again, and this was the only way he could. He might not get another chance for a long time, although James didn't seem phobic about it, at least. "You sure you want to risk pissing off the ghost again?" joked James, sitting up. "Oh, it would just figure that I'd have a repressed, homophobic ghost, wouldn't it?" he asked, with a laugh, instantly regretting drawing a comparison between backrubs and gayness. He turned sideways a little and put his hands on James' back again. He could almost feel the tenseness that seemed to have returned since he stopped rubbing the first time. The position was awkward, but he wasn't quite bold enough to ask James to settle his fine body between his thighs. A small sound escaped James once again. "I could get used to this." Ryan's first impulse was to push. Flirt more, see how far it would go. But this wasn't Hollywood, and there weren't another half dozen gorgeous boys lingering around, waiting to be proven not-completely-straight. And he really, really liked James, way too much. It gave him pause. "Whenever you 77
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want a backrub, all you have to do is ask," he said softly, massaging James' muscles. He was still partially aroused from before, and again the moan ... it was torture, but he was doing it to himself, he knew. "I'll do that," James whispered, leaning into the touch. "Don't tire your hands out," he added, moaning again. It was so tempting, so easy to just lean in a little closer, and rest his cheek against James' shoulder as his hands moved lower down his back. "I won't," he said softly. And he might have touched someone just this way and meant nothing remotely sexual by it. He liked to touch people. Except in this case he was ragingly hard. James' breath hitched. "You're very good at this," he moaned. "I'm really glad we met, Ryan." Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. It was too late. He was already completely infatuated. There was nothing to be done about it, other than hope against hope. His hands lingered on James' lower back, thumbs circling restlessly into the soft skin. "Me, too," he whispered. His fingers rested just at James' waist and then, almost without meaning to, his hands slid around, pinky fingers just skimming the edge of James' belt. And then everything went black and silent. Ryan raised his head and pulled away. "Oh," he said softly. "What the fuck?" James gasped. The room was completely dark. Not even a sliver of light from the hallway. The power was out, clearly. "I think there's a flashlight in the kitchen somewhere," James suggested. 78
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Ryan gasped when he felt James' hand on his thigh for a moment before they were suddenly holding hands. "Oh. Okay." He struggled to a kneeling position, still holding James' hand. "We should go together." He spoke barely above a whisper, mostly because everything seemed so freakishly quiet. He released James' hand to pull himself to his feet, and when he reached for him again, his fingers brushed against his denim-clad hip. They were suddenly standing much closer than he'd thought, and he could feel the warmth from James' skin. "You should put your shirt on. It might be cold wherever we have to explore for the fuse box," he whispered. James laughed. "I would if I knew where the hell it was," he replied. "Let's go find that flashlight first. I'm fine for now. Stay with me," he said, squeezing Ryan's hand and pulling him closer. "I don't want to lose you in here." Stay with me, he'd said. As if Ryan could have been dragged away from him by a pack of snarling hounds straight from hell. "Okay. Let's go around the couch this way, and then I think it's a straight shot to the door," he said quietly. He edged up to the couch, holding James' hand in both of his behind his back, and then took small steps around the end of it. He frowned at himself as he thought that maybe he could stop short or stumble backwards just to feel what it was like to press up against him completely. James edged along behind Ryan, stubbing his toe on the table. "Ow. Watch out for the table," he suggested, stretching his arm out to see if any other obstacles might jump into their 79
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path. "Maybe I should go first. I don't want you to hurt yourself." Ryan smiled in the dark. "We're almost in the clear," he said. He reached back for James' other hand and placed them on his hips so James was directly behind him. "I'll go slowly." He was almost willing his t-shirt to ride up so he could feel James' fingers on his skin. He was a sad, sad individual. Then he was around the end table. He reached out to touch the back of the couch as a reference point and took small steps in the direction of the door. James' thumbs slid into Ryan's belt loops easily as they shuffled along. "The room seems so much bigger now." Ryan laughed a little, hands out in front of him, reaching for the door. "Yeah, just don't think about the fucking dining room," he said, snorting. He felt something solid in front of him and slowed to a stop as he fumbled for the door handle. He found it and opened the door. The great gaping emptiness of the foyer loomed blankly in front of him. "You're sure you saw a flashlight in the kitchen, right?" "Um, I think so," said James. "But maybe there are candles. There have to be candles." Ryan made his way with painstaking slowness across the entry hall. It was disconcerting, because he had no idea how far he actually had to go. When he thought he was about halfway, his foot caught on a rug he hadn't noticed and he started to fall, pitching forward. James stepped forward and grabbed Ryan around the waist as he fell. He braced his legs to take Ryan's weight, 80
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pulling the slim man back against him. One hand went under Ryan's shirt, touching smooth, soft skin. Ryan whimpered before he could help himself. James' arms were much stronger than they looked and suddenly he was pressed fully back against that lean body. James' hand was touching him—firm, secure. He found his feet and supported himself quickly, although he didn't pull away. "Whoa," he said softly. "Watch out for the floor." He made a mental note never to move that rug. "Are you all right?" James said. Ryan's hands came to rest on James' arms. "Yeah. I'm fine." Frustrated and half-crazed with lust, but otherwise not too bad, he thought wryly. "My hero," he added with a little smirk. Just for a second he indulged the crazy fantasies in his head and relaxed back against him, feeling the solidness of James' body supporting him. But then he straightened up. "Sorry," he whispered. He was could feel he was blushing fiercely, but in the dark that was his own business. "It's okay," said James faintly. He stepped back. "Nothing to be sorry about." He slid his hand down Ryan's arm to his hand, and placed it on his hip. "You follow me, now, okay?" Ryan slid around behind James and put both hands on his hips. "Okay." If James tripped and Ryan had to catch him, James would know exactly how Ryan's body was reacting to all this intimate closeness in the dark. It was all he could do to keep his hands still on that perfect body he'd touched all evening. They shuffled down the hallway toward the kitchen. The floor felt much more uneven than it had when there was light, 81
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but they made it without further incident to the double kitchen doors. James pushed them open, making sure Ryan got through behind him before they swung shut. "Okay, now here's the tricky part," he said. He moved toward the cabinets, his hands stretched out in front of him. "There's a tricky part? I thought it was all a piece of cake," he quipped. He kept close behind him, letting James steer them around the kitchen. "Of course, after we find some light we have to actually figure out where the fuse box might be." Ryan reached out to the counter, and pulled out a drawer, feeling gingerly around inside it. "You know, I thought I did see some candles, too, come to think of it." James found the cabinet he was looking for. "Okay. I think it's here. But I have to lean down," he warned Ryan, bending over and fumbling for the handle to the door. "It's in the lower cabinet. I think." Ryan let go of him completely and backed away like he was going to be burnt when James bent over. All he needed was for that perfect ass to press against him and he'd moan out loud. He occupied himself with fumbling around in the drawer for candles. "Be careful," he warned. James laughed as he felt around in the cabinet, kneeling. "Yeah, there could be more ghosts lurking in the cabinets," he teased. He rummaged around. "I think I found it," he said excitedly. He was still on his knees on the floor, and the flashlight came on right in his face, blinding him for a moment. "Yes!" he cried triumphantly. Ryan squinted at the sudden illumination. "Cool. We should find some candles, too, just in case." He held out his hand to 82
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help James up, and it occurred to him that there was no need to hold onto each other anymore. His smile faded at that thought. James let Ryan help him up, and shone the flashlight around. "Okay, you want to look in drawers while I hold the flashlight? Then we can try to find the fuse box." He glanced down at himself. "And maybe my shirt," he grinned sheepishly. "Yeah," he said, opening drawers. He found matches easily enough, but then he had an idea. "Ooh, dining room." He closed the drawers and waited for James to lead the way with the light. Sure enough, there were a number of candlesticks positioned on the buffet. Ryan took one and smiled at James. "Shirt? Or fuses?" he asked. Personally, he would be content for James to go without a shirt all the time. "I think shirt first. The fuse box is probably in the cellar or some place equally cold." He led the way back to the drawing room. He easily found his shirt, and handed the flashlight to Ryan while he pulled it on. Feeling the loss of closeness, Ryan scanned up and down James' body with the flashlight, teasingly. "Oh, you're putting clothes back on. Sorry." He sighed dramatically, then grinned. James poked his head through the neck of the t-shirt and gaped at Ryan. "Maybe after we get the power, and the heat, back on, I'll take it off again," he teased. He put his arms through and pulled the shirt down. Ryan gasped and hit James lightly on the shoulder. "In less than two days I've turned you into a tease. That's not good." He handed him back the flashlight. "No more toying with me. 83
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Let's find the fuse box." He didn't light the candle yet, since they had the flashlight. James grinned at Ryan mischievously. "I've never been accused of being a tease before," he joked as he led the way to the cellar doors. Ryan followed close behind him. James' little smile was permanently burned into his memory, and he couldn't help smiling himself. In the light from the flashlight, the castle looked incredibly scary. Huge shadows loomed just beyond the pool of light. He slipped his fingers lightly around James' arm, just above the elbow. "I think this is it," James said, whispering. He unlatched the door and pushed it open. The air emanating was cool and damp, but not unpleasant. The wooden stairs appeared to march into the darkness. "You ready?" he said softly, looking back at Ryan. Ryan let go of James' arm. "It's only stairs," he said. He didn't want James to think he was a complete wuss, even though he was enjoying the whole protective thing. He followed him down slowly, one at a time. "I hope this doesn't happen a lot." James shrugged. "An old house like this, could happen all the time. Though I would have thought the Earl would have had the electricity redone, you know. Since he had all the fancy shit installed." They reached the bottom of the stairs and found themselves on a rough dirt floor. James moved the flashlight around, looking for what might be a fuse box or breaker box. 84
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Ryan felt something crawl across his foot, and nearly jumped into the air. He ran into James' back and flung his arms around him from behind. "Fuck," he hissed. Almost instantly he relaxed and backed off. "Sorry, I think it was a mouse. Or something." He shivered, hugging his arms around himself. James stifled a grin. "It's fine, feel free to pounce on me without warning again. I'm getting used to it." He moved slowly along. This was no fancy wine cellar—it looked like no one had been down here in years. Ryan sighed. But then something caught his eye. He took hold of James' wrist holding the flashlight and pointed it towards a box on the wall under the stairs. "Is that it?" he asked. He wasn't just making excuses to touch James. Really. "It could be," James said. They moved closer, and sure enough there was a steel box affixed to the wall that looked much newer than its surroundings. He swept aside the cobwebs and pulled the box open. "Yes!" he said, as he was faced with row upon row of circuit breaker switches. The top one, the main power switch, was obviously tripped. "Rad," Ryan said, flipping the switch. There was a distant humming sound, like the house was coming back to life. There was a faint glow of light spilling down the stairs, probably from the outside lights shining in the kitchen windows. "Much better," he said, heading back up the stairs, feeling much more confident in his footing even with so little light. James lingered for a moment, studying the breakers. "Weird," he said, finally shutting the metal door and starting 85
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after Ryan. "I wonder why that happened anyway. Individual breakers will usually go before the main one. It's like a last ditch thing." Ryan paused at the top of the stairs to wait for him. He knew very little about electricity. "Really?" He shrugged. "Maybe a ghost did it," he said, laughing a little. He could hear the distant crackle of static from the over-sized television in the distance. James frowned. "I was kinda thinking that earlier," he admitted. "Don't tell anyone, though." He closed the cellar door. "I wonder if you shouldn't have someone out to have a look at it." "Yeah. I'll tell Nigel tomorrow. I think he's coming by to give me a full report on the Earldom." He suppressed a yawn. "I've totally lost all track of the movie. Do you wanna just go to bed?" he suggested. "Maybe we could try it again tomorrow or something." James glanced at his watch. "Wow, it's late. Yeah, maybe we should just turn in." They were back in the drawing room, and James picked up a remote and turned off the huge television, which was now showing snow. Ryan bent over and picked up the pillow, tossing it back onto the couch. They headed back upstairs and got ready for bed, taking turns in the washroom. Ryan changed into pajamas and settled himself in the huge pink bed, yawning again. "Good night, James," he called out. "Night, Ryan," James answered from the next room. Ryan fell asleep quickly. Normally, he slept quite soundly, but something made him stir a while later. He felt inexplicably 86
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cold. He rolled onto his back and his eyes fluttered open. There, at the foot of his bed was a spectre. A man, staring down at him. He sat bolt upright, and let out a sound of fright, almost jumping out of bed and dashing to the adjoining door. "James," he whispered loudly. James sat upright quickly. "Mmmwhat?" he mumbled. "Ryan? Are you all right?" "There's a man in my room." He looked back over at the bed, but the ghost was gone. "Or there was." Now that James was awake he spoke at a normal pitch. "He was standing right there, staring at me." His heart beat a mile a second, and he shook like a leaf. "A man?" James jumped up out of the bed and ran past Ryan into the master bedroom. He looked around wildly. "No one could have gotten in, the doors were all locked." "I-I think it was a ghost. He was kind of glowing a little, but I could see him as clearly as I can see you!" He hugged his arms around himself. "Could I sleep in your room with you? I can sleep on the floor. You won't even know I'm there." James' mouth dropped open. "You saw a ghost? Like, a real manifestation? Did it do anything? Say anything?" "No. He was just standing there glowering at me. I was cold suddenly and I opened my eyes and there he was." He looked at James, more grateful than ever for his presence. James pulled the other man into his arms and held him close. "Of course you can sleep with me," he whispered into Ryan's hair. "But not on the floor." 87
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Ryan whimpered a little, and accepted the comfort James offered. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything. I don't mind the floor, really." But it was so warm in James' arms, and suddenly he felt safe again. "You could never make me uncomfortable," James replied, stroking Ryan's hair soothingly. He stepped back just enough to take Ryan's hand, and led him out of the room and into his. "Come on. There's plenty of room." He tugged him over to the bed. Ryan followed. It was a cruel twist of fate that he'd found the perfect guy and he was straight. Ryan just wanted to curl up in James' arms and stay there forever. He'd never felt like this with anyone. He gave him a wan smile and slid under the covers on the opposite side from where James had obviously been sleeping. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I really appreciate this." "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't protect you from the ghosts?" James joked. "Wake me if you need me, okay?" "Okay," he said, settling into the overstuffed pillow. A friend. Yeah, that's all they were. They'd only met. He was putting expectations on something that was way too fragile to bear the weight. He sighed a little, forcing himself to stop thinking about James and just try to sleep. He rolled over on his side, facing away from the other man. The bed was definitely big enough. There was no need for them to touch or even be near each other. And he was so tired. After a couple of minutes he drifted off again, ghost forgotten. [Back to Table of Contents] 88
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Chapter Four Ryan slept more soundly than he had the night before. He wasn't used to sharing a bed with someone else, but he found it was comforting. Slowly, over the course of the night, he moved closer, seeking out the warmth of James' side of the bed. By the time the first weak rays of pre-dawn started lightening the edges of the curtains, Ryan was up against James' side, his cheek pressed against his shoulder, his palm flat against James' bicep. It was some time later that Ryan roused. He took a deep breath, nuzzling against the warm skin. He felt compelled to kiss that shoulder, but something in the back of his mind prevented him. His eyes fluttered open slowly, but for a moment it didn't strike him as odd. James was looking at him. "Morning," he smiled. Ryan's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He eased back just a little, but James didn't seem disgusted or upset about the fact that he was nearly molesting him. "Morning," he whispered. "I didn't keep you awake, did I?" he asked. He wriggled back a little. There were parts of him that he definitely didn't want to touch James just at that moment. "Not at all," James answered. "I slept perfectly. I take it you're a cuddler when you sleep." Ryan could feel his face burning. "Uh, I guess. I don't know. I haven't really slept in the same bed with someone in a while." Like years, he added silently with a sigh. He rolled 89
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away, embarrassed, and rubbed his hands over his face. He was lucky that James was so tolerant. "It's okay," James insisted, rolling onto his side to face Ryan. "Please don't be upset. I liked it." He reached out and put his hand on Ryan's arm. "You did?" He looked over at James. This boy was going to drive him completely insane. He gave him a weak smile. "I'm, um, gonna go have a shower. Nigel will probably be here soon." He gently disentangled himself from James' touch and slid out of bed, padding back into his own room. He was halftempted to tell James exactly what he was doing to him, how his sweetness and joking around tormented Ryan. But in the end he decided just to keep quiet. He didn't want to push James away, even if keeping him close was maddening. **** Nigel had let himself in. He headed for the kitchen first, to make himself a cup of tea. He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when he saw a half-naked young bartender standing there, obviously just out of bed, hair sticking up everywhere. He scowled deeply. "Mr. Montgomery, isn't it?" James looked up in surprise. "Yeah, hi, um, Nigel. Did we not lock the front door?" He pushed his hair out of his eyes and added, "I'm making coffee. Want some?" Nigel arched an eyebrow, pursing his lips primly. "No thank you. I shall just put the kettle on for tea, if you don't mind." As he filled the kettle from the tap and put it on the burner of the stove, he continued, "Are you taking up residence at the castle? Or just passing through?" 90
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The coffee was just beginning to brew, and James took out two mugs. He shrugged. "Ryan asked me to stay. I took him around to some shops yesterday so he could get some stuff he needed." He poured the coffee. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bring Ryan his coffee. I'll tell him you're here. There's no need for you to go sneaking into his room again." Nigel sputtered and gaped at James. "I was not." He shut his mouth abruptly and ground his teeth. "I have only the Earl's best interests at heart. I hardly think it's out of line to inquire about someone he's only just met spending the last two nights here." James smirked and picked up the two mugs of coffee. "Maybe you should be asking him, then," he said mildly, walking past the man and out the door. He walked up the stairs and approached the bathroom. "Hey, Ryan, you out yet? I have coffee." **** Ryan had just finished shaving, and was combing out the ends of his hair. He wrapped a towel around his hips and opened the door. "Yeah. Sorry I took so long," he said, peering out of the steamy bathroom. "Oh, thanks." He stepped forward, accepted the mug with a smile, and took a sip. James' gaze flicked down Ryan's body, lingering on his slim hips wrapped in a small towel. "Wow," he said. Ryan looked down at himself, and realized James was saying wow about the rest of his tattoos. "Oh. Yeah," he said. "They're addictive." He gave a little shrug and pushed a lock 91
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of wet hair back over his shoulder. "Do you need to use the bathroom?" he asked, taking another sip of coffee. James blinked and said, "Yeah, but take your time. Oh, and Frostyballs is here again. Let himself in and sneaked up on me in the kitchen. Scared the hell out of me. He seemed surprised to see me still here. I imagine he will interrogate you about it." Ryan leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. "Oh. Why should he care if you're here or not?" He didn't think it mattered. Unless ... "You don't think he thinks..." Ryan's eyes widened and he nibbled his bottom lip. "Well, not that it's any of his business, anyway, but I'll make sure he knows it's not..." He blushed and took another sip of his coffee. James interrupted. "I don't care what he thinks," he said pointedly. He looked into Ryan's eyes evenly. It really seemed like James liked him. If he wasn't so sure James was straight, he'd almost have hope. "Okay. I guess I should get down there and talk to him." He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered past where James was standing. "When do you have to work?" he asked. They hadn't really discussed it, but Ryan knew he was going to have to leave at some point. James wrinkled his nose. "Three," he said. "I should leave by half past two." He began to unbutton his jeans in preparation for taking a shower. "Have fun with Nigel," he added, grinning. Before James disappeared into the bathroom, Ryan turned to him again. "Wait. Are you, um, are you gonna come back here after work?" he asked. Suddenly the prospect of being 92
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alone in the castle loomed large before him, along with being out of James' presence for an extended period of time. James stuck his head back out the door. "If you want," he said, smiling. "I'd like to." He looked at Ryan again for a long moment, gaze flicking down to the towel again. Ryan smiled sweetly at him. "Yeah. I want." He blushed again and turned back to the business of finding clothes to wear. He got dressed quickly, putting on his new sweater and a pair of black jeans, tying back his wet hair. He took his mug of coffee and went downstairs to see Nigel. The solicitor was standing stiffly in the drawing room when Ryan arrived. "My lord," he said, sketching a small bow. "Good morning. I trust all is well?" "Hi, Nigel. Everything's okay, except the power went out last night. And," he took a sip of his coffee again, "I saw a ghost." The man was in the process of sipping his tea and he almost choked. "G-ghosts? My Lord. I hope you don't believe all that nonsense." He looked a little pale. "Well, yeah. I didn't before last night. One pushed me but I didn't see it, and then another one showed up at the foot of my bed while I was sleeping." He scowled a little. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it." Nigel set his cup down carefully. "Has that reporter been telling you tales? I shall have a word with the owner of that newspaper." "No, I haven't seen her again. I'm telling you, something belligerent and invisible pushed me to the floor last night. And 93
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I have a witness, okay?" He didn't much appreciate Nigel's attitude that he was imagining things. "Ah yes. Mr. Montgomery. I wanted to talk to you about him as well, actually," the solicitor said delicately. "What about him?" Ryan put his mug down and put his hands on hips. The older man frowned a little. "Am I to expect to see him here all the time?" "As often as he wants to be here, yeah. He's my friend. And he's been awesome. He's been cooking for me, and driving me around. Why should you care who I have staying here?" He wasn't sure why he was feeling defensive. "Well." The solicitor seemed loathe to be blunt. "People are quite concerned with appearances in this country, and it might look as if..." The man trailed off, clearly pained. Ryan frowned. "Well, James doesn't care how it looks, and neither do I. And actually, if you must know, I am gay and I'm pretty sure he's not. I mean, I haven't really told anyone that here, but ... Well, it's no one's business, but I thought I'd tell you. James knows, too." Nigel's mouth dropped open, and he seemed to be struck speechless. "I, well. My Lord, that is of course your business and I would never presume to comment." Ryan sighed. "You can say whatever you want, but it won't change the fact." He went around to sit at the desk. "I didn't mean for this to be a contentious thing, Nigel. Where I come from there's nothing wrong with just. Being honest." He shrugged his shoulders. 94
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The solicitor seemed to be searching for something to say. "My Lord. I am just concerned for your well-being, and that of the estate. Forgive my intrusion." "It's okay. It's just..." He glanced towards the open door of the drawing room, but he was sure James was still upstairs. "If James wasn't here, I'd be so lonely. And I didn't mean to get pissy with you, but, well..." He lowered his voice a little. "I would hate for anyone to think badly of him. I kinda like him." He nibbled on his bottom lip. "But that's between you and me, okay?" The solicitor clearly didn't know what to say, and seemed uncomfortable. "Of course, my lord," he stammered. "I would never break a confidence." Just then, James knocked at the door loudly. "Anyone home?" he called out. Ryan looked up and smiled at him. "Hey. I was just about to ask Nigel what we can do about the power going out," he said, which he was, sort of. James nodded. "Yeah, that was kinda weird. It blew for no reason. You should get someone out here to check it, Nigel." He grinned at Ryan. "You hungry, Ryan? We've got bagels." "Ooh, they have bagels in this country? Rad." He stood and started towards the door. "You want a bagel, Nigel?" He kind of liked the way James insinuated himself, like it was his place, too. "Er ... no thank you." The solicitor looked from James to Ryan. "I shall contact the local electrician to come and check it immediately," he assured Ryan. "Perhaps you should have 95
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your meal, then we can discuss more business. I can work in here and make some calls." "Rad," said James, grabbing Ryan's arm and pulling him out of the room. Ryan giggled a little and waved at Nigel. "We'll be back." He followed James into the kitchen and they feasted on the proffered baked goods. When they were done eating, Ryan returned to the drawing room to discuss servants with Nigel, and James spent a little time with his pet project, the car. All too soon it was time for James to leave, though he promised to return that evening. By the time Nigel left they'd reviewed applications from at least twenty different people for various jobs around the castle, as well as discussing more financial matters, and Ryan's head was spinning. It didn't even occur to him until the proper solicitor drove away that he was alone in the castle for the very first time. He watched the car's brake lights disappear in the fading light. It wouldn't be dark out for hours yet, which was a little freaky to Ryan, too, but he was inside, so it didn't matter that much. He went to the kitchen and reheated some of the food that James had made, then returned to the drawing room. He turned on the television just for some background noise, then crossed the room to the desk. He'd noticed a volume about the family history, and he thought he'd read it for a little while. James wouldn't be back until much later, so he had some time to kill. He called his mom, and spoke to his stepdad and brother for a little while, then settled down with a cup of tea and the 96
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book. He skimmed through the pages, looking for anything interesting to pop out at him. The book seemed to want to open to a specific section, as if it had been looked at many times before, but the binding didn't seem to be any more worn in at any one spot. For some reason, he just felt like trying something out. He laid the book open on the desk to another section. It was still for a moment, then the pages slid to the other section. He turned the book to a part before that, and rested a pen against the open leaves to hold it open there. After a moment, the pen rolled off and the pages again parted to the other spot. He glanced up at the ceiling. "You want me to read this page, I assume?" he said to no one in particular. Then he shook his head. Nigel was right. It was foolishness. There were no ghosts. The section was about Maximillian Chester, the fourteenth Earl of Elgin. Apparently, he'd had an unprecedented eight children. Every other Earl up to that point had only fathered one or at most two children, if a daughter had been born first. Ryan frowned at the sexist implications of that, but he read on. One by one, every child died, either in infancy or childhood, until finally only one son remained to become the fifteenth Earl of Elgin. Just at that moment, a flash of lightning outside the window illuminated a portrait on the wall for about three seconds, long enough for Ryan to notice. He got up and strolled over to the portrait beside the door. It was none other than the fourteenth Earl. His eyes widened. It was a 97
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creepy coincidence, nothing more. He wished he knew where to find the portrait of the fifteenth Earl. The fourteenth was a dour man, on the portly side, unlike the other portraits he'd seen, which were all of men who seemed quite slender. He had a thick moustache and a frown on his face. Who would frown when having their portrait painted? "You look like a cranky old bastard," he said aloud. A split second later, the television flickered and the picture turned to very loud snow. "What the hell?" he muttered, walking around the couch to sit and play with the remote. He got it back on easily enough, but it was just odd. He had that creepy sensation of being watched. **** James was only an hour into his shift when she walked in. The reporter, Portia something-or-other. He was washing a few glasses and the pub was fairly quiet at this predinnertime. Within an hour, people would come in for a quick pint on the way home from work. Portia stood in the doorway, looking around as if the place smelled bad. She seemed to spot James and made a beeline for the bar. James sighed and tried to avoid her eye, but she was clearly here to talk to him. "Mr. Montgomery?" she said, as if unsure. James set the clean glass down and smiled insincerely at her. "Yes, that's me. What can I get you?" The reporter's nose wrinkled almost imperceptibly, but James caught it. He'd never seen her in here, and she 98
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obviously thought herself above public rooms. But then she said, "Do you have any white wine?" "Yes, of course," James replied. "Coming right up." He busied himself finding the appropriate glass for white wine, then opened the bottle. He filled the glass and set it in front of Portia. "Thank you, Mr. Montgomery," she smiled, settling herself carefully on a barstool. She looked like she didn't belong there. She looked directly into James' eyes and added, "May I call you James?" "Of course," he said neutrally, and he made as if to move off and do something else. "James!" she called out a bit shrilly. "If you had just a moment to take from your duties..." She smiled in what she must have thought was charming manner. "I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." James affected surprise. "Me?" he said incredulously. "Whatever would you want to ask me about?" Reluctantly, he moved back down toward her. Portia leaned forward conspiratorially. "Why, the new Earl of course! You seem to be quite, er, chummy with him, and I'm sure everyone wants to know all about him!" James' eyebrows rose. "What could I possibly know about him that your readers would find even remotely interesting? How he takes his tea or something?" The reporter frowned. "Come on, dear, you must have something more interesting to share than that," she wheedled. 99
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James shrugged. "Not really. If there's something you want to know, you should ask Ryan. If he wants to tell you, he will. If not..." He shrugged again. "I guess it's none of your business." He glanced around; the bar was starting to fill up a little, and they were drawing an audience. Portia clearly saw her opportunity slipping away, and she called out a little too loudly, "How about the rumors that the castle is haunted?" The bar silenced immediately, and James couldn't school his expression quickly enough. He tried, though. "I don't believe in ghosts." But the reporter knew how to read people. She'd seen weakness, and she pounced. "But the stories have been around for so long. Surely there must be some truth to them. You've stayed in the castle. Did you see anything abnormal?" "Oh, it's haunted all right." A wizened old man who had taken a seat at the other end of the bar spoke up. "I used to work up at the castle in my younger days. When the last Earl were still a young man. I was a footman. And I saw them ghosts. There's at least three of them up there, all batty as bedbugs." Portia's eyes lit up and she moved down the bar toward the old man. "Three ghosts, you say?" she all but purred. "I'd never heard that before..." James rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help listening. "Oh, aye. At least two of the former Earls walk the castle, wreaking havoc on the current residents, and as the tale goes, one of the ghosts is a former countess. I'm surprised you ain't heard about it already, Miss Portia." The man took a 100
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deep drink from his pint. "One spirit is stern, one is mischievous, and one is heartbroken. It's been that way for generations, and they've never found their rest. The old Earl's father even brought in an exorcist, but it didn't help." He spoke with authority, like one who believed without question that what he was saying was the truth. Some of the older denizens of the pub nodded in agreement, James noticed as he looked around. Portia looked over at James. "James, love, get Mr. Grubb a pint, on me of course," she said, settling on the stool next to him. Her former distaste of the place seemed to have evaporated in the face of juicy gossip. She turned back to the old man, giving him her complete attention and a winning smile. "Do go on, sir. I'm ever so interested." James poured the man a pint of his favorite ale and set it in front of him. He lingered close, wanting to hear more. Elias Grubb gave Portia a toothless grin. "Thank ye, miss. Very kind. There's not a lot more known, unfortunately. I only seen one of 'em, and it were only for a second. The wee lad, rest his soul, used tae tell stories about them." "There's a lady ghost?" Portia urged, sensing a romantic story. "But why was she heartbroken? Did you see her?" "Nae, I dinna see her, but he said she used tae sit with him in the nursery when he were a little boy. She loved children, she said. She wanted a lot of them an' only 'ad one." He smirked and took another deep drink. "I expect there were a lot o' Countesses 'ad the same complaint." A few other older men around the pub chuckled at his comment. 101
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James raised an eyebrow, sensing something more, and apparently so did the reporter. "What do you mean, Mr. Grubb? Surely they were happy in such a lovely home," Portia said curiously. "Well..." Grubb lowered his voice. "We don't like tae cast no aspersions on the Earls, you know. They might be an odd lot, but they're our odd lot. Still, there's an awful lot of 'em said to be light in the loafers, if yeh know what I mean," he said, giving her a conspiratorial wink. Portia looked blankly at the old man. She obviously had no clue what he was getting at, but James did. He snickered a little and turned away to pour a pint. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," the reporter said a little frostily, as if unsure if she was being mocked. Grubb looked at her like she was soft in the head. "Oh, I guess you English girls would say they're all poufs," he jeered, insulting her much more than the Earls of Elgin. Portia managed to look offended and blush at the same time. "Well, if you're going to be rude about it, I won't bother," she said, frowning. James smirked until she looked back at him. Suddenly she was looking at him speculatively. "I don't suppose you know anything about all that," she said, looking a bit disgusted. "Nope," he said, backing away quickly to serve another patron. Portia made a face and dropped a few coins onto the bar, and got up to leave. James watched her go. [Back to Table of Contents] 102
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Chapter Five James let himself into the castle; Ryan had given him a key before he left. He closed and locked the door behind him, and made his way down the hallway. The door stood ajar, and a slice of warm flickering light, no doubt from the fireplace, cut across the hallway. He eased inside and was about to call out when he spotted Ryan on the couch, fast asleep. He smiled and made his way over to the smaller man. He stood and looked at Ryan for a long moment. He didn't know whether to wake him. He didn't have to ponder it too long, because Ryan stirred. He looked up at James and smiled, stretching lazily. "Hi," he said, his voice a little groggy. "How was work?" It was so wonderfully familiar, like it was all meant to be this way. He patted the couch next to him, beckoning James to sit. James sat down, smiling. "It was interesting," he said. "That reporter came in and started asking me questions." "Wow. Tenacious, huh? What did she ask you?" He was surprised. He thought he'd told her pretty much all she could possibly want to know, even though he'd carefully skirted certain issues until he knew how everyone was going to take them. "She wanted more juicy details about you," he said, shrugging. "I didn't let her get that far. Then she asked about the ghosts." The ghosts. They were on Ryan's mind. "I think one of them was hanging around this evening, actually. Nigel thinks 103
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I'm crazy." He shrugged. "Did she know anything about them?" "No, just rumors." James hesitated. "But there was an old guy in there, he's been coming in as long as I've been there. He knew a few things." Ryan sat up, hungry for information. "Yeah? Like what sort of things?" James turned to face Ryan. "There are apparently three ghosts," he began. "I think he said, one stern, one mischievous, one heartbroken. The heartbroken one was a countess." "Wow, really? I don't think I've run into her. I think I just got the stern one so far, unless the mischievous one tripped the breaker last night." He laughed a little. "We should try to contact them." He watched James' expression carefully, wondering if he was going to tell Ryan he was nuts any minute. "Wait. You said one of them was hanging around this evening? What happened? Are you okay?" "Oh it was nothing, really. It could have been my imagination, but this book kept opening to his page and then lightning flashed on his portrait." He pointed to the picture hanging beside the door. "...and then the TV went out. That was it, really. Except it was kinda cold. I'm fine, really. It was spooky, but not really bad. Not like last night." Ryan felt comforted by the worry in James' voice. "Whose portrait?" James asked, looking around. Ryan stood gracefully and walked over to the portrait. "This one." He read the words beneath it. "Maximillian." He 104
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tipped his head back again, bracing his hands on his hips. "He looks mean, don't you think? Like, really strict or something. He had a whole bunch of kids, and all of them but one died." James followed Ryan and stood beside him, regarding the portrait. "I guess that would make anyone look unhappy," he ventured. "But yeah. He doesn't look like a nice guy." He stared at the man's painting. "You don't think that he's the one..." "Well, it was his page in the book that kept opening." He frowned a little. "Hey! We should try to contact him!" he suggested with a grin. James looked at Ryan and raised an eyebrow. "Contact him how? You think he's got a cell phone on the other side? E-mail maybe?" "No, we could make a ouija board! I did it with my gramma once when I was a kid." He walked over to the desk and got out some paper and a pen. "Can you see if you can find a small glass? Like a juice glass or a shot glass or something?" He started tearing the paper into small squares, excited at the prospect. "A ouija board?" James repeated. "You're kidding." Ryan looked up at him. "Are you scared?" He put the papers down. "If you're scared, we don't have to." Somehow, he suspected James would agree. "No, not scared. Just..." He shook his head. "If you want to, we'll try it. It's just..." he shrugged. "So cheesy, you know?" "Aw, well, it probably won't work anyway. What's the harm?" He started writing on the scraps of paper, one letter 105
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per piece, each number from zero to nine, and finally yes and no. James watched Ryan for a long moment and said, "Why not? I think I saw a few shot glasses somewhere in the kitchen. Be right back." He walked quickly to the kitchen and found two different types, in case one wasn't right, and brought them back to Ryan. Ryan had cleared everything off of the low coffee table in front of the television. He arranged all the squares of paper around the edge and sat cross-legged in front of it. He looked up as James came back into the room. "Ready?" he asked. "As ready as I'll ever be." He looked around. "Don't you need, like candles and incense and spooky music?" he teased, hands on hips. "And you should be wearing a turban. Or a long gauzy dress." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Gauze is so last season," he smirked. "Just sit on the floor and put the glass upside down in the center of the table." "Yes sir," James replied, sitting down across from Ryan. He put the glass down where Ryan instructed. "Now what?" Ryan reached over to the glass and gingerly put two fingers on it. "Put your fingers on it, and then we're gonna circle it around to call the spirit to us, okay?" He waited for James to touch it before moving the glass in a broad circle on the table. He looked up at the ceiling. "If you're here, would you answer a few questions for us?" he asked softly, bringing the glass to a full stop in the center of the table. James watched Ryan's face. Ryan's eyes were fixed on the glass. After a moment, it started, very slowly, to move. He 106
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looked quickly at James' face. "You're not moving it, are you?" he whispered. A moment later it stopped next to the piece of paper on which he'd written 'yes'. James widened his eyes in an innocent expression, and shook his head. Ryan chewed on his bottom lip. "Are you the fourteenth Earl of Elgin?" he asked. His heart was pounding. They watched as the glass moved once again. The glass moved to the center of the table and then slowly back to the 'yes' again. His eyes widened and he looked at James again. "You sure you're not moving it?" he whispered. "I'm not. I promise. I thought you were," James whispered back, eyes a little wide. Ryan swallowed and licked his lips. "Why did you push me onto the floor, last night?" he asked boldly. Almost instantly, the glass started moving again, more quickly this time, almost slipping out of their fingers entirely. Ryan gasped. It stopped first at the d, then to e-p-r-a-v-e-, and then d in rapid succession. Ryan blinked. "Depraved? What was depraved? It was only a backrub," he protested. James blushed a little. "A voyeuristic ghost, great," he whispered. Just then the glass flew across the room and smashed into the fireplace. Ryan stared, going pale. "Holy shit," he said softly. "Did you bring another glass?" he asked. "Yeah," James said, reaching over and handing Ryan the other glass. He looked over at the broken glass. "I think we pissed him off." 107
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Ryan put the new glass in the center of the table and put his fingers on it again. "We're sorry. We didn't mean to offend you," he said softly. "Are you saying that what we were doing was depraved?" he asked. The glass started to move slowly again. s-i-n-t-o-t-o-u-c-h-a-n-o-t-h-e-r-m-a-n. "Sin to touch another man?" James said softly, blushing once again. "A homophobic voyeuristic ghost?" He looked up at Ryan. "Well, that would explain the pushing." Ryan frowned a little. "It was just a backrub." Of course, it was more to him, and the ghost would surely know that if he could sense things about him. "Are you going to continue judging everything I do?" he asked, a little concerned. The glass started to move again. p-e-r-v-e-r-t-s-s-h-o-u-l-d-n-ot-b-e-e-a-r-l. "He's not a fucking pervert!" James snapped, then subsided. "Sorry. This is pissing me off." He looked at Ryan apologetically. Ryan felt both embarrassed and gratified at once. He smiled across the table at James. "Thanks," he said quietly. Then there was clearly a sound of laughter. A man's laughter. Ryan was shivering now. "We should stop," he said, biting his lip. "Spirit of the fourteenth Earl, please find your rest and leave us be. Good night." He took his fingers off the glass and wrapped his arms around himself. James shivered a little. "Okay, that was freaky." He looked over at Ryan, then got up and went around to his side. He wrapped his arms around the other man and whispered, "Are you all right?" 108
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Ryan leaned against James, enjoying the safety and warmth of his arms around him. "Yeah. I'm okay. That was creepy." He rested his head on James' shoulder. It felt so nice. "It wouldn't really do us any serious harm, right? I mean, people don't get killed by ghosts." "I thought there was no such thing as ghosts, so what do I know?" James answered. "But maybe you shouldn't be alone here. You know, until we figure out what's really going on." Ryan lifted his head and looked into James' eyes. "I hate making you feel like you have to babysit me, James." The last thing he wanted was to become a burden. He was so infatuated with James. James swallowed hard, looking into Ryan's dark eyes. "I don't feel that way," he whispered. "I like being here. With you." Ryan smiled. "I like you being here, too. I don't know what I would have done without you, James," he said softly. "You must be exhausted after working all evening and then all this. Do you want something to eat or drink? Can I do anything for you?" James hesitated. "I could use a coffee," he finally said. Ryan pulled reluctantly away and stood up, holding his hand out to help James up. "I think you should supervise. I might not make it as good as you do," he said, smiling at him. Just then, Ryan heard a voice close in his ear. "Good idea," it whispered. Ryan almost jumped out of his skin. "Did you hear that?" he asked. 109
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"No, what did you hear?" James asked with alarm as he got up. Maybe he was imagining it. He took a deep breath. "Nothing. It was nothing," he said, shaking himself. "Let's go." He took James' hand and walked with him to the kitchen. When they got there Ryan stopped in the doorway. There was a man sitting on a counter. "He can't see me. Only you can," the man said conversationally. The ghost was definitely a different one than the Earl in the portrait. He was slender and had shoulderlength, wavy brown hair, and was dressed quite nicely. He seemed young, and was quite attractive in a waifish way, almost pretty. James bumped into Ryan when he stopped in the doorway. "What's wrong?" he asked, peering around Ryan into the room. "You have nothing to fear from me," the ghost said. "Just act normally. If you can," he said, Ryan stepped into the room. "Nothing. It's fine. I'm just freaked out." He walked over to the counter with the coffee pot. James glanced around a little nervously. "It seems awfully cold in here," he observed. He leaned against the counter, oblivious. "You want me to make the coffee?" Ryan smiled at him. "Sure. I'll watch how you do it and make it for you in the morning, okay?" Suddenly the ghost was beside him and he bit back a gasp. "He is utterly adorable. Reminds me of an old friend. Don't worry about that old killjoy, Maxim. He's just in denial. I 110
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heard he had a crush on his piano tutor," he said, chuckling. Ryan couldn't stop himself from smirking at that. James looked at Ryan a bit oddly, then got the coffee out of the cabinet. He began to measure it out into the machine, then he said, "Are you hearing things again? Not like hearing things like you're crazy, you know what I mean." "Are you sure you wanna know?" Ryan asked. "Yeah. There's another ghost here. A different one. I can see him as clearly as I can see you, and he's talking to me. He told me you couldn't see him." He thought for sure James was going to think he was crazy now. "No, I think he'll believe you. He's smitten," the ghost commented. Ryan's eyes widened. He looked right at the ghost. "Yeah, I'm not crazy. You are," he said. James' head whipped around. "There's a ghost here? Where?" Ryan pointed to where the ghost was standing on the opposite side of him from James. "Right here." The ghost waved, although he knew James couldn't see him. That wrought a nervous giggle from Ryan. He looked at James. "Sorry. He just waved at you." James took a shuddering breath. "Okay. I assume this would be the mischievous ghost?" James looked where Ryan was pointing. Ryan stared over at the ghost questioningly. "What's your name?" he asked.
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The ghost took a step back and bowed with a flourish. "Percival, at your service. Eighteenth Earl of Elgin. Percy to my friends." Ryan repeated the name, and turned back to James. "I think he's harmless," he said with a shrug. "So I take it he's not the one who pushed you," James said, relaxing a little, but still uneasy. "Did he flip the breaker last night?" "Mm, yes. That was me. Admit it, you got a cuddle or two out of it," the ghost said. Ryan blushed pink. "Yeah. That was him," he said quietly. James raised an eyebrow. "Why did he do that, then?" he asked curiously. "I can kind of understand why the pissy one pushed you, but..." Ryan was getting a clearer idea of why. "I think he's like an evil, twisted little matchmaker," he said, glaring at Percival, who giggled a little himself. It was James' turn to blush. "You mean he..." He busied himself with the coffeemaker. "He's trying to get us, um, together?" Ryan wished that the earth would open up and swallow him whole. "I think so." He glanced at the ghost. "But he should learn to mind his own business," he said through gritted teeth. He looked back at James. "It doesn't mean anything. It's not like he could force you to do anything." "You should ask him why he is doing this, then," he said, pouring water into the coffeemaker. "Or does he do this with all the castle's occupants?" 112
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"Obviously I'm doing it because I have your best interests at heart, dear boy," the ghost said. Ryan whirled towards him. "Look, I don't need or want your fucking help, okay?" He turned back to James and stammered a little. "I mean, I didn't mean. Not that I have any. You know, I just ... Well, I've never had a problem before. With a guy who..." He sighed and looked back at the ghost. "Just stop it, okay?" James smiled. "Don't worry about it," he assured Ryan. "I'm not upset. Just a little confused." "Ooh. Three guesses what he's confused about," Percy purred. Ryan's head dropped forward and he covered his face with his hands. He looked up again. "Oh. How many scoops of coffee?" he asked, forgetting to pay attention to how it was made. "Two. One scoop per cup you want to make," James explained. He looked up suspiciously. "What did he say now?" he demanded, frowning at the spot where the ghost supposedly was. "He," Ryan wanted to die, "he was wondering what you were confused about," he mumbled. "Just, we can just ignore him. Really. I'm totally not listening to him." The ghost folded his arms over his chest and pouted. "I wouldn't recommend ignoring me," he said. James pushed the button to start the coffee brewing and walked over to Ryan. "Look, don't worry about it," he said, leaning against the counter next to Ryan. "Besides, if you ask 113
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me, he's kind of a perv. He probably likes watching." He smiled at Ryan. Ryan grinned sheepishly. "He said you're adorable," he said, blushing a little still. "I guess at least he's a perv with good taste." James smiled more widely. "A ghost thinks I'm adorable. Well, that's a new one." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "His opinion clearly doesn't reflect the general populace." "Well, then the general populace is blind," Ryan said, glancing down. "I have to tell you that, regardless of how well you're doing now, you still need my help," the ghost said. James smirked. "At first I was the new blood, but it's kind of a small town, and..." He trailed off. "Well, let's just say it's been a long time." He ducked his head, embarrassed. The fact that James hadn't had a girlfriend in a while didn't exactly comfort him. "Yeah. For me, too," he offered. "Not that I didn't have offers." Things were easy in Hollywood, of course. "I doubt I'll get many here, though." He shrugged. He smiled at James. "I'm sure in L.A. I could get you plenty of action." "What are you doing?" Percy asked. "Offering him women? Obviously you need my help. Desperately." Luckily, the coffee chose that moment to be ready, and James busied himself with grabbing two mugs and filling them. "Does the ghost want a cup?" he joked. "Even if he did it's too bad. I'm not speaking to him." Ryan was getting tired of his comments. James was straight and 114
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there was nothing to be done about it. He accepted his mug and started spooning some sugar into it. Percy moved around behind Ryan and put his ghostly chin roughly in the vicinity of Ryan's shoulder. "He's not straight. Trust me on this one, love. He thinks he's straight, but you'll find out differently, I promise you." Ryan shivered a little, resolutely ignoring him. James sipped at his coffee, watching Ryan. "I don't suppose there's any way I can see this ghost myself," he mused, glancing around the room. Percy moved over to stand on the other side of James, leaning close to his face. "No. You cannot. Pretty though you may be, I only appear to my own kind." He looked over at Ryan. "And by that I mean Earls, not queers." Ryan's gaze went from Percy to James. "No. He says you can't see him. He only appears to Earls." "I'm not crazy about how you're interpreting," Percy said. Ryan smirked. "You don't want to see him, anyway. He's rude and completely uninteresting." "I feel so left out," James sighed. "Can you just tell him to stay out of the bathroom when I'm showering, then? I don't like being watched." Percy pouted. "Aww, tell him he's no fun at all." "He's says you're no fun at all," Ryan said. "I've edited out some of the stuff he said, but that's word for word." He doubted James wanted to hear most of what Percy said, anyway. He got the soy milk out of the fridge and poured some in his mug, stirring it. "Mostly it's how I should jump 115
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you," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Which I have no plans of doing, so..." "Does he know what's up the other ghost's ass? So to speak," James asked. "Why is he so angry?" "As far as I can tell, he's just super homophobic," Ryan said with a shrug. Percy just snorted his assent. "And obviously all ghosts have dirty minds, because it was totally innocent." He sighed a little and took a sip of his coffee. "Mmm, you make the best coffee." "But are you in danger from him?" James asked, pressing the subject a bit more. Percy glanced away, suddenly quiet. Ryan looked at him. "Well? Am I?" he asked. "Maybe, but probably not. You've got some protectors," he said. He took a step back from them, and then another. "I believe this is where I disappear into thin air. Another time, dear boy." "Wait! Don't go. What do you mean, probably not? What protectors?" But then Percy was gone, and Ryan frowned. "Fucking coward," he said with a sigh. James stepped closer to Ryan in concern. "What did he say?" "He said maybe but probably not, and that I have protectors, and then he fucking vanished." He frowned. "What harm could a ghost do, though?" He sighed and then forced a smile. "I'm sure it's fine. What could he do?" James frowned. "I don't think you should be alone here, at least at night." 116
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Ryan smiled a little shyly. "Are you volunteering to stay over?" he asked. Sometimes, when James got all protective like this, Ryan could almost believe what Percy was saying about him not being straight. "Of course," James answered immediately. "If you want me to." He smiled. "I mean, let me know if you get sick of me." Ryan laughed. "Deja vu. But yeah, still not sick of you, and showing no signs of it," he said with a smile. "Wanna go to bed? I mean, you know, to sleep." James yawned at the very mention of sleep. "Yeah, I guess we should. Um..." He blushed again, annoyed with himself. "Do you wanna sleep in my bed again? Just in case, you know..." "Are you sure you don't mind? I mean, you can sleep with me flailing all around and everything?" Ryan's heart was already pounding at the thought. Last night he'd been scared out of his wits when he got into James' bed. But not now. Now it was premeditated. James laughed. "You didn't flail! You didn't even snore." "Okay. Thanks. I did feel kinda safer with someone so close by," he said softly. He went about turning off the coffee pot and dumping out the grounds and rinsing it out for the morning. He finished off his own coffee and left the mug in the sink. Then they headed up the long curving staircase towards the bedrooms. James got ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and stripping down to his boxers. He climbed into the bed. 117
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Ryan took his turn in the bathroom and changed for bed. He slipped into James' room, and slid between the covers, keeping to his own side and turning out the light. "Thanks, James," he whispered. He really couldn't say it enough. He couldn't even imagine how things might have gone without him. Despite the coffee, Ryan drifted off to sleep quickly, exhausted from the day's events. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Six Ryan slept soundly, and when morning came he found himself wrapped around James yet again. He scolded himself and pulled away carefully, not wanting to wake him. He padded into the bathroom and started the shower, climbing in under the hot spray. He thought vaguely of James' comment to Percy the night before about not watching him in the shower, and chuckled a little to himself. Ryan climbed out of the shower and dried himself off a little. He squeezed his long hair out over the tub and tied the towel around his hips before wiping off the mirror over the sink. He jumped a little when he noticed a face in the mirror behind him. "Percy," he said, putting his hand over his chest. "Sorry, but I haven't been able to speak to you privately anywhere else. You're always with your little friend," he said, smirking. Ryan frowned and filled the sink with warm water to shave with. "Were you watching me in the shower? James is right. You are a perv." Percy pursed his lips. "You haven't got anything I haven't seen before, dear boy. Although never quite so colorful, perhaps. I did know this one lovely young man with a tattoo. He was a sailor. Mm, he had very muscular arms..." The ghost looked wistful. Ryan rolled his eyes. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" he prompted. 119
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"Oh. Yes. Sorry. What makes you so sure your young man is straight?" "Jesus, can you just let it drop?" He cleaned off the razor and drew it across his cheek. "If it's meant to be, it'll happen. Okay? If anything, you're making things worse." "That, my dear boy, is just the sort of attitude that caused the previous Earl to live a long, lonely life. He's quite concerned about you, by the way. Overdeveloped sense of responsibility, that one." "Wait, you mean the one that just died? I mean ... passed away?" Ryan didn't stop shaving, but he did watch Percy in the mirror. "Yes. Jonathan. He's worried about you. He's the one that appeared at the foot of your bed the other night. Of course I don't think he meant to send you off to James' bed. He was just making sure Maxim left you in peace." "How many of you are there?" he asked, gaping at the spectral figure. "Oh, quite a few," Percy replied. "Why don't you move on?" "We all have our own reasons, of course. Jonathan feels as if he abandoned you to your fate. He'll likely move on once you're well settled. Or perhaps once you've..." He made a face like he'd just bitten into a lemon. "Bred." Ryan sighed and washed off his razor again, starting on his jawline. "You know, before all this I had absolutely no plans to ever have kids." Just then the bathroom window flew open and a cold breeze circled around the room. 120
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"Calm down, won't you? He said before this," Percy said, frowning at the ceiling. Shivering, Ryan went to the window and closed it, latching it securely. "Who was that?" he asked. "Jonathan. He's terrified of the title reverting to the Crown." Percy rolled his eyes. "But back to more important matters. Such as James. I'm sure he's smitten with you. I can feel it. Honestly, how many straight boys get turned on by another man giving them a backrub?" Ryan gasped and almost cut himself. "How do you know?" "Why else would Maxim have tossed you off of him? If you weren't making any progress he would have left you alone. After all, he's quite sensitive to it by now. He's been haunting the lot of us for this very reason. Even Jonathan." "So you were haunted by the fourteenth Earl while you were alive?" The very idea was fascinating to him, speaking to a ghost who'd been haunted in life by a ghost he now, essentially, resided with. "Oh yes. He hated me. More than the others, possibly. Not that I was any worse. I was only more obvious." "Wait a minute. Are you saying all the Earls of Elgin have been gay?" Again Ryan gaped at him. "Damn near, yes. We're quite the argument for it being hereditary. Now, we haven't all acted on it, and obviously we've all rallied our family pride long enough to sire heirs or none of us would be here, would we?" Ryan could only blink. "What about my dad?" he asked quietly. 121
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Percy gave him a soft smile. "No. Your father loved your mother very much. As he loves you, Ryan." "How do you know?" he asked sharply. "I've communicated with him. Briefly. He wanted you to know that he's proud of you." Ryan's throat felt tight suddenly. "Oh," he said hoarsely. "He's moved on, though, as you so gracefully put it." That caused a lull in the conversation, and Ryan finished shaving, then washed off his face. "So what's your deal, then?" he asked. "My deal?" "Yeah. Why haven't you moved on?" Percy frowned a little. "That's none of your business. We were talking about you, remember?" Ryan started combing out the ends of his hair. "So, it's okay for you, but not for me, huh? How come you can get all up in my business?" he asked. "I'm a ghost. I can do what I like. And if you don't tell me, I can just find out on my own, you know. Would you care for an example?" He folded his arms over his chest. "About five minutes ago, behind that wall," he said, pointing towards the back wall of the shower, "Your little friend was having a rather steamy little dream about you. Would you like the details? It's really not the sort of dream straight boys have, by the way." Ryan whirled around. "Would you please leave him alone? What the hell did he do to you? If I don't scare him away, you're certainly going to. What makes you think I even want 122
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James, anyway? Maybe he's not my type. Maybe I'm not his type. Why can't you just stay the hell out of it?" James had just gotten up, and was moving toward the sound of Ryan's voice, slightly raised. He stumbled over the edge of the rug at Ryan's words, and knocked over a lamp. Ryan gasped, and Percy instantly moved through the wall to see what was going on. Ryan poked his head out of the door and saw James there. It occurred to him what James must have heard. "James, I, sorry, I was being harassed. I didn't, I was only trying to shut him up." He stepped out into the room. "I didn't mean..." He blushed. "You are his type," Percy ground out, clearly frustrated that James couldn't hear him. "Just tell him he is your type. Bloody hell." Ryan frowned. "Percy insists that I tell you that you are my type. Not that, you know, I mean I know you're straight and everything." He really wanted to just die now. James stammered, "I, um, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I heard your voice and I'm sorry." He bit his lip. "Are you all right?" Ryan swallowed hard. "Yeah. You know, other than the whole completely humiliated thing, I'm great. Need the bathroom?" he asked. He put on a blank expression and strolled past James, fumbling around in his suitcase for something to wear. Maybe if he just pretended nothing had happened, everyone else would, too. "Oh, very smooth," Percy said, chuckling. "Your backwards little tactics might just work, though. You've got his pretty little head spinning." 123
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Ryan ignored him completely and pulled out a pair of black jeans, of which he had several. James followed after Ryan, saying, "You don't have to be humiliated. You can tell me anything." He stopped short, eyeing Ryan in the towel, bent over. "Um, I was thinking. I don't think you should be alone here. Why don't you come along to the pub, you know, after Nigel finishes working you to death?" Ryan straightened up and turned to look at him. "I don't know. I guess. It would be nice to get out of this place and away from the pests," he said, scowling sourly at Percy. "Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want to get underfoot or anything." He was humiliated, though. Basically he just told James that he liked him. He knew James was straight, and he didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but it seemed like fate was conspiring against him. He put his hand lightly on James' arm. "You know I would never try to make the moves on you or anything, right? I mean, okay, I kinda like you, but it's cool, really. I'm not, I wouldn't..." James looked into Ryan's eyes intently. "It's okay. Don't worry. If it made me feel uncomfortable would I still be here?" he asked. "Would I ask you to come hang out at work with me?" He hesitated. "I like you a lot, Ryan. Just not..." Ryan smiled a little sadly. "Okay. I'll go make the coffee." "Oh, he's fibbing. He's just in denial. Don't listen to him, Ryan," Percy said. Ryan ignored him, not wanting to freak James out. "I'll just get dressed. I'm sure Nigel will be here soon, anyway." 124
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"Oh, joy," smirked James. "I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to see me still here." He glanced at the bathroom. "I'll just have a shower, then. Tell the damn ghost to stay out," he joked. "Don't ogle James in the shower, Percy." Ryan said with a grin. He sat on the edge of the bed and started putting on his pants. When he got them partway up his legs, he stood and turned to face away from James and Percy, pulling the jeans up over his ass, dislodging the towel. "I'll just go then," James said faintly, fleeing into the stillsteamy bathroom. "He was checking out your ass," Percy said close to Ryan's ear. Ryan glanced around in time to see James disappear into the bathroom, then glared at Percy. He grabbed a sweater and pulled it on, heading downstairs. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Seven Once again, Nigel was waiting patiently in the drawing room with a cup of Earl Grey. "Good morning, my lord. I trust you had a less eventful night?" he said evenly. Ryan took a seat at the desk, putting down two mugs of coffee. "Ever heard of Percival Elgin?" he asked, bringing one cup close to himself and wrapping his hands around it for warmth. "The eighteenth Earl?" Nigel said, looking up. "I see you've been reading up on your ancestors," he added, sounding pleased. "No, actually. I read about the fourteenth Earl," he said, pointing to the portrait. "I met Percy last night." The solicitor was in the middle of taking a prim sip of tea, and he spluttered a little. "Pardon?" he said, coughing a little. "I met him. He appeared to me. Talked to me. I'm serious. And he said the other one is the one that pushed me." He knew Nigel wasn't going to believe him, but it was worth a try. Nigel clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and sighed. "I see you persist in your belief in these fairy tales, my lord," he said softly. "With all due respect, sir, it does not behoove a man of your position to indulge in the occult." He looked disappointed. Ryan sighed. "Fine. What have we got today?" He took a sip of his coffee and noticed Percy stroll in through the bookshelf. He glanced over at him and shook his head. 126
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"What's wrong, dear boy? You should know poor Nigel hasn't got the imagination to believe in anything." There was a pad of paper in front of Ryan, and he had an idea. Nigel pulled his small, neat leatherbound notebook over in front of him and peered at it. "I have arranged for you to interview some potential staff today," he began, then looked up. "If that meets with your approval," he added a bit stiffly. "Yes. Fine. Are they here already?" he asked. "You should get a French chef. They make better food," Percy said. Ryan glanced at him and then he scribbled on the pad, I don't like French food. Percy scoffed. "Peasant. What sort of food do you like?" Ryan scribbled, vegan. Nigel scowled at Ryan. He glanced at his watch. "The first candidates are set to arrive in about thirty minutes," he said. "Good. Time for a little breakfast, then. Do you want anything?" he asked. Percy sighed. "I miss food. Sometimes I can almost imagine I can smell it." "No thank you, my lord. I breakfasted before I arrived," Nigel replied. "Do go and eat. I shall await you here." Ryan put his pad away in the drawer and stood up. "I'll be back in a few minutes, then." He nodded to Nigel and made his way to the kitchen. Percy floated along beside him. "Would you leave me alone?" he whispered. "Oh come on. Nigel already thinks you're right round the bend." 127
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James had showered quickly, and made his way to the kitchen and found some bagels, and was cutting up some fruit. He looked up when Ryan walked in, smiling. "Hello again." Ryan beamed at him. "Did you read my mind?" he asked. "I have some coffee for you in the drawing room." He stepped close and picked a strawberry off the plate. "Mmm." He sighed and impulsively rested his chin on James' shoulder. "I'm kinda dreading hiring a cook now. Do you think they'll let us come in here and make our own food?" "It's your kitchen," James pointed out. "If you don't want a cook, don't hire one." He leaned into Ryan. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut. It felt nice. "He's really quite sweet, isn't he," Percy commented. Ryan ignored him, but gave him the finger behind his back, knowing he would see. "Yeah, but I can't expect you to stay here forever to take care of me, "he said softly. James closed his eyes briefly. "I guess you're right," he said. "Just get one that will do what you tell them to, then." "Well, I hope whoever I get will do what I tell them to." Percy laughed. "But none of them will take care of you like this one." He lingered on the other side of James, partly dissected by the kitchen counter. "If I kiss him, I bet he'll feel it," he said, grinning evilly. Ryan straightened, glaring menacingly at Percy. "Ooh, you don't want me to, do you?" Undeterred, he leaned in close and placed a ghostly kiss on James' cheek. James shivered. "Percy's here, isn't he?" he said, an accusing note in his voice. 128
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"Yeah," Ryan said softly. "He just kissed your cheek. I was trying not to freak you out." He stepped back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. James rolled his eyes. "Well, I can say I've never been kissed by a ghost before." He looked around. "He really is a perv." "Oh now come on! It was only on the cheek!" Percy protested, putting his hands on his hips. Ryan couldn't help but giggle a little. "You've offended him, I think. He says it was only on your cheek." Ryan took a bagel and tore off a piece, nibbling on it. "You're just jealous because you wish you had the balls to do it," Percy said. Ryan had to grind his teeth not to rise to the bait. James rubbed at his cheek thoughtfully. "Well, it's the most action I've had for a while, so I suppose I shouldn't complain." He blushed. "Um. Want some vegan cream cheese?" he said, looking down at the counter. "Ooh, yeah!" He put his bagel on a plate and cut it open. "Nice to see they have something civilized in the wild heathen land," he joked. He glanced sideways at James, admiring his profile. "Ooh, he wants it, Ryan. It's been a while, he said. Give him just a little peck. Go on. He wants it," Percy said. James opened the small tub. "I think I badgered the store into ordering it. They say the vegetarian market is expanding lately, though." He got out a butter knife and slid it over to Ryan. 129
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Ryan wanted to kiss James. More than anything. But James had already been so tolerant. He was afraid to push too far. He took the knife and started spreading the cream cheese on his bagel. "Oh, you coward! How much more gay does he have to act?" Percy said, scowling. "So Fr—I mean, Nigel is here?" James asked. "Yeah. Frostyballs has some people for me to interview. They'll be here soon." Ryan grinned at James. "I dare you to kiss his cheek," Percy said. Ryan had had enough. "All right, that's enough. Go the fuck away, Percy!" James looked around at Ryan. "What did he do?" he asked, in frustration. "He was daring me to kiss you on the cheek," he said, frowning at the ghost. "You're no fun. Fine, but I'm coming back to supervise the interviews." He floated through the counter and off towards the drawing room again. James turned and leaned back against the counter, munching his bagel. "I think he just likes annoying you," he observed. "He's like a little kid." "He's gone now," he said. "I think you're right, though. He's just trying to get under my skin. It's like he's trying to, I don't know, push us together. He's convinced you're not straight, and that..." He couldn't say the rest, mostly because he wished it was true. "Try not to let him get to you," suggested James, moving a little closer. "No sign of the bad ghost so far?" 130
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"Not today. No." He took a bite of his bagel. "Listen, I'm gonna be tied up for a few hours. I don't know what you wanna do. I'm sure it won't be that exciting." James glanced at the clock. "I should go run a few errands," he said. "Then I need to go into work a little earlier." He looked at Ryan. "You promise you'll have Nigel drop you at the pub when you're done? I mean it. I don't think you should be here alone." Ryan smiled. "Yeah. I promise. It'll be nice to get away from that perv for a little while, anyway." He bit into his bagel again. "Are you staying again tonight?" he asked, glancing at him. "Of course," James said immediately. "Um. Unless you want privacy." "No. I want you to stay." Percy's words still bothered him. He leaned in and gave James a quick peck on the cheek. "Sorry," he whispered. "Couldn't help myself." James grinned. "That felt better than Percy's kiss." Ryan blushed. "Well, that's reassuring. I kiss better than a dead guy, at least." His lips tingled where he'd kissed James. "I should get going." "Okay," James said. "I'll miss you, Ryan." Impulsively, he pulled Ryan into a hug. "Have a great day." Ryan slid his arms around James' slim body. He took a deep breath. "You, too. I'll see you tonight," he said softly. Then Ryan reluctantly pulled away. "See you later." And then he turned and headed back to the drawing room. Percy accosted him in the foyer. "Good boy! I knew you could do it!" 131
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"You really need to quit it with the spying, okay?" He slipped into to room and returned to the desk, taking out the pad again. He smiled at Nigel. "Okay. Whenever you're ready." "Right," said the solicitor. He stood up from the chair behind the desk. "If you'll just sit here, I'll send them in one by one. There's a stack of CV's here for you, and if you want I can stay close by if you need assistance." The man was all bristling efficiency when he was doing his duty. Ryan wondered what a CV was, but he was afraid to ask. He flipped the pad over, ready to talk to Percy if he started babbling. Nigel bustled out of the room and returned, leading a small, thin, mouse-like woman of indeterminate age. "My lord. This is Sylvia Clark, a chef. She comes quite highly recommended." The woman curtsied nervously, and stammered, "Good afternoon, my lord. It's an honor." Ryan smiled sweetly. Her resume was at the top of the stack. "Hi, Sylvia. Why don't you have a seat," he said, rising from his chair politely until she sat down. He read over the piece of paper. "I see you have a lot of experience. Why did you leave your last job?" Ryan hadn't ever interviewed anyone, but he'd certainly been interviewed a few times. The woman perched on the edge of the chair, looking as if she was about to take flight at any moment. "I haven't yet, m'lord," she explained. "But I'm lookin' to work for a better sort, d'you know what I mean? I can do better'n frying sausages and the like." She clutched her handbag like a 132
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lifeline. "I took some courses. I know how to make all sorts of fancy things." "Good heavens, the least you could do is hire someone pretty to look at," Percy complained. Ryan scribbled on the pad, I knew I should have told Nigel I only wanted to interview handsome gay men. Damn. But he nodded thoughtfully at the woman. "Do you know how to make any vegan dishes?" he asked. The woman's eyes widened, and she looked completely blank. "I'm not sure I know what that is," she said, then looked worried. "I mean to say that I can learn anythin' you want, my lord." Ryan kept his patient, pleasant demeanor. "Vegan is food without any animal products. Using tofu and wheat gluten and soy milk. Stuff like that. Um ... what would you say your favorite thing to cook is and why?" he asked. "Give it up, love. She's not the one. Women can't be chefs," Percy commented. Ever heard of sexism, Percy? Ryan wrote on the pad. The woman blinked. "Cook without butter?" she asked, shocked. "I don't think I know how." Ryan frowned a little. He stood up and extended his hand. "All right, Miss Clark. Thank you for your time. We'll let you know when we decide anything." It wasn't rude exactly, but it was dismissive. The woman seemed on the verge of tears but she stood and shook his hand. "Sorry, sir," she stammered. Then she fled the room. 133
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Ryan stared after her. He hadn't meant to upset her so much, and he found himself wanting to call her back. He looked over at Nigel. "That didn't go so well," he said softly. He felt bad for her, and wanted to give her the job. "Don't cave, Ryan. There are eight thousand people in this town and the surrounding areas who will give you sob stories. It's what they do best," Percy said. "Now find me a pretty Frenchman who can whip up a decent mousse, would you?" "I guess bring in the next one." Ryan sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. Nigel frowned and disappeared out of the room. A few more candidates for the position of cook proved to be equally ignorant of vegan food. The next few candidates were for housekeeping positions. Nigel offered to conduct the interviews, but Ryan didn't mind doing it. He wanted to at least speak to the people who would be living in the castle with him before they got the job. He liked seeing how people reacted to him. Each one seemed to be different. And through it all, Percy kept up a running commentary. "Dirty fingernails. You don't want a maid with dirty fingernails," he would say. Or, "She looks vaguely like the Queen, don't you think?" Ryan would scribble responses on the pad in front of him, making it look like he was taking notes. Surely you can't find anything wrong with that one, he wrote. "Oh darling, I can find something wrong with almost anyone, but yes, she was quite good. Clean. Respectful. A 134
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little in awe of you. However, unfortunately, she's with child. She'll be useless to you in a few months." How do you know that?? Ryan wrote. "Omniscience, dear boy. I'm a ghost, remember?" Ryan sighed. He could see that Nigel was getting frustrated with him. "Just a few more," he said apologetically. "Of course, my lord." Maybe your problem is that they're all women, Ryan scribbled. Percy gasped. "Nonsense! I'm quite fond of women. I quite miss my Zelda," he said a little wistfully. Who's Zelda? he wrote. "My wife. My Countess. The mother of the nineteenth Earl of Elgin. Haven't you read about me at all?" Percy asked, pouting. The fourteenth Earl won't let me turn the page off of him. Percy glanced up at the ceiling. "Really, Maxim. That's hardly fair." He perched on the edge of the desk and looked at Ryan. "Zelda and I were the toast of London. She was my best friend. I like to think she was the happiest Countess of Elgin in all of history, because I know how to treat a woman," he said smugly. Ryan tried to concentrate on the interview he was conducting. He glanced at the resume in front of him, and asked a question about a former employer, sending the poor girl on a lengthy explanation. So why was she so happy when the others were so sad? he wrote. Percy smiled as if he'd been waiting for that opening. "After what happened to my mother, I was determined I 135
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wasn't going to do that to another woman. So, I found myself a woman who preferred the company of other women. We had the perfect marriage, each doing just as we pleased in private, and painting the town red together in public." So you married a lesbian? he scribbled. "Such an ugly word. We didn't say such things back then. A practitioner of the Sapphic arts ... a Dianic goddess. But yes, essentially you're correct." Ryan couldn't help but grin a little, which seemed to disturb the girl he was interviewing. "I'm sorry, my lord, did I say something wrong?" she asked meekly. "Oh, no. Sorry. Um, why did you want to leave your present employer?" he asked. "I have tae take a train and a bus tae get to the hotel, my lord. I can almost walk here from my mum's house. And Mr. Winthrop said it came with a room and all," she explained. "I'd like ever so much tae move out of me mum's house." Ryan could certainly relate to that. He adored his mom, but he couldn't wait to get his own place. He'd had an apartment by the time he was nineteen. "Yeah. I can understand that." She seemed sweet, if a little meek. "Okay, well, you probably know we've interviewed a whole bunch of folks, so, I'll try to let you know by the end of the day, okay? Does Mr. Winthrop have a number to reach you at?" He was pretty sure he was going to choose this one. "Yes, thank you, my lord," she said, standing and bowing a little awkwardly. 136
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"Of course you would pick a little mouse like that," Percy said, folding his arms over his chest. "I suppose she'll do, though. But she can't do it alone. You'll need at least two others as well. And have we picked a chef?" Ryan smiled and shook her hand before she left. "Nigel, I'm beat. Can we discuss the ones we've seen and if we need any more continue tomorrow?" he asked. Nigel dismissed the rest of the candidates waiting in the foyer and sat down across from Ryan to review the CV's, which Ryan had finally figured out were what they called resumes here. Percy hovered by Ryan's shoulder to put in his two cents. They all agreed on two maids, but none of the chefs. Nigel insisted that Ryan could instruct a cook on how to prepare vegan food. Percy insisted that being vegan was suspect in the first place. But Ryan insisted that he at least wanted someone who knew what vegan was. They decided they had to do more interviews. Ryan put the pad safely away in a drawer, and then headed out with Nigel to the pub. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Eight Ryan was excited to see James, and he'd given up trying to stop himself. He slipped into the dark interior of the pub and took the same seat at one end of the bar that he'd taken that first night. He smiled at James as soon as their eyes met, and he waited for him to finish up what he was doing before he came over. "Hey," he said softly. "Missed you." James' eyes lit up when he finally saw Ryan come in. "Hi," he replied, leaning on the bar opposite Ryan. "How did the interviews go? Is the castle now fully and appropriately staffed?" Ryan smirked. "Not exactly. More interviews tomorrow. None of the cooks even knew what vegan meant." He sighed a little. "Found a couple of girls to clean, though. I feel bad making someone else clean up after me, but then again, it gives them a job, right?" "Such a fine, upstanding member of the community," James joked, resting his head on his hands as he gazed at Ryan. "Besides, how much mess could you possibly make in that huge house?" "Yeah, well, the sucky thing is that dust and stuff accumulates even in rooms we never go in, you know? And anyway, I'm still used to my mom doing my laundry," he said, laughing a little. "So what does a guy have to do to get a cup of tea in this place?" He grinned at James. The way James was looking at him made him feel warm inside. 138
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James blushed. "Be right back," he said softly, and went back to put the kettle on. He returned to the bar and pulled two pints, then went back to make the tea. He returned to Ryan with a steaming mug of tea and set it in front of him. "Are you hungry? There isn't much here that you'd want to eat, though, but we could order something. Or just wait till I'm off, and I can cook for you." "Mm, thanks. I reheated some fried rice before we left the castle." He curled his slender fingers around the warm mug. "I can hold out until we get home." He wanted James to think of the castle as his home, but he didn't really have the right to expect that. "God, it's such a relief to not have a ghost babbling at me all the time," he said, taking a sip. "Percy still at it?" James asked sympathetically. "He needs a mute button." "He never shut up the entire afternoon. I heard all about his wife, and his preference for French food, and, ugh. I think he just loves the sound of his own voice." He took another sip of tea. "It's really getting tiring. I have to find a way to help him move on, just to get some peace and quiet." James laughed. "He had a wife? That's surprising." A few more people came in, and James had to serve them, but soon he returned to Ryan. "Busy tonight, huh? You know, I've completely lost track of what day it is and everything." He glanced around the pub. "And I feel like I should be talking to people, you know? Ugh, I don't know. I should just relax."
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"You've been busy," soothed James. "And you're already mingling much more than the previous Earl did. Did Nigel flip out when you told him you wanted to come here?" "I think I've numbed Nigel. He's shell shocked by my very presence." He smiled. It was nice to have someone to reassure him. "So, anyone interesting I should know? Any single gay guys in this berg?" He knew it was unlikely, but a part of him wanted to see James' reaction to the question. "Not that I know of," replied James. "There may be, but they don't advertise it." He looked around, and pointed discreetly at an older woman. "That's Gladys. She runs the local animal shelter. Likes cats more than people. They say she owns hundreds of them." He indicated a portly man. "He's the rugby coach at the high school. People take bets as to when he's going to have a heart attack on the field." "Ooh, I love cats. I should volunteer at the shelter. I used to do that at home." He was enjoying James' little tour of the locals, even though he obviously didn't care if he found an eligible bachelor or not. Just at that moment, two girls who had been at the pub for a while sidled up to the bar. They were both around twenty. One was slightly plump with blonde hair, and one was railthin with bright red hair. They giggled as they sat one stool down from Ryan. The blonde one was bolder, because finally she scooted a barstool over and smiled at Ryan. "Sorry to bother you," she said a little breathily, "But we just wanted to say hello. You must be new in town." The red-haired girl smiled and waved a little. 140
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"I am. I've only been here a couple of days, actually." Ryan smiled and held out his hand. "Ryan. Nice to meet you." He wasn't sure if he should introduce himself as the Earl or not. He thought it would be more trouble than it was worth. The girls shook his hand each in turn, and James stood back, watching. "Oh, and you're American!" the blonde almost squealed. "I knew it. Sarah here thought you were European." She finally released his hand. "I'm Jenna. This is Sarah." The redhead squeaked, "I love your hair!" Ryan blushed a little. "Oh, thanks. Yeah. I'm from California. Just moved here. Are you girls from here?" he asked. He wasn't quite sure how to relate to a pair of giggling young women, but he was determined to try. Jenna nodded. "We go to University. Sarah's from here, I'm from a town a little ways away, you wouldn't have heard of it." Sarah said softly, gaining a bit of confidence, "Why would you move to a horrible place like Elgin?" She wrinkled her freckled nose. Ryan debated whether to tell them or not, but in the end he really didn't like prevaricating. "Oh well, I kinda inherited the castle, so I thought maybe I should check it out, you know?" He felt himself blush a little. He didn't like to boast, and he was uncomfortable with telling people about it. Sarah gasped quietly, but Jenna looked confused. Sarah looked at Jenna and whispered, "He's the new Earl, you twit!" Jenna's eyes widened. "Oh! I had no idea, my lord. Forgive us." The information, instead of cowing her, seemed to make 141
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her more determined. "Well, if you need someone to show you around, I'd be glad to help." Her voice had dropped just a bit. "Oh. Thanks. Um, James here has been taking good care of me since I got here, driving me around and stuff." He smiled at James. "Have you met Sarah and Jenna?" he asked politely, dragging James into the conversation. "Not really, no," James answered grudgingly. "Can I get you girls something?" He knew they already had drinks at their table. Sarah smiled at James and shook her head, but Jenna's smile was a little more brittle. "No thanks," she said, and turned back to Ryan. "I could give you my number, if you change your mind," she suggested. Ryan smiled charmingly. "Aren't you sweet," he said in his gayest voice, on purpose. "I'm good, really." He glanced at James with a little grin, finally realizing that the girl was hitting on him. "Don't let me keep you." The girls finally got the hint and wandered off. Jenna looked disgruntled. James leaned over the bar, grinning. "You'd better get used to that," he said softly. "Or make an announcement." Ryan giggled a little. "I could just tell the reporter. That'd be the same thing, right?" James took care of a few more customers, then the door opened and a pretty young woman, typical Scottish brown hair and green eyes, strolled in. She looked straight at James and approached the bar. "Hello, James," she said softly. "I knew I'd find you still here." 142
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James stared at her. "Laura," he said, shock evident in his voice. "What are you doing here?" Ryan watched the exchange between the two, feeling a little ill. "I've come back home. I wanted to tell you personally before you heard it from anyone else," she explained. James looked over at Ryan. "Um, Ryan. This is Laura. Laura, this is Ryan. Otherwise known as the new Earl of Elgin." Ryan wondered just exactly who she was to James, but there was no good way to ask. "Nice to meet you," he said softly. Laura smiled and shook his hand almost dismissively before turning her attention back to James. "Do you think we might have a word alone together?" she asked. James' eyes narrowed. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" he said, glancing at Ryan. "James," she said, putting her hand lightly on his arm. "Please, just a few minutes. That's all I ask." Ryan watched them together. There was an intimacy there, just evident below the surface. He felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. James sighed and nodded. "Give me a minute." He looked at Ryan apologetically. "Can you excuse us for a minute? Sorry." Then he went down to the end of the bar and waited for her. Ryan sipped his tea, trying not to watch what they were saying and doing, but glancing out of the corner of his eye. 143
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Laura followed James to the end of the bar. She stepped as close to him as she could, and spoke too softly for Ryan to hear. James backed up a little, ending up against the bar. He replied quietly as well. She stepped a little closer, resting her hands lightly on James' hips, obviously entreating him. But James only gently removed her hands from his hips. He looked into her eyes and shook his head. Ryan could see Laura touching James. Clearly they knew each other very well. In fact, Laura's body language suggested that they were in a relationship, at least in the past. They spoke for a few more moments, then she leaned in close and kissed his cheek, lingering a moment longer than necessary. Then she was gone. James made his way back to Ryan, and he said shakily, "Sorry." Ryan was fascinated by the contents of his teacup suddenly. "S'ok. You're at work. It's not your job to entertain me," he said softly. He wanted to ask who she was. He wanted to know what she meant to James. But he didn't want to know, too. "That was my ex-girlfriend," he said. He shook his head. "I can't believe she came back here." He excused himself to fill some orders. Ryan had assumed it was something like that, but it didn't make it any better to know for sure. When James returned, he asked, "Why'd you break up?" 144
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James gave a shaky laugh. He looked down, and said, "She seems to think I overreacted to seeing her in our bed with another guy. Go figure." Ryan reached out and put his hand on James' arm, much as Laura had. "Oh James, I'm so sorry," he said softly. "That's awful." What he really wanted to know, he was much too afraid to ask. "It was awful," James agreed. "And I'd thought I was over it. But seeing her..." He shook his head. "I just relived every minute of it." He looked up at Ryan. "Sorry. She wanted me to give her another chance, can you believe it? I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid." Ryan swallowed hard. So he wasn't over it. He drew a deep, shaky breath. "She doesn't deserve you," he said softly. He looked down into his cup again. "I could probably have Nigel find someone to rub her out," he joked lamely. James laughed despite himself. "Thanks, but she'd probably come back to haunt me. She kept sending me letters, and finally I stopped reading them. I'm sorry to bother you with this." Ryan looked up at James. "Oh. You don't have to apologize. We're friends, James. You can tell me anything." Even if it hurts to hear it, he added silently. James smiled at Ryan. "Thanks. But I'm not sure I'm ready to relate the whole sad tale. Not here, anyway." He took a deep breath. "At least the night's almost over." Ryan wasn't sure he wanted to hear the whole sordid tale, but he would listen if James wanted to tell him. The rest of the evening went quickly, and soon it was time to leave. Ryan 145
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waited while James closed up, and then he went with him to the car. James drove in silence back to the castle, deep in his thoughts. When they were pulling into the driveway, he turned to Ryan and said, "So, you hungry? I can make some stir fry or something..." "Yeah. I am kinda hungry. I'll help you." He followed James into the kitchen. The familiarity of it was soothing. James started pulling out vegetables. "Do you know how to work the rice maker?" he asked, his head still stuck in the huge refrigerator. "Yeah. I'm not completely helpless, you know." He got out the rice cooker and then the rice. He smiled at James. "Of course I can't testify to how it'll come out." James smirked. "I wasn't saying you were helpless. Just incompetent in the kitchen." He grinned. "Peasant," Ryan sniffed dramatically. "We Earls are made for finer things," he said in a fake British accent. He measured the rice, and then the water. James rolled his eyes. "Speaking of Earls, are we alone?" He looked around as if he could see the ghosts, as he heated up the pan. Ryan laughed. "Yeah. He's not here. For once." He started up the rice cooker and leaned back against the counter. James looked over at Ryan. "I'm glad you came to hang out with me tonight," he said. Ryan smiled. "I'm glad I did, too." He couldn't stop thinking about how sad James had been when he was reminded of the earlier heartbreak. He stepped forward and 146
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put his arms lightly around him from behind, resting his cheek on James' shoulder. "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen," he said. James leaned into Ryan's touch. "Not right now, if that's okay," he said softly, putting a hand over Ryan's hand that rested on his stomach. "I'm in too good a mood to ruin it just yet." "Sure," he said. And then a huge frying pan clattered loudly to the floor. Ryan jumped back with a gasp. James jumped, too, burning his hand on the hot pan. "What the fuck was that?" He looked around; neither of them had been near the pan that now lay on the floor. "Percy?" Ryan called out. He looked around. "Percy, are you here?" He felt apprehensive. It might not be Percy. James frowned. "Damn ghost. Let me try something," he suggested, and walked over to Ryan and pulled him into his arms. Ryan gasped and whimpered. He almost fell against James and nothing had ever felt so good. Just as quickly, though, he felt himself being pulled backwards, knocked off his feet. He fell on the tiled floor on his ass. "Fuck!" James cried, running over to where Ryan had fallen. "I'm sorry," he said as he kneeled beside him. "Um, ow," Ryan said, pulling himself to his feet. "I guess it's not Percy," he said, brushing himself off. "I guess not," James echoed. "Are you hurt?" he asked with worry, hovering near Ryan.
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"No. I'm okay," he said. "Just a little sore." The silverware drawer rattled open noisily, and that was when Percy finally appeared. "He's on a rampage!" he said, sounding hysterical. "Follow me! I know someplace you'll be safe!" "Percy wants us to follow him to someplace safe," Ryan blurted, heading after the ghost towards the dining room. James paused only a second to turn off the burner under their dinner, then raced after Ryan. "Where are we going?" he called out, completely confused. "I don't know!" Ryan called back over his shoulder. As they passed down the long row of chairs, the chandelier shook violently. "Hurry!" Percy called out. Ryan darted after him, only pausing to make sure James was close behind. James followed, looking back with alarm. "Are we in danger?" he called out, still running behind Ryan. Percy guided Ryan around a sharp turn and into a small parlor off the foyer. A door flung open and Ryan stepped inside. "Yes! Tell him yes, you are in danger. In here, quickly." "Percy says we're in danger and to get in here," Ryan relayed frantically. As soon as James was inside the small, empty closet with him, the door slammed shut. The darkness was almost complete, and Ryan reached out to feel how large the closet was. He could touch both sides with his hands, so it was less than six feet square. And it was cold. He shivered. 148
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"Do you know what the hell is going on?" James whispered Percy stuck his ghostly head through the door. "Just stay calm. I'll let you know when the coast is clear." For some reason, Ryan thought to try the doorknob. It was locked. "Percy, why is the door locked?" He moved closer to James, pressing against him. "He said he'd tell us when the coast is clear." James had to try the doorknob also. "Why is it locked? Why are we safe here? Can't he just come through the door like Percy can?" Ryan tried calling out for Percy again, but this time there was no answer. "I don't know. He won't come back now." Ryan hugged his arms around himself for warmth. "I guess we're stuck for the time being." He fumbled around, reaching for a wall, and then sank to the floor. "Wonderful," sighed James. He reached out for Ryan, but didn't feel him. "Where are you? Fuck, it's cold." Ryan reached up his hand and felt James' thigh by accident. "On the floor. Come sit next to me," he said softly. "I'm really sorry about this." "It's not your fault," James said, taking Ryan's hand to guide him down. He settled next to Ryan, their hips pressed together. "What could a ghost do to us?" "Well, if he could throw me down on the floor, I'm sure he could throw me against a wall. And if he could drop a skillet, he could probably throw a knife just as easily." He didn't like the idea, but it seemed obvious that the fourteenth Earl meant them harm. "I wonder how long we'll be stuck in 149
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here," he said softly, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. James put his arm around Ryan cautiously. "Maybe he can't see us in here?" Ryan leaned against him. "At least there's nothing in here that he could hit us with. Maybe he can't get objects through walls or something." He rested his head on James' shoulder, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. It made him ache, though, yearn for more. But he'd never have more. James was straight. "Did Percy say why this was happening?" James asked softly. "He didn't say. Before, he mentioned that the fourteenth Earl thought I was, that we were..." The good thing about the dark was that no one could see you blush. "It seems that he's really homophobic. But you'd think he'd realize that there's nothing really going on." "Ryan," James said softly. "Is there really nothing going on?" Ryan's eyes widened in the dark. "What do you mean? I can't help it. Okay, I admit I like you. And I'm attracted to you. But I would never expect anything, James." He sat up a little straighter. "You're very important to me. I would never try to push you into something you didn't want." "I know," James assured him. He took a deep breath. "But, what if I did want?" He spoke barely above a whisper. Ryan gasped. "Do you?" he asked. His heart was pounding suddenly. He could still feel that brief embrace in the kitchen 150
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before he'd been knocked over. He'd been caught between hoping and not hoping since he'd met James. "I've never met anyone like you, Ryan," James said softly, looking down. "You think I'm straight. And I guess I have been, for a long time. But, a long time ago..." His breath caught. "I've never told anyone about this." Ryan reached over in the dark and took hold of James' other hand, holding it between his own. He turned towards him, even though he couldn't see him. "Never told anyone what?" he whispered. "When I was about sixteen, I was in boarding school. My father traveled a lot, and it was just easier to ship me off to school, I guess. Well, I had a friend. My best friend, I guess. He was a year older." He paused. Ryan gently stroked James' palm soothingly. Whatever it was James was trying to tell him was obviously difficult for him. He was flattered and happy that James was choosing to share something so personal with him when they'd only known each other a few days. "My father always thought we were too attached to each other," James continued. "We did everything together. We were inseparable." He leaned into Ryan's touch. "Well, my father was right I guess. We were too close to each other." "How can you be too close to someone?" he whispered. Of course he'd come out early in life and was used to living completely out in the open. "I don't even know how it happened," James said softly. "It just sort of did. We'd brush up against each other, deliberately. Share these looks. We didn't dare do much more 151
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than that. There was always strict supervision, and we didn't have a clue what we were doing. But then, we had two weeks off for spring break, and his parents were out of town, so my father agreed to let him stay over at our house. My father was called out of town on business, and I begged him to let us stay alone. He finally gave in. So that night..." Ryan was listening intently. James had fooled around with another guy. His heart was in his throat. What could make him deny it all so completely? "What happened?" he whispered, almost afraid to speak at all. James laughed softly. "It was amazing. It was wonderful. We touched and kissed and made each other come. Then my father came home. His flight had been cancelled. He caught us. Naked in my bed. There was no way we could deny what we were doing." Ryan rested his head against James' shoulder again. "Oh God. That must have been awful," he whispered. "Did you get in trouble?" He couldn't imagine how embarrassing and frightening that would have been for James. "So much trouble," James replied, trembling. "I thought my father was going to kill me. Or disown me. I think he never really forgave me, ever. But the worst part of all was yet to come. He blamed my friend. He was older, he said, he'd seduced me into depravity." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Nothing was farther from the truth. It was all mutual. But he had him shipped home. Forbade me to ever see him again. I thought I'd see him in school, at least, when I went back. That was the only thing that kept me going. But when I 152
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got back, he was gone, and his room was empty. My father had had him kicked out." "Wow." He was stunned for a moment. "Did you ever speak to him again?" he asked. It was only a few years later that they were both adults, technically. "No. My father said that if I ever talked to him again, he would never speak to me again. I was sixteen. I was scared. I was alone. By the time I was old enough to do things on my own, I did think about it. But all I'd heard was how disgusting I was, how sick it was, and.... "He shook his head. "I tried to forget it had ever happened. Buried it, I guess. It wasn't that I didn't like girls. I did. But I also liked boys. I thought it would go away. So I was a coward. I never did try to find him." It all seemed so incredibly tragic to Ryan. Like Romeo and Juliet. "Were you in love with him?" he asked in hushed voice. He wasn't sure why he wanted to torture himself with the information. He'd wondered earlier if James was still in love with Laura after seeing them together. But Ryan was beginning to suspect that he was in love, himself. With James. And for the first time he thought maybe, just maybe, someday, James could feel the same. "I don't know," admitted James. "I thought I was. But I was so young." He turned his face toward Ryan. "I was never really attracted to another man." He paused. "Until I met you." Ryan was having difficulty breathing. "All this time you've been ashamed of it," he whispered. "There was nothing wrong with what you did, you know, right?" He wanted James more 153
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than anyone he'd ever wanted, but he didn't want someone who was going to hate himself over it. "I know that, I guess," James said. "But I never really made up with my father, not really. I always knew he was ashamed of me. That every time he looked at me, he remembered that night. I guess I regret that most of all. You can see why I wanted to stay here, and never go back home." Ryan shifted and put his arms around James, pulling him in. "I'm sure he's not ashamed of you," he said softly. "I'm sure he has a greater understanding now." He stroked James' hair, only wanting to comfort him. "Did I tell you Percy passed along a message to me from my father? Maybe he can contact yours." "I don't know. I never thought of that. I'm not sure if I want to know if he hates me still." He wrapped his arm around Ryan's waist. He turned his head so his face was pressed into the other man's hair. "You smell good," he said. "Paul Mitchell shampoo," he whispered. He ran his hands down James' back, just holding him. "How could your dad hate you? You're smart and kind and funny and, well, he just couldn't. It's not possible." "You're so sweet," James breathed. "I've never had the guts to tell anyone about this before. I feel like I can trust you, Ryan. I have to tell you one more thing." "You can tell me anything, James," he said, although his stomach lurched a little when James said that. No matter what it was, it wouldn't change his opinion of his new friend.
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"When you gave me the backrub," James began, "When you touched me, and straddled me, it made me hard," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Ryan drew a sharp breath and swallowed hard. "Me, too," he admitted. Everything was intense, so on the surface. He wanted to know what that meant, but he didn't want to push. James seemed so fragile at the moment. He massaged his shoulders a little. "You're sexy," he whispered. "I couldn't help myself." James shook his head. "You're the sexy one. I love to look at you. I love to be with you. You make me feel, I don't know, but I like it," he finished shyly. "You probably think I'm stupid." "I think you're the sweetest, nicest, most wonderful guy I've ever met," he said. "And now that I know you're not a hundred percent straight, I'm gonna flirt with you a whole lot more." He smiled. "Ghost or no ghost." "I think that's what got us stuck in here as it is," he teased. "But..." he said suddenly, "What if I want to do more than flirt?" Ryan could hear the smile in James' voice and it made him smile, too. "More than flirt? Llliiikke ... what exactly?" he asked in a slightly singsong voice. He knew in his heart he would take whatever James felt comfortable giving. "Like I've wanted to kiss you, almost since we met." "What a coincidence..." he whispered. He let his fingers explore James' face lightly, until he was touching his lips. He wriggled a little closer and nuzzled against James' jaw, his own lips moving closer and closer to James'. 155
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Whimpering, James moved closer, until their lips just brushed. Ryan moaned and his arm slid naturally around James' neck. He wanted to let James set the pace, but he ached for him so badly. He parted his lips just a little and the tip of his tongue ventured out between them shyly. James parted his lips to match Ryan's, and gasped when he felt the other man's tongue. He met Ryan's tongue with his own, tentatively. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had. It was perfect. He stroked his tongue more deeply into James' mouth, swirling and moaning softly, tasting him thoroughly. He never wanted it to end. And it was James! It wasn't some random party boy he'd just met. It was this kind, complex, brave, generous guy to whom he was quickly losing his heart. Slowly, as they kissed, James raised his hand to the back of Ryan's neck. His hand tangled in Ryan's long, soft hair, and he moaned softly. Ryan was on fire for James and he wriggled closer, finally straddling his lap to deepen the kiss. The small, dark closet seemed warm and cozy now, and Ryan never wanted to leave it. He kissed James like his very life depended on those lips, that hot slick mouth, like he'd die without this contact. James moaned into Ryan's mouth, the kiss suddenly escalating in heat. His hands settled to Ryan's hips and he arched up against him instinctively. Their hardening cocks pressed against each other. Ryan whimpered, grinding down against him needily. He was still plundering James' mouth, clinging to him like a lifeline. He was so aroused he thought 156
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he might come without a touch. James wanted him. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. Finally James pulled back. He was panting, staring at Ryan's face though he couldn't really see him. "Ryan," he whispered. "Oh God..." "J-James, I," gasping for breath, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on James' shoulder. "I think I'm falling in love with you." He probably shouldn't have said it, but he couldn't hold it in another moment. Gasping, James wrapped his arms more tightly around the slender man on his lap. "Oh, Ryan, I feel the same way. I was so confused." Ryan cuddled closer, fitting his body against James', pressing his face into the crook of his neck. "I never dreamed you would like me, too." He'd never known a guy as wonderful as James. "You're the most amazing, brave man I've ever met," James responded immediately, holding him tight. "And the sexiest," he added a little shyly. Ryan grinned against James' neck. He reached out his hand and pounded on the door. He raised his head, and called out, "Percy? Let us out of here, please!" He wanted to go to bed and kiss James until they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, or whatever else James wanted to do. The door knob clicked and the door opened just a crack. James looked up. "You don't suppose this whole thing was just a ruse to lock us in a room together?" he asked suspiciously. "Not that I mind the results, but..." 157
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"I guess we'll find out as soon as we kiss out there in the open," he said softly. He climbed off of James' lap and straightened up, opening the door. He held out his hand to help James up. He had a perfect argument for the fourteenth Earl if he did attack again, though. James stood slowly, and held onto Ryan's hand as they crept out of the closet. The room was dimly lit, but compared to the closet it seemed like daylight. He held onto James' hand as they made their way towards the door and then to the foyer. "Do you want to go back to the kitchen and eat something? Or, just go to bed." His mind raced ahead to sleeping in the same bed with James again. "Um..." James' stomach grumbled. "We left everything out, maybe we should at least clean up..." "Well, the rice cooker shuts off automatically, so the rice is probably still good," he said with a little smile. He could tell that James was hungry. He didn't mind waiting. They went into the kitchen, and James turned the pan back on. He hadn't added the vegetables yet; they were just sitting out on the counter, so when the pan was hot enough he dumped them in and began to stir. The whole time he kept sneaking small glances at Ryan, shyly. Ryan fluffed the rice and slowly added it to the pan as James cooked the veggies. He bumped his hip against him playfully every now and again, giving him little sideways smiles. The anticipation was sweet. "I assume you'll be sleeping in my bed again?" James said a little hoarsely. 158
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Ryan handed him a bottle of soy sauce. "As long as you want me there. Yeah. I'd like to." He wasn't going to make any moves on James, but he wanted to be close to him. And now he could cuddle up to him without feeling guilty about it. It was domestic like before, but with an added edge of sexual tension. "Good," James replied, and after he turned off the burner, he turned to Ryan and pulled him into his arms. "I couldn't keep my hands off you a second longer," he whispered. Ryan gasped and relaxed against him. "Mmm, that's good. I was feeling a little neglected," he said quietly, smiling. His erection returned full force almost instantly, and he wondered if they would have any more ghost problems. "I never want you to feel neglected," James replied, bending down to kiss Ryan. Ryan whimpered into the kiss, but he didn't let it last long. "You should eat so we can go to bed," he said, stroking his fingers through James' hair. James moaned a little, nodded, then stepped back. He scooped some food onto each plate, and handed one to Ryan. Although both were anxious for other things, they took their time, sitting in the dining room at the end of the massive table, playfully feeding each other with smiles and soft laughter. Suddenly it was like a light had gone on in Ryan's life. He wouldn't be alone here. James wasn't going to get tired of him and stop coming over. They would be together.
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And there were thankfully no more spectral interventions. They put their plates in the kitchen and put the leftover food away, then made their way upstairs to James' bedroom. Ryan could sense James' apprehension, and as they got to the room, he took his hand and squeezed it lightly. "We don't have to do anything, you know. We can just sleep if you want," he offered quietly. "As long as I'm near you, I'll be content." James closed the door and turned to Ryan. He took a shaky breath and said, "Let's just see how it goes, okay? I want to hold you, and kiss you, and feel your body against me." James' words made Ryan moan quietly. "Okay," he said. "I'll go get ready for bed. Be right back." He slipped off to his own room and into the bathroom. A few minutes later he returned in a thin pair of boxer shorts and nothing else. He swallowed hard. "God, you're beautiful," James whispered, eyes drawn to the colorful tattoos that adorned him. Ryan's hair was loose around his shoulders. Ryan blushed and lay back on the bed, slipping between the sheets. "It's all presentation. I'm not really that beautiful," he protested quietly. "You're wrong," James said, shaking his head. He pulled off his own shirt and looked back at Ryan. "Every part of you is beautiful." You're beautiful, too," Ryan said softly. "You're everything I've ever wanted." He didn't mean to go that far, but it was true. And it just tumbled off his lips before he could stop it. 160
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. "I'm yours if you want me," he whispered as he dropped his jeans to the floor. He stood shyly in front of Ryan in just his boxers, then made his way to the bed. "I do want you. Completely. Do you mean, do you want to go out? Like be a couple?" he asked softly. He would like nothing better than to be James' boyfriend. James slid carefully beneath the covers and moved close to Ryan. "Yes. I don't do casual relationships," he said softly. "And how I feel for you, it's not casual." Ryan wriggled closer to James in the bed. "I guess that makes you my boyfriend," he said, smiling broadly. "It's about time," Percy said, hovering at the foot of the bed. He appeared to James as well, this time, though. James jumped about a foot in the air. "Is that Percy?" he gasped, looking at Ryan. "Wait, you can see him?" Ryan asked. "Yeah, that's Percy." He turned his attention to the ghost. "I thought..." Percy shrugged, picking at the lace at his cuffs. "I changed my mind." James' mouth dropped open, and he just stared at the ghost. "You mean you lied? Ghosts shouldn't be able to lie!" He looked over at Ryan. "Wait. Do you think maybe we weren't in danger at all?" "No, you are in danger, although I doubt he'd do anything serious until Ryan produces an heir. Our line dies with you," Percy said. "And I did lock you in for your own good. In a manner of speaking." He smirked. Ryan glared at the ghost. "You have to stop interfering, okay?" He turned to James. "I'm really sorry about him." 161
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James still seemed stunned from seeing an actual ghost, and he was staring at him. "You're going to go away now, aren't you?" he said to Percy. "You've helped and all that, but now I think we need to be alone." Percy stiffened. "I appeared to you to make you less apprehensive. And this is the thanks I get," he sniffed. "All right, then. I know when I'm not wanted. Despite what you may think, I am not a pervert." And with that he disappeared into thin air. Ryan groaned. "Ugh, my life is so freakin' weird." He buried his face in the crook of James' neck. James wrapped his arms around Ryan, pulling their bodies closer together. He whimpered from the contact, and his body started to respond immediately. "Did I piss him off?" he wondered vaguely. All thoughts of Percy or ghosts or castles or Earls fled from Ryan's mind when James pulled him closer. "Who cares?" he whispered, tipping his head back to look into James' eyes. He pressed against him more and kissed him again, lightly, letting James control everything. James moaned, kissing back more confidently. He rolled a little on top of Ryan, one hand starting to trail down his side. Ryan whimpered. Never had he felt such an urge to surrender completely to someone like this. Never had he wanted to give someone everything he had. He shifted beneath James a little, opening to him, running his hands all over James' bare chest, smooth and flat and hard.
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James pulled back a little, panting. He couldn't stop gazing at the other man. His hand rested on Ryan's hip, and he wanted to touch more. "You feel so good," he whispered. Ryan reached up, touching James' face lightly, smiling up at him. "You're so handsome," he whispered. "My boyfriend." He loved the way it sounded, and he licked his lips. "Touch me? Please?" He could see that James was hesitating, but he wasn't completely sure why. James smiled back. He pulled at the waistband of Ryan's boxers, and said, "Take these off? I want to see all of you." Ryan drew an unsteady breath. He reached down and carefully wriggled out of his boxers, tossing them to the floor. He nibbled on his bottom lip and looked into James' eyes. "All for you," he whispered. James's gaze slide down Ryan's sleek body, taking in all of him. His colorful tattoos, his toned muscles, and finally his hard cock nestled against his flat belly. "You're so beautiful," he whispered when his eyes made their way back to Ryan's face. "Mine." He shivered a little, panting for breath. "Yours. All yours," he murmured in agreement. "I love you." Now that he'd said it, holding it in almost hurt. He could feel James' gaze like a brand on his skin, and he ached to be touched, and to touch in return. "I love you, too," James responded. He slowly pushed down his own boxers. Ryan gasped again, looking at James. James was everything he found attractive. Slender, long limbs, pale. His 163
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hands slid down James' torso to his hips as he looked into his eyes again. Slowly, James moved closer again, pressing every inch of their bare skin together. He kept his gaze locked to Ryan's as he pulled him as close as possible, one hand on the small of his back. He moaned softly as their arousals touched. Ryan melted against him, fingers exploring everywhere he could reach. He pressed himself against James' body more firmly, rocking his hips a little with a small gasp. "I still can't believe you want me," he whispered. "It's like a dream." James smiled a little shyly. "You're so sexy you turn straight men gay," he teased. "Or at least bring out the ones in denial." Ryan smiled adoringly at him. He leaned close and kissed him again, just lightly, then slowly started kissing down the side of James' neck, open-mouthed, suckling kisses, down to his collarbone. James' head fell back and he gasped. His hand slipped lower, just to the curve of Ryan's ass, and he arched against him. His gasps turned into moans as the friction of their cocks increased. Ryan moaned against James' skin, licking into the hollow at the base of his throat. "I wanna kiss you all over," he whispered. He was sort of asking permission, but he was reasonably sure he wouldn't be rebuffed. "Oh fuck," James groaned. "Ryan, oh God, please..." He touched Ryan's soft skin as much as he could. Ryan nudged James further onto his back and rolled on top of him. He started kissing. Over his shoulder, across his 164
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chest. He lingered at one nipple, swirling around it with his tongue, before moving to the other one. "So perfect," he breathed hotly against the dampened skin. "You're so sexy, James." He kissed lower, suckling gently down James' chest. Ryan moved downward, toward the center of James' aching need. James stroked Ryan's back and hair, and watched avidly. It was only a few moments before his mouth hovered over James' cock. He rubbed his hands slowly up and down his firm thighs, staring up into his eyes. He wanted this so much, wanted to drive the other man insane with pleasure, wanted to erase all the bad memories and replace them with good ones. He pressed his lips to him and stroked at him with his tongue, moaning softly as he did so. James could only moan and cry out as Ryan licked at his cock. He kept his gaze on Ryan's face. James' reaction only fueled his need to satisfy his boyfriend. He stroked at him firmly with his tongue for another moment before he sucked as much of James' cock into his mouth as he could take. His fingers gripped at James' hips as he started to suck, pulling back and sucking him in again. James gasped and tried not to thrust up into Ryan's mouth. "So good, so close," he warned. Ryan worked for James' climax with all he had. He worshipped James' cock with his mouth, pouring all the love and affection he had into bringing him pleasure. He kneaded James' slim hips as he sucked him over and over again, speaking to him with his eyes. 165
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James was helpless, and he came hard into Ryan's mouth. It went on forever, and he gasped for breath as the pleasure washed over him. Ryan waited until he was sure James was finished, and then he licked him clean and slid up in the bed to lie down next to him. He wrapped an arm around James' waist, settling against his side with a soft sigh and a smile. "Love you," he whispered. James was still catching his breath. "I've never felt anything that amazing before," he managed to whisper, holding Ryan close with trembling arms. Ryan had never wanted so badly to please someone. He'd fooled around with guys before, certainly, but never someone he had such deep feelings for. He nuzzled against James' jaw, purring a little. James couldn't stop touching Ryan. He slid his hand between their bodies, sliding up Ryan's thigh. Getting closer. Ryan gasped a little. "Oh," he whispered, ending on a whimper. He wriggled a little closer, aching to be touched. He was so hard he was nearly trembling. Finally, James wrapped his fingers around Ryan's hard length. He bit his lip as he looked into Ryan's eyes, and stroked. "I'm sorry I'm not very good at this," he whispered as he slid his hand up and down. Ryan chuckled a little before he gasped. "Oh God, you're good." He moaned and arched his body closer. He didn't tell James that he didn't have to be that good right at the moment. Ryan was almost there already. But he knew James would have more confidence eventually. 166
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James bent to kiss Ryan as he stroked him. Ryan moaned into the kiss, hips jerking forward into James' fist. After such a long time alone it was like sensory overload. It seemed like he'd liked James forever, although it had only been a few days. His hand traveled up his arm and gripped at his shoulder as he teetered on the brink of ecstasy. James concentrated on a firm even rhythm, and he pulled back from the kiss as he sensed Ryan getting close. "I love you," he whispered, stroking faster. Ryan almost screamed his name as he came hard, thrusting helplessly. He pulsed over James' fingers, trembling violently, his cries slowly becoming whimpers. James watched raptly as he stroked him through it, then pulled Ryan into his arms. He stroked his back and nuzzled his neck. Ryan sobbed a little as he pressed against his boyfriend. "I feel like I've never been in love before this," he whispered. It was overwhelming. He felt so in tune with James, so perfectly comfortable with him. "I feel the same way," James said, holding Ryan tightly. He never wanted to let go. "I only want to make you happy." Ryan was feeling comfortably drowsy and he smiled. "Mmm, you do," he murmured. Sleep was quickly claiming him and he nuzzled into James' neck again. "So ... so ... happy..." he whispered. "Good," smiled James. "Goodnight, my sweet Ryan," he breathed, pulling the covers back up over them both. Ryan drifted off easily, more content than he'd been in ages. He slept soundly, cuddled up against James' warm body. 167
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Chapter Nine When morning came Ryan was disoriented for a moment and nearly pulled away, apologizing as he had before when he realized he didn't have to. "Good morning," he said groggily. James smiled. "Very good morning," he agreed, stretching. He leaned down and kissed Ryan softly. Ryan smiled at him. "The best morning ever," he agreed. "So now that we're, you know, officially together, do you want to move in?" he asked. James' breath caught. "As long as you want me here, I'll be here," he said. "But I mean, like, really move in. Bring all your stuff here and everything." Ryan looked into his eyes. "You don't have to if you don't want to, though." "I'd love to," James said, smiling. Ryan smiled and kissed his cheek. "I really, really need a shower," he said. He withdrew reluctantly and sat up, sliding off the bed, unashamed of his nakedness. When Ryan emerged from the shower he dressed quickly and headed downstairs. He figured James was making coffee down in the kitchen, and Nigel was probably already waiting in the drawing room. He poked his head in and smiled. "Morning," he said brightly, stepping into the room. "How are you this fine morning, Nigel?" The solicitor looked up from his notes. "I shall be much happier once the castle is fully staffed, but I am well, my lord. You seem rather cheerful this morning," he observed. 169
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"Do I?" he said with a grin. "Hmm. I guess I should tell you the news. James is moving in. Do we have more interviews lined up for today?" he asked. Nigel frowned over his glasses. "That is hardly news. The young man is here constantly," he said, clearly not getting the implication. "Wow. I didn't think you'd take the news of our cohabitation so casually, Nigel. I'm proud of you." He smiled and leaned back in his chair a little. "I might make some changes around here. You know, if there's anything I need to do to make him feel at home. Like cable TV in the bedroom or something. Nothing major." The older man paled. "Cohabitation? As in..." He seemed loathe to say it clearly. "My lord, I thought you said he wasn't..." Nigel seemed speechless for once. Ryan shrugged his shoulders, still smiling at the very thought of it. "I thought he wasn't. But I guess he is." "I see," Nigel said carefully. "And the two of you are going to live together? Openly?" The man seemed shocked. "We didn't really discuss the whole 'openly' part. I mean, I don't care. But I don't know if he will or not." He knew it was all new to James. "I didn't wanna push him, you know?" Nigel sighed. "I cannot tell you how to live your life, my lord. But do not forget there is the matter of producing an heir." "Well, gay couples have kids in the United States all the time. But we just got together last night. Having a family is kinda a discussion for another day, you know." He wasn't concerned about it. 170
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"They do? How do they manage that?" Percy asked, drifting in through a wall and taking a seat next to Nigel. Nigel cleared his throat. "Yes. Well. Be that as it may, we have the matter of the staff to finalize today. Were you up to some more interviews?" Ryan held back a giggle. "Sure. Hopefully not as many as yesterday. Are they ready now? I need coffee first." Nigel glanced at his watch. "Go ahead and have your coffee, my lord. We can begin the interviews in about half an hour." Ryan smiled and stood up. "You want anything?" he asked politely. "No thank you," Nigel answered, and sipped at his tea. "I shall await you here." James had showered and dressed, and he was just walking toward the kitchen when he saw Ryan emerge from the drawing room. "Hello again," he said, holding the door to the kitchen open for Ryan. As soon as they were through the door, Ryan slid his arms around James' waist. "Hello," he said softly, smiling at him. "Have you come to make coffee for your culinarily incompetent boyfriend?" he asked, grinning a little. James smiled and kissed Ryan as he pushed him back against the nearest counter. "I'll make my boyfriend anything he wants," he said when he pulled back. "Mmm, that sounds promising. Maybe we don't need a chef. We could cook for ourselves, couldn't we? Maybe just get someone in if we have to have a party for some reason?" He slid his hands up James' chest and around his neck. 171
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"Sounds good to me," James smiled. "It's up to you, though. You're the Earl." He bowed, then grinned. "Will I be arrested for molesting royalty?" He slid his hand down to Ryan's ass. "If you get arrested I'll protest for conjugal visits," he said softly. He leaned close and kissed him softly on the lips. "Okay, so no chef. But I need coffee..." "Coming right up," James said, disentangling himself from Ryan, and setting about brewing it. "Besides, if there was a chef, we wouldn't be able to make out in the kitchen." "An excellent point. That would be a damn shame." He came up behind James and slid his arms around him from behind as he made the coffee. "We really don't need one. Although, what about the rest of the staff? That'd suck for them to work all day and then have to cook for themselves." "Hmm. I never thought of that. This staff business is complicated." He punched the button so the coffee would begin brewing and leaned back into Ryan's embrace. "Maybe a part-time chef then?" "Hmm, you know, if they're not cooking for me, I could just hire that poor chick that started crying yesterday." He blushed a little at the thought that he'd made someone cry. He hadn't meant to. James pretended to be shocked. "You made a girl cry? You cad!" he said, deadpan. Then he smiled. He got out two mugs and filled them, handing one to Ryan. "Well, she was kinda rude. She said she wouldn't know how to cook without butter. Anyway, I don't think I would really trust anyone but you not to secretly feed me stuff I 172
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don't want." He pulled back, shrugging a little, and spooned some sugar into his mug. James leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee. "There's still gonna be other people around here all the time, though," he said, wrinkling his nose a little. "I understand they have to be here, but..." He shrugged. "Unless I just hire local people and they don't live here," he suggested. "I'll just pay them more money. There's plenty, after all." He could sense that Nigel was going to have a conniption fit, but he'd just have to learn to like it. "Whatever you want, I'll help you," James offered. He set his coffee down and pulled Ryan into his arms. "I should have joined you in the shower," he murmured in his ear. Ryan whimpered a little and melted against him. "God, how am I gonna sit there and interview people for hours now," he whispered. He should have remembered how horny he was in the morning, especially with such a gorgeous, generous boyfriend like James. "Now I can't wait for lunchtime." He pressed his lips against James' neck. James smiled and nibbled at Ryan's ear. "Just think of tonight," he teased. "I can't wait to feel you naked against me again..." Ryan couldn't suppress a low moan. "Are you gonna torture me like this all the time?" he whispered. He was fully hard now, and he rocked his hips against James. Ryan's ardor was infectious, and now James appeared aroused and needy. "Yeah," he breathed, kissing Ryan's neck. "You want me to stop?" 173
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Ryan moaned again. He glanced around. No one was in the house but Nigel, and he wouldn't leave the drawing room. His hand dropped to James' buckle. "No," he whispered. "Oh, God," gasped James. Suddenly he was achingly hard. "This is why we don't need a chef, so we can do this in the kitchen...." Ryan grinned and tugged down James' zipper. He was pleased by the way James said we. "Mmyeah. You're right. He slid his fingers down inside James' boxers. James was panting already. "Ryan," he moaned, not trying to stop him. "You make me so hard..." His fingers curled around him. "You're so beautiful to me, James."He kissed him softly and stroked him gently. James couldn't help but thrust into Ryan's hand. When the kiss ended, he gazed into Ryan's eyes and panted, "I want, oh God, want to make love to you..." Ryan whimpered. "Oh, God, James. I want that, too. But I don't want to rush things," he said softly, stroking him. The way James gave into his lust only made Ryan harder and more desperate for him. James reached down to fumble with the button of Ryan's pants, so he could touch him, too. He slid his hand inside Ryan's pants, seeking out his hardness, and whispered, "Do you want me inside you, Ryan?" Ryan was gasping now. He stared into James' eyes. "Yyes. God, yes. Want to be yours completely," he rasped. It felt so good it was difficult to concentrate on James' pleasure, but he stroked him with all the skill he could manage. 174
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"Want to make you mine," he said, stroking him faster. He pushed Ryan back against the counter. Ryan moaned louder, hoping Nigel wouldn't hear. But being pushed up against the counter put him over the edge and he came hard, suddenly, unexpectedly. He cried out James' name, shuddering. James watched Ryan come, and that made him come as well over Ryan's fingers, gasping for breath, clearly awash in pleasure. Ryan slumped against him with a goofy smile. "Yeah. Definitely no chef," he murmured, wrapping both his arms around James' neck. James held Ryan close, unmindful of their stickiness, smiling. "I love you." "Me, too. But we need to get cleaned up before Nigel comes looking for us." He wriggled out of James' embrace and ran a dishcloth under warm water. He stepped close and cleaned James off, then pulled up his boxers and jeans, kissing him lightly. "You know what this place needs? A Jacuzzi," James joked. "Ooh, I like the way you think," Ryan laughed. He picked up his mug. "Wanna sit in on the interviews?" he asked. James shrugged. "If you want me to," he said. "Maybe I might know some of them. Might be interesting." He smiled. "I'm off today anyway, so you won't get rid of me." "Rad. Maybe we can drive into the city for some real shopping this afternoon." He headed back towards the drawing room, ready to brave the task ahead of him. 175
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Nigel looked up as Ryan entered, then realized James was with him, and frowned. "My lord. Are you ready to begin?" Ryan pulled another chair behind the desk for James and then took his seat. "Yeah, but I have a change to the plan. We're not gonna have live-in staff, and we don't need a cook. But you can offer people more money since they aren't getting room and board, okay?" Nigel did not quite explode; he sputtered. "My lord. That is unheard of. You must have live-in staff. It is the way things are done. I won't hear of it." Ryan blinked a little. "Wait. Isn't it my house?" he asked. "I mean, I understand someone's gotta clean it and stuff, and keep the gardens and everything, but why do they have to live here? I don't want to live with a dozen strangers." Nigel seemed stunned. He composed himself and said stiffly, "Of course, my lord. It is your home and your choice. I am merely here to assist you." He looked down at his notepad and wrote something. "If that is what you desire, that is how it shall be." James reached over to take Ryan's hand gently. Ryan smiled at James and squeezed his hand, then turned his attention back to Nigel. "I don't mean to upset you or anything, but people would rather have enough money to have their own place, wouldn't they? That makes sense, right?" He was sure the thing he preferred was also the more egalitarian thing to do. "Yes, my lord," Nigel said, but it was clear he was just agreeing with whatever Ryan said. He very obviously was not 176
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happy with the way things were going, but he went to get the first candidate for the day, and led him in. "What do you mean the servants aren't going to live in the castle?" Percy said, appearing perched on the edge of the desk. "That's heresy!" Ryan smirked a little and took out the pad he'd been writing on before. None of your business, he wrote. The first interviewee came in. He was a gardener, and had apprenticed under the old gardener who retired when the old Earl had passed on. Ryan asked him a few questions, although he didn't know that much about gardening. He asked if he would mind keeping his own residence in exchange for more money, and the man seemed perfectly content with that idea. Ryan smiled smugly at Nigel. Nigel sulked, speaking only as much as necessary to conduct the interviews. "Is this your fault?" Percy asked James. "You know, I thought you were good for the boy, but if you're influencing him to this madness..." He folded his arms and pouted. James widened his eyes at Percy but didn't reply, just looked over at Ryan. Ryan scribbled something on the pad and nudged James, so he'd look over. I try to answer him on here, so Nigel doesn't think I'm completely insane. Percy: stfu, please. He smiled and turned his attention to the next interviewee. James suppressed a giggle and drew the pad over to himself, picking up the pen and writing, Perce? We have a thing about the kitchen, you know? Don't want to shock anyone too much. 177
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Ryan's lips twitched. It was difficult to contain his laughter, but he was being very unprofessional. He left the pad to James and did his best to ignore Percy completely, putting a few questions to the applicant about her former jobs. "The kitchen? Wouldn't you boys prefer a decent bed? Lord knows there's enough of them in this place," Percy said, hovering near James now. James wrote, And we intend to try them all. You might want to be careful where you hover in the next few weeks. Percy laughed out loud and Ryan couldn't help looking sharply over at him, wide-eyed. He looked at the pad to see what James had written, and then looked away quickly. He thanked the woman he was interviewing and asked Nigel to bring in the next one. While he was out of the room for the moment, Ryan turned to Percy. "Will you shut up?" he hissed. "We've upset your boyfriend, James. He's trying to be a proper Earl for a change," Percy said, smirking. James snickered. "I'm sorry, Ryan. It was his fault." He pointed at the ghost. "He's an instigator." He smiled apologetically at the other man. "We'll stop, I promise." He pursed his lips and frowned a little before the next applicant was led inside. This time, it was a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed young man, slender and handsome, with just a little stubble on his chin. He smiled at Ryan, and his cheeks dimpled. Ryan could only stare for a moment. "Good lord, you've got the job, darling," Percy said, gaping also. 178
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James looked back and forth from the new applicant to Ryan, and frowned slightly. He scribbled on the pad, Stop drooling. Nigel was introducing the man, who was oblivious to the consternation he was causing. Ryan cleared his throat and tried to act as professionally as he could. He conducted the interview, displaying no emotion one way or the other. Except when he was saying goodbye. "We'll let you know as soon as possible, Mr. Pretty ... I mean ... Mr. Powers." He flushed furiously, and prayed he would leave quickly. "Oh, may we keep him? Pleeeease...?" Percy asked. James was silent. Nigel left the room to usher in the next applicant, shooting a suspicious gaze at James. "Nigel," Ryan called out, standing up. "I need a few minutes break, okay? I'll let you know when I'm ready." He closed the door, leaving Nigel outside for the moment. He turned and frowned at Percy. "No, we can't." Then he turned to look at James. "What's wrong?" he asked. James looked away. "Nothing," he said. Ryan saw right through him. He walked back over behind the desk and sat on James' lap, putting his arms around his neck. "C'mon. You had to think he was gorgeous, too, right?" He leaned down and kissed his cheek. "He was prettier than me!" James shook his head. "No one's prettier than you," he said. He put his hands on Ryan's hips, looking up at his face. "It's just all so new, you know?" he whispered. 179
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He gazed into James' eyes. "You know I love you for a lot more reasons than that you're beautiful, right?" he said softly. James looked down. "I'm not beautiful," he said. Ryan kissed him softly on the lips. "You are. In so many ways," he whispered. He hadn't meant to make James feel insecure. He was just momentarily distracted by the young man's exceptional prettiness. But he didn't want that. He didn't want someone he had to compete with, anyway. He wanted James. "I'm an idiot. I'm sorry," James said. "Don't be sorry, baby." He stroked his fingers through James' hair. "I'm sorry if I made you feel jealous." James smiled a little mischievously. "Maybe you can make it up to me later..." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. His hand dropped to Ryan's thigh. "Ooh, I definitely will. Maybe we should explore some more rooms later this evening," he said, nibbling on James' ear. "Sounds perfect," said James, with a moan in his voice. Ryan traced the edge of James' ear with the tip of his tongue. "You sound funny, James. Are you all right?" he purred, wriggling a little on his lap. James gasped softly as Ryan pressed deliberately against his erection. "Not really," he whispered. "I seem to have a problem." "Oh? Is it something I can help you with?" he murmured, still nuzzling James' ear. 180
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James' head fell back a little bit, and his breath quickened. "Oh yes. And you should, because it's all your fault," he added. Ryan looked around. "Now would be a good time to disappear, Percy," he commented. But there was no answer. Ryan shrugged and slid off James' lap onto his knees on the floor in front of him, smiling up. "Oh, God," gasped James, looking down at Ryan on his knees. Ryan leaned over James' lap. His nimble fingers opened James' jeans quickly, gently tugging out his cock. "I did lock the door, right?" he whispered, looking up at him. James whimpered. "I don't know. I don't care. Don't stop." Ryan loved how desperate James was for him. He didn't torture him any longer. He sucked him deep into his mouth. "Ryan..." James gasped, as the wet heat enveloped him. Ryan sucked him hard and fast. He knew James was on edge already. It wasn't going to take much to bring him to climax. He wanted to overwhelm him completely. James was soon gasping for air. "Gonna ... oh, God, gonna come..." Ryan swallowed, pulling back just a little. He waited until he was sure James was done, rubbing his hands up and down his thighs. Then he sat up, climbing to his feet and sitting next to him again. He smiled adoringly at him. "Do you feel better now?" he asked. James slumped back in his chair, still panting. "Fuck yes," he said, smiling weakly. "Are you gonna do that every time I get upset?" he teased. 181
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Ryan grinned. "I guess it depends on what you're upset about." He leaned close and kissed James on the cheek. James moved so he could kiss Ryan on the mouth. Then he pulled back and whispered, "If you really want to hire the pretty boy..." Ryan laughed a little. "You just want me to feel guilty and make up for it on a regular basis. Actually, he didn't really have any experience. I think it's best not to." There was a discreet knock on the door then. James looked up. "Nigel with the next victim, I mean applicant?" he wondered, standing up on slightly shaky legs. Ryan went and opened the door, still a little flushed. "Okay, we're ready," he said breathlessly. Nigel introduced the next applicant, an older woman who was looking for a housekeeping job. James sat down and kept his mouth shut while Ryan interviewed her. Percy was thankfully absent for the rest of the proceedings. Ryan interviewed three more people and then consulted with Nigel about whom to extend offers to. Everyone seemed content with not living in the castle. They called it a day, finally, and Ryan thanked Nigel for his help. The castle was sufficiently staffed, at last, although the idea of a butler was vetoed by Ryan. When the door finally closed again, he sighed and smiled at James. "Alone at last." James wasted no time pulling Ryan into his arms. "It's hard work keeping my hands off you," he whispered. "Do you think Nigel had a clue what we did when he left the room?" he snickered. 182
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Ryan laughed. "Yeah. I think he had an idea. But the aristocracy are supposed to be erratic and eccentric, right?" he asked, leaning against him. James smirked. "I wouldn't know. You're the only aristocracy I know." He rested his hands on Ryan's hips. "Are you tired? Or would you like to go over to my apartment so I can pick up some things?" "Sure. We can go over there. We should baptize that poor, sad beige couch, too." He giggled a little. He pulled back and took James' hand. "Oh, is there a pharmacy we can stop at?" "Sure," James answered, then frowned. "You're all right, aren't you?" he asked with concern. "Oh, I'm good. I just need some stuff." He flushed a little when he said it. "Don't you worry your little head about it." James raised an eyebrow. "Okay. You ready to go now? We could grab something to eat while we're out. If you're tired of my cooking." "Probably ought to sample the local delicacies," he agreed. "Just let me get my coat." He put on the new coat. It was more conservative than the fuzzy jacket, but it was also warmer. James got his own jacket, and they went out to James' car. James opened the door for Ryan, smiling like an idiot. He drove them to the small town's high street, and parked the car. "There's a pharmacy just on the corner," he said. "It should still be open." Ryan climbed out of the car. "Do you want to come with me? Or wait? I'll only be a couple of minutes." 183
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James looked at Ryan and shrugged. "It's up to you. If you need privacy..." "You can come if you want to. It might cause a stir if the pharmacist is a gossip, though." James raised an eyebrow. "Um, okay. I'll wait then. Don't run off with any pretty boys, okay?" He climbed out of the car and hung in the window for a moment. "There's only one I want to run off with, and he's sitting in this car," he said with a wink. Then he straightened and wandered into the Chemists. He returned a few minutes later with a small bag and climbed back into the car. "Okay. On to Chez James." James drove them to his apartment and parked. They walked into the apartment, and James started packing a few things. "I guess we should have got some boxes or something," Ryan said, looking around. James smiled and looked over at Ryan. "You sure you want my junk messing up your pretty castle?" he joked. He walked into the kitchen. "I'm sure I haven't got anything here that your kitchen doesn't already have." Ryan stepped up behind James and slid his arms around him, leaning against his back. "You know, since you're moving in, it's kinda your castle, too. I mean, I know all this just happened, but if you're gonna make it your home, you should think of it that way, okay? Bring whatever you want to bring. Bring everything. Maybe we'll build a kitchen on the second floor in case we're feeling really lazy some time." 184
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"Mmm," moaned James, leaning into Ryan's touch. "It sounds wonderful. And sex in the kitchen is really fun." Ryan smiled and nuzzled into James' neck. "You wanna bend me over a counter and have your way with me?" he breathed. That was definitely something he intended for James to do, but not the first time. James' moans turned deeper. "God, Ryan, you make me want you so much," he whispered, taking Ryan's hand. "I hope you don't think ... that's all I want." Ryan smiled and moved around in front of James, sliding his arms around his neck. "Are you worried about that? We were getting along pretty well before we started fooling around." James shrugged and looked down. "It's just every time I'm near you I'm hard now, it seems. I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea." Ryan leaned up and kissed him lightly. "You insatiable thing, you. Let's get some of your stuff packed up. We have all night." James found some boxes and they started to pack up some clothes and CDs. He didn't have a whole lot of stuff; there was a storage space back in Oakland that held all his parents' things that he hadn't wanted to deal with. He just had enough stuff to live with. Soon, they had a carload and they carried it down to James' car. "So ... are you getting hungry yet?" James asked. "Mm, I could eat," he said, grinning. "I could use another shower, too, after we haul all this up all those stairs." Ryan 185
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toyed with the idea of installing an elevator as they headed back to the castle. "Why don't we get dinner before we get all sweaty then?" James grinned. "There's not much to choose from, but there's a good Indian place. They have lots of vegetarian entrees." "Ooh, okay. I love Indian food." He'd forgotten they were going to try a restaurant for a change. "India used to belong to the U.K., right?" He felt completely ignorant about British culture. "Yes," answered James as they drove toward the restaurant. "And especially in England there are Indian restaurants everywhere. Like Mexican places in the U.S." He found a parking place easily; it was early for dinner yet. Ryan followed him inside, and they got a table just as easily. He looked over the menu, and there were a lot of yummy-looking vegan-friendly dishes. James smiled as he watched Ryan from behind his menu. "Anything look good?" he asked. "Yes. You know, I didn't realize how hungry I was until I started reading the menu," he said, laughing a little. A couple of waiters hovered to the side, talking among themselves. One of them disappeared into the back, and a moment later an older man came to their table. "My lord, it is my very great honor to serve you in our humble restaurant," he said, bowing slightly. Ryan blinked. "Oh. Um..." He wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Thanks. I'm sure the pleasure is mine." He looked helplessly at James. 186
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James hid a grin. It looked like news was getting around. Suddenly the table was surrounded by waitstaff, and they were being waited on hand and foot. "Sorry," he whispered to Ryan. Ryan ordered, assuring the proprietor that he didn't have to go to so much trouble, but it was no use. He bore it all with grace, thanking everyone over and over again. It seemed as if his gratitude only redoubled their efforts. When he mentioned that he was a vegan, the owner promised that there would be more vegan dishes on the menu the next time Ryan graced them with his presence. In a brief moment that they were alone, James said, "I think you're going to have to get used to this." At least there had been no notice taken of the fact that James was with him. No doubt that fact would spread once it was noted. But the food was excellent, and they had to insist on paying, because the owner did not want to take their money at first. After thanking them for a good five minutes, they finally got out of the restaurant. Ryan wasn't sure about the wisdom of eating before hauling James' stuff now that he was feeling stuffed and a little sleepy, but at least it would burn some calories. They pulled into the driveway, and Ryan opened the front door. "Now is one of those times servants would come in handy," he quipped, picking up a box from the trunk and heading up the long winding staircase. They got James' stuff put in a spare room, and by then they were both sweaty. James pulled off his shirt and looked at Ryan. "I need a shower," he said. 187
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Ryan looked at James' chest, feeling his body start to react immediately. "Me, too," he said, licking his lips. He pulled off his own shirt, too, and tossed it at James, with an evil grin. James ducked the thrown shirt and grinned back. "We really should conserve water," he suggested, unbuttoning his pants. "You think? I need someone frugal like you to keep an eye on me." He kicked off his shoes. "I'll go run the water," he said, unzipping his jeans as he walked to the bathroom. James shed the rest of his clothes and followed Ryan to the bathroom. He stopped when he saw him bent over, naked, adjusting the shower. He just gazed for a long moment. "Nice view," he commented. Ryan glanced back over his shoulder, not bothering to straighten up. He looked James over thoroughly. "From here, too." He did straighten up, then, and stepped under the water, smiling invitingly at him. James crossed the room slowly, moving toward the shower. He stepped into the shower, standing close, but not touching. Ryan stepped closer to him and put his hands lightly on James' hips. His hair was already dampened by the spray. "Welcome home," he said softly. James whimpered as their cocks brushed together. "You make me so happy," he whispered, bending to kiss the other man slowly. Ryan slid his arms around him and surrendered to the kiss, pressing his warm, wet body against him. James made him happy, too. More than he could possibly say. 188
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James kissed Ryan more deeply, sliding his hands down the other man's slick skin. He stopped with his hands on Ryan's perfect ass, pulling him closer. Ryan moaned into the kiss. The possessive way James grabbed him only made him harder. He ground their cocks together, touching him everywhere he could reach. James began to rock against Ryan, gasping at the way their wet cocks felt together. As he got more aroused, he got more dominant, and pushed Ryan back against the wall. Ryan whimpered, leaning back, letting James push him. He loved the way he took control. It was so sexy. He was already getting close, himself. "You like that?" James breathed, looking into his eyes. He pushed him against the wall a little more firmly. "Y-yes. I like it," he rasped. He wriggled against him, rubbing more insistently. "It's really hot when you get like this," he whispered. James was panting now. He reached up and grabbed a handful of Ryan's hair and pulled. "You like it rough?" he nearly growled. Ryan grunted a little, and his hips jerked forward of their own volition. "Oh God, yes, James. Nnnhhnn ... Feels so good," he moaned. James rocked faster against him. "You're mine," he whispered, letting the dominance take over. "You'll do anything for me..." He tugged harder at Ryan's hair. Ryan moaned loudly. "Yours. Yes, James. Anything..." He was panting hard, so close to the edge. "I'm gonna. Oh, fuck, James..." 189
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James slid his hands all over Ryan's body, claiming him. "Mine," he moaned, thrusting faster. "Scream, baby..." Ryan tipped his head back and screamed out his orgasm. His body shook with his release and his hands gripped at James' shoulders tightly. He'd never had so intense an experience in his life. James started to come almost as soon as Ryan did; he watched his beautiful boyfriend in the throes of passion, and was overwhelmed himself. Ryan was still gasping for breath for long moments afterwards. He smiled dreamily at James. "Love you," he said softly. "I can just imagine what real sex is gonna be like." "I don't know if I'll survive," he murmured, holding Ryan tightly against him. The warm water rinsed away the evidence of their desire. Ryan smiled, pressing his cheek against James' shoulder. After cuddling for a few moments in the wet heat, Ryan pulled back and started to wash his hair, then washed James' hair, smiling as he massaged the suds into his scalp. They kissed and touched gently as they rinsed off. Ryan felt refreshed and clean and sated all at once. All the 'work' for the time being was done, and it was still relatively early evening. He dressed in warm, not too tight jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, and tied his hair back in a bun while it was wet. "So, should we go exploring?" he asked with a little grin. James smirked. "I assume you mean the house," he joked. They'd seen only a fraction of it. "I'm up for it." He pulled a tshirt over his head. "Lead on." 190
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Ryan laughed lightly. "Oh, there's plenty of time for other types of exploring. Don't you worry." He took a candle from the mantle and lit it from the fireplace. He supposed he could just turn lights on as they went, but it seemed more atmospheric this way. He reached out and took James' hand. "You never know. There might be an even nicer bedroom in here, and we're robbing ourselves of the height of luxury." "I don't care about what the bedroom looks like as long as you're in it," James said, squeezing Ryan's hand. Ryan headed down the corridor, stopping to open each door and check them out thoroughly. Several of them still had personal trinkets of previous occupants, and Ryan wondered about them. Finally, at the room at the opposite end from the pink room he heard something. He paused at the door. "Do you hear that?" he asked James in a whisper. James frowned and listened. "Sounds like someone crying." It was unnerving, because they knew they were the only living people in the castle. It looked like they had another ghost. "Sounds like a girl," Ryan replied. He put his hand on the doorknob and looked at James for a moment before opening it. There, by the window, was a shadowy figure of a woman. It was difficult to tell how old she was, but she was neither a child nor an old woman. Ryan stepped carefully into the room. "Hello?" he said cautiously. The ghost looked around, facing Ryan and James but her features were still indistinct. She drifted closer, and a few more details became clear. She was quite beautiful, but looked sad. Her dress was intricate and expensive-looking. 191
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She gave a faint sniffle then said tentatively, "You are the Earl?" Ryan swallowed. He could feel the sadness emanating from her and it almost made him sad also. "The current one, yes," he said softly. The energy in the room was heavy and somber, and despite his good mood a few minutes previous, he felt himself being dragged down into it. James still held Ryan's hand and he squeezed it comfortingly. The ghost drifted closer, peering more closely at Ryan. "I did not know the last one passed. I do not often concern myself with these things." She seemed to study him. "You do not look like the others." Ryan blushed a little. "I don't? I kinda see a little resemblance." He nibbled on his bottom lip and sidled closer to James. "The last Earl just passed away a couple of weeks ago. I've only been here for a few days." He wasn't sure what to say to her. "Why are you crying?" The woman seemed surprised by the question and she was silent for a moment. Then she whispered, "I cry, because it is what I do. I exist in sorrow. I cannot leave this place. I wish to, but I cannot." "But why can't you leave?" Ryan asked quietly. He just wanted to curl up in James' arms and sob. It seemed so tragic. "I do not know," the woman replied, her very voice tinged with sadness. "I fear I am doomed to wander these rooms forever; the rooms that housed me in sorrow while I lived." James pulled Ryan closer to his side. 192
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The ghost looked more closely at the two of them. "You must indeed be a blood relation," she said even more sadly. "The curse lives on." She began to drift away. "Curse? What curse?" he asked. "Wait. Don't go. What curse?" He pulled away from James to take a step towards her. "Please don't leave. What's your name?" he asked more gently. "My name is Sophia," she said, halting her departure. "I believe you may have met my son, who also haunts this castle. He was the eighteenth Earl of Elgin." Ryan's eyes widened. "You're Percy's mom?" he asked, astonished. "Oh, um. Yes. I've met him. But what's this about a curse?" he asked. Sophia regarded how close the two men were standing, and said delicately, "Forgive me if I assume too much. But I have had some experience." She paused. "You are like Percival. You do not like women." Ryan blushed. He'd never considered being gay anything but a good thing. Certainly not a curse. "Um. No. Well, not that way. I guess your husband was like that, too?" he asked delicately. "Yes," the ghost snapped, distressed. "It was all I could do to produce one heir." She turned away, her anger dissolving into sadness once again. "I was so lonely. I was when I was alive, and even death has not spared me that." Her voice was even quieter now. "I thought it would be different, but he could not even bear to kiss me."
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"Wow. That sucks. No wonder Percy married a lesbian. Did you love him? Your husband, I mean," he asked, hoping it didn't sound too callous. "I did not even know him before we were betrothed," she answered. "It was arranged. But I grew to love him. I thought he was being patient with me, because we were not well acquainted. But..." She trailed off and turned suddenly to face Ryan, and demanded, "Do you have any idea what it is like to love someone who cannot stand your touch?" Ryan was taken aback. "I, no. I haven't. I'm sure it must be awful," he said softly. "Is there anything we can do to help you find your way on?" he asked. The woman looked at them curiously. "Help me? You would help me?" James wrapped his arm around Ryan to comfort him. "We want you to be at rest," he said softly. Ryan leaned against James. "Yeah. We would like to help you. Any way we can. We'd like to help Percy, too." He meant it sincerely. Even if it felt like Percy was the only thing standing between them and the mean ghost, he still wanted Percy to be at peace. At the mention of her son, the ghost seemed sad again. "I am his mother. I should have been able to save him." "Save him from what?" he blurted out. But then it occurred to him that they didn't even know how Percy had died. "From him," Sophia said, looking up at the ceiling. "I did not believe the tales. I never saw them." "Saw who? What tales?" Ryan was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about. It was really what he 194
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expected from a ghost. Percy just happened to be exceptionally lucid. "I believe now, of course," the ghost said with a soft laugh. "When I saw my son again, and we were both chained to this place, then I believed. But only then." "You mean. Something about how Percy was killed? How did he die? You mean someone in the castle killed him?" He wanted to shake her. He should have just asked Percy. Sophia drifted closer. "That horrible man. Is it not torture enough that I lost my son in the prime of his life, but that I must spend all eternity with his murderer?" Ryan blinked. "Do you mean the fourteenth Earl killed the eighteenth Earl? Percy was murdered by a ghost?" he glanced at James who seemed to have gone mute. James shrugged at Ryan. "Can ghosts do that? But he did push you the other day." He looked back at Sophia, alarmed. "My Percival was a delicate boy, he always was," the ghost said softly, looking away. "I should have kept him safe." "Delicate? Mother, really..." Percy said, lingering near the door, as if he was afraid to enter the room. Ryan spun around and looked at him, wide-eyed. "You didn't tell me that you were killed by a ghost!" he said, accusation in his voice. "Are we in real danger here?" Percy rolled his eyes. "Not until you've bred. He wouldn't dare do any serious damage until there's a rightful heir." "Percival!" Sophia snapped, every inch the scolding mother despite her ghostly status. "That is not how I brought you up. Show a bit of class befitting your station. Not that you did while you were alive." 195
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"Oh, God," whispered James, mostly to himself. "It's a fucking ghost soap opera." To Ryan's surprise, Percy stood up straight and sketched a ghostly little bow to his mother. "I was only stating the truth. Maxim wouldn't run the risk of ending the line. It was a spot of bad luck that that chandelier chain had a weak link." Ryan again reached for James' hand and held it tightly. "A chandelier fell on you?" he asked. Percy smirked. "Yes. One that he was rattling rather menacingly as I welcomed my lover in the front hall." James coughed a little, whispering in Ryan's ear, "Welcoming? Is that what they called it then?" Sophia gave a little sniff. "You always were indiscreet. But that Maximilian is evil." She turned to Ryan. "You must guard yourself against him." Ryan's lips twitched at James' comment, and he tried not to laugh. "Yes, ma'am," he said respectfully. "But can you not move on because Percy can't move on?" he asked. There had to be a way to resolve their issues. "I told her to go ahead. It's not as if she's doing me any good. There's nothing he can do to me now," Percy said. Sophia's mouth set in a stern line. "We spectres may not be able to affect each other, but the coward does avoid me," she said disapprovingly. She turned back to Ryan. "It is not up to us to decide when to move on," she explained. "There have been other ghosts, and they do move on when it is their time." She floated closer to Percy. "It is a small comfort at least that my son is with me now. You have no idea what it 196
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was like to see him dead..." She gave a soft sob and turned away. Ryan started backing away a little. "Well I guess we'll just leave you be, then. It was nice meeting you." He tugged James along with him, back towards the door. There was nothing that could be solved by being in her melancholy presence. He was sure that if they could find a way to let Percy move on, his mother would follow. As they left, Sophia drifted closer to her son. "Percival," she began in a disapproving tone, "Have you been meddling again? Those boys knew who you were..." As Ryan backed out of the room with James and shut the door, he could still hear them talking quietly behind it. He turned to James in the hallway. "We have to talk to Maxim again," he said quietly. James groaned. "Why, so he can tell us we're both perverted?" he said, shaking his head. He glanced around. "No, to find out about Percy's death! Maybe we can get rid of all of them. Wouldn't that be rad? C'mon, please? If it gets scary we'll stop, okay?" He looked into James' eyes pleadingly. James looked back into Ryan's wide eyes and melted. "I can see how easily you're going to be able to manipulate me," he said. "One look from those eyes and I'm mush." He sighed. "All right. Now?" Ryan beamed at him. "We don't have to do it right now, but if we got it over with, then we could just relax for the rest of the evening." He raised an eyebrow. "And I mean that in the dirtiest sense of the word." 197
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James smirked. "You're completely unscrupulous, you know that?" Ryan laughed and led James back downstairs. He'd put the ouija board supplies away in a drawer and when they reached the drawing room, he took them out again. He spread the letters back out on the low coffee table again, and put the glass upside down in the center of the table. "We should get that flashlight, just in case," he said, lighting some candles around the room with the matches from the fireplace. "I'll light a fire. Could you go get it?" James started to go to the kitchen to get a flashlight, then paused. "Maybe I should get an extra glass," he suggested. "You sure you want me to leave you alone?" "Yeah. I'll be fine. Remember what Percy said. And anyway, you can't babysit me twenty-four-seven." He smiled at him as he crouched down in front of the fireplace, stuffing some pieces of kindling under the larger logs. James was about to go, but his gaze went automatically to Ryan's ass as he bent over. Ryan's shirt had ridden up and the jeans pulled down, and a good portion of his pale skin showed, including the top of his ass. James stepped back into the room, distracted. "If you want me to go, you shouldn't do that," he said, a little hoarsely. "Can we skip to the relaxing part?" Ryan looked around, confused for a moment, but then he saw where James was looking and he straightened up, blushing. "You perv. Hurry up. Maybe we can get this over with quickly," he laughed. 198
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"You made me a perv," James shot back, but he went to retrieve the flashlight. He returned with a flashlight and a spare glass in case the ghost had another tantrum. He set them on the table and went to stand by the now-roaring fire. Ryan knelt next to the table. "You ready?" he asked. "I think we'll be able to get him pretty easily, under the circumstances." He looked up at James, smiling, his eyes roving over his body just briefly. "Under the circumstances?" he asked, coming to sit across from Ryan. "Well with so much activity going on, I meant." He put his fingers on the glass and waited for James to do the same. He pushed the glass around in a circle a few times before letting it come to rest in the center of the table. "Are there any spirits in the room?" he asked softly. James bit his lip and tried to stay quiet. After a moment, they felt a chill in the room and the glass started moving. The glass slid over to the piece of paper upon which Ryan had written yes. He took a deep breath as the glass returned to the center of the table of its own accord. "Okay. Is this the fourteenth Earl?" he asked hesitantly. The glass moved to no, and James looked up at Ryan, eyes wide. "Who are you?" he demanded. The glass moved to the number two and then the number five, and then the t and the h in a row. Ryan looked up at James, his brow furrowed. "Twenty-fifth? Twenty-fifth ... Ohh, twenty-fifth Earl? Is that who you are?" he asked. The glass moved again to the yes. 199
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James frowned and looked up from the board to Ryan. "Which number are you?" "Twenty-six," he said, biting his lip. "Whoa," said James. "So this is the Earl that just died?" Again the glass moved to the yes. Ryan stared back at James across the table. "Did you appear at the foot of my bed on my first night here?" Once again, the glass moved to the center and then to the yes. Ryan sighed. "This is gonna take forever," he whispered, as if the ghost couldn't hear him. "Yeah, too bad they can't just send an e-mail," James sighed. "Why have you not moved on?" he asked the ghost. The glass started to move again. P-r-o-t-e-c-t-i-n-g-y-o-uf-r-o-m-1-4, it spelled out. Ryan raised his eyebrows. "So, what's his problem, anyway? Did he really drop a chandelier on Percy?" he asked. He wondered if it was disrespectful to talk to ghosts that way, but he answered. The glass again moved to yes. James frowned. "Do you think he did it on purpose, or it was an accident?" There was a whoosh of air in the room and then suddenly the ghostly figure of the twenty-fifth Earl of Elgin appeared before the hearth. "Of course it was an accident! An Elgin would never murder another Elgin!" he said, clearly exasperated. Ryan nearly toppled over. He scrambled away from the apparition, his back against the couch. "Oh," he said quietly, trembling a little. 200
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James moved closer to Ryan, wrapping an arm around him protectively. "Well, this will save time," he observed dryly. He addressed the ghost. "But an Elgin would try to frighten the hell out of another Elgin." "Well, we are ghosts. That is rather part of the description," he said with an elegant shrug. Ryan could only gape at him. He'd only just seen him in the video a few days ago. "So. Why do we need protection?" he asked, leaning against James. The ghost drifted a bit closer. He looked much better as a ghost than he had in the video. "Well," he said, looking a bit discomfited, "accidents can happen. So I thought I might just hang around a bit to ease your way." He looked at James. "Though it would seem you're finding your way just fine." James looked back at the ghost. "Um, pardon my asking, but were you like the other Earls?" The ghost's back stiffened a little. "I was faithful to my countess for as long as she lived," he said. "I wasn't implying you'd done anything about it," James corrected himself. "I just wondered if ... I'm sorry." He softened a little at that and gave James a tentative smile. "Quite all right, dear boy." Ryan frowned a little. "But do you know why the fourteenth Earl can't move on? Or Percy, for that matter? I mean, I think Percy's mom would leave if he did." It was all like a big puzzle and he felt like if he could just find the last piece he'd solve everything. The ghost was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I am new to this plane, but I believe I have an idea." He drifted 201
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closer. "Maximillian feels guilty for what he has done. He seeks forgiveness from Percival, though he will not admit it. Perhaps if they would just communicate..." "I knew it! I knew that was the problem! He seemed like that type." He beamed at the ghost and then at James. "So we just have to get Maxim to apologize to Percy." When he said it aloud it sounded more difficult, and his smile dimmed. James looked at Ryan, then back at the ghost. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions on how to make that happen." The ghost shook his head. "Maximillian is proud, and stubborn. I will try to speak to him, but he does not like company." "Shit. Okay, so maybe it's not as easy as it looks," Ryan said, sighing. But he looked at the ghost again. "So you stuck around here just to protect me?" he asked. The ghost nodded gravely. "I felt badly that we had never met in life. I fully intended to contact you while I was alive. Imagine my surprise when I woke, and was still here." The man chuckled dryly. "Will you stay until we resolve this?" James asked anxiously. "I will. I will stay the course. I should tell you that Percival did not need to lock you in that closet, but I suppose it all turned out right in the end." He smirked a little. James blushed. "Were you all watching?" That made him laugh. "No. Good heavens no. That would only have made me jealous." 202
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Ryan blushed, too. "So, what about the fourteenth Earl? He's not like us?" he asked. "He'd like to think so," the Earl said softly. "But if you ask me, I think he doth protest too much." "Thank you for all your help," Ryan said. He glanced at James. He didn't think the twenty-fifth Earl could tell them anything more, and he wanted to be alone with James. "Yes. Thank you," James added, catching Ryan's look. "You've cleared things up a great deal." The ghost looked back and forth between the two of them. "It was my pleasure. I am happy that you two have found each other. But do not forget you must produce an heir. Somehow." Then the ghost was gone, as if he had never been there at all. Ryan leaned against James. "Wow. That's a lot to absorb," he said softly. It was kind of nice just sitting there on the floor in front of the fire. James pulled Ryan closer. "Things are never boring around you, are they, baby?" He smiled and kissed him gently. Ryan smiled lazily. "I'm trying to make them just a little less chaotic," he whispered. "I like it when you call me baby." "I like it when you moan for me," James purred, pulling Ryan onto his lap. Ryan put his arms around James' neck, settling against him. "Mm, you do? Well, I guess we should go up to the bedroom and see what you can do to make me moan, then, huh?" He slid his fingers through James' hair and kissed him, in no particular hurry. 203
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James was hard again, and his hands roamed over his boyfriend. He kissed back, fingers sliding under the hem of Ryan's shirt, exploring the smooth skin. Ryan whimpered a little into James' mouth, swirling around his tongue languidly. His fingers explored the back of James' neck, mapping his skin, finally massaging his shoulders. Ryan loved touching and being touched, and it was all so new with James he just wanted to wallow in it. He pulled back a little, finally, panting already. "C'mon, let's go get all cozy and naked under the covers," he whispered, moving off his lap. James wasn't about to argue. "Anytime, anyplace," he breathed, and they stood up. It took them several minutes and lots of kisses, but they finally made it back to the bedroom. Ryan tugged James over to the bed and pushed him back onto it, holding up a hand to keep him still. "Just lie back for a couple of minutes, okay?" He smiled flirtatiously and pulled his t-shirt up off over his head, letting it fall to the floor. He licked his lips as he toed off his shoes and unzipped his jeans. James lay back and watched Ryan hungrily. He was so hard he ached now. "You're so sexy," he panted, leaning up on his elbows to watch his boyfriend's body revealed for him. Ryan wriggled out of the tight jeans and then kneeled on the bed beside him. He slid his hands up under James' shirt, pushing it up. "The only question is, do you want to make love?" he murmured, leaning down over James to kiss his neck. "We can wait if you want. It's totally up to you." James whimpered under Ryan's touch. "Oh God, I want to," he said softly, blushing. "But I've never, with a guy." 204
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"I know," he whispered against James' skin. His fingers trailed downwards, unbuckling his belt. "It's up to you. We don't have to do it now." Ryan wanted James badly, but he knew they could satisfy each other in other ways, too. "Don't be nervous. I love you." James looked up at Ryan as he unfastened his pants. "Do you want it?" he breathed. "I want to know, tell me what you want..." Ryan licked his lips as he leaned over James, tugging his zipper down slowly and carefully. "I want you," he whispered. "I want to feel your body pressing me into the bed. I want to feel like our bodies are one, joined together. I want to stare into your eyes as you come inside me, and know that I belong to you and only you," he breathed. James moaned. "God, Ryan," he gasped. "No one's ever made me feel this way. We were meant for this.... "He lifted his hips so that Ryan could pull his jeans and boxers off. "Want to be inside you, baby..." Ryan stripped James, touching him as he did so, almost everywhere. He took his time, torturing them both. Finally, he lay down beside him on the bed. He reached over to the drawer to the side and pulled out a tube and a foil packet. "I have to, you know. It's been a while since I've actually done it with anyone." James' eyes widened. "You have to what?" "I have to prep myself. Like, stretch myself." He blushed a little at the explanation. "Just watch. A lot of people think it's kinda sexy." He nibbled on his lip and looked into James' eyes for a moment before he spread some lube on his fingers and 205
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pulled his knees up high and wide. Ryan gasped softly as he slid one finger inside his own body. He watched James' face, wanting to see his reaction. He quickly slid another finger inside and started scissoring them back and forth gently, twisting them and moving them in and out. James watched those fingers, sliding in and out. He looked back up at Ryan's face. "Does it hurt?" "Not really," he answered breathily. He slid a third finger in. "Not if you go slowly at first." He was just about ready, and he slid his fingers out. James licked his lips, paying close attention. "Do you have to do that every time?" he asked. He looked down. "Sorry I'm so stupid." Ryan smiled a little shyly. "Depends on how often we have sex," he said. "You know, you are allowed to touch me." James blushed. "Now you're making fun of the poor ignorant straight boy," he said, jokingly. He reached out and ran his hand down Ryan's chest. Ryan tore open the condom packet. "Sorry about this," he said. He turned towards James a little and ran his hand lightly up his thigh for a moment before curling his fingers around him. He deftly rolled the condom down the length of James' cock. James moaned as Ryan touched him. "I love you, Ryan," he whispered, hand sliding down Ryan's side. Ryan used a little more lube to slick the condom. He knew James was probably just hesitant because he felt like he didn't know what he was doing. So, he rolled over on top of him, knees straddling James' hips widely, sitting up. He 206
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leaned back a little and reached down between their bodies to position him correctly. Slowly and carefully, he eased himself down until the head of James' cock penetrated him, and he gasped. "Oh fuck," moaned James, as the tight heat of Ryan's body enveloped him. He held as still as he could, letting Ryan set the pace, eyes locked to the other man's. Very gradually, Ryan eased down until he was completely impaled on James' cock. He gasped for breath, letting his body adjust. He braced his hand behind him on James' thigh, still staring into his eyes. "See? It's not so difficult," he panted. James could only look up at Ryan. "You're so beautiful," he moaned. "I'm inside you," he said wonderingly. The way James said it, so innocent, almost awestruck, did something to Ryan. He moaned and started to move on him, pulling up and thrusting down onto him again, driving James' cock deep inside his body. "Does it feel good?" he gasped, biting his lip. "So good," James answered in a strangled voice. He put his hands on Ryan's hips, just to feel him. "Better than anything." He thrust up a little, experimentally. Ryan whimpered loudly. It was hotter than anything he'd ever experienced. James' reactions, both hesitant and lustful, made him shiver. He could hear his own heart thudding in his ears. He started to move a little faster, encouraging James to thrust, grinding down onto him. "Oh, God," he panted. Finally, James' need overcame his hesitance, and he reached up to wrap his arms around Ryan, flipping them over 207
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without breaking their physical connection. Now he was on top, between Ryan's legs, free to thrust. He looked down at Ryan, panting, and he drove in once. "This okay?" he managed to moan. Ryan whimpered again. "Fuck yesss..." he hissed. He pulled his legs up to wrap around James' waist. "Feels so good." His fingers gripped James' shoulders tightly. "More," he moaned. Soon James found his rhythm. He stroked more smoothly, more confidently, driving deeper with each thrust. "Ryan," he gasped. "Tell me how it feels..." Ryan's fingers slid into James' hair and gripped it tightly. "Ohh, f-feels like, uhhnnn, like you're c-claiming me. Feels so fucking perfect, James. Oh, God..." The slight feeling of overtightness was gone and he clamped his body down around James' cock. James groaned at the new tightness. "I am claiming you, baby, now you're mine completely." He thrust harder, his possessive dominance coming out again. "Take my cock, Ryan, take it..." Ryan was holding on for all he was worth, but feeling James let go was what put him over. "Oh, God!" he cried out. And then he screamed James' name as he came hard enough that his field of vision grayed out for a second. James seemed stunned that Ryan had come so quickly, and it robbed him of all control. He thrust a few more times and then he was coming, moaning in ecstasy. Ryan smiled at James, lips parted, breath still coming fast. He relaxed his grip and smoothed his hands over James' 208
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shoulders. "You're beautiful when you come," he whispered dreamily. James pulled out carefully, removing the condom and discarding it. Then he collapsed next to Ryan, snuggling as close as possible. "You're beautiful all the time," he breathed, gazing at Ryan. Ryan curled towards him. He loved being cuddled up to someone after sex, and he was glad James seemed to like it, too. "My boyfriend," he said softly. "My lover," James replied, wrapping his arms around Ryan tightly. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He pulled the covers up over them and kissed Ryan's forehead. Ryan grinned. "I took your mansex virginity," he said quietly, nuzzling under his jaw. James laughed softly. "You did. I'll never be the same." He fitted their bodies together more tightly. "Did I do okay?" he asked. "You did amazing. I've never felt anything like that," he said, and he meant it. Maybe it was just how close he felt to James. Over a few days it seemed like they'd already been through so much together. James smiled. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better? I think we'll need to practice a lot." "Well, I'm all for practice. Not that you need it, but it's fun." He rested his hand on James' chest. He pressed his lips to James' cheek. James looked down so he could see Ryan's face. "If there's something you want me to do, or not do, you'll tell me, 209
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right?" he asked. His gaze was serious. "I want to make you happy." "Yes. And if you want to do anything, you won't be afraid to ask, right?" He tipped his head back and kissed James on the lips. "Right," James breathed, pulling back from the sweet kiss. "I, um. I wasn't too rough, was I? You sort of bring it out in me..." "Mmm, no, not too rough," he whispered, his voice hoarse from the memory of it. "You could be rougher and it would be okay." "How rough?" he breathed. "I've always wanted to be rough..." "As rough as you like," he whispered against James' lips. He licked at his lips. "What do you have in mind?" he purred. James moaned then, and incredibly, his cock began to twitch to life again. "Things like ... tying you up, or spanking you, or..." He was already breathing harder. "Pretending to force you..." Ryan's breath hitched. "Y-yes," he whispered. "We could do anything you like." He was starting to feel the beginnings of arousal, too. "Anything?" James said softly. He rolled on top of Ryan, taking his hands and pinning them above his head. He pressed, not quite painfully, but firmly. "You'll do anything I tell you?" Ryan whimpered at the feeling of being restrained. "Anything," he breathed. James kept getting sexier and sexier. 210
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"Oh, God," moaned James, and he crushed his mouth to Ryan's, roughly. Ryan opened to him instantly, letting James take the lead completely. He was absolutely on fire for his beautiful boyfriend. James rocked hard against him, not being as careful as he had been, and he tightened his grip on Ryan's wrists. He pulled back from the kiss, and he could see his boyfriend's face. Ryan gazed at him, a little dazed. "God, James. You're so sexy. I want to do everything with you," he panted. "Please. Whatever you want." He tugged at his wrists a little. "I like the way you say please," James purred. He moved, still holding Ryan's wrists, until he was straddling his chest. His very hard cock was right in Ryan's face, and he used one hand to direct it to the other man's mouth. "Look what you do to me, baby. Suck me." Ryan parted his lips and sucked James' cock into his mouth. He was so close he really didn't have a choice, and James was holding him down securely. It was the sexiest thing he could ever imagine. He moaned against the hard flesh, staring up at him. James moaned as he watched his cock disappear into Ryan's hot mouth. "You look so good with a cock in your mouth," he purred. "Only my cock." He thrust a little, not enough to gag him, just to make him feel used. Ryan whimpered, sucking him in earnest. He loved being spoken to like that, although he knew that James would be 211
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sweet and loving, later. It was the perfect combination of unbearably hot and wonderful. Even though James had just climaxed, he was close already. He pulled out of Ryan's mouth. He moved off of him after a moment, and snapped, "Get on your hands and knees, head down, ass up. I want to look at you." Ryan gasped for breath and sat up a little unsteadily. He turned over and got on his hands and knees. He leaned down, putting his ass in the air as James had instructed. He spread his knees wide, revealing everything to James. "Perfect," James breathed, just gazing at Ryan. He got up off the bed so he could walk around and look at his lover. "You look so good, baby. You like me looking at you this way, don't you? Like to have your legs spread like a little slut, so anyone who walked in could see everything?" "Yes," he panted. "I love you looking at me, James. I belong to you." He pressed his cheek into the pillow. "Do you like looking at me?" he panted hard. "I love it," James answered, walking around the bed. "I like to look at what's mine. My own personal whore. Is that what you are, baby?" He reached out to run his hand down Ryan's sleek back. "Yes. I'm whatever you want me to be, James." He was so aroused he was aching. He couldn't help completely submitting to James. He was too appealing like this. James was nearly panting now. He went to the drawer where he had seen Ryan pull out a condom, and he took one out. He ripped the pack open and slid it on himself. "Do you 212
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want me to fuck you like this?" he asked as he did so. "While you're all helpless and open to me?" Ryan whimpered. "Yes. God yes, James. Want you so much. Take me. Hard and fast. Don't hold back." James slicked the condom and climbed onto the bed behind Ryan. "Say please. Beg for my cock," he ordered, spreading Ryan open. That brought another whimper. "Please. Oh, godpleasefuckme," he moaned, arching his back to open to him even more. "Need you inside me, James." There was no way James could hold back another second. He positioned himself and slammed in as hard as he dared. Ryan sobbed into the pillow, holding on for dear life. He'd never been taken like this. He felt helpless. All he could do was take it, and it felt so fucking perfect. James chanted Ryan's name as he thrust into him. Ryan took everything, asking for more, and James lost himself in the pounding rhythm. It was pure unbridled pleasure. Ryan's body trembled. He was already so close, even after just coming a little while ago. It was carnal and primitive and the sexiest thing he'd ever experienced. He was grunting, lost in a world of sensation as James pounded into him over and over. James reached down to stroke Ryan's cock as he pounded into him. He wrapped his fingers around the other man's length, stroking, panting with the effort of fucking Ryan hard. Being touched was what put Ryan over the edge. It was too much and he lifted his head, crying out James' name as he 213
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spilled over his fist. A great shudder ran through him and his body tensed up, tightening impossibly around him. When Ryan tightened around him and cried out, James couldn't help but follow him into climax. It seemed to last forever, and after a moment he pulled himself up and stroked his back. "Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely. "Yes," Ryan answered. His arms were shaking with the effort to hold him up. "Need to lie down," he whispered. He just wanted to sink into the mattress. He helped Ryan to lie down, and lay down next to him, cuddled up behind him. "That was..." he trailed off as words failed him. "I love you," he finally whispered, kissing the back of Ryan's neck. Ryan felt completely spent, limp, and boneless. He relaxed back against James' solid, warm body. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh of pure contentment. "I love you, too," he whispered. He'd never felt so close to anyone before in his life. He knew he would never feel this way about anyone else. If there was such a thing as a soulmate, James was his. They needed a shower, but it could wait until morning. They both drifted off into a well-sated sleep. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Chapter Ten Ryan was downright unconscious throughout the night. Nothing haunted his dreams with James' strong arms wrapped around him. He didn't even move, just stayed cuddled back against his boyfriend throughout the night. When morning came, he stirred slowly, stretching and rubbing his eyes. His body was a little sore, but deliciously so. Every little ache reminded him of the night before, and he found himself smiling. He glanced over his shoulder to see if James was awake yet, and he saw a pair of warm, light brown eyes staring back at him. "Morning," he whispered. James smiled back. "Hi," he said a little hoarsely. "Did you sleep well?" He hugged Ryan more tightly against him. Ryan grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Mmm, don't remember," he purred, wriggling back against him. "Do you have to work tonight?" he asked, hoping the answer was going to be no. "Nope," smiled James. "I only work four nights a week." He ran his fingers through Ryan's long hair. "Trying to get rid of me already?" he joked. Ryan slowly turned to face James. "Oh, yeah. Get the fuck out," he said, laughing softly. He slid his arm around James' waist, fingers stroking lightly up his back. "Do you want to go get more of your stuff today?" "Sure," he replied, breath hitching as their bodies rubbed together. "And I suppose I should let my landlord know." 215
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"Mmm," he said, content to remain still as well. "Oh. I told the gardener guy that I'd look the place over and suggest anything I wanted to change. Do you know anything about gardens?" He tipped his head back to gaze into James' eyes. "Not really," James admitted. "But I'd love to wander around the gardens with you and offer completely unhelpful advice." He nuzzled Ryan's neck. "Oh, and kiss you." He tipped his head back further to give James better access to his neck. "As long as this deal includes coffee, I'm game," he said softly. He wanted to get up, but until James stopped doing that, he was incapable of it. James scooted down so he could kiss Ryan's neck more easily. He said between kisses, "Coffee, definitely. I think that's why you love me. I can make coffee." He bit gently at Ryan's skin, morning stubble scratching. Ryan giggled a little. "That and the sex," he said, shivering a little. "We'll never get out of bed if you keep doing that." "Is that a bad thing?" James murmured against Ryan's warm skin. "I just can't get enough of you, baby," he breathed, hand trailing down Ryan's back. He pulled back then, and teased, "But if you want me to stop..." "Just until I've showered, brushed my teeth, dressed and been caffeinated, okay?" He kissed James' cheek and rolled away, smiling at him as he padded off to the bathroom. James brushed his teeth while Ryan showered, and refrained from molesting him though Ryan caught him admiring him through the glass. He went down to start the coffee while Ryan finished up. 216
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By the time Ryan made it downstairs, he could smell the aromatic scent of the coffee wafting across the dining room. He slipped into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around James from behind. "You're way too good to me," he said, putting his chin on James' shoulder. James' eyes closed for a moment and he shivered a little at Ryan's touch. He leaned into him for a moment before pulling away so he could pour the coffee. "Not possible to be too good to you," he said, smiling, as he handed a mug to his boyfriend. Ryan stepped back and accepted the mug, taking a sip. "Mmm, perfect as always." He pushed a lock of still damp hair back over his shoulder. "Ready to go exploring in the gardens?" he asked brightly, feeling better than he had in a very long time. "Absolutely," James said, sipping at his own coffee. "What exactly are we looking for here? Should I take notes?" They wandered toward the door to the back gardens, grabbing their jackets on the way. "Uhh, I don't know. I guess not." He shrugged on his jacket and opened the door, stepping out onto a stone terrace. "Hey, this is nice." There was a partially walled garden with the sprawling lawns beyond, and finally the home wood in the distance. The garden was the width of the house, and had some shade trees, winding stone pathways, and orderly plots of flowering plants. James took a deep breath. "It's great," he smiled, slipping his hand into Ryan's. "You should put in a hot tub." He 217
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grinned at his boyfriend, and looked back out to the distance. "You need a maze. Don't all castles have to have mazes?" It felt nice to be holding hands, sweet. "Do they? That might be asking a bit much, but the hot tub sounds like a rad idea." He tugged James down one of the pathways, spotting a small bench under one of the trees. The sun was warm for once, though the breeze was cool. James followed Ryan to the sun-warmed bench. They sat down, and James smiled at Ryan. "Nice place you have here, my lord," he said. Ryan giggled. "Gee thanks, my lowly subject." He stuck his tongue out. He looked out across the garden. "These British people are all about the gardens, aren't they?' "They are. But most of the time it's too cold to enjoy them. I don't get it." He wrapped his arm around Ryan, pulling him close. Ryan leaned against him. "It's nice today, though. I think this is the nicest day since I've been here." James smiled. "I don't think it could get nicer." Ryan beamed at him. He kissed James' cheek. "So do you have any changes you'd like to suggest besides a hot tub and a maze?" "Hmm," James pretended to think about it. "My boyfriend, naked on my lap?" He grinned. "Or just on my lap. Don't want him to get a cold." Ryan grinned and moved so he was sitting on James' lap. He slid his arms around James' neck. "Is that better?" "Much," answered James, hands settling on Ryan's slim hips. "God, I love you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss him. 218
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Ryan kissed back, wriggling on his lap a little. He loved the way James spoke of him so possessively. He combed his fingers through James' hair. James moaned softly into Ryan's mouth, gathering a handful of his hair as they kissed. Just then, there was a loud crack, as if someone had stepped on a branch nearby. James' eyes flew open and he pulled back from the kiss. "Is Nigel here?" he asked softly. "I don't think so. He said he wasn't coming over until later," he said softly. "Why, did you hear something?" he asked, looking around. "Yeah," he whispered. "I think we're being watched. Move off my lap, I'm gonna get up quickly." He waited for Ryan to move, and he got up heading quickly for a gap in the hedge. He saw a flash of blonde hair and tweed coat. "Fuck," he muttered. Then he continued more loudly, "Miss Murray. How nice of you to drop in unannounced." Slowly, the reporter edged around the bushes. She glared at James and addressed Ryan. "Forgive me, my lord, but I rang the bell and no one answered, so..." Her gaze went between the two men and it was more than obvious she'd seen everything. "So you decided to sneak in the back?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. Ryan stood as well, and folded his arms over his chest. He still wasn't exactly sure what she wanted with him. Other than the fact that he'd inherited a title and a castle, which she already knew, his life wasn't that interesting. "What can I do for you?" he asked, although there wasn't a lot of hospitality in his tone. 219
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She smiled, but it was more of a smirk. "I was hoping you'd be willing to answer a few more questions, now that you've gotten settled in," she began, moving a step closer. "I wondered how you liked the village, and all that." She paused a beat, eyes flicking to James. "But I can see you seem to like it quite a bit." She let the statement hang, threateningly. James' eyes narrowed, watching the woman. Ryan frowned. He looked at James for a moment. "Wasn't there some sort of thing about British people being polite? Or is that just PR spin?" he asked. He turned back to her. "Yes. I do like the village. Or most of it, at least. So why don't you just come out and ask what you really want to ask?" "Well, really," she began, "I don't have to ask anything, do I? It's rather obvious that there isn't going to be a Countess of Elgin soon, is there?" She turned to James. "Or is that what he calls you?" James blushed but stayed silent. Picking on James was going too far in Ryan's opinion. "What the hell is your problem? Are you homophobic or something? I gave you an interview, I answered whatever you asked me. As far as I'm concerned, we're done. Let's go inside, James. It's not as nice out here as I thought." He turned and stalked off towards the house. James hurried to walk by Ryan's side, but to his annoyance the reporter followed. "My lord! The people have a right to know. You're a public figure now. And this is just the sort of thing the public is dying to know." There was a note of glee in her voice. 220
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Ryan stopped inside the drawing room and gaped at her. She had followed them right into the house. He was about to say something when all of a sudden the door slammed shut behind her. He looked at James and then looked suspiciously around the room. "Uh oh," he said quietly. "Oh dear, she's in quite a lot of trouble now." It was Percy's voice and he was standing to the side of the door, leaning his shoulder negligently on the doorframe. He examined his nails. "I believe the only thing Maxim hates more than Earls of Elgin preferring the company of men is commoners gossiping about that fact." The reporter's purse was tugged off her shoulder and the contents of it tumbled out and started flying around the room. Portia gasped and looked around wildly. "Who did that?" She looked accusingly at Ryan and James, but they were at least six feet away. She knelt to pick up her bag and tried to collect her things but they darted out of her grasp. "If this is some sort of joke, some sort of trick to keep me quiet..." James snickered and moved closer to Ryan. He glanced up. "I think it's out of our hands now..." "I think you're right," Ryan said softly. He was a little worried. Maybe Maxim wouldn't hurt him because he was the last of the line, but he could still hurt James or Portia. He looked at the reporter still scrambling for a tube of lipstick. "It's definitely not a joke," he said gravely. Portia started to back away from them, toward the door. "I don't know how you did that," she stammered, "But you won't get away with trying to silence me. I'll tell everyone what the two of you are." She reached for the doorknob and tried to 221
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turn it, but it wouldn't open. "Let me out of here this instant!" she demanded, sounding more frightened than angry. "This isn't good," James whispered to Ryan. "Look, we're not doing anything. It's the ghosts. I guess they don't like you threatening an Earl," Ryan explained. He could feel a buildup of energy, and suddenly there was a whirlwind in the room. Hair and clothing blew around, but yet the papers on the desk remained unmoved. Ryan saw Portia recoil from the door as if burned, and take a step into the room. Then suddenly she was lifted into the air, spinning around and around like some crazy carnival ride. He could hear Percy cackling out loud. "Oh, good one, Maxim!" he crowed. The reporter screamed, her shrill voice cutting through the sound of the artificial wind. James pulled Ryan back, away from the spinning woman. "What the fuck should we do?" James whispered. If the ghost hurt Portia, there would be a lot of trouble. No one would believe a ghost had done it. But before they could decide what to do, it was over. The phantom wind was gone as if it had never been, and Portia dropped unceremoniously to the floor, not hard enough to hurt her. The silence was broken by Percy's maniacal laughter. Portia scrambled to her feet, unhurt but hysterical. Her eyes were wide and she'd even stopped screaming. Ryan stared at her, blinking. He wanted ask Percy what was going on, but it would look crazy. Not that things could look any more crazy than they already did. "You guys need to 222
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stop, okay? You're gonna get me in trouble," he said hesitantly. Percy stepped forward, towards the reporter. It was obvious from her reaction that she could see him now because she stumbled backwards, almost falling off her feet. "Don't you appreciate the fourteenth Earl's hospitality, young lady? I call you a 'lady' as a formality, of course, although your actions have been exceedingly unladylike," he purred, advancing on her. "Wh-who are you?" she squeaked, her normally confident demeanor completely gone. She clutched her handbag in front of her like a shield. "The eighteenth Earl, at your service," he said sketching a brief bow. "This young man," he said, nodding towards Ryan, "...is as deserving of your respect as all of his ancestors, and if a British subject has forgotten that fact, it is a very, very dark day for Britain." "Percy, can you guys just let her go, now?" he asked a little weakly. Portia was trembling, looking as if she might collapse at any moment, and James took a chance. He tried the door again and this time it opened. "You're in luck," he said to the reporter. "They're letting you go. Go before they change their mind." He glanced at Percy, who just nodded. The reporter looked back and forth between the man and the ghost, and fled without another word. James looked at Ryan. "Well, she'll either call the cops, or never tell anyone at all. I mean, who would believe her?" 223
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Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. "That was very bad. Both of you," he said, looking over at the portrait of the fourteenth Earl. Percy pretended to hang his head. "Although, it really wasn't my idea at all. I had very little to do with it," he said, grinning. "We're supposed to believe that?" James said to Percy, smiling a little, but then his head snapped up as another ghost materialized in the room. There was no need to ask who he was; he was the spitting image of his portrait. "It was I," the fourteenth Earl said gravely, hovering at the back of the room as if reluctant. "That woman had no right to come into my home and threaten you." His voice was stern and hoarse, his face pinched. Ryan blinked and stared at him, unable to even speak. This was the ghost that had tossed him around and been threatening up until today. And he'd killed Percy. Percy stared, too. "Maxim?" he said, all trace of foolishness or bravado gone from his voice. "Who else would it be?" the ghost snapped, expression stern. James said to Ryan, "I thought he never..." Ryan stepped closer to James. "I don't know." He couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Even Percy looked a little pale, if that was possible. Percy frowned a little and folded his arms over his chest, although the gesture didn't seem particularly confident. "So you scared away the reporter. Good job. What are you going to do next?" he asked a little warily. 224
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The stern ghost was silent for a moment, as if considering. He floated closer to Percy, and everyone in the roof held their breath. James wrapped his arm around Ryan, though perhaps it wasn't the smartest thing to do given the circumstances. The ghost circled around Percy and floated halfway between the other ghost and the human couple. He regarded Ryan. "I thought you might be different," he said a little sadly. "I though you might be the one to break this family's curse. You are not from here. Yet you are just as decadent as he was," he said, indicating Percy. "If not more so." Ryan was frightened, but he wasn't cowed. "It's not a curse. There are a lot of homosexuals in the world. It's not decadent, just different. And some people think it's hereditary. Like hair color or a pointy chin." He set his lips, trying not to shiver at being confronted with the violent spirit. "Did you kill Percy on purpose?" he blurted. That made Percy gasp. He glared at Ryan for a moment, but then his interest turned to Maxim's answer. James tightened his grip on Ryan, but said nothing, waiting for the ghost's answer as well. "I did not kill him!" Maxim said with great affront. "Did he tell you that?" "No, I did," Percy's mother cut in, floating through a wall. Ryan's eyes widened. It was becoming a regular ghost tea party. "Mother, I wish you would stay out of this," Percy said softly. "I can handle this myself." 225
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"I'm supposed to stay out of it when the person who murdered my son finally deigns to make an appearance?" Sophia demanded, and turned to Maxim. "I did no such thing!" Maxim said, drifting back a little from the female ghost's ire. "It was an accident." The ghost looked at Percy for a moment, then looked down and continued in a softer voice, "I truly did not mean for the chandelier to fall." Percy raised an eyebrow. He stepped forward. "So it was an accident," he said flatly. "I was happy, you bastard. I had an heir, a fine boy. I had a wife who was happy. I had a lover. What possible good did you do, trying to change what couldn't be changed?" he asked, growing more irritated with each word. "You robbed me of a wonderful life, for what? Your family pride?" he spat. "You're the aberration in this family, not I!" Maxim actually looked shocked, and a little cowed. "You were flaunting your perversion in my home! Have you no pride in your heritage? No shame?" James' gaze sought Ryan's, and they watched in silence. Ryan slid his arm discreetly around James' back, leaning against him a little. This would either be very good or very, very bad. "It was my bloody home, too. The only 'perversion' was all the Earls before and since who denied their true selves and ruined the lives of innocent women in the process. My mother threw herself out of a window because her loving husband couldn't stand to touch her," he growled. "Is that how things should be? Cloaked in denial and shame? How many other countesses cried themselves to an early grave? This is not 226
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something any of us have chosen. It is what we are. Ryan is right. There is no curse. Only pig-headedness. That certainly runs in this family." Maxim was silent for a moment, and everyone in the room, dead and living alike, gaped at Percy after his eloquent outburst. Finally Maxim spoke up, quietly. "I was trying to protect our family, our heritage." He looked from Ryan, being held close by James, to the eternally grieving Sophia, to the wrongfully killed Percy. "I am sorry if in my fervor I made mistakes." He looked down. Percy stared at him. "Did you just apologize?" he asked softly. Maxim blinked. "Yes, I suppose I did." He faced Sophia. "I am sorry about your son. I truly did not mean for him to die. I wanted to frighten him." He turned to Percy. "I am sorry, I truly am. I suppose I am a bitter old man who could not stand to see anyone else happy when I never was." He looked away. "I thought I brought it all about," he said softly. "Because I too was depraved in my own heart. Though I never acted upon it." His ghostly back was to the rest of them. Ryan felt sorry for him. He'd obviously spent his entire life denying his own heart. Percy approached Maxim and put his hand on his shoulder. "It's all in the past now," he said quietly. "I forgive you." James' eyes widened and he looked at Ryan. Maxim looked up at Percy in surprise. "You do?" he whispered, voice tentative. 227
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Sophia drifted closer. "We were all doomed to sorrow." Percy patted Maxim's back. "Yes. Let's let it go now. These young people know what they're about. Ryan won't allow our line to die out. As long as there are Elgins we will have a legacy, Maxim." Ryan couldn't help but smile. Maybe things were going to be all right after all. James blinked a little. It looked as if the ghosts were starting to fade from sight. He finally spoke up. "Are you leaving? Forever?" he asked. Maxim and the other ghosts turned to face Ryan and James. Sophia spoke first. "I feel a lightening in my soul," she said, smiling a little at her son. "Percy?" Ryan said, a little alarmed. He'd come to enjoy the flamboyant ghost's company. But he knew it was right that they move on. "Don't let anyone tell you how to live your life, Ryan," Percy said, growing fainter by the moment. "Be happy, my boy," Maxim said, with one more look at the two men. "And forgive me..." And then, as quickly as they had appeared, they were all gone. James turned to Ryan. "Wow," he said. "I might actually miss them." "Me, too," Ryan said wistfully. He turned to face James and put his arms around him. "But I'm glad if they found peace," he whispered, smiling at him. "You think they're really gone for good?" James wondered, then he bent to kiss Ryan gently on the lips. 228
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A throat being cleared made James pull back in alarm. A ghostly throat, anyway. "I see you've forgotten about me already," the twenty-fifth Earl said with amusement. Ryan pulled back from James and blushed. "Sorry," he said quietly. "But you don't need to protect me anymore, right?" The ghostly figure considered. "No, I suppose I don't," he said with bemusement. "Pity. I'd come to enjoy floating about like this." "I didn't mean to sound like I was dismissing you. I appreciate your protection. Really. I'll do everything I can to be a good Earl," Ryan offered. "Well, your safety seems assured," the Earl agreed. "But there is still the matter of an heir." Ryan squirmed a little. "Honestly, I hadn't even thought about having kids at all. This is all so new to me. It's not like I was raised with this manifest destiny of procreating. You'll have to be a little patient about that," Ryan said. He wasn't ruling it out, but he wasn't going to lay down any definite plans without discussing it with James first, and it was way too soon for that. The Earl seemed to consider. "Perhaps you are right. But certainly you must consider the, shall we say, mechanics of it at some point. Perhaps I should just pop by and check on you once in a while." Ryan smiled. "You're welcome any time. Um, as long as you, you know. Knock first." He blushed a little and glanced at James. James hugged Ryan close to him, and smiled. 229
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"I shall bid you farewell, then," the ghost said, bowing slightly and fading from view. "Bye," James said with a wave. Ryan turned to James again. "Now we're really alone," he whispered. He could feel that the very atmosphere was lighter. He almost felt happier. "It feels different in here, doesn't it?" James shrugged. "It's quieter, at any rate," he said. He stepped closer to Ryan. "I think we should take advantage of the fact that we're alone," he said, standing only an inch or so from him. "Mm? And how do you propose taking advantage of that fact?" he asked, grinning a little. He didn't retreat, but he didn't touch him, either. James' smile widened. "There are dozens of rooms in this house that we haven't even kissed in," he said suggestively. Ryan got an evil idea. "Are you up for a game of hide and seek?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. James' eyes widened. "Hide and seek? What do you mean?" "I mean you give me to the count of ten and then you have to find me. But when you do, you won't regret it." He grinned broadly, giving James a wink. "Hmm," James said, smiling. "And when I find you, do I get a prize?" "Just me," he said with a little shrug. "Are you up for it?" James laughed. "Oh, I'm definitely up for it. You're the best prize of all." He paused, then began to count. "One..." 230
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"Hey! You have to close your eyes!" he laughed. He darted out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He darted up the stairs, tossing his t-shirt over the railing as he went. James laughed and counted, slowly and loudly, until he reached ten. Ryan ran down the hallway, kicking off shoes and opening doors. He randomly tossed pieces of clothing into rooms as red herrings. Then he ducked in a room, closing the door silently. James opened the door and called out, "Ready or not, here I come!" Ryan could hear him coming up the stairs. The door opened, finally. Ryan was lying on his stomach, facing the door, his head propped up on his elbows, his jeans dangling from the post of the four poster bed. He smiled broadly at him. James just stopped and looked at his boyfriend for a long moment. His cock pressed against the inside of his jeans insistently, and he advanced slowly. "I found you," he breathed, licking his lips. Ryan smiled seductively. "So you did." He rolled over onto his back, his arms wide and his head hanging off the side to look back at James, his cock very obviously hard. "I guess you win," he purred. James moaned softly as his cock pulsed. "I think we both win," he whispered, climbing up on the bed and straddling Ryan's body. He was still fully clothed, and he leaned forward, pinning Ryan down to the bed. Their cocks pressed together, 231
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separated by James' jeans, and he moaned at the pressure. "Want you," he breathed. Ryan moaned softly. "I want you, too. So much James. More than I've ever wanted anyone before," he panted. "Same here," James said, rubbing against the other man. "No one's ever made me ache like this." He lowered his head and kissed Ryan deeply. Ryan writhed beneath him, enjoying the kiss but anxious to have nothing separating them. He wanted to feel skin against skin, although he couldn't deny there was something about this that was inherently sexy, and made him feel vulnerable. The way Ryan reacted to him seemed to drive James mad. He ran one hand all over Ryan, savoring the feel of his smooth skin and hard flesh. He pulled back, panting, and whispered, "Mine. All mine." Ryan moaned at James' words. Nothing could possibly be sexier to him than that possessiveness. "Only yours," he whispered, staring up into James' eyes. "Thank you. For staying through all the weirdness. I don't know what I would have done without you." James smiled down at Ryan. "A few ghosts aren't enough to get rid of me. Now that you've shown me what real love is like." He bent to kiss him once again. Ryan sighed happily into the kiss. Real love. It made the huge, drafty, ostentatious castle feel like home to him. Ghosts, heirs, and servants be damned. They would work it all out somehow. 232
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James began to kiss lower, licking at Ryan's neck. Ryan tipped his head back, whimpering. "Mmm, that's nice," he purred hoarsely. Everything James did to him only made him more excited, more aroused. "You make me crazy for you," he whispered. James smiled against Ryan's warm skin and continued to kiss him. Ryan still hadn't caught on to James' intentions. He was lost in the feeling of being touched and kissed, of being naked and safe and in love. He ran his fingers through James' hair, looking down at him with overflowing adoration. It felt so perfect, and he moaned quietly, panting for breath. As he kissed Ryan, James started to run his hands up the inside of his thighs. He moved lower, spread his lover's legs gently, until he could settle between them. Now he was kissing Ryan's lower belly, eyes fixed on his pretty face. Ryan's eyes widened, and he gasped when he realized what was going on. He swallowed hard. "You d-don't have to d-do that, James," he whimpered. He couldn't even get his mind around the concept of being in James' mouth. "I know," James answered, smiling up at him. "But I want to," he said, hot breath blowing over Ryan's arousal. He looked down at the hard flesh, then back up again. "Unless you don't want me to..." He whimpered again. "N-no, you can if you really want to." He bit his lip. He was so aroused he felt dizzy. "But not for very long," he panted. He thought he could almost climax just from thinking about James sucking his cock. 233
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"I won't be very good at it," warned James. He licked at the tip quickly. "I'll try my best, though..." He reached out and wrapped his hand around the hard length and brought it to his mouth, sucking in just the tip, slowly. Ryan made a high-pitched, sobbing sound, and pulled his knees up higher and wider apart. "Oh, fuck," he hissed. Looking down and seeing James' lips wrapped around him was almost as erotic as the sensation. "OhmygodJames," he whimpered, digging his heels into the bed. It took all his strength not to thrust up. James would have smiled if he could have, but his mouth was otherwise occupied. He began to bob his head up and down, getting used to the feel of it, and tracing lightly at Ryan's inner thighs with his fingertips. "Stop!" he cried out. It was too much. He looked down, panting. "I wanna come with you," he gasped. James pulled back, letting Ryan's cock slide gently out of his mouth. He looked up at him, licking his lips. "You sure?" he said teasingly. "I was starting to enjoy that..." Ryan blushed. "I want you to fuck me," he said softly. "Please, James?" He could tell that James enjoyed the begging, and he was happy to do it. Slowly, James climbed up Ryan's body. He was still fully clothed while Ryan was completely naked. He pushed Ryan's legs apart with his own, and leaned over him. "You want my cock, baby?" he purred, rubbing against him. Ryan was panting hard, and nodded a little. "Yes," he whispered. "Please, James, want you so bad. Need your cock 234
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inside me." He licked his lips again, gazing up into James' eyes. "Give me your beautiful cock..." "I don't suppose you have what we need," James breathed. Ryan glanced up at his jeans, still hanging from one of the bedposts. He looked back at James. "Right front pocket," he whispered. "I started carrying stuff around. Just in case." He smiled a little. "I have this really spontaneous boyfriend now, you know?" Grinning, James reached for the jeans and retrieved the items, a small tube and a foil packet. "It's a good thing, too," he breathed. "Because I don't want to wait." He handed Ryan the condom packet while he unzipped his jeans. "Put it on me?" he asked breathlessly. Ryan sat up and tore open the condom packet. His fingers were shaking a little, but not with nervousness, with anticipation. He looked into James' eyes as he slid his hand into James' shorts and carefully pulled out his rock hard cock. He smoothly rolled the condom down his thick length, staring into his eyes the entire time. James' breath hitched when Ryan touched him. He held up the lube and whispered, "Do you want me to get you ready?" "Only if you want to," he said softly. "I can do it if you want." He knew it wasn't going to take very much prep, anyway. It had only been a little over twelve hours since they'd had sex, although it had been the first time in a long time. Well, the first two times. "I want to," James assured him. He squeezed some lube on his fingers and brushed them over Ryan's entrance. 235
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Ryan's breath was shaky and uneven as he watched James' face. "I love you," he whispered. He knew this was still all very new for James. James smiled and said, "I love you, too." He slid one finger inside his lover, as carefully as possible. Ryan was panting hard as James slowly stretched out his body. He was anxious to move on, but he didn't want to stop James. He wanted him to feel completely comfortable with everything. He whimpered a little as James inserted a second finger and inadvertently brushed against his prostate, biting his lip. "Feels so good," he whispered. Ryan's moans were so arousing that James was panting as well, without even being touched. "Am I doing all right?" he asked softly, eyes on Ryan's face as he moved his fingers in and out. "Yes," Ryan gasped. "But that's good enough now..." He looked up into James' eyes, his expression desperate and needy. "Please, need you, James. Take me." James withdrew his fingers and slicked the condom, eyes locked to Ryan's the whole time. "I'm gonna be inside you, baby," he breathed. "You're mine..." He positioned himself and began to slide slowly in. Ryan's legs wrapped around James' hips and he slid his arms around his neck. He'd never felt as happy or complete. With each inch more that James filled him, he whimpered, awash in sensation. "Only yours, James. Forever," he breathed. "Forever," James agreed, his voice strained with the effort of slowly entering Ryan. He claimed his lover, pausing when 236
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he was fully sheathed inside him. "Feel that, baby?" he moaned. "I'm all the way inside you..." Ryan could only stare up at his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend. His lover. His partner. He smiled up at him, his eyes shining with love. "My body and my heart belong to you," he whispered. "And mine belongs to you," James moaned, and started to move. He pulled out slowly, then thrust in a little faster, gasping at the friction of Ryan's tight body. Ryan moaned, giving himself over to the pleasure completely. He felt so comfortable with James, so in love with him, that he held nothing back. Nothing intruded on the pure sensation of being taken by him. "Oh, God," he gasped. "Yes, baby, harder, love you..." James thrust deeper, harder, panting at the increasing pleasure. "My Ryan," he gasped, bending to kiss him as they moved together, Ryan's arousal trapped between them. Ryan kissed back desperately, lacing his fingers into James' hair. He delved deep into James' mouth as James plunged deep into his body. All the build-up had brought him so close already, but he fought to hang on. He wanted it to be perfect for James. He wanted it to last forever. James pulled back from the kiss when he was panting so hard he could no longer breathe properly. "Oh, Ryan," he gasped, driving in and out faster. "So close, baby..." Ryan couldn't hold back any longer. He shuddered violently and cried out James' name as he pulsed between them. James let himself come then, moaning and panting as he 237
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came deep inside his lover. He stayed inside Ryan as long as he could, raining kisses on him. Slowly, Ryan's legs slid down to the bed again, his muscles going slack. "I love Scotland. I love this castle. I love that it brought me to you," he murmured with a sleepy smile. "I even love the ghosts that locked us in a closet together." His smile broadened just slightly. James collapsed on the bed next to Ryan. "I love everything right now," he sighed, still breathing hard. He looked at his boyfriend. "Especially you." He snuggled close. Ryan curled around him. "Mmmnap, now?" he suggested groggily. He nuzzled under James' jaw with a satisfied smile. James looked around. "Where are we, anyway? This place has way too many rooms." That made Ryan giggle. "It must be a bedroom, cause we're in a bed. Do we need to make a chart, and check each one off as we, um, break it in?" He tipped his head back a little to grin up at James. "Mmm. That might be fun. Cause, you know, we have a lot of rooms to get through. I'm so glad Nigel didn't pick you up that night," he whispered. "Me, too. We'll have to throw him a party, in appreciation of his fallibility. But I still would have found you somehow," he whispered. "As soon as I laid eyes on you I was lost." James smiled shyly. "I don't see why. You're so beautiful. You could have anyone." "As long as I can have you, that's all that's important," he whispered. He leaned close and kissed him gently and lingeringly. 238
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James whimpered. Life was perfect at last. They'd found what most people could only dream of. True love. [Back to Table of Contents]
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Epilogue Three years later Ryan adjusted the paper surgical robe over his clothes for the millionth time. "When do we get to see him?" he said, sounding a little whiny and impatient. A short, slightly chubby woman with close-cropped hair and pink cheeks rubbed his back. "The doctor said it wouldn't be long now," she said soothingly. "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be great." She glanced over to the other young man who was contemplating the contents of the vending machine. "Isn't that right, James?" she prompted. James gave up on the half-empty machine—everything that looked good was out. "Gwen's right, Ryan. You don't want them to rush around and drop something, do you?" He smirked at the woman as he sat on the other side of Ryan, leaning against him. "Relax..." Ryan put his head on James' shoulder. "Aren't they supposed to let the father in there?" he said, pouting a little. "I thought that was how they did it these days. Although ... I don't know that I really wanna see the whole thing." He glanced at Gwendolyn. "No offense." She laughed. "None taken. I don't want to see your whole thing, either." James giggled. "I imagine Cecily isn't too happy with 'things' right now, either. The nurse told me the labor went so fast that they didn't even have time to give her anything, drugs wise. Which is better, anyway, she wanted to try to go 240
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without." He stroked his lover's hair. "They'll let us in as soon as they're ready, baby," he soothed, trading glances with the other woman over Ryan's head. Finally, the doctor appeared in the hallway. "Mr. Legato? You can see your wife and son now," he said. "Only three visitors in the room at a time," he added, taking in the fact that there were only three of them. Ryan smiled and stood up. "Let's go. Gotta say hello to the wife," he grinned. It was absurd to him that Cecily was his wife, but it satisfied the requirements of his title. Gwendolyn and Cecily had their own suite of rooms at one end of the castle, and James and Ryan had theirs. They'd met one day in the local department store, in the men's section. They'd recognized kindred spirits immediately. Gwen and Cecily didn't have many friends in the small town, and soon all four of them were inseparable. Percy's words had come back to Ryan and he'd suggested his plan. The doctor led them to the delivery suite and Cecily was sitting up in the bed, the newborn baby cradled in her arms. Gwendolyn rushed to her side instantly and brushed a wispy lock of hair off her forehead. "Are you all right, C?" she asked softly. The dark-haired woman in the bed looked exhausted but happy. She looked down at the baby and back up at the three anxious faces. "We're both fine," she said, beaming at them. "I feel like a demon tried to crawl out of me, but other than that..." She looked up at Ryan. "Can you believe it? This is your son." 241
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Ryan beamed and put his arm around James' back. "It's our son. All of ours," he said, glancing at Gwen, too. "Not to mention the next Earl of Elgin." He released James and scooted a little closer, perching his hip on the bed. "So, name suggestions? I think we need a majority rules rule, yes?" "How about Cedric?" Gwendolyn suggested. Ryan made a face. "How about no?" James laughed, standing behind Ryan and leaning against him slightly. "He looks like you," he said to Ryan. "Without the tattoos." Cecily smirked. "I bet Nigel has some proper suggestions." The solicitor still seemed appalled by their 'arrangements', as he called them, after all this time. But everything was perfectly legal, and now that there was an heir to the title, he couldn't really argue. An artificially inseminated heir was still an heir. Ryan held out his arms and Cecily relinquished the bundle to him. He cradled the baby carefully, and stroked his cheek with a finger. Two bleary little dark eyes looked up at him. "He does look kinda like me, doesn't he?" He looked back at James with an adoring smile. "I'd say we should call him James, but that would get confusing." James looked down at the tiny baby. "Poor guy, he doesn't want to be named that." He touched the baby's tiny fist gently. "He needs something nobler." Cecily rolled her eyes. "Men are no good at naming things," she said, reaching out to hold Gwendolyn's hand. "There's no rush. We can decide." 242
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Ryan pouted a little. "We're not that kind of 'men'." He turned his attention back to the baby. "You're gonna be one very spoiled little boy, you know that? Right off the bat you'll have twice as many parents as most people have. And my God, just wait until my grandmother gets here. You have no idea the food. I hope you like Italian." He grinned at the baby, leaning back against James a little more. Gwendolyn leaned over and kissed Cecily on the forehead. "Good work, kid," she said softly. James leaned down to whisper, "I don't think he's quite ready for spaghetti." He kissed Ryan on the cheek, gently. "I love you. Both." Ryan handed the baby back to Cecily. "I think we'll let the two of you hang out for a while alone, and come back later, okay? I'll call before we come back to see if you want us to bring back food." He stood again. He wanted to be alone with James, and he also wanted to reassure the girls that they were all going to take turns hogging the baby. Cecily smirked. "You'd think after three years you two could go for half an hour without snogging," she teased gently, handing the baby to Gwendolyn to hold. James grinned but stayed silent, wrapping an arm around Ryan's waist. Ryan shrugged a little. "We could, but why should we?" He grinned. "See you in a couple of hours, okay?" He leaned over and kissed Cecily on the forehead. "Later, Mrs. Legato." "Bye, your Earlness. Don't get arrested now." Cecily waved a little as the two men left. 243
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James waved back and followed Ryan out. "How does it feel?" he asked softly as they stripped off the hospital gowns. Ryan smiled at him and slid his hand into his pocket. "It feels like you should drive," he said, handing him the keys. As they walked towards the parking lot, he added to his answer. "It feels like we don't have to worry and we can live our lives the way we want now. How does it feel to you?" he asked. "I feel like I should always drive," snickered James. Ryan's driving skills had not improved by driving on the other side of the road for three years. He opened the door for Ryan and then got in himself. "It feels like I love you more than ever. And I'm the luckiest man in the world." He smiled over at Ryan. Ryan smiled warmly at him. "Nuh uh. I am," he laughed. "I love you, too, James. And I always will." [Back to Table of Contents]
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About the Author Inspired by the important things in life: beauty, love, and passion, Jade has spent several years writing erotic fiction. The forbidden nature of homoeroticism has been the basis for many megabytes of fiction that has delighted a wide circle of online readers. Please feel free to visit Jade at www.JadeFalconer.com or on MySpace at www.myspace.com/jadefalconer.
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