Regency Relations Part 8 (of 8)

This is a story in eight parts, published in two parts per issue.

Go to Part 1
Go to Part 2
Go to Part 3
Go to Part 4
Go to Part 5
Go to Part 6
Go to Part 7

Part 8

Iphicles awoke the next morning to find Aresborough asleep next to him, the covers thrust off, and their legs tangled together. Iphicles took the opportunity to study the Duke for a while. They had got no more than half way through their dinner last night before it had been disregarded in favour of other appetites. For the sake of appearances, and to spare Mrs Thornton's blushes, the Duke had been allocated the best guest bedchamber. This just happened to be the one closest to the principal bedchamber which, of course, the Earl occupied. They had retired there and in the candlelight undressed one another, in less haste this time as they learned one another's bodies again.

Iphicles smiled as he moved closer against the Duke and felt the regular beat of his heart. Aresborough stirred suddenly and his eyes opened. He yawned, and then blinked for a moment in sleep-driven confusion before his lips curved as he returned Iphicles' steady regard.

"Are you still of a mind to return to London today?"

"It will be my last chance to speak to Harry before he returns to duty," Iphicles informed him. "So although my inclination is without a doubt to stay here," his hand began to trail across the Duke's chest, " I must go."

The Duke rolled on top of Iphicles, the suddenness of his action not giving the Earl an opportunity to resist. His mouth buried in his neck, tongue and lips busy exploring, causing Iphicles' cock to harden in instant response. Pulling up for a moment to look down at the Earl, the Duke eyed him consideringly.

"You know, Iphicles, I am minded to keep you here indefinitely." He returned his attention to the soft skin over the Earl's collarbone, moving downwards slowly. Iphicles moaned at the burn of unshaven skin rubbing against his nipple, then soft lips and a gentle tongue soothing the pain. "You see," the Duke's voice was growing indistinct as his mouth moved inexorably down Iphicles' body, "I think your brother has interrupted us enough times already."

Iphicles gasped, his hands knotting in the sheet beneath him as hot wetness greeted the head of his cock and he gave himself completely to the Duke.

It was mid-morning before they set out upon the road to London. It was not only their delayed emergence from the bedchamber which put back the start of their journey, but one other matter also. Iphicles had intended to do it yesterday afternoon, yet the Duke's sudden appearance had changed that. There was something he had to do before he could leave Royston again, something he did each time he visited.

He chose the roses carefully, and cut each one himself. It was part of the ritual. Then he went to the Temple of Apollo, where Bella had loved to sit and gaze out on the gardens, particularly as the time for her confinement had grown closer. On entering the temple he paused before approaching the stone bench where she had always sat, trying to understand what was different. He realised suddenly; in the past, he had always known she was there, that if he had just managed to turn his head an instant sooner, he would have seen her. Now there was nothing here save a beautifully-proportioned empty building. He laid her favourite flowers on the seat and knelt beside it for a moment. These were the last flowers he would cut for her.

He paused at the entrance to the temple and looked back one last time. Splashes of crimson petals on the white stone seat were the only living things the place contained, and he shivered at the realisation. Turning away from the cold empty stone, Iphicles set his face to the sun and strode down the hillside towards his home.

Even Brownlow's equilibrium was shaken by the Earl's sudden return to Half Moon Street, although he recovered valiantly to inform Iphicles that the Dowager was gone out, as were Captains Fairfax and Burnage.

It was not long before this situation was remedied. Iphicles and the Duke were ensconced comfortably in the drawing room when the door opened to reveal Harry. No sooner was Iphicles in his sights than he burst out, "What the devil brings you back here, Iph?"

Iphicles looked up, but did not rise from his seat. " Come in, Harry," he invited cordially. "I believe you are already acquainted with Aresborough."

Harry's forward momentum ceased suddenly, and his head swivelled, his eyes fixing with disbelieving outrage on Aresborough. "Devil take it," he swore furiously. "What in hell's name is he doing here?"

"Aresborough is my guest, Harry, as are you and Iorweth," the Earl informed him calmly.

"Iph," Harry turned wrathful eyes on him, apparently struggling for words. "We need to talk - now," he ground out finally.

"We do indeed," Iphicles agreed. "I am interested to hear what excuse you intend to offer for your behaviour. Please do continue."

"Alone." The Captain's tone was dangerous.

Iphicles held his brother's eyes. "There is nothing you can have to say that cannot be said in front of Aresborough."

"God, he really has blinded you, hasn't he?" Harry snarled. "Very well, Iph, I will not scruple to tell you that you are being stupid beyond imagining. He -" and here he jerked his head in Aresborough's direction, apparently unwilling to pollute his eyes by even looking at the man again, "He is nothing but a libertine, delighting only in depravity and vice." His colour was high as he flung the words at the Earl. "God above, Iph, he has no other end in mind than to ruin you, and you will not see it! He has soiled your reputation enough already; continue this alliance and no one will receive you!"

The Earl spared a swift glance for Aresborough. He sat apparently relaxed, a mocking smile on his lips as he regarded the Captain, but there was dark rage in his eyes.

"I do not intend to repeat myself, Harry, so please concentrate." Iphicles' voice was cold. "I will not have you insult my guest under my roof. If you cannot be civil, you may find accommodation elsewhere. What I do is my business and mine alone, as long as it does not affect Mama."

"And what about Mama?" Harry flung furiously. "You bring him under the same roof --"

"While you have not scrupled to fuck your lover under the same roof as her for the past God knows how many years?" Iphicles lashed. "You are nothing more than a selfish hypocrite, Harry, totally unprincipled in the means you employ to achieve your own ends. Your only objection to my action is that you will now be looked to for stud duty."

"Damn you, Iph, I refuse. You cannot make me!" The Captain glared mulishly at his brother.

"That is your business," the Earl returned disinterestedly. "I would not presume to comment on your decision."

"Damn you to hell, Iph." The Captain's eyes were bright and his colour dangerously high. Then he whirled round on Aresborough. "I suppose you are satisfied now, aren't you?"

"I cannot deny that I find your brother extremely satisfying," Aresborough agreed smoothly. "Which is more than I was able to say about your little friend."

The Captain took a crashing step forwards, but Iphicles was out of his chair, a hand warningly to his brother's chest. "I have already told you, Harry."

Harry's eyes burned on his brother's. "You are a damned stupid fool, Iph."

"I wish for the return of my property." Iphicles' voice was edged with fury. "And then, as far as I am concerned, you may go to the devil."

"Your property?" The Captain's face reflected his sudden confusion.

"I believe you have in your possession a letter addressed to me."

Harry's eyes flickered, and then he smiled in surly triumph. "I burned it."

The lack of shame in his brother, the lack of regret that his selfish action could well have cost Iphicles his happiness, was too much for the Earl. Without conscious intention, his fist connected with his brother's jaw in one clean blow. Taken by surprise, the Captain went down like a felled ox, his head connecting solidly with the leg of the sofa.

Iphicles was left staring in amazement and an instant of glorious satisfaction. Aresborough slowly unfolded himself from his chair and moved towards the Earl where he stood over his brother's unmoving figure.

"Had I known what a punishing right you possess, Iphicles, I might have treated you with a little more circumspection," he commented.

"I didn't mean to do it," Iphicles confessed, flexing his hand somewhat gingerly.

Aresborough was standing very close to him. "I am pleased you did, however, as otherwise I might just have had to run him through to prevent him annoying me any further." He pulled Iphicles to him, his teasing eyes steady on the Earl's as he continued, "And you know, Iphicles, it would not suit me to have to flee the country. Not now."

Iphicles' mouth opened to the Duke's searching tongue, before he pulled back a little way. "Iorweth?" he questioned.

The Duke's lips curved. "I believe he had suffered a surfeit of your heroic brother one night. Whatever his reasons, he attended a party of mine and threw himself - with great enthusiasm, if memory serves - into the spirit of the occasion." He glanced past Iphicles at Harry's unconscious figure. "I would never let your brother know this, Iphicles," he confessed, "But there were so many present and enjoying themselves that night that I cannot even be sure that I had him."

Iphicles tried to hold back his laughter. "So you mean to tell me that Harry hates you for something you may not have done?"

Aresborough's eyes gleamed. "Well, I'm not entirely convinced his friend was in a fit state to remember what had happened. I can only assume that he confessed what he thought to be the whole to Fairfax in a fit of remorse. I am certainly the devil incarnate as far as your brother is concerned."

A sudden groan interrupted them, and reluctantly Iphicles stepped back from the Duke. Harry was beginning to stir.

He caught Aresborough's eye, and in unspoken agreement, they left the room. Before they had got far along the landing, the Dowager's voice reached them, announcing her approach up the stairs.

"It is such a fortunate coincidence that we met you and Harry as we did, although it was such a shame that he had to rush away so swiftly. Still, I know that Annabel was flattered by your attentions, and perhaps you might be able to put a good word in for dear Harry tonight?"

She broke off with a startled cry when she looked up to see her eldest son standing at the head of the stairs. "Iphicles! What are you doing back so soon? Is everything all right?" And then she saw his companion and the worry disappeared, replaced by a charming dimpled smile. "I declare, what a pleasant surprise."

She made her way up the remaining stairs with surprising speed and offered her hand to the Duke. Aresborough gallantly kissed it. With a delighted chuckle, Alicia looked round for her companions who were just gaining the landing behind her. Sir John's eyes were moving swiftly between the Duke and Iphicles, while Iorweth's gaze was fixed on Aresborough's face in a manner which reminded Iphicles irresistibly of a rabbit watching the approach of a fox.

"Sir John, Iorweth, I am sure you know his grace of Aresborough," she said.

Before either of them could do more than bow stiffly, she continued. "But really, Iphicles, it is too bad of you not to give me warning. I trust you will be dining with us tonight?" she ascertained, bestowing a dazzling smile upon Aresborough.

"I shall be delighted," the Duke returned immediately.

"And you must join us now," Alicia continued. "I wish to hear what brings you here to us today."

She turned round, seeking Sir John. His eyes were on Iphicles and seeing this, the Dowager put her hand instead through the crook of Iorweth's arm and drew him towards the drawing room, inviting Aresborough to accompany them.

"You see, it is as I said," she confided to the dazed-looking Iorweth in a tone which she fondly believed not to be audible to anyone else as they moved along the landing, "He is such a charming man. I am sure he is maligned and is not wicked at all."

Sir John looked at the Earl where they remained at the head of the stairs. "Well?" he asked.

"Do you foresee a long engagement?" Iphicles enquired.

Sir John's eyes were shrewd. "We will marry just as soon as is possible," he offered.

"Harry!"

Starting forward at the Dowager's shriek of alarm, Sir John checked as Iphicles put a hand to his arm.

"It is not serious," the Earl assured him.

Sir John's lips suddenly twitched in a manner which betrayed his swift comprehension of the situation. He was serious again almost immediately. "Your mother will have the protection of my name," he said, lowering his voice still further. "But what of you, Royston? Do you know what you are doing here?"

Iphicles' eyes were sober on his. "I believe I do, Sir John. Whatever the outcome, you must be aware that I have no desire to go abroad in society any longer."

Sir John sighed. "I cannot admit myself surprised," he confessed. They began to move along the landing together.

Stepping back, Sir John allowed Iphicles to go ahead of him into the room. "I wish you happy, Royston." It was murmured, so low that Iphicles was not entirely sure he had heard it correctly. He looked startled at the man, but Sir John's eyes were fixed on the tableau which met them.

Alicia was kneeling down beside her younger son who was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, one hand nursing his jaw. Aresborough was sprawled comfortably in a chair as he watched, and Iorweth was perched uncertainly on the edge of another chair, his glance darting from Harry to Aresborough but not resting on either one for too long.

"How could you be so clumsy, Harry?" The Dowager was fondly scolding him. "Iphicles, get Brownlow to get something for your brother's face; he has fallen and hurt himself."

At her words, Harry looked up to see his brother standing regarding him, and his glare was suddenly murderous. Sir John's lips twitched again as he seated himself. Iphicles delivered the message to Brownlow, and then sat down in a chair near to Aresborough, enjoyably watching the Dowager fuss around Harry until the Captain was unable to take it any longer and firmly declaring himself healed, seated her on the sofa, dismissing the recently appeared Brownlow as he did so.

"But will you be well enough to go to the Trents' tonight, dear?" She was anxious. "I would hate you to spoil your chances with either of the girls by having an ugly mark on your face, although of course it would take much more than that for you not to make the right impression. I had hoped that you might engage your interest with Annabel before returning to Spain. There is no point of course in looking to Louisa. She is not such a handsome girl, although her mama agrees with me that Iphicles would do for her." Suddenly reminded, she turned upon Iphicles. "And if you do not make a push to fix your interest with her, you will find that she too has been married elsewhere while you have been dragging your feet."

Surmising that he was still unforgiven for allowing Sophia to escape, Iphicles smiled amiably at his mother. "Do not worry, Mama, I will not hold it against my brother should he wish to make a play for her." Harry's fulminating gaze filled the Earl with a pleasant glow of satisfaction.

"In fact, I hope he will," Iphicles continued blandly, "because you should know, Mama, that you must not expect to see me married again. If you wish for an heir, I suggest you look to Harry."

He watched with interest for a moment to see if Harry really would go off into an apoplectic fit, then got to his feet while his mother's mouth was still working soundlessly. Iorweth's blue eyes were tragic on Harry's face, and Sir John's attention was determinedly concentrated on the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf, his lips having not yet recovered from their recently-discovered tendency to twitch alarmingly.

The Duke and he made their farewells, and left the room.

They retired early that night, before the other members of his family had returned from their entertainment. Dinner had been one of the most interesting meals that Iphicles could remember ever having enjoyed around the family table. Alicia had continued in her enthusiasm for Iphicles' new friend, although she was decidedly cool towards her eldest son following his disappointing announcement. Sir John had been punctiliously polite, his attitude thawing slightly as the evening progressed and he realised that the Duke was capable of behaving with propriety when he so chose. Harry and Iorweth were almost completely silent and had, in fact, appeared desirous of making an early appearance at the Trents'.

"So, Iphicles," the Duke murmured while unfastening the Earl's cravat. "What have I done that you must needs have me put in the bedchamber furthest from your own?"

The Earl paused in his own attentions to Aresborough's clothing. "The other bedchambers are occupied," he reminded the Duke. "It means simply that you must not sleep in tomorrow morning." He continued pulling the Duke's shirt off, his mouth moving over the skin exposed as a result.

"I think there to be little danger of that with you to wake me," Aresborough pointed out. "Anyway, we should leave early if we are to make Royston at a godly hour. Sit down."

Iphicles obediently sat on the edge of his bed. The Duke knelt before him and began to remove his boots. Iphicles' teeth sunk hard into his lower lip as he watched Aresborough's dark head bent before him, and his cock threatened to burst. Hands wrapping into the Duke's hair, he pulled the man up for a kiss, pulling him onto the bed on top of him, tongue thrusting, rubbing his hard cock against the Duke's while his hands explored desperately. The Duke kissed him back, hard, then bit his lip, drawing blood. Iphicles cried out, and jerked upwards, his own teeth burying in warm flesh. A sound from the Duke, and Iphicles' hands were suddenly pinned against the bed as Aresborough stared down at him, breathing deeply.

"Don't be impatient, Iphicles," he commanded.

Iphicles strained upwards to rub himself against the Duke's hardness. Aresborough pulled back, his grip on Iphicles' wrists tightening. "I said no."

"God," Iphicles gasped in frustration. "Just fuck me, Aresborough."

"Oh, I will," the Duke promised. He released the Earl's hands and slid back down to finish removing his boots. This time Iphicles let him, but as soon as the Duke was back on the bed, Iphicles' hands were tearing frantically at his clothes, needing to see, to feel the Duke. Aresborough responded, but as Iphicles' eager fingers began to undo his breeches, he stopped the Earl again and pinned his hands above his head

"Not yet," he growled.

Iphicles bucked upwards beneath him, trying to dislodge him. Aresborough's eyes gleamed suddenly as he looked down at Iphicles. Bending his head, he kissed the Earl thoroughly, so thoroughly that Iphicles barely noticed that the Duke now held his wrists with one hand only and was feeling about on the bed with his other hand. By the time it had registered, it was too late; Aresborough had picked up the cravat which had been tossed anyhow onto the bed when it had been removed from its wearer's neck and wound the length of material firmly around the Earl's wrists, holding them together. He reached further and tied the ends around one of the bedposts before sliding back down the Earl's body and looking down at him.

"Let us see you try to hurry me now, Iphicles," he said.

Iphicles' initial uncertainty at this development was assuaged by the Duke's smile, and then he forgot everything except the torture of the Duke's touch. Aresborough's lips, tongue and teeth explored every single inch of Iphicles' naked upper body. And then his hand glanced over the swelling in his breeches. Iphicles tried frantically to angle himself to get the Duke to touch him there again, but all the man would do from where he was placed between Iphicles' open legs was lightly run his hands again and again up his inner thighs, promising, yet never touching. With a final desperate effort, the Earl managed to move at the right moment so that the Duke's hand brushed over his cock rather than his thigh. Aresborough instantly removed his hand, and Iphicles groaned in anguish.

Aresborough raised his head from his consideration of Iphicles' body to look at the Earl's face. "So that's what you want, is it? Why did you not just say so?"

Iphicles' response would have brought a warmth to the cheeks of even a hardened hackney driver. Certainly the Duke seemed to think so, for he leaned forward and stopped his mouth with his tongue. When he drew back, he asked the Earl. "Who has the bedchamber next door to this?"

"Harry." Iphicles' voice was strained.

"Nobody important then," the Duke concluded. "I was thinking I might have to gag you had it been your mother."

As he spoke, he had been undoing the side opening to Iphicles' breeches. Iphicles cried out as long fingers slid inside and touched his desperate cock, smoothing over the damp head, and then withdrew. "Please, Aresborough," he begged now, yanking yet again at the cravat which held him mercilessly, "Please."

Aresborough slowly finished undoing the Earl's breeches, and Iphicles raised his hips to allow him to pull them down. Warm breath against his balls, and then unspeakable delight as the Duke's mouth worked them. By the time the Duke moved off him to finish undressing himself, Iphicles was nearly sobbing with every breath he drew. He watched the Duke's body slowly revealed in the candlelight and moaned anew, unable to tear his eyes from the dark thrusting cock. Aresborough saw where he looked and knelt astride him, offering himself to Iphicles. Unable to guide it with his hands, with the Duke not doing so for him, the shiny head nudged clumsily against his lips where his head was raised desperately to receive it, before it slid into his mouth and he tasted the Duke. He was whimpering breathlessly as he sucked, close to coming himself just from the Duke's beautiful cock in his mouth. Aresborough suddenly realised, it seemed, and pulled out, leaving Iphicles staring imploringly up at him.

"All right, Iphicles." Aresborough's voice was soft, and then he was pushing the Earl up the bed slightly so that there was sufficient slack in the cravat to roll him onto his side. He pushed up against him and teased a little while longer, moving the tip of his cock around Iphicles' entrance, before he lifted Iphicles' leg and pushed slowly inside. Iphicles would have moaned, but for the fact he couldn't breathe. Slowly the Duke began to fuck him, moving almost lazily, or so it seemed to the Earl who gasped softly each time Aresborough slid home. One large hand curved around the Earl and began to stroke his nipples, rolling and pulling at them while teeth grazed his shoulder and the hard cock kept sliding in and out of him, again and again.

Iphicles lost all awareness of everything except the Duke's touch and the Duke's cock; he didn't even want to come any longer, just to stay like this forever. But then the Duke's hand moved down, and his thumb smoothed over the wet tip of Iphicles' cock, causing Iphicles to cry out. He felt the Duke's smile against his damp skin as he kissed Iphicles' shoulder, before the rhythm of the Duke's thrusts changed, gradually becoming faster as his hand moved on Iphicles' cock, until Iphicles was sobbing his need and Aresborough was groaning with each thrust. "Come for me, Iphicles," he gasped, thrusting hard. "Come for me."

With a sobbing groan, Iphicles did so, his seed soaking the sheet beneath him, and as soon as the Duke felt the dampness on his hand, his own seed filled Iphicles' ass.

They lay like that for a long time, before the Duke kissed the Earl's shoulder and pulled away. Iphicles turned onto his back and looked at the Duke.

"I take it you intend to do something about this?" he indicated the way his hands were still fastened above his head.

The Duke grinned suddenly. "Don't tempt me," he threatened, before moving to work on the knots. It took him some time to work the tightly-pulled material free, and Iphicles was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy, thinking that even Brownlow's equanimity would not survive being called to release his master in this situation, when finally Aresborough managed it. Iphicles brought his hands down, and began to rub at stretched muscles. Busy as he was with this, it took him a while to notice that Aresborough was unnaturally still on the bed beside him. He looked over at last, and saw the Duke staring unblinkingly up at the canopy above them.

"Aresborough?" Iphicles sat up in concern. "What's wrong?"

There was a pause before Aresborough spoke quietly. "Your brother may be a damned annoyance, but he was right about one thing, Iphicles."

"Harry? Right about what?"

The Duke's lips lifted briefly at the incredulity in Iphicles' voice, but he quickly sobered again.

"Your reputation. If you stay with me, you will no longer be welcomed by those who matter in society."

"I know." The Earl's quiet admission brought the Duke's head round to meet his gaze. "I have thought on it, believe me." How could he not have thought on the way those who professed to be his friends had been so quick to disown him? One corner of his mouth twisted as he met the painful query in the Duke's eyes. "I am here, am I not? I have made my choice, Aresborough."

The Duke still did not relax. "Are you aware what it will mean….?" he began.

Iphicles stopped his mouth with a brief kiss. "I am," he said.

As he settled back down beside the Duke, Aresborough drew him close. Iphicles lay with his eyes closed, listening to the Duke's quiet breathing and the steady beat of his heart.

"Iphicles." The soft breath stirred his hair.

"I know," he murmured, and the Duke's arms tightened around him.

Held in the warm security of Aresborough's embrace, Iphicles slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

***