Infernal Vices (Resurrectionist #3)

CHAPTER 9

DESERT

After dinner we retired to the parlour. Sebastian left us to visit the bathroom and I was alone again with Charles. He stood warming himself by the fire as he sucked on a cigar. I offered him a glass of Port.

“Thank you,” he said accepting the drink, as he slumped into the armchair and eyed me, humour writ large on his face. I raised a brow.

“Have you really not worked out the red book yet?” he smiled foxily.

“Hmmm…no, I have not. It’s quite the puzzle.”

Charles let out a light laugh. “It is isn’t it?” My guest grinned at me while I pouted with derision.

“Oh come Benedict, you’re a smart man, you can figure it out. And if you haven’t by the time we meet for Temple of the Muses, I promise, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” I harrumphed. “That would be very helpful.” Charles continued to gaze at me, an inebriated grin on his face. I took a gulp of Port to hide my discomfort, and listened, hoping that Sebastian would return in haste .

Finally, I said, “Charles, why the devil are you looking at me like that?”

“I know your secret,” he said with a teasing sing-song, his grin reminiscent of a mischievous schoolboy. This assertion alarmed me and in confusion I fixed Ashe’s gaze. He threw a leg over the arm of the chair and lounged; all propriety gone. The bulge at his crotch was now visibly on display.

He twiddled the end of his waxed moustache and said “Oh yes, old fellow, I know exactly what’s going on here. I understand your reluctance now.”

“Reluctance? Whatever do you mean?”

“To be intimate with me. He is rather a dish, opinionated and challenging too. I must admit I find the battle of minds quite…delicious,” he said flamboyantly.

I was sipping Port as he said this and spluttered, putting the glass down on the occasional table before wiping my mouth with my handkerchief. I’d been convinced he’d detested Birdie and was jealous of him. It appears I was mistaken.

Charles inhaled the cigar and then exhaled making playful smoke rings. “I don’t suppose you’d consider a third? I’m always looking for active new partners to take charge… put me in my place! ” he said sounding more than a little tipsy.

I had well and truly failed in any attempt at discretion. My cheeks burned with embarrassment at Ashe’s discovery. Maybe I’d sheltered myself for too long, because his outspoken candour and the assertion of desire were astonishing to me. It had taken me so very long to come to terms with my desires and submit to them. The fact that Ashe was open about his aspiration to join us to slake his lust astounded me. Ashes’ question inflamed my jealousy. I did not want to be intimate with Ashe and could not envisage Sebastian with another man. Sebastian is mine!

“I have shared the hospitality of my home and a meal with you, Charles. However, in this instance I will not be sharing,” I said stiffly.

Ashe let out a hearty laugh, and then puffed on his cigar. “Understood.” He eyed me lustfully for another moment before adding, “And what singular hospitality you have shown, dear fellow. Thank you and your glorious Mrs. Twigg. Never have I tasted such an exceptional steak pudding. You are a lucky man…on two counts it seems! Shame though, I can imagine Birdie is a quite the beast in the bedroom,” he gripped his crotch, gave it a rough tug, and adjusted the visible bulge.

I sent him a disapproving glare as my innards burned. Had he lost his mind or had he just imbibed too much alcohol? I rose and filled my glass. Charles held out his glass and I poured for him too.

“Tell me Charles. What gave us away?” I asked as there was no point in denial now. We were quite in our cups and I was curiously relaxed in Charles’ company. He sucked on the cigar and with a laugh let out a plume of blue grey smoke.

“You’ll need to rein in your affections if you and your beau socialize together outside of your home. The way you were looking at him gave me a ruddy stand. I could smell the yearning bubbling between you both.”

I’d told myself that during the dinner I’d done well at repressing my adoration, keeping myself in check, but if my affection for Cavell was clear to Charles, was it also transparent to my servants? When Cavell was in my proximity I crackled with a burning electric feeling in my veins, as if he were a drug and I his one and only addict.

Ashe continued, “As an artist I observe nature. And I observe people. I have an intense preoccupation with men like us. And for men like us…we must be self-vigilant and discrete. You are known for being meticulous, morally astute, prickly of personality…and of having an aversion to physical intimacy.”

“This is true.”

“However, I saw how you bloomed to life as soon as Birdie entered the room. You called him your companion… and you shook his hand .”

I had unwittingly given myself away! “Yes, I did. My issue is not so acute with him,” I admitted.

Ashe took a gulp of Port. “I initially envisaged your aversion to touch as a challenge, but it appears Mr. Robins has already placed his flag on the mountain, so to speak.”

“The flag is most certainly on the mountain.” My initial reluctance to call Ashe my friend was waning; maybe it was the flowing wine and a full belly? Maybe it was because I found I liked this insightful, talented artist? We were both quiet for a moment, the sound of the rain outside adding to the comforting warmth I felt inside.

“How did you know you preferred men?” I asked. In a state of fearful turmoil at the risk of eternal damnation, I had purposely avoided physical intimacy for near thirty years, and had not sought the company of men with the same inclination. I had believed for so long that my magnetism to the same sex was sinful and I was an abomination. But, sitting comfortably in my parlour with a new friend who understood what men like us go through to find fellow feeling made me curious about his experiences.

“Oh, I always had an inkling that I preferred boys,” Charles admitted, “Not that I spent much time with girls. Cecily was a late baby and so I was already at prep school when she was born. My first time, well that was a revelation. Friends of my father came to our country house one summer,” he began. “The family had several daughters, and a son of my age, named James. The girls were given rooms of their own while James bunked with me in my large bed. During the nights we would sleepily rub off on one another. We never spoke during the act, and I could not say a word about it to him during the day for fear he would tell.”

“How old were you?”

“Fifteen. I knew then that I was different. I was worried, and admitted to my father that I did not think fondly of girls, or even get a stand when a girl looked at me and fluttered her eyes. My father is a man of the world. He showed me erotic photographs he’d collected on his travels, and the only ones that aroused my interest were of men. Therefore, we both knew that laying with a woman was not in my nature.” He paused to puff on his cigar, and I remained enthralled by his telling.

“And your father did not reject you?” I asked in confusion.

“Father is well travelled and knows the nature of men. He told me that homosexuality is not feared, but accepted in lots of other cultures. I am grateful that he has a world view and loves me for who I am and not an idea of what the Christian church wants me to be. I’d say, he’s ahead of his time in that regard.”

I would agree with Charles on that. He was lucky to have a father like Henry Ashe. “So what happened after that summer?”

“Mother gave birth to Cecily and father went to Russia on one of his many expeditions. I moved to a new school a little closer to London. The school was different from the last, where I’d had trouble fitting in. On my first day I was taken under the wing by a group of six boys. We became fast friends. One day I was passed a note by one of them, George, which said to meet in the bathroom block after lights out. I was curious and a little scared to be caught prowling the halls at night. But I did it, and when I got there, all six were waiting for me. The door was locked, and they shoved me on the floor.

“Goodness!”

“I fought back; terrified they were going to beat me. But George pulled down my trousers and then each of them spat on my prick.”

“They did what?” I exclaimed.

“Indeed. I was horrified and confused. That was until George took my hands, dragged me up from the floor, and explained that I’d been initiated into the Frigging Club. Anyone in the club was entitled to touch the others cocks. There was no question that I would not agree to be a part of that club. Then the six of them made a circle around me, they all got their cocks out, I was invited to touch and then and we stood together and touched one another until we spent. It was a rather joyous initiation…and as you now know I developed quite the hunger for blessed seed.”

I was rather gob smacked by the candour and detail of Charles’ sexual experiences at prep school. In comparison I was very much a late developer, for I was too terrified to frig myself as a boy and would wake nightly after nocturnal emissions and shamefully hide my soiled pyjamas so the maid would not find them. I was shy and reserved at school, and far too scared of God’s wrath to make advances on other boys. I had one close friendship at school to fire my imagination but, before Sebastian, Euan was my only reference to sharing physical pleasure with another man.

“What was your awakening like?” Charles asked.

“Oh. My parents were devout and my schooling was at St Switherns.”

“Oh, ohhh. Poor you!” I supposed he had heard of the awful goings on at the school and that it closed down after the abuses were made public.

“I was too confused in my youth to do anything about my feelings. But I too was certain I could not lay with a girl. The thought of it seemed foreign to me. And although I grew up to hold many women in high esteem, I determined to remain a bachelor. My first experiences were with Euan…Lord Ardmillan. We were at university together.” I paused, a little distressed by the memories. I did not want to speak about our disastrous relationship.

“Oh…goodness. I’m so sorry. I think the less said about the betrayer, the better, aye,” Charles pouted.

“I could not agree more!”

Charles puffed on the cigar for a quiet moment before tentatively asking, “What does it feel like…to be in love? I’ve not yet been blessed—” He sounded a little defeated and pitiful. Charles had enjoyed far more couplings than I, and it shocked me to discover that not one had developed into loving feeling. I thought on it for a second and although I had once been reluctant to be forthcoming, I was a now changed man, and I had learned that, in the right type of company, men really should talk about such things. I took a swig of Port, wetting my tongue before giving a hesitant, yet honest answer.

“Love. It is the best of feelings and the worst,” I confessed.

“The worst?” Ashe seemed surprised by my admission. He tapped the cigar on the crystal ashtray on the table beside his chair.

“Yes, allowing oneself to be vulnerable is a damnable struggle. It has little to do with the act itself or the pleasure. Love is a connection, wordless, worshipful. With the right partner, love is looking in another’s eyes and coming home to yourself. Do you understand?” I had consumed far too much alcohol and it loosened my lips, my words surprising even me!

“Gosh,” Charles stared at me hungrily. “How very poetic. I’m rather moved, Benedict. You are happy to be in love?”

“Happiness doesn’t cover it. Love is contentment, yes; it is an inner contentment that I’ve never experienced before. I recommend it!” I replied dreamily and continued to be surprised at how candid and prosaic I was in my response.

“Will this cause…problems for me within the brotherhood?”

“Does Robins know of our secret affiliation, or the great work?”

“No. I do not believe he would be agreeable to that.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way, old chap! Mum’s the word! What he does not know cannot hurt him.” Charles inhaled the cigar then tossed his head back and let a stream of blue grey smoke billow before revealing ,

“You’re not the only brother to have a favourite. We live in the city of infernal vices, my friend. I’m sure you would be scandalized if you knew the sordid details!”

I found this rather curious and I wondered who among the men of power in Fratres Seminis retained a secret male lover and what scandalous behaviour Ashe could not mention. Were these men married?

“Your secret’s safe with me, brother,” he said, tapping the side of his nose with a finger. “Blessed is the seed, and all that, but—“

I worried for a moment about what he would have me do to keep my secret, and as if reading my thoughts he said.

“—you’ll need to make the effort to be a little more sociable with us. We are your brothers; Benedict. We keep one another’s secrets and retain a sacred bond of trust.”

Although I did not believe in the great work Blake spoke of I found the fraternity and support comforted me. “Thank you.”

Ashe paused for a moment to take another suck of his cigar which was nearly down to the root. He observed me with those penetrating artist’s eyes. “I must confess I’m rather twisted by the green-eyed monster that you are in love with another! It’s damnably inconvenient.”

“Charles!” I exclaimed, “You are a handsome devil of what? Thirty? You will surely find a man who sets you aflame! It took me until my fiftieth year to find true love.”

“Twenty-nine. And I jolly well hope I don’t have to wait as long as you!” he guffawed, but he seemed pleased by my flattery.

“So, you will attend weekly dinners with your brothers, and be my companion for father’s soirée next month.” No matter how playful the delivery I had no choice in the matter. Ashe now knew valuable information about my private life. And while I was feeling rather delighted to have the chance to view Henry Ashe’s books, I understood I must continue on this knives edge of our friendship with a sober mind.

Birdie opened the parlour door and stepped into the room. Again, I had not noticed him coming down the stairs. I wondered how much he’d heard, a question that was answered the moment his eyes met mine. I knew for certain he’d lingered in the hall and listened in to the scandalously frank conversation for his hazel eyes shone with whisky light for me. He sat at my side, took my hand in his, and kissed my knuckles.

“Ah, darlings. You are too adorable; I can’t stand it!” Charles teased lightly as he stubbed out the cigar in the crystal ashtray. “Although I would be delighted to be the relish in a gentleman sandwich, I can see an invitation will not be forthcoming from two as doe eyed as you.” I was scandalized and amused in equal measure and both Sebastian and I were unable to resist the laughter that bubbled up from within us.

“It’s quite disgusting how happy you two are,” Ashe pouted foppishly. I was all too aware of the lightness in my heart caused not only by the wine I’d consumed, but also by the accepting company. It felt surprisingly good to be myself.

“Oh well, while I would love to stay and chat, three’s a crowd, and I have work to do!” Charles beamed, then tossed back the dregs of Port from his glass, placed it on the occasional table, and stood announcing, “It has been a most enlightening evening, Benedict. Please give my best wishes to your cook! A pleasure to meet you, Birdie. Do take good care of our Benedict, he is quite the treasure.”

Birdie let out a light chuckle, but I was rather embarrassed. “Would you like Wilkins to hail a growler, Charles?” I inquired.

“No, no, that’s quite alright. The rain has lessened a little, I have an umbrella and I don’t have far to go. A walk will do me good, blow away the cobwebs. Have to get the illustrations to my editor by lunchtime tomorrow,” he said, collecting his folio and clutching it to his chest .

Personally, I would not walk the streets of London at night, even in an affluent area like Bloomsbury, but Ashe knew his mind and who was I to coddle him.

After Wilkins helped Charles into his greatcoat, the folio still clutched to his chest for protection, we saw Ashe to the door, and both bade him goodnight. It was eight o’clock and I told Wilkins that I required nothing else so all servants could retire for the night.

“But, sir, I need to carry out my nightly duties and lock up,” he protested.

“Do not concern yourself. After the scare we’ve had today I am quite capable of turning off the lights and locking the door this one time.” Wilkins nodded and took his leave, heading to the doorway that led to his servant’s quarters in the basement.

I returned to the parlour, closing the door succinctly behind me. I rarely spent time in the parlour of an evening, but due to the rarity of having guests it was the warmest and most welcoming room. Sebastian was inspecting the damage to my defiled cabinet. He turned back to me and gave a regretful look.

“There was really no need to go at it so violently and do this much damage. A lock pick would have had it open in a jiffy.”

“Indeed. I suppose Inspector Dancer arrived at the same conclusion. Come.” I held out my hand. Sebastian returned to the couch where, to my surprise, he did not sit beside me, but eased himself onto my lap and threaded his arms around my neck. Heat rushed equally to my groin, and to burn my cheeks. I was not used to displays of ardour, most certainly not in this particular room. Sebastian fingered my dark curls away from my brow and caressed my face with trembling digits. Such tenderness made tears leap to my eyes.

“I heard everything you said,” he confessed softly.

“I thought so. I am a little embarrassed…those words should have been for you alone.”

“Ah, Benedict, my love, Ashe is correct, you are too adorable,” Sebastian leaned in and tasted my lips. He slowly mapped my jaw and throat with kisses and huskily said, “I know we did not have an arrangement to meet this evening, but I found I could not stay away. Last night was…”

“Exhilarating?” I offered.

He observed me through those round brass spectacles he’d used for his disguise. There was such tenderness in the look that my heart stuttered. “Yes. I have waited a lifetime to find a lover who understands me as you do. Each time we part I cannot stop thinking about you. I want more!”

I caressed his lightly stubbled cheek with the back of my fingers, “As do I.” I paused for a moment and then confessed.

“I was scared to death the first time you kissed me, terrified for my immortal soul. But then you kissed me again, and for once I chose to be honest with myself. There was a burning longing inside me and your kisses fanned the flame. No matter how many times I had been told what I wanted was wrong, I could not find any wrongness in the way we join together. I’m not afraid anymore, Sebastian. I’m not afraid.”

Sebastian said not a word, but leaned in and claimed my mouth. The kiss was soft and gentle, not the fevered plundering I’d expected. Fire ignited in my groin. I attempted to deepen the kiss but Sebastian pulled away, shaking his head, a playful grin on his face.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

“But, but…what about the servants?”

“Have you learned nothing from me Benedict Hannan?” Sebastian grinned.

“Let’s pretend.”

****