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The Earl spent most of the day at Sir John's, slowly recovering from the worst effects of his over-indulgence. Sir John had sent word to the Dowager that Iphicles had stayed with him last night, leaving her to draw the inference that they had made a pretty batch of it together. Both men knew they would have to endure a little fond scolding about the bad habits of the male sex, but it was infinitely better than Alicia finding out the truth. Yet again Iphicles stood in Sir John's debt.

He acknowledged as much when he came to take his leave.

"It's not that I mind, Royston," Sir John informed him with disconcerting frankness. "More that I am worried about what has caused your unpredictable behaviour of late."

Flushing slightly, Iphicles gave no answer save to thank the man again, and returned home. There he was informed by Brownlow, who yet again showed his worth by appearing not to notice the state of the pale and unshaven Earl, that a visitor had called for him once this morning and twice this afternoon, appearing most desirous of speaking to the Earl. Iphicles took the card that had been left, and the remaining blood left his face when he saw the Duke's name on it. Automatically he thanked Brownlow, before instructing him that he was still not at home to visitors and retiring to his room to wash and change.

Once there he took great care over shredding the card into as many small pieces as he could manage, desperately wishing he could do the same to himself. It seemed the Duke knew of his visitor yesterday; he must now believe that he still exercised the same power over the Earl as he once had and intended to put that to use again. Either that, or the man simply wished to crow. With a groan, Iphicles bent forward over the bowl and emptied the jug of water over his still-aching head. God, what a damned idiot he'd been.  He flicked back his wet hair, the resulting rivulets of water dampening his shirt, causing the fine cotton to cling transparently to his skin as his course of action became suddenly clear.
 
 

Despite the reluctance evinced by his stomach at the thought, Iphicles joined his family for dinner. His mind was made up and he wished to waste no time in informing his mother of his decision.

"I am sure Sir John will be delighted to accompany you, Mama, when you wish to join me," he reassured the Dowager who was looking decidedly pettish at the news he had broken. "He is of course welcome to stay at Royston for as long as he wishes."

"I think it a capital idea," Harry struck in. "By going ahead, Iph can make sure that all is ready to receive you and Sir John."

Alicia turned injured eyes on him at his betrayal. "But Harry, nobody goes to the country at this time of year."

Harry smiled at her. "True, Mama, but just think - you will be setting a trend. And I do think it a good idea to have something else to do once Iorweth and I are gone. If you stayed here, you would no doubt be moped."

The Dowager sighed at the reminder of her son's departure. "No doubt you are right," she confessed in a small voice, toying with the calf feet jelly on the plate before her as though her appetite had quite deserted her.
 
 

Iphicles finally knew a sense of contentment. He had arrived late yesterday afternoon to a genuinely warm welcome from his housekeeper, Mrs Thornton, and had almost instantly felt his heart begin to ease. A good night's sleep, a morning spent listening to the happenings in the lives of the principal figures in his household, a brief update from his bailiff, and now the delight of a good horse under him on a summer's afternoon on his own estate filled him with peace.

The larks singing overhead, the soft thud of the horse's hooves, the slight creak of the saddle, and the smell of summer grass were all things he associated intimately with Royston. He smiled as he passed by the climbing tree on which he and Harry had played so often, remembering when they had defended it tooth and nail from their cousins on their one and only visit to Royston. The older boy, George, had given Harry such a pasting one day that Alicia had declared the boy must be removed from her house at once.  They had not returned.

He paused at the crest of the hill and sat looking down on Royston. As had been the intention of the genius who had created the gardens, the long ride drew an observer's eye irresistibly to Royston House.  Designed by a well-known disciple of the Palladin style, its symmetry and proportion were exquisite, while its light stone seemed to shine in the sun. This westerly approach was one which suited Iphicles better than the conventional southern one; he loved his home in every season, every aspect, but the openness of this countryside appealed to him more than did the formal gardens, even though every care had been taken to ensure they reflected nature.

His horse began to fidget at the enforced inactivity, and Iphicles dismounted. He loosened his horse's girth, unfastened the reins from one side of the bit to give the animal length enough to graze without troubling him, and sat down, his back propped against the sun-warmed stone of the obelisk behind him, memorial to some long-dead Earl. Settling himself more comfortably, he laid his head back against the rock, looking down on his home, feeling the sunshine warming him through his clothes. The drowsy humming of the bees, the horse cropping the short turf, its tail whisking occasionally to keep the flies away, and his own deep breathing were the only sounds in the world.
 

Soft whickers brought him awake some time later, and he opened his eyes to find his horse's head was up, its ears enquiringly pricked. He twisted his head round to follow the direction of the animal's concentration, and found a figure seated on a dark horse a few yards away, sitting still and simply watching him.

For an instant, he thought he must still be dreaming, but then the man swung off his horse, leaving it to wander freely and approached Iphicles. He stopped close to the Earl, one polished boot propped on the lowest level of the monument's base, an arm resting on his muscular thigh as he leaned forward and regarded Iphicles.

The Earl got slowly to his feet.

"What in hell's name are you doing here?" He was furious to hear that his voice shook with the shock of this unexpected visitation.

The Duke's eyes gleamed momentarily as he straightened. "Don't get up on my account, Iphicles, please. You cannot know what a charming picture you make, nestled against mother earth, your limbs sprawled in so artless and inviting a way, your eyes closed peacefully and your lips very slightly apart as you breathe softly. Quite charmingly pastoral. All that is missing is your herd of cattle to drive and the haystalk in your mouth. "

"What the devil do you want, Aresborough?" He would not let the man see how his sudden appearance had caught him off-balance, though his knuckles were white around his reins.

Aresborough's expression was watchful as his eyes dwelt reflectively on the Earl's face. "I consider that to be a most grudging welcome considering the length of journey that has been mine to visit you here, not to mention the means I have had to employ to ascertain the path you took on your ride this afternoon. Are you not going to profess yourself pleased to see me?"

"Understand this, Aresborough, I made an error of judgement once; it does not give you the right to hound me ever after." Iphicles glared into the dark eyes, so unreadable on his. "Move on to your next victim; you will gain nothing more from me."

He was aware that his breath was coming swiftly, but he refused to be the first to look away.

"If that is how you feel, Iphicles, why did you visit me not three nights since?" The smooth voice for once held no mockery; in fact, it held no discernible emotion at all.

Iphicles hesitated for a brief instant. "To offer you my apologies for my brother's behaviour. That is all."

One dark eyebrow raised slightly. "For which aspect of his behaviour in particular? His very existence demands apology, though I do not think that you may properly be held accountable for that."

Suppressing his sudden urge to agree with the Duke, Iphicles merely said stiffly, "I refer to his machinations in bringing me back to London."

"I see." Dark eyes watched him, intent. "There was no other reason for your visit?"

Iphicles gave a crack of jeering laughter. "Given how I found you, Aresborough, with your cock buried deep in the mouth of one of your tame pets, why should you think there might be another reason?"

The Duke's gaze dropped suddenly and his lips twisted. "Why indeed?"

Iphicles turned to his horse and began to tighten the animal's girth. "There is a passable inn not ten miles from here," he said offhandedly. "You have plenty of time to reach it before sunset. Moreover it lies on the road back to London so you will have a good start on your journey tomorrow morning."

He was unprepared for the Duke's reaction. A hand fiercely gripped his shoulder and pulled him round.

Aresborough's dark face was almost unrecognisable, filled with fury. "We finish this now," he snarled. "Speak plainly, Iphicles - why did you come to my house?"

Anger surged in the Earl's breast, rising to meet the Duke's own temper. "To see if I had wronged you in my opinion of your character," he spat, his lip curling in disgust as he remembered the sight that had greeted him. "Evidently I had not."

The Duke released him abruptly. Iphicles glared at him for a moment longer, before turning back to his horse to refasten its reins.

"I had thought you were not coming." Aresborough's voice was low.

Iphicles spun round, his brow furrowed with impatient question. He wanted it over, done, to recover the sense of peace that had been his such a short while before, yet the Duke's unusual hesitancy caught his attention and stayed his tongue.

Aresborough met Iphicles' eyes briefly, and the Earl's gaze narrowed as he saw Aresborough's uncharacteristic defensiveness. Then he realised; this was yet another ploy, one which he had not previously encountered, to be sure, but it was just another of the Duke's games.

"Why should you have expected me?" he flicked contemptuously at Aresborough. "I had already told you I wanted nothing more to do with you."

Anger flickered in Aresborough's eyes at Iphicles' tone, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh. "You did not come in answer?"

"In answer?" Iphicles repeated, angry and confused. "I don't understand you."

The Duke made an impatient gesture. "That damned letter."

As he took in Iphicles' stare, his mouth twisted in a sneer. "No matter," he dismissed abruptly. "I will leave you to your respectable life, Iphicles. I shall not bother you again."

He turned away and strode towards his black horse, which was tearing hungrily at the grass, one foot through its reins.

"Aresborough?"

When there was no response, Iphicles led his horse after the Duke.

"Aresborough."

"What?" the Duke snapped out, swinging round to face him.

Iphicles shrugged slightly. "I don't know what you mean. What letter?"

The Duke's eyes were hard as they quartered his face suspiciously. "Do not presume too far, Royston. Whatever maudlin thoughts I may inadvisedly have committed to paper were due simply to an excess of brandy. Do not think to hear me repeat them."

"Aresborough, I do not know to what you refer. I have received no letter from you."

The Duke's jaw tightened before he spoke. "My man delivered a letter to you, the morning after our meeting at Vauxhall." His tone was sceptical. "Do you try to tell me you did not receive it?"

Iphicles shook his head, helplessly. "I have had no letter from you, Aresborough. What did it say?"

Aresborough's eyes were hard still. "It was delivered to your house. Do not play me for a fool, Royston."

Confused, Iphicles cast his mind back. He had received nothing other than endless invitations from Jack Holloway, and bills; any invitations except to him privately had been seized upon long before the post had ever reached him by his diversion-seeking mama and --

"Harry," he hissed it, knowing it for the truth even while he could barely credit his brother with such outrageous behaviour. He glared at the Duke, sudden fury lending a vicious edge to his voice. "Tell me, Aresborough, did you seal the letter?"

The Duke's eyes narrowed. "Of course. What has that to do with anything?"

Iphicles took a very slow, deep breath and let it out equally slowly before he trusted himself to reply. "Everything, I should imagine. I cannot but believe that my brother, upon seeing your seal on a private billet addressed to me, should feel it incumbent upon himself to interfere."

For a heartbeat the Duke was silent, then his face filled with wrath. "He has gone too far this time."

He turned to his horse and wrenched its head up. Iphicles stepped forward and grabbed his arm, forcing Aresborough back to face him.

"Agreed," he gritted out. "But he is my responsibility."

The Duke's eyes were filled with rage, still, and Iphicles' grip tightened on his arm. "It is for me to deal with, nobody else," he reiterated, his voice holding a threat which boded ill for the absent Captain.

The Duke's chest rose and fell swiftly as he glared at the Earl. As Iphicles held his gaze, his breathing gradually slowed, and his eyes began to lose their violence. "Very well," he conceded finally. "But if you wish for a Second..."

Iphicles gave a sudden choke of laughter. "I do not think it will come to that," he informed Aresborough. "He is, after all, my brother."

All desire to laugh swiftly left him as he looked into the Duke's eyes. There was an uncertainty there which he had never seen before. Suddenly aware that he held the man by the arm, he let go. Aresborough turned and concentrated his attention upon sorting out his horse.

"So this letter," Iphicles broached finally, his hand running over the velvet muzzle of his own mount. "What did it say?"

The Duke's movements stilled for an instant, and then he because very busy in checking the fit of the bridle. "Aresborough," Iphicles said quietly.

The Duke turned back round, his lips twisted self-deprecatingly. "As I said, jug-bitten maunderings, no more."

Iphicles' hand dropped from his horse's head to his side. Aresborough's eyes followed its path, then looked back into the Earl's face.

"I may have asked you to talk to me, to allow me to explain that matters between us were not as you thought," he admitted at last.

His heartbeat suddenly uneven, his throat dry, Iphicles stared into the Duke's eyes. "Then talk to me," he invited breathlessly.

The Duke moved forward. "I would rather show you, Iphicles."

"No." Dropping his horse's reins, Iphicles stepped abruptly backwards. Aresborough stopped.

"I want you to tell me," the Earl said. He knew that if the Duke were to touch him, the man would be able to convince him of anything he chose.

Anger flared briefly in the Duke, then he looked away from Iphicles, his face unreadable. "Very well, Iphicles." His voice was clipped and low. "You were right. To begin with, your seduction was a challenge, a game, no more. You were so upright and proper, and with you being brother to the self-righteous Harry Fairfax, how could I be expected to resist the temptation?"

His head pounding at the man's brutal candour, Iphicles looked abruptly away. "You are honest at least," he managed, his throat tight.

He was vaguely aware that the Duke's gaze was on his face. "To begin with, I said," Aresborough's voice was rough. "It is different now."

Iphicles looked dazedly at him. The Duke's eyes were steady on his as he moved towards Iphicles, not stopping until his muscular body was so close to the Earl that Iphicles imagined he could feel the heat emanating from him.

"It is not like that now, Iphicles."

He shivered at the caress of the low voice, and then he was aware of nothing else as the Duke leaned in and his lips met Iphicles' own. Iphicles felt the soft warmth, and his mouth opened to the Duke, his eyes closing as Aresborough's tongue slowly pushed into his mouth and he tasted the Duke again. His arms went blindly around Aresborough, hands clutching, and he whimpered deep in his throat as he moved closer against the hard body, his tongue meeting the Duke's, lightly stroking in a way which drew a sound from Aresborough.

"You see, Iphicles," Aresborough's voice was husky when finally they broke the kiss, "This is how it is now."

Iphicles remained pressed against the Duke, feeling the warmth of his body through their clothes, pressed thigh to thigh, cock to swollen cock, breathing in the heady scent that was the Duke's own as Aresborough's mouth buried deep in his neck.

"We should move," Iphicles managed breathlessly at last. "Anyone might see us here."

The Duke's hands moved to caress his ass, causing the Earl to arch in response, pushing himself closer to Aresborough. Aresborough's whispered breath was hot in his ear. "And if they do, Iphicles, what does it matter?"

Iphicles was breathing fast, a sound escaping him as the Duke's finger slowly traced the centre seam of his buckskins. "They will all know sooner or later, Iphicles." That hypnotic voice again, sending shivers through him.

Lips moved against his neck as far as the neckcloth would allow, and then a tongue flicked his ear while a seeking hand slid down the front of his body, separating him briefly from the Duke to stroke his cock through his breeches.

His heart was pounding as he finally pulled away from the Duke. "Not here," he said firmly. He caught the Duke's mouth in a brief kiss, his tongue pushing demandingly into the moist warmth before he made himself pull away again. "The spinney. We're less likely to be disturbed."

The Duke captured his mouth again and kissed him in return, his tongue thrusting insistently in a promise so explicit that it was all Iphicles could do not to whimper. Aresborough finally released the Earl's mouth and began to unfasten his waistcoat buttons, his hands slipping underneath the loosened garment, unerringly finding Iphicles' nipples with his long fingers. He stroked them through the light shirt before running his nails hard across them, hungrily watching the Earl's face as he gasped at the sensation. Then he stopped, and pulled Iphicles' waistcoat together again.

"You are right," he confessed, "I would hate, really hate, to be disturbed in what I have in mind for you, Iphicles."

It was a short way only to the spinney, but the journey seemed to the Earl to last forever, for each step of the way was filled with the Duke's low voice telling Iphicles precisely what he was going to do to him once they reached the privacy of the spinney, how he would use his mouth and hands to bring him to quivering desperation before he finally thrust deep inside him.

They didn't bother even to tether the horses, but dropped the reins and reached for one another. The Duke's tongue thrusting excitedly into his mouth and the feel of Aresborough's body against his were almost more than Iphicles could bear and his hands fumbled as he tried to unfasten the Duke's coat. Aresborough pulled away for an instant to help Iphicles rid him of this, and then was back, pulling the Earl's shirt open so that his eager fingers could skim across his nipples. Iphicles was gasping as they kissed desperately and then the Duke began to strip him properly of his clothing. He made an attempt to reciprocate, pulling away the neckcloth, opening the waistcoat and shirt to reveal the clearly defined muscles of the Duke's broad chest, but then the Duke's hot mouth closed around his nipple, his teeth scraping the hard nub, and it was all he could do to remain standing as Aresborough's hand lightly stroked his fullness through the buckskins.

The Duke raised his head and looked into Iphicles' eyes as he stroked him again, causing the Earl to whimper and arch into his touch.

"Lie down, Iphicles."

The unevenness of the voice excited him beyond bearing and he instantly complied, lying on his back in the sunlight dappling through the branches above them. He stared up at the Duke standing over him, eyes drawn irresistibly to where Aresborough's own buckskins strained over excited flesh.

"Aresborough, please." His own voice was ragged.

The Duke's breathing came fast as he looked down at the Earl. "What do you want me to do, Iphicles?"

"Fuck me." It came out as a desperate demand.

The Duke suddenly knelt down beside Iphicles and, leaning forward, kissed him. "In a while, Iphicles," he promised when he drew back.

He moved and began to remove the Earl's right boot.

"Aresborough," Iphicles protested despairingly.

The Duke paused and looked at him. "I want to see you first, Iphicles," he said. "I want to see your body waiting for me."

Iphicles closed his eyes in frustration as he felt the Duke remove his other boot, then he was scarcely breathing as skilful fingers moved against his stomach to undo the top fastening before working on the side fastenings. He opened his eyes again in time to raise his head slightly and watch the Duke slowly fold the flap down and expose his eager cock. Aresborough leaned forward, his mouth closing briefly over the head, and his tongue swirled hotly, sending Iphicles arching upwards in helpless delight. He was still gasping when the Duke stripped him swiftly of his buckskins and then stood up again, looking down on the naked Earl. Iphicles felt no self-consciousness as he lay in the dappled sunlight, watching the Duke's eyes moving slowly over his body, lingering on his full cock. He stretched wantonly in the soft afternoon air, the harsh edge of a twig under his shoulder briefly interrupting the softness of the grass beneath him as he luxuriated in the warmth of the greenly-filtered sunlight and the heat of the Duke's gaze. As he saw Aresborough's eyes devouring him, he smiled slightly and opened his legs, drawing his right knee out and sliding it upwards on the grass until his achingly full cock was displayed further for Aresborough.

The Duke was suddenly on him, his tongue forcing his lips apart, hands greedy on his skin until the lips were abruptly gone from him and two fingers were being pushed into his eager mouth. As instant later, the Duke was sliding a slick finger inside him. Iphicles gasped and thrust down, wanting, needing, but somehow the Duke knew and added a second finger, working him, stretching him, until finally Aresborough was satisfied. He withdrew his fingers and undid his buckskins, freeing his rigid flesh. Iphicles bit hard into his lower lip, trying for control, as he looked and saw the Duke produce the familiar glass bottle from his pocket, upending it to pour some of the liquid directly onto his hardness, before casting the bottle aside, his hand smoothing the viscous liquid until his cock was glistening.

Any attempt at control was forgotten as Iphicles felt the blunt head nudging against him before Aresborough pushed his legs up and began to slide inside. He was crying out helplessly, pain and pleasure both, until the Duke drew back slightly and angled himself differently, pushing harder this time. This time he wasn't even aware of crying out, just of a voice rising in the summer afternoon in uncontrollable delight. Again and again, the Duke's size and hardness pushed deep into him, until his voice was lost and whimpers were all that remained. That was when Aresborough leaned forward to kiss him, his hand wrapping gently around Iphicles' cock. He straightened up again and thrust harder, his touch on Iphicles' straining flesh in time with his rhythm, and as he buried himself deep inside Iphicles, the Earl came, his arcing seed shining in the sunlight. And still Aresborough pushed into Iphicles, desperately now, sounds escaping him with each thrust, until he looked down at Iphicles' flushed face and his hips suddenly pumped erratically as he gasped out his completion.

Iphicles held Aresborough close as the Duke collapsed onto him, his head hidden against Iphicles' shoulder, Iphicles' hands beneath the Duke's shirt slipping on the damp flesh.  Aresborough's breathing finally slowed, and with a kiss to the Earl's neck, Aresborough moved off him and lay down beside him with a satisfied sigh.  Iphicles turned onto his side, his head propped on his hand to better watch the Duke's face, unable quite to believe that he was not dreaming. In the space of one short hour, everything had changed beyond comprehension. The past weeks of misery were forgotten; all that mattered was the fact that the Duke was with him.

"How did you find me?" he asked suddenly.

The Duke shifted slightly to become more comfortable where he lay before answering the Earl. "When I realised you did not intend to return my visit, I paid you another visit, on which occasion your butler graciously informed me that you were gone out of town." His lips curved as he looked at Iphicles.  "It did not take too wild a guess on my part to reach the conclusion that you were visiting your estate, and your butler was obliging enough to inform me, albeit in tones of shocked reproach, that this was in Hertfordshire, not Yorkshire as I had remembered it to be."

"Good God!" Iphicles stared at him with an awful sort of fascination. "You really thought me so beyond the pale?"

The Duke grinned suddenly. "Not at all, Iphicles. But I could hardly ask him outright where Royston was, now could I? And to find that I had in fact regularly attended races held on the Heath not five miles from here was something of a chastening experience."

"And I thought you had done your research." Iphicles shook his head in mock disgust.

"Only into those aspects which affected me at the time, Iphicles"

"Fair enough," the Earl allowed. He lay quietly for a moment, before it dawned on him.

"And Caroline affected you, did she not?" He sat up, glaring down at the Duke. "What caused her sudden unexplained absence, Aresborough? You did not threaten her?"

"Iphicles," the Duke protested, seemingly amused as he followed the Earl's train of thought without difficulty. "I would not do so to such a remarkable woman. Perhaps I needed to apply a little pressure the first time, but upon the second occasion she saw that nothing would deflect me from my intention and even had the audacity to give me her unexpurgated opinion of my character and my behaviour towards you."

"The second occasion?" Iphicles became aware that his jaw was hanging open and swiftly shut it. "You mean she ended it between us because you forced her to?"  And then the vision of Caroline giving Aresborough a piece of her mind would not go away, and he laughed.

"She is a remarkable woman," he agreed, laying down slowly beside the Duke.

"But tell me, why did you not dispose of Harry at the same time?" he pursued. He was teasing, yet suddenly remembered his brother's action and his lips compressed. "Talking of whom, I shall have to pay brother dearest a visit tomorrow before he returns to his heroic deeds. I cannot believe even Harry would do such a thing."

The Duke shrugged briefly. "He and I do not see eye to eye," he said. "In his own twisted and, thankfully, inimitable way, he probably thought that he did you a favour."

"But still," Iphicles expostulated, "To appropriate a sealed letter addressed to me goes beyond anything."

"I can only hope that he did not read it." Aresborough's voice was sour.  "I do not enjoy the thought of Captain Harry Fairfax knowing anything of me that I do not choose him to know."

Iphicles looked quickly at him. "What was in it, Aresborough?"

The Duke shrugged again before responding in a carefully off-hand way. "An attempt to explain to you that things were not as you had thought, and something of how I wished them to be."  His lips twisted self-deprecatingly.  "I believe that I even painstakingly explained that I wrote to you rather than inflicted my presence upon you to show that I took notice of your request not to bother your family again. Had I known how your family would bother me, I would not have been so compliant."

Iphicles laughed suddenly. "At least my mother will be relieved by the overturning of the ban upon contact."

Aresborough's eyebrow rose in query.

"Your shameless flirtation - about which we still need to have words - made quite an impression," Iphicles explained. "I do believe you might be able to cut Sir John out with her if you were to put your mind to it."

Aresborough shuddered artistically. "Iphicles," he complained, "Just tell me that you have not given her my direction in Oxfordshire."

Iphicles regarded him consideringly. "Not yet," he finally admitted. "Although…" His voice suddenly faltered as the Duke raised himself onto one elbow and his hand began to trace light patterns over Iphicles' chest. "Perhaps I will not do so after all," he managed, his breathing uneven. He fell silent as the Duke leaned over and began to lick at the mixture of sweat and seed on his naked body, his breathing quickening further at the feel of that hot tongue on his skin, licking again and again.

"You see, Iphicles," the Duke finally raised his head and looked down at the Earl. "I do not wish anyone to disturb us any more than may be avoided."

He returned his mouth to Iphicles' skin, this time his tongue rasping as it swiped over a nipple, causing Iphicles to jolt upwards. "You are no doubt right," he got out at last, his hands burying themselves in the Duke's dark hair. And then he was able to say nothing further, only to cry out Aresborough's name as the Duke swallowed his cock, moistness and warmth tight around him. He raised his head briefly, and the sight of his cock sliding between the Duke's lips, the sight of the Duke, ripped a cry from him and, without warning, his seed spilled into Aresborough's mouth.

He was vaguely aware of the Duke moving back up, and he reached blindly for him, holding him close as heaving breaths shook him in response to his release. After a while, his breathing eased and he let go his tight hold on the Duke, who again moved so that he lay down beside Iphicles. The Earl began to make his way down Aresborough's body in turn, intent on showing the Duke what he knew he could not say. He finally took the swollen cock in his mouth, loving the way Aresborough's hands tightened in his hair, but loving even more the taste of the Duke and the way he filled his mouth, filled his senses. He slid his mouth down, allowing his teeth to graze very slightly, as he reached for the Duke's balls and began a gentle yet insistent caress. For an instant, the Duke's groan brought back to mind the image of Ogborne kneeling before Aresborough and his eyes screwed shut in an attempt to block out the memory, even while his tongue worked against the Duke's cock. The memory faded abruptly when he heard Aresborough gasp his name as he came.

Afterwards Iphicles lay on the soft summer grass with his head resting against Aresborough's hip, the Duke's hand moving idly through his hair as Iphicles' breath whispered across his skin, following the path of the lazily moving sunlight and shadows.  Lying quietly listening to the Duke's breathing, feeling the warmth of Aresborough's body next to his, Iphicles knew that this was where he belonged.
 
 
 

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 sopha.

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 sopha, 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 sopha, dismissing the recently appeared Brownlow as he did so.

"But will you be well enough to go to the Trent's 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 Trent's.

"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.

 

The End