Chapter 10

Ten

It was a rainy morning in Manhattan, as Leo climbed into the back of a limo, reminding him of winter in Austria and making him homesick. Leo wished that he and Markus were headed to his townhouse in Vienna or one of his homes in the country, instead of making the short trek to the Olympia to face Muriel Hormsby.

They were going to plead for her mercy and assistance, but Leo wasn't sure he was worthy of either, the more he learned about Jonathon's exploits and his reputation. None of it truly shocked or offended Leo, he only blamed himself for the desperation and loneliness that had caused Jonathon to act out so destructively.

"My source says Ms. Hormsby is still furious and has only agreed to see you because she wants her nephew found," Markus warned, but Leo made a dismissive sound as he watched the traffic and pedestrians outside the limo.

He had no doubt that Muriel had come to similar conclusions as Leo, given time to reflect upon Jonathon's outburst at the gala and the weeks they'd spent together at Sch?nbühel. All this time, Leo had believed he'd done the honorable thing, but in reality, he'd behaved like an entitled monster.

It was that sense of entitlement and his absolute faith in Sabine that had led Leo astray. He believed that he was destined to be Margrave and that Sabine was devout in her loyalty to him first. He thought they were completely united in their desire to reshape the House of Hessen into a modern, environmentally responsible foundation and to restore as much of Austria's natural beauty as possible for future generations.

Now, in hindsight, Leo could see how easily that trust had been manipulated and how his arrogance, inflexibility, and pride had been used against him. But he had been so swept up in his fascination and need for Jonathon, he had missed the signs. He should have gone on the defensive from the beginning instead of confiding in Sabine.

He went back to the morning she had learned about them and felt like a colossal fool. He had been too groggy and surly to realize that that was when he had handed over control and Jonathon began to slip through his fingers.

Once again, Leo had woken up in a petulant mood, craving Jonathon and resenting all the obligations and expectations placed on him. He had been given a castle and was expected to behave like the proper lord. But Sch?nbuhel may as well have been a monastery, there was little else to do but read ancient books and contemplate one's choices.

"Verdammt!" Leo had scrubbed his face and looked longingly at the divot in the pillow next to his. The bed was too big, and now, Leo resented the empty space next to him after their private ball and sleepover a few nights prior. He had fallen asleep again and missed his chance to say "goodbye" before Jonathon had snuck back to his room. "This is ridiculous," Leo muttered at the other pillow, tracing the blue embroidery. "We're both adults and this is supposed to be my castle."

There was a quick knock before the sitting room door was opened and Leo heard Sabine's determined stride as her heels clicked on the wood and marble floors.

"Good. You're up," she said on her way to open the curtains. "I just got off the phone with London and everything's going well at the conference, but I wanted to run a few things by you before the next session started."

"And before I could call Andreas myself?" Leo guessed as he pushed himself upright, tugging the covers around his waist.

She hissed apologetically, crossing her arms and canting toward the bed. "We thought you might have an easier time relaxing and leaving it in his hands if we started your morning with an update," she said and held up a set of crossed fingers.

"I know how I'd like to start my morning," Leo muttered under his breath, glancing at the pillow again. Andreas and London were the last thing on Leo's mind for once, but that had made his mood even worse because he had to wait until later to "start" his day the way he wanted to. And to make matters worse, Leo was pinned down in a cold, empty bed with a heavy, twitching hard-on.

"Did you have another rough night?" Sabine asked in concern as she approached and reached for his cheek.

"It wasn't too rough," he recalled but immediately blocked all thoughts of Jonathon gagging around his cock and whimpering and moaning as he rode Leo.

"You do look a little…drained," she noted while brushing the hair away from his eyes. "Should I call for the doctor?"

Leo shushed and waved her off. "I'm fine." He'd be a lot better once he'd had a few moments alone with Jonathon.

"Perhaps breakfast will help," she suggested and went to throw back the covers but Leo grabbed her wrist.

"I wouldn't," he advised, shaking his head.

"Oh!" She blushed and her gaze swung away from his bare chest and widened when she spotted the bottle of lube on the other bedside table. "Oh," she said loudly as she looked around the room for other clues. "You've had…" Sabine had to clear her throat and she went to the window, turning her back to Leo and giving him more privacy. "You've had a guest, I take it."

"Did Andreas have anything interesting to report?" he asked as he got up and headed to his closet for a robe.

"No. Everything's going well and there should be more than enough support. Please tell me it's not one of the footmen or a maid, Leo."

"It is not," he replied, tying the belt on his way to the bathroom and she followed.

"It would almost have to be, unless it's the butler or the housekeeper and there's no way, " she laughed nervously.

Leo snorted in agreement, swiping his toothbrush and the toothpaste off the counter. "There's no way," he agreed. "They're both married and in their sixties and seventies, I believe you said, and they're far too professional," he mused, then chuckled as he brushed.

"That would only leave Ms. Hormsby and Mr. Hawthorne," she said, her brow rising as she stared him down through the mirror.

"It would," he confirmed once he was done rinsing. He decided to skip shaving because Jonathon said he liked beards. "I'll let you work out that little mystery, but in the meantime I want you to tell the housekeeper to send white roses to Mr. Hawthorne's room and lilies to Ms. Hormsby's every morning. Make up a story about being concerned that they're homesick or something so she thinks you're being thoughtful," he suggested and dared her to nag him.

"Very well…" Sabine said slowly. "It's just that you said that he was too young and too—" she started but stopped when Leo straightened and turned.

"Worry about the flowers, Sabine. What I do with Mr. Hawthorne or his aunt is not your concern."

"Yes, dearest," she said and left him to finish dressing.

That was when Leo should have acted. He should have warned Jonathon that she knew and Leo should have predicted that she would act to protect his reputation and his role as Margrave. She had been laser-focused on ensuring every aspect of the transition and Leo's assumption ceremony went as smoothly as possible.

If he had stopped for just a moment and used his head instead of his heart and his cock, Leo would have guessed that she'd see Jonathon as a threat and would begin to gently extract him. That was exactly what Sabine had done, from the looks of things. Jonathan was neatly—surgically—removed from Leo's life and he had barely noticed, with the exception of his own crushing heartbreak. But Leo had accepted it and did his best to move on, with Sabine's assistance.

Leo would be absolutely furious if he were in Muriel's shoes. She was Jonathon's guardian and while she might not have been the most perceptive and vigilant when it came to his activities, it was obvious that she cared deeply for him. Leo had taken advantage of her trust and he felt an extra sense of shame and guilt as the car turned onto 72nd Street and the Olympia came into sight.

"No matter what Ms. Hormsby says or does, do not interfere. I deserve her condemnation and worse," Leo said to Markus.

"We'll see," he replied with a dubious snort. "I'll have a hard time finding work if it gets out that my last client was killed by a small, elderly woman with a cane and an apricot poodle."

"I've never had the pleasure of meeting the poodle but the lady can be formidable," Leo said and leaned to get a look at the Olympia's facade. He had studied pictures and videos, but he was impressed by the classical architecture as the limo pulled up to the porte cochère, a blend of German Renaissance Revival and Victorian neo Gothic.

Leo was also nervous as the driver opened the door and Markus got out to scan for anything or anyone suspicious. "We're good," he said quietly, with a discreet flick of his fingers to signal that it was safe.

"That remains to be seen." Leo climbed out, keeping his head down as he hurried inside, thanking the doormen as they passed. The building's manager had been notified ahead of time and Markus had sent a small advance team to check out the building and monitor access to 6A.

"The flowers you requested arrived an hour ago," Markus informed Leo as they stepped into the elevator.

Leo had recalled that lilies were Muriel's favorite flower and had sent a bouquet with a handwritten note, apologizing and thanking her for agreeing to the meeting. He used the short ride up to the 6th floor to muster his courage and patience, prepared to flatter and grovel. And Leo crossed his fingers behind his back when the housekeeper showed him into a small yet stylish sitting room.

"I'll let Ms. Hormsby know you're here, sir, and see if she's available," the older woman said with a disdainful sniff as she left Leo.

"I see that my reputation precedes me," he murmured to Markus as he went to wait by the window.

"So does hers," Markus said and propped his shoulder against the mantle, settling in for a long wait.

The old dragon kept them in suspense for a quarter of an hour before stomping into the room, following a prissy, prancing poodle and leaning on a cane. "It's about time you turned up, von Hessen" she said, glaring as she shook her head at Leo.

"My humblest apologies, madam. As I said in my letter, I would have come sooner— years sooner—if I had been made aware," he said as he bowed and kissed her hand.

"Sooner?" She let out a belligerent grunt, echoed by the poodle as it curled up on a pink velvet cushion with her back to Leo. "All this time, I didn't know what or who had snuffed out my sweet Jonathon's light. But it was you . How could I have been so blind while we were at Sch?nbühel?"

"I believe you were investigating the butler, but I was blind as well and I made a terrible mistake when I let him go," Leo admitted sincerely. He pressed a hand over his heart. "I will do whatever it takes to make this up to him."

Muriel sniffed suspiciously, her face pinching as if she smelled something rotten. "Perhaps if you hadn't snuck around and treated my nephew like he was beneath you," she countered, stabbing Leo directly in his conscience.

"I never believed he was beneath me?—"

"Sounds like he was beneath you rather frequently, until it was time for you to be Margrave," she said and batted her obscenely long, fake lashes, daring him to deny it.

Leo recoiled at the vulgarity of the notion. And the accuracy. "That was not my intention!" he snarled, then mumbled an apology as he ducked his head. "I care very deeply for your nephew—I always have—but I was warned about his age and the possible scandal and I allowed myself to be led astray. I truly believed I was protecting Jonathon," he added quickly and pressed his hands together, pleading for her to believe him. "He had so much promise as an artist. I didn't want my life and my responsibilities as Margrave to crush his future."

"Crush his future?" she spluttered furiously as she squared up to him. "He should have been the next Whistler or maybe even as big as Warhol. I put my heart and my money into making that boy's dream come true because he was brilliant. He had an incredible gift and he finally believed that he was special and worthy of love but you snuffed it all out, your lordship. " She attempted a bow and rolled her hand dramatically before tossing him a disgusted sneer. "You had better find him and fix this or I'll take you down myself."

"Madam," Markus said pointedly, giving his head a tight shake. "There is no need to threaten Mr. von Hessen. He has ordered me to do everything in my power to find Mr. Hawthorne and I have every reason to believe that all will be forgiven once your nephew learns the truth."

Leo cleared his throat, rubbing the end of his nose with a knuckle as his temper swelled again. "It's fine, Markus." He paused, silently berating Markus for disregarding his wishes and interfering. "We will hear Ms. Hormsby out and then we will lay ourselves at her feet and hope that she forgives me for my sins against her and her nephew."

"As you wish," Markus said and bowed low in front of Muriel.

"That won't be necessary," she murmured, waving at Markus and dismissing him.

"Please, tell me why he stopped painting." Leo allowed Muriel to see how heartbroken he was and how deeply he regretted the pain he had caused. "I stayed away so Jonathon could follow his dream. I was afraid he'd end up like Ella," he explained, causing her to flinch and muffle a watery gasp.

She nodded, her lip quivering before she gave his chest a hard shove. "Well, he still did, didn't he?" Muriel barked at him. "He said he was done with painting after Sch?nbühel and refused to tell me anything except that he had moved on. He said he found a new passion and was going to express himself as an influencer," she said and pulled a face. "I thought that maybe the pressure had gotten to him, or that I had pushed him too hard. I shouldn't have accepted it so easily, but I would have done anything if it made him happy. I was so worried and weary with all the moping after Austria."

"I swear I had no idea." Leo hung his head, ashamed. "I promise, Muriel, I will make it up to Jonathon, if you will help me find him."

She glared at him for several moments before letting out a loud "Humph!" and turning for the hallway. "You had better, Lord von Hessen," she said, hurling his title at him like an insult as she stormed out, gesturing for them to follow. "Perhaps he's left a clue in his room."

Leo experienced a flash of dread when Muriel stopped and pointed at a door at the end of the short hallway, certain he was about to face more proof of Jonathon's misery. At first glance, it looked like a teenager's room, with clothing, chargers, magazines, and other odds and ends strewn about. The bed was unmade and several drawers were open with their contents spilling out.

"Where's his phone?" Markus asked her when he leaned into the room but Leo heard a stubborn grunt.

"You will not be getting that without a warrant," she informed them, making Markus roll his eyes. "You can look around in here for clues, but I won't allow you to invade his privacy by going through his phone and reading his messages. And you can't touch his laptop."

"This is more than enough," Leo stated when Markus opened his mouth to argue with her, then paused when he noticed a door frame peeking over the top of a tall bookshelf. "What's behind that? There's a door." He pointed at it and Muriel shook her head, stretching as much as she could to see.

"I have no idea. I didn't even notice it when I was in here yesterday." Her head tilted curiously. "You two, get to moving it!" Muriel ordered them with another imperious humph.

"Let me," Markus said and stepped around Leo. "It shouldn't take the two of us if Mr. Hawthorne can move it," he added under his breath, but Leo had to bite back a grin when Markus leaned and had to put his whole weight into pushing the bookshelf. "There!" he said breathlessly, once it was out of the way.

"Mr. Hawthorne is much stronger than he looks," Leo noted as he passed Markus and tried the handle. The door opened and Leo sucked in a startled breath as he stepped into the closet and saw an array of brightly colored suits and overcoats. He ignored the garish colors and patterns, filling his lungs when he recognized Jonathon's scent. "There's something in here," he said, then nodded at the short, narrow door on the back wall. "This is where he spent the most time when he was at home," Leo guessed and looked at Muriel for permission before opening the crude door. It had been covered over, judging by the holes around the frame and its ancient, yellowed paint.

And Leo knew he'd found Jonathon's secret sanctuary when he stepped inside the darkened stairwell and saw all the self portraits.

"This used to go down to the 5th floor!" Muriel waved at the stairs and banister, then gasped when she noticed what must have been hundreds of portraits. Canvases—all with Jonathon's glowing, happy face—surrounded them. "What is this?" she wondered out loud.

"They're all Mr. Hawthorne," Markus said, emerging from the narrow door and unfolding. He had to angle his upper body and crouch to pass through it.

"No…" Leo's heart sank to his feet as he turned, scanning around them. He recognized the arched windows and doorways behind Jonathon and he knew those views of the Danube. They were the same moments Leo returned to in his dreams and when he missed Jonathon the most. "That's who he used to be. That's my Jonathon, not the man we've been chasing since the gala."

"Oh, Jonathon…" Muriel placed a hand over her heart, shaking her head. "I forgot that he could laugh and smile, it's been so long. I hadn't realized how much I missed seeing him like this."

"But you encouraged all of his…stunts," Markus argued as he held up his phone. "I've studied his Instagram and it's a journal of his self-destruction and as far as I can tell, you were more than his aunt and benefactor, you were his sidekick and at times the instigator."

She used her cane to knock the phone out of Markus's hand. "At least I was there for Jonathon and he wasn't alone. I might have been clueless in Austria and I shouldn't have believed Jonathon when he said he was reinventing himself. But I've always believed in Jonathon, even when I didn't understand him, and I've done everything in my power to make him happy."

"By pushing him at every eligible bachelor in Manhattan?" Markus said sarcastically, then flinched and ducked when she raised her cane, threatening him.

"Muriel," Leo said sternly and shook his head. "I do not assault my employees and neither will you."

She made an indignant sound but lowered her cane. "I'm not going to live forever, you imbecile," she growled up at Markus. "I'm all the poor dear has ever had. His parents never cared about him so he spent most of his days in a nursery, forgotten and alone, until I sent for him. The boy barely talked when he came to me but we managed to get along nicely and he was happy until Sch?nbühel. He became so tiresome and expensive , I didn't know if anyone would want him after I was gone," she said with a forlorn sigh. "It was like my sweet boy had vanished and a hair-brained twit had taken his place. But what was I to do? I was all he had."

"You have my sincerest apologies," Leo said and swept her a low bow. "I see how much pain I have caused the both of you," he told her. "Sabine convinced me that I was doing the right thing by leaving him alone. But she's gone now and I won't stop until I find Jonathon and I will make him happy again."

"Good." She gave him a firm nod. "See that you do," she added before she turned and left them.

Markus sighed at her back, shaking his head. "This isn't entirely your fault. Sabine kept you in the dark about?—"

"Because I chose to be in the dark," Leo interrupted. "I was afraid of seeing what his life was like without me—too selfish to cope with Jonathon being happy without me—so I allowed Sabine to pull my strings. None of this would have happened if I had faced it like an adult and checked up on him myself." Leo took one last look around the abandoned stairwell before making his escape. His conscience had been battered to hell and needed a break. "Find him, Markus. Please."