Chapter Seven

L ord Rex, Duke of Smythington

Lifting my hand to shade my eyes against the early morning sunshine reflecting off the Thames, I walked into the boathouse where several skiffs were kept in racks along the wooden walls. Two men stood by a two-man rowboat tied to the end of the dock. The familiar faces of Flynn and another man who took care of our equipment greeted me with a smile. Flynn and I had been on the rowing team at Oxford, and we and our mates met most mornings.

"Good morning," Flynn said. He was a bit taller than me and broader built. He wore an outfit similar to mine, a brown coat and white canvas trousers. He'd been noticeably absent since my anniversary dinner but he had returned for the proposal. Nigel and Flynn were very close.

The lines around his eyes crinkled when he smiled, highlighting his warm brown eyes. I averted my own, trying to push the thoughts out of my head that had been crowding there of late. I didn't want to feel this again. He was my friend, and I couldn't avoid him. I needed to deal with my suppressed desires.

"Good morning. I am glad to see you back," I replied. Summer had set in early, and I was looking forward to Parliament letting out so I could retire to my estate. Once within its familiar walls, I hoped to get my mind back on track. Everything was changing, and I wasn't sure if I liked it. "The water looks very calm this morning."

"Yes, perfect rowing conditions." Flynn climbed into the narrow two-man boat, the vessel rocking back and forth from his weight. "I'm afraid it's only us this morning. Fitzroy sent a message around canceling, and I'm sure you know why Nigel isn't here."

I nodded and picked up the oars that were perched on the dock. Flynn followed my lead, settling himself in the seat in front of me. He gripped his oars, the blade hovering above the water in preparation for our outing. The water rippled under the boat from his weight.

"He is most certainly gearing up for our interview tomorrow."

Flynn turned to look at me over his shoulder, his grin wide. "Are you ready?"

"To row or for my daughter to get married?" I didn't want to notice his smile or the way his eyes sparkled with an inner light. He was a man, and I was a man, yet I couldn't help wondering what it would be like to kiss him again.

"Both." Flynn continued to look at me, his gaze falling to my mouth for a brief second.

A lustful spark ignited in my blood and I gripped the handles until my knuckles were white. Was he thinking about that night we spent together after I learned of my father's death? I had tucked it into the back of my mind with no intention of revitalizing our encounter. My vows to Eleanor were sacred, yet I couldn't help recalling the raw passion my intimacies with Flynn had evoked.

"Shall we start? I had to move my schedule around for Nigel's appointment on Thursday, so I am scrambling to fit two afternoons into one. Unfortunately, I had no other availability until next week and the children don't wish to wait to be married." My words came out in a rush, and I stared off into the horizon to avoid his gaze. Like us, this was a popular spot for rowing clubs to use. There were at least six other boats on the water besides us. When we were on the rowing team at Oxford, Flynn was the stroke. For the good of the team, we worked together in tandem.

In unison, we began to row. With his handsome face and form, people tended to gravitate toward him. Of the two of us, Flynn was the more commanding person. It came naturally to him. Not to me. I had learned over the years to be more aggressive simply because it was required of me. But I tried to treat everyone around me with respect. Leading well wasn't about being the strongest. It was about being the most adaptable.

"If you wish." Flynn turned back around, giving me some relief from my mad thoughts.

The oarlocks creaked as the surface of the blade touched the water. Flynn counted off until we developed a rhythm. Usually, mornings were my favorite time of the day. Today, I was having a hard time enjoying myself.

"Nigel is very nervous about the proposal, which I find ironic since the contracts were all but completed last month," Flynn said.

"In their minds, this makes the proposal more romantic." I couldn't think of a better man for my daughter to marry. "She tells me they would like to get married fairly quickly."

"Are you opposed to that?" Flynn asked, pulling smoothly on his oars.

"No, it just feels sudden, even though we know it's not sudden. They have been sweet on each other for many years."

"Indeed they have. How has Eleanor taken all this in? I assume she's very excited about planning a wedding."

"She was crying, which is not unusual, but she was hiding a letter from me and was rather secretive about it. She said it was an invitation, but who writes a letter inviting someone somewhere when a simple card will do?" As soon as the words crossed my lips, I wished I could take them back. However, Flynn was my best friend, and I needed a friendly ear to listen to my concerns.

Flynn turned his head for a brief second, his brow furrowed. "It does sound suspect, or it could simply be a very long-winded invitation."

"Perhaps I am overreacting. However, she's been different lately. It's almost like I don't know her anymore." Once the words were out, the situation started to clarify in my mind. "I'm concerned she, well, I'm concerned she might not love me anymore."

When I had kissed her on the forehead the previous morning in a sign of affection, she'd stiffened, glaring at me after the fact. Then, there was the matter of the letter she hid from me, coupled with her speaking of the waiter at the Stratham with marked familiarity. It was a stab to my heart every time I thought about it. The spark in our marriage had dimmed. That was to be expected over time, but the complete void of emotional connection had blindsided me.

"Do you think she is having an affair?" Flynn asked, stopping his rowing and twisting in his seat to look at me.

"I don't know." She had hidden that letter awfully fast, and tried to move Nigel's interview for some undisclosed reason. "I never pegged her for the type."

"I considered finding a mistress after Mary died." The shoulders of his coat strained on his forward motions and loosened upon retraction as he resumed rowing. He kept his head forward, his entire body moving in rhythm with my movements. Many men of our station had mistresses.

"I have never felt the need to seek out anyone save Eleanor." I had refrained because she was the only one I wanted to be with. Other desires occupied the forefront of my mind. And those desires had started with Flynn. "I am beginning to question her happiness with the status quo." And my own. The effort of the row made my voice breathier than I liked. "The distance between us seems to be widening and I am unsure what to do."

The ebb and flow of each stroke played across every muscle, stretching my arms and torso before my thighs were in play once more. I was glad we were having this conversation on the water so I could use the motion to soothe my jangled nerves.

"You looked rather enamored of each other during your anniversary party." The wind whipped at his hair, the tips of his ears red from the coolness of the morning.

"That was a good night for us. However, I, well, Eleanor is rather traditional, and lately, our coupling has been rather, well, mundane..." I didn't know if continuing was wise, but I needed to get my thoughts out. My wife had set a precedent on our wedding night that had guided us for twenty years. "She is my wife, not a doxy. Therefore, I don't wish to make demands on her she isn't comfortable with."

"Do the two of you still share a bed?" he asked.

Another shell passed us. The eight members were part of a competing rowing club. With a nod at them, I continued to keep pace.

We had gone against convention and shared a bedroom since Harry was born. After so many years, I was used to falling asleep and waking up next to Eleanor. Most nights, it was comforting. At other times, there seemed to be an invisible wall between us. "Yes, we have since Harry was small. He had nightmares, well, he still does, and he gets agitated if he has to choose between us."

"That, unto itself, must pose a problem if you wish to bed her." He continued to row with steady strokes. "Have you talked to her about changing things up?"

"I haven't broached it recently." A cool wind whipped the water, causing waves to lap on the hull.

"Recently, or not in twenty years?"

The flush on my cheeks had nothing to do with rowing. I adjusted my legs, the muscles of my thighs protesting. "The latter."

"I see." The two words said it all.

"The truth is, I don't know how to broach the subject again." Frustration over my own cowardice shamed me.

"Be honest with her. Everything you told me today could be resolved in a conversation." He shrugged, his wise words rolling around in my mind.

"That is easier said than accomplished. I used to be able to talk to her about anything. Lately, she's shut herself off. I don't know how to get to her."

"Would you like me to speak to her?"

I snorted and leaned forward to wipe my dripping brow against my sleeve. "And be slapped for my insolence? I don't think so."

Flynn chuckled. "It would certainly liven things up in your marriage bed."

"I hardly think that is the direction I am leaning. I simply wish her to shed her inhibitions and try something less conventional."

"Like a ménage la trois?" Flynn asked.

"You think I should introduce another woman into her bed?" I scoffed at his teasing remark. "If I wanted to be with another woman, I could find a mistress." I wanted to be with my wife. Naked. In bed, touching every inch of her, rather than wrestling with clothing that limited access to her soft curves under the cover of darkness. "Have you had such an arrangement?"

"I have, and it was rather pleasant, I might add. You and Eleanor might find it quite liberating."

"If I considered it, which I am not, I wouldn't even know where to begin." The air whipping up from the water turned frigid and felt good on my heated skin. Eleanor would have my head if I even mentioned the idea.

"It is quite easy. Find the third person to join you and make a proposition."

"I can't even talk to my wife about touching her breasts without her gown on. How would I ever talk her into having relations with another woman?" I had never thought of myself as a failure or weak of character, yet I could hear the decided whine in my voice. When had I become helpless?

"It doesn't have to be a woman." He angled his head and inspected me for a long moment.

A splash of water from his oars hit my hands. My skin broke out in goosebumps at his words, my heart racing and not from exercising. Our night in Oxford came to the forefront of my mind. The only sounds were the water lapping against the boat's hull, and the steady creaking of the oars. Sunshine continued to warm my cheeks, and confusion muddled my mind. Certainly, he wasn't suggesting what I thought he was suggesting, the three of us having a ménage a trio. "Regardless of the sex of the third party, Eleanor would never be open to such a bold suggestion."

"Hypothetically speaking, would you agree if she were open to such an arrangement?" He turned the boat back the way we'd come. Tension exuded from him, and I studied the back of his head, wishing I could read his expression.

His question disturbed me on many levels. Could Flynn be the one having an affair with Eleanor? It was a man's bold handwriting I'd glimpsed before Eleanor hid the vellum. My pulse was racing so hard it was difficult to hear more than the pounding in my ears. I had never doubted her fidelity to me or Flynn's loyalty to our friendship. Perhaps I was simply being na?ve. They spent hours together playing music, and I never questioned their arrangement. "Are you and she having an affair?"

"That is most insulting. I would never cuckold you like that, nor have Eleanor and I ever even discussed having an affair." Flynn stopped rowing, and I followed his lead, needing to discover the truth without distraction. He twisted on his seat to face me, his dark eyes blazing with fury. "I was simply putting the suggestion of a ménage out there. What made you assume I was talking about myself?"

Tense silence rested between us, my mind spinning with what I wanted to say. He had every right to be angry at my accusation, yet jealousy seemed to have grabbed hold of my mind. It was unfair to blame him for something I wasn't sure of. "Because of what happened at Oxford. It seemed a logical conclusion given our history."

"I won't lie and say the memory of that night hasn't crossed my mind of late. Since your anniversary party, I can't seem to leave the past in the past." The anger faded from his face, and he nodded, regret and sadness mingling in his downturned mouth. He turned back around and steered the boat toward the dock. "Time seems to be running at an accelerated rate."

"I understand." Everything was changing in our worlds. I stared at his dark hair blowing in the wind. Many moons ago, I sank my fingers into his hair while he sucked my cock. It was the first time someone other than myself had touched me so intimately. I became aroused simply reliving the memory. "It seems like yesterday the twins were born and now Anne will be engaged soon. Just because the children are embarking on their own lives doesn't mean ours is ended."

"Very true," he said. "If the passion between you has been lost, perhaps something new would ignite it once more. When was the last time you took Eleanor on holiday?"

"It has been too long." The dock was in sight and we stopped rowing, allowing the boat's momentum to propel us forward. The thought of being with my wife was comforting. Comfort and passion were two different things. With Flynn, I would be doing things I'd once done many years ago. It had been enjoyable touching him and having him touch me. Would the experience be the same, or had I built it up in my head? "Hypothetically speaking, if I did consider such an arrangement, you would be the logical choice."

Eleanor would be appalled, or I assume she would anyway. She was traditional in many ways, and it had taken years for her to express her needs. As a lady, she had been told by her parents to follow her husband's lead and not explore her desires. What Flynn was proposing would be very outrageous, and I wasn't even sure what the logistics would be. The very thought of Flynn and me together with Eleanor made my cock rise to the occasion. I couldn't fathom we were having this conversation, yet we were.

"I am not sure if it would be good for our friendship," he said.

"Or my marriage. She might scorn us for our peculiarities." I hadn't followed through with my latent desires because I would never betray Eleanor like that. I was a conformist at heart and often dismissed my personal needs for the greater good.

He shrugged. "She might or she might not."

"If you can gain her concession, I wouldn't be averse." I was sure I did, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see where this would lead. My practical side said to agree simply to put the conversation to rest. Eleanor would never agree therefore it was safe to say yes.

"Me? Why do I have to gain her concession?" He snapped his head around, amusement quirking his lips. "Wait, I know why. If she is appalled, you can claim innocence and she will scorn me."

I grinned. "Exactly. She already thinks you are a degenerate. You might as well live up to your reputation." Encouraging Flynn might be the most foolish thing I ever did, but I tended to be overly cautious. My life was boring, and I needed some excitement. I sensed Eleanor was bored as well. Flynn always excited me with his enthusiasm. If she said no, I would tuck this idea into the back of my mind and never follow through. I loved and admired Flynn as my friend. Eleanor was my everything.