Chapter Five

The last two days had passed in a blur of meetings with his father and his financial associates. Callum enjoyed being involved with the family business, working on strategies to select new investments and nurture those they had already. He'd been grateful for the distractions, but he needed to clear his head to stop the numbers dancing before his eyes. He bade the office clerk goodnight, then decided he needed some time to himself before he went home. He loved his family but it was a busy household and his attention was often demanded for even the most trifling of matters.

Callum called for his carriage and had it take him to his club, a place of solace and like-minded souls, quieter than several others of its type in the city and as such it had more select membership. A large measure of brandy later, he sat by the fire and let his mind drift to other places he had avoided. The world of his club faded away and the smell of lotus blossom carried him to a different time and place.

Osahar was in his small bedroom, tidying away the extra work he'd brought home with him to lessen the burden of tomorrow—the many rolls of papyrus now dry, he could make space for his plans for the rest of the evening. Baniti would be here soon, and he could not wait, they had made love the day before, and Baniti had promised to make love to him again. Perhaps he could ask Baniti to stay a little longer this time. But then maybe he was being presumptuous about what Baniti wanted. Osahar wasn't important, not like Baniti who was a senior priest, a favourite of the pharaoh whereas Osahar was a scribe, a good one, but no one special. Surely Baniti would lose interest in him, maybe it would be better not to let himself fall deeper into the fantasy that he could be important to Baniti, protect his heart and enjoy everything offered until the inevitable happened. He knew Baniti had had plenty of other lovers, even if he hadn't heard the stories, he would have known from his skill in ensuring Osahar's pleasure, so he could have his choice of partner from a host of options.

"I have brought you something to eat. I thought it might be nice for us to dine together."

He turned to see Baniti carrying a covered tray. The idea that Baniti had not visited with the sole purpose to slake his lust but wanted to spend time with him made Osahar very happy and gave him hope. "That is so thoughtful of you."

He cleared a space on a small table and Baniti revealed their meal—bread, beer and some ox meat. Osahar tended to eat vegetables and fish provided by the palace and could not remember when he was last blessed with meat.

"I wanted to ensure you were well-fed." Baniti ran his hand down Osahar's arm and he trembled with delight. He was still getting used to being touched in such a way, it was exhilarating and he would be glad of more of the same. "If you are willing, we could revisit our adventures of yesterday evening."

"I would like that very much." He stepped closer, lifted his face, hoping Baniti would understand what he wanted without him having to ask. He did and Osahar enjoyed the languid kiss they shared. He'd never known the touch of another, Baniti was his first, whereas he was just the most recent of the men Baniti had bedded. While it would wise not to overthink things, he already knew it was too late for that. He would do anything for Baniti, his own happiness wasn't important.

Baniti broke the kiss. "Eat first, you must keep up your strength."

They sat on cushions on the floor. Baniti pressed close to him, his hand on Osahar's thigh and there was no way he could have missed the effect it had on him or the prominent bulge in his clothes.

The hand crept further up his thigh. "Seems that you're happy I have visited."

"Very much so. You might have decided that there was someone more deserving of your time."

Baniti's eyes narrowed. "I do not play games. If I had not been interested, I would have said. And I told you I enjoyed our time together yesterday."

"It was just that you left. I wondered if I had displeased you. I am not an experienced man, maybe I had done something wrong." He had been worried all day about this, it was why he hadn't finished all his work.

Baniti cocked his head to one side, staring at him as if trying to figure something out. "You would have preferred if I had stayed? Slept by your side? Held you in my arms?"

He wondered if Baniti's other lovers had been so needy, but he did not want to lie. He dropped his gaze and wouldn't look Baniti in the eye. "Yes, on all three counts."

Baniti cupped his chin and lifted it. "You only have to ask. I did not want to overstay, and I would have remained if I had thought I was invited."

"Mr Gething?"

Callum jolted out of what he could only describe as a daydream. Standing in front of him was a member of staff carrying a silver salver on which sat another large measure of brandy and a message.

"Apologies for disturbing you, sir, but I was a little concerned when you didn't answer. I've a refresher for your drink, and a message has arrived for you."

He rubbed his eyes, not fully alert and as if he were muffled in a blanket. "What time is it?"

"A little after six, sir."

That couldn't be right, he'd been here two hours. "Are you sure?"

He took out his pocket watch and showed it to Callum. "Yes, sir."

Callum accepted the drink and the message from his father informing him his sister was under the weather and would not be attending the Allott's house for the birthday of the eldest daughter that evening. He hoped Emily was not suffering, and it was a pity as the young lady was the fiancée of one of Callum's closest friends who Emily had also known well. It was a reminder that he should make haste as it would not be proper if he were to arrive late.

He knocked back his brandy. "Can you arrange for a carriage for me to leave immediately?"

The servant nodded and glided away. Callum couldn't believe he'd lost two hours—his strange daydream must have distorted his sense of reality. The images had been so vivid. He'd been, or at least his Ancient Egyptian counterpart had been, desperate for the other man to make love to him, but also to stay and treat him as if he mattered. That Baniti had a more than passing resemblance to Dominic was not lost on him. He had no qualms about the dreams featuring two men, he'd taken the air a few times with a man, so he was not outraged or concerned by the scenario. But this felt different from the previous dream—they were the same people although it appeared this was towards the start of their relationship. Not that it made any more sense than the previous one, as there should be no reason for him to be dreaming about two men he knew nothing about. He'd shaken off the previous dream as a remnant of something he must have read but to have other chapters manifest was beyond baffling and he was left unsettled by the whole affair.

Then there was the other matter of Dominic having encountered a similar situation, and Callum couldn't make sense of any of it. He paused at the thought of Dominic. He was alluring and Callum couldn't shake the pull he had towards him. This needed to stop. He would go to the Allott's house and hope to find a distraction, even if it were only for the evening, or he was in danger of succumbing to madness. He should not be losing his head over a man he hardly knew.

He hurried outside to where a carriage waited. The London traffic was always terrible, but it took much longer than it should have to reach the property, and while he would need to apologise for his tardiness, at least he did not miss the start of dinner.

Upon arrival, he was whisked into the dining room and ushered into an empty seat. His friend Paul raised an eyebrow at his late arrival. He smiled apologetically in return and accepted a glass of excellent French wine.

"Are you Mr Gething?" asked a pretty woman seated to his right. Her dark hair and blue eyes reminded him of someone, but he couldn't recall meeting her before. The Ton had new faces join it every week, so this might be her first season.

"At your service, but I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Miss…?"

"Fairweather. Lady Christina Fairweather."

The name, matched with her looks, allowed him to draw the lines. "Are you perchance related to Dominic Fairweather?"

"He's my brother. He mentioned he had called on you. Do you have a shared interest in archaeology?"

As charming as Christina was, she didn't sway him like her brother did. He knew Dominic had at least one sister since he'd mentioned having an archaeologist for a brother-in-law, but hadn't thought much about other siblings.

"He did indeed stop by." He didn't think it proper to mention Dominic had owed him money. "Will he be joining us tonight?"

Dominic hadn't mentioned Christina, and Callum was far more interested in what Dominic might be up to than his sister.

"No, he's not long back from an overseas visit, and so is seeing a good friend of his." She smiled. "I think they were meeting at his club."

"I'm sure I will see Lord Fairweather another time." He didn't like the way she had said friend , and he realised there was nothing in her tone, but it was his own feeling of jealousy around Dominic spending his evening with another man.

"I did not realise you knew each other so well, you should come and visit."

He would be happy to visit as an acquaintance of Dominic's but not as a gentleman caller of Christina's. By rights, he should be delighted that the daughter of a duke had taken an interest in him, but his heart wasn't in courting her, and it would not be fair to encourage her to think he might be interested.

"I look forward to the invite," he said, trying to sound neutral.

Thankfully, a series of toasts distracted Christina and she was drawn into conversation with a gentleman on her other side, and he with a woman to his left who was the wife of the Earl of Wrexham. She was dressed in pearls and all her finery.

She smiled at him wryly. "I see you've attracted the attention of a young lady, if you want to keep her interested, you'd better act quick before the young Lord Osbourne steals her from under your nose."

He glanced over to Christina who was laughing in delight at something Osbourne had said. "I think he would be a better match. I'm sure the Duke of Richmond would much prefer the young gentleman in question to be involved with his daughter."

She raised an eyebrow. "And so it seems do you. Some men do not wish to marry, and having done so twice myself, I can understand. A young man with your potential could have his choice of any dance partner."

"I'm not one for dancing."

She snorted. "Mr Gething, I have six children, I assure you every man I've met likes to dance."

He laughed. "I sense we might be talking about different things."

"I don't think so. Although it is a lot easier for a man to find a match when they are older than a young lady, it is almost expected that you have earned your spurs." She reminded him of his mother.

"I would say I have yet to do so enough to make a good husband."

"A wife would do you well, having someone to come home to remind you that there is more to life than business."

He was glad to be making a reputation of his own, alongside his father's, but there would be many who thought he was not suitable despite his family's wealth. "That may be the case, but I don't see someone choosing me when they have the option of enjoying the role of countess."

"You may have a point. But there are plenty of respectable young women to choose from and your standing is as high as any captain or man of letters. I'd say better because you can afford the good silk."

She was charming and great company once the topic of his matrimonial standing had ended. He saw to his relief that Christina was content with her conversation with Osbourne, and he retained her attention into the dancing, meaning Callum did not have to find a way to avoid her.

He couldn't say he enjoyed dancing, and even less so when in his current mood. He wanted to be staring into the eyes of a beautiful man, not a woman. With his lack of concentration this evening, the only real impression he would make would be on a poor unsuspecting dance partner's feet.

He had not escaped all the offers and had apologised after the third when he decided he was done for the night and content to watch. Perhaps someone might catch his eye and help distract him for a little while. But try as he might, there was no one amongst the whirling dancers, male or female, who could shift his thoughts away from Dominic.

Paul, the friend whose fiancée's family owned the house, wandered up to him as stood watching a lively gavotte.

"Are you troubled?" Paul asked. He had a boyish face, pink from his exploits on the dancefloor. "You're standing here like the penniless daughter of a vicar with no potential suitors."

He laughed. "You're an uncouth arse this evening. It's a wonder Jane wishes to wed you."

"Because she is an angel, and I am blessed." Paul nudged him with an elbow. They'd been friends since school, and Paul knew him as well as he did himself some days, meaning they'd no secrets from each other. "Come on. What's wrong?"

"I am preoccupied. You will think me mad if I told you why."

Paul knew he was not the type to make mountains from molehills. "Let us find somewhere quiet to talk over a glass of brandy."

"I do not wish to take you away from your good lady. My woes will keep."

Paul squeezed his shoulder. "Nonsense, you are saving me from small talk about wedding attire and how I must be keen to start a family."

Callum fell into step with Paul, and he led them to a small sitting room where he poured them two measures of brandy.

"You've made yourself at home at your future in-laws' house," Callum said, taking a seat and accepting the drink.

"When you rescue a man's daughter from the clutches of a scoundrel, they tend to be grateful."

He laughed. That was not the version of events he was aware of. "Since when was Trevor Beddows the scourge of women?"

"I didn't say Jane's father was right in his assumption, just what he believes. But I am not racing to correct him." Paul chuckled as he sat. "Now less of my situation and more of why you're being aloof."

"I would say confused, rather than aloof, but you'll doubt my sanity either way."

"Then I shall recommend you a doctor, but I will not let this lie. I've known you over twenty years, seen you enjoy a delightful selection of many offerings, in states no parent would wish to see their son, and escape from scrapes of great absurdity, nothing will surprise me." He smirked. "Unless you are about to become a monk."

"I am not about to get me to a monastery, but I fear I am smitten."

"Hardly a great malaise of the cranium. It happens to the best of us."

If only that were the half of it. "It is partly with whom I am smitten and a connection between us which is beyond fanciful."

Paul rolled his eyes, and Callum knew he sounded as if he were making a great deal out of nothing. "Who is it?"

"Dominic Fairweather."

"A pretty fellow, and well in line with the tastes you've demonstrated before. He's a decent man from what I know but I had heard he had a special friendship with Henry Wellin, although that became less friendly of late."

The thought of Dominic with this Henry fellow gave his stomach a nasty twinge. "I wasn't aware he was attached to anyone."

"I don't think he is, they are not as close as they were, but I don't think Dominic is the type to attach to anyone for long, so I can only see an issue with your infatuation if you thought it might be anything but a pleasant dalliance."

Callum wrinkled his nose. "I don't know what it is, I've never had this sense of need for someone before, and while I've had urges to bed someone, they've not been like this."

"Somehow, I don't think he would be averse to helping you get him out of his system. Which is what it sounds to me that you need to do."

He'd never played around with Paul. He'd been a good friend but never a lover or a moment's distraction—Paul's tastes were solely for women.

"Perhaps, but I'm not sure that's the case. I've been having some strange dreams."

Paul cocked his head to one side. "You've had strange dreams before, have you been dabbling again?"

He was referring to a summer a few years ago when Callum had hurt his back and had been given laudanum for the pain. He'd taken the tincture a tad too long and had stopped when he'd been unable to function and had come to the stark realisation it was the drug that was causing his problems. "If it were the case then I'd have chalked them up to that and never touched the stuff again, but it's not. I've not taken anything of its kind in years, I don't like what it does to my thoughts."

"Then what are these strange dreams? We might be able to find a source if you're forthcoming about their content."

Callum knew Paul wouldn't let it drop and he knew him too well to be fobbed off with a half-truth. "It's not just the content but how vivid they are, and as well as the one I had last night, I had what I could best describe as a vision in my gentleman's club this afternoon."

Paul frowned. "You have been working hard, your mind might be trying to give you some escapism. Tell me, are they spicy dreams about you and the dashing Dominic?"

He puffed out his cheeks. "Not about Dominic but someone in the dream. It is as if I am transported back to Ancient Egypt, I am a young scribe called Osahar and I have a lover called Baniti."

"Oh, not what I had expected. So how does Dominic factor into this, does this Baniti look like him?"

"There is a resemblance, but not as if I have transplanted him directly. The strange thing is, Dominic also had a dream of a similar nature, and while I don't know the intimate details of what he experienced, it feels too much like a coincidence."

Paul scoffed. "It must be a coincidence, what else could it be, magic?"

"I suppose when you put it like that, I have been letting my imagination run away with me." And perhaps his libido.

"You've had your head turned by Dominic, not unsurprising given your tastes, and you've been too busy slaving at your desk to take care of other aspects of your life. These dreams are about a topic that is in every newspaper at the moment, and you've even attended lectures from visiting archaeologists. Every other day there's more exciting news of finds being dug out of the desert, your subconscious had transported yourself and your desires to centre stage."

"That could answer why I'm having the dreams, but not why Dominic is."

"Have you considered that the attraction is not one-way, and you are both picking up on the other's interest?"

Paul was a rational man, and Callum thought the idea had merit, but there seemed to be more to it and Paul would not be open-minded enough to discuss it further. The explanation might be feasible if they'd been pining for each other for several weeks but he had only met Dominic the day before. He'd be happy to think Dominic might be willing to explore an understanding between them, and Callum knew he was an attractive enough fellow to catch the eye of a suitor, even if not to keep one.

"I suppose it is a potential answer."

"The real question, is what are you going to do about it?" Paul said, swirling his brandy. "You're not the type to rest on your laurels."

"I will invite him for supper. Soon." He knocked back the rest of his drink. "But for tonight you should return to your fiancée, and I will avoid dancing with Dominic's sister."

Paul chuckled as he stood. "Christina is a lovely girl, but best not to play with family members. Besides, I think Osbourne is not likely to let you. He's been moping after her for some time."

He followed Paul back downstairs and while Paul went off to find his good lady, Callum hesitated about returning to the dancing. His skin tingled and the scent of lotus flowers drifted under his nose, but he couldn't see a source. He needed to leave, clear his head and maybe after a walk, he would be able to think a little straighter.