Chapter 9

Ambrose

Ambrose arrived in Oxford late morning the following day. His first stop was the Old Bank on the High Street, where he made quick work of depositing the funds he had brought with him and collecting a written receipt. Once that important task was done, he headed to the earl's townhouse on St Michael's Street. Upon his knock, the door was opened by the aged butler, Briggs, whose wife was also the housekeeper.

"Good day, Briggs," smiled Ambrose, depositing his small travel case on the floor while he divested himself of his coat and hat.

"Good day, sir," replied Briggs, taking his hat and coat from him. "It is good to see you."

"Likewise, Briggs. I hope you and Mrs Briggs have been keeping well."

"Must not complain, sir," said the old retainer.

Ambrose picked up his travel case before Briggs, whose elderly joints could ill support such a task, could take it upstairs for him. He headed towards the staircase, saying, "I shall go to wash and come right down, but could you please ask Mrs Briggs to prepare a light luncheon for me?"

"As to that, sir," said the butler ponderously, "I have been informed by Mrs Forbes that she expects you for luncheon. I will send word to her now that you have arrived."

Ambrose beamed. "Even better! Please tell her to expect me in the next fifteen minutes."

"Very well, sir."

Ambrose climbed nimbly up the stairs to the room that had been his ever since the earl provided him and Sarah with lodgings here, all of eight years ago, while he attended the university. He made quick work of washing his face and hands, then neatly re-arranging his hair. He abhorred the unkept, windswept look and took pride in his tidy appearance. On his dressing table was an old bottle of cologne, scented with bergamot, orange and a touch of cinnamon. Ambrose dabbed a few drops of it to his throat. Then, with one last glance at his appearance, he exited the room and made his way back down the stairs.

He did not bother with a coat and hat, for Lexie lived right next door. With a nod of acknowledgement towards Briggs, he opened the front door and walked the few steps to the next house, then rang the doorbell. No sooner had the footman let him in than Lexie came flying down the stairs toward him. As always upon seeing her, he felt a warmth soothe his soul. Alexandra Forbes, estranged wife of William Forbes, a fellow student with him from his Oxford days, was one of his favourite people on this earth, apart from Sarah.

"Finally, you're here," she said breathlessly, holding out her hands.

He took both her outstretched hands in his and smiled down at her. "Finally, here I am," he repeated. Mindful of the servants, he led her to the drawing room and shut the door behind them. Next moment, Lexie was in his arms and he was kissing her sweet lips. It was a loving kiss, more affectionate than passionate. Truthfully, no woman had ever excited passion in him, nothing like the eruption of desire he had felt on seeing Daniel that first time—but no, he would not let his mind wander there. He brought himself back to the present, breathing in Lexie's familiar floral scent and raining kisses along the soft skin of her throat.

She shivered in his arms, and he held her closer. It had been too long, one whole month, since he had last held her. This was how it was between them—how it had been for seven years now—a shared night or two of loving once every month, to coincide with his business trips to Oxford. And though theirs might not have been a passionate union, it was one that sustained him in many ways, giving him the affection he craved, true friendship and the opportunity to, at least partially, slake his lustful urges.

Eventually, he pulled back and gazed into Lexie's soft brown eyes. "You look beautiful, darling," he said, and meant his words. Lexie might not have been a conventional beauty, but her rosy face was graced by an intelligence in her regard coupled with abundant kindness, and it had gained in beauty the more he knew her. Hers was a dear face indeed.

She huffed. "Flatterer!" Inspecting his face closely, she brought a hand to the golden stubble along his jaw. "You are growing whiskers," she stated.

"Do you like it?"

She cocked her head to one side. "Yes, I do. You look all golden and god-like," she teased.

"Now who's the flatterer?" he laughed. They drew apart and went to sit next to each other on the settee, her small hand clasped in his.

"How long can you stay?" she asked.

"Just for this night, I'm afraid," he replied apologetically. "The earl is getting increasingly frail, and I do not like to be away for long. I believe it is only a matter of time now until the end."

She rested her chin on his shoulder and sighed, "Poor man. Under the arrogance and imperiousness, there beats in him a good heart."

"Yes. I shall miss him when he is gone."

"But at least he now has his family gathered around him," Lexie pointed out. "What are they like?"

Ambrose's thoughts jumped to Daniel. Damn that man! He contented himself with saying, "Let us talk of it over our luncheon. I still have errands to complete and must get to the shops before they close for the day."

A short while later, they reconvened to the dining room and began their meal. "So, now will you tell me about the Stantons?" urged Lexie.

Having had time to compose his thoughts, Ambrose regaled her with descriptions of the viscount, his brother and their wives. He glossed over their offspring, with a quick mention of the younger Stantons' names and ages, but nothing more. She listened attentively, asking the occasional question. Finally, she rested her cheek on her hand thoughtfully and said, "It augurs well for you, I think. The viscount sounds like a sensible man of principle. However, I do wonder at how he will manage once he inherits from the earl, with having two large estates, one in England and the other in America."

"I have wondered about it too," mused Ambrose. "From what I have seen of him, I do not believe he would turn his back on the estate he built from scratch in America to come live permanently in England again." He put down his cutlery and dabbed his lips with the napkin. "I can only conclude," he went on, "that he will correspond with me on the regular and make it his business to visit England once a year or so to look in on his estates. It will entail greater responsibility, if he is willing to entrust me with it."

"I do not see why he would not," reassured Lexie. She pondered the matter further. "Although he could delegate one of his sons to oversee the English estates on his behalf. Are they not grown men?"

Ambrose was suddenly troubled. No, the viscount would not do that! Or would he? Ambrose feared that if he spent much more time with Daniel, he might succumb to his unwelcome desires, but he was banking on him leaving soon to return to America. How on earth was he to cope with having the man so near him? And on what basis? As his de facto employer? That could not be borne.

Lexie sensed his unease. "Darling, what is it?"

He shook his head. "It is nothing really, but I would infinitely prefer to deal with the viscount than his sons."

"Spoiled and entitled are they?" guessed Lexie. "I know the type well. I am married to one after all." It would be fair to say that Lexie and William Forbes's marriage was not a happy one. William had spent his adult life seducing anything in a skirt, but the chicken had come home to roost when one of his seductions resulted in an unwanted pregnancy and then a hurried marriage to Lexie. No sooner had she given birth to their son, Edwin, than William had considered his duty done and decamped to London to live the bachelor life, rarely if ever returning to visit his wife or son.

It was during her first lonely year as an abandoned wife that Lexie had struck up a friendship with her neighbours, Ambrose and his sister, Sarah. Then, in the final months of that year, one tipsy night, she had kissed Ambrose in a fit of desolation, and he had cautiously kissed her back. She had taken him to her bed then, and he had gone along with it, never having made love to a woman before and wanting to prove that he was man enough to do so, despite the worrying desire he experienced for other men.

It had gone well enough. Lexie had been a thoughtful and considerate lover, tending to his needs as well as hers. It had been pleasant to be touched and to touch naked flesh, to commune with a person he cared deeply about, and he had achieved a pleasurable release as he buried his cock in her tight, wet heat.

Over the years of their affair, their emotions had blossomed into a gently tender and enduring love. Ambrose's prowess in the bedroom had improved, and they had both found comfort and relief in the physical act of love. They had found a way to be together a few nights every month, the proximity of their houses making it easy to conduct their affair with discretion. At night, Ambrose would slip out through the back door of the earl's house into the gardens beyond and enter Lexie's house, the door conveniently left unlocked for him. Once their bodies had been sated, they often talked late into the night, their heads close together on the pillow, before Ambrose roused himself to return to his house.

In that time, Ambrose never had thoughts of courting any other woman. His relationship with Lexie suited him very well. He lived comfortably with his sister, had a job he enjoyed and that paid well enough, and when the itch for physical release came upon him, he could find comfort in Lexie's arms. They wrote to each other often, sharing thoughts, worries and moments of joy. More importantly, Lexie helped to keep the troublesome feelings he had for males at bay. When he was with her, he could convince himself that he was not one of those men society decried, not one of those sodomites—the memory of what had happened to John still fresh in his mind. Ambrose had carefully constructed this life, was contented with it, and now a young pup by the name of Daniel Stanton was putting it all at risk.

Lexie regarded him curiously, seeing him lost in thought. "Ambrose, where did you go?" she wanted to know.

With an effort, Ambrose shook off the vision of Daniel that kept intruding on his mind. He was accustomed to honesty with Lexie, so he told her some of what concerned him. "The viscount's eldest son, Daniel, accompanied me on my visits to the tenant farms last week and is very interested in learning about the workings of the estate."

Lexie nodded her head encouragingly. "That is good, surely."

"I found him very forward in his manner. It was… most disconcerting."

There was a pause as Lexie digested this information. "Perhaps it is to do with different customs he is used to," she ventured. "I am sure he does not mean to offend by it."

"No, I am sure he does not," admitted Ambrose, "yet I find myself ill at ease around him."

"You have been used to the earl's stiff formality all these years," suggested Lexie, "so it is natural that you are finding this change of approach discomfiting. Give it time and perhaps you will become accustomed to the forwardness of this American."

Ambrose leaned forward and pressed Lexie's hand. "Thank you, darling," he said fondly. "You always abound with good sense. Now, I must excuse myself and go do my errands."

"Come over once you are done. I know Edwin is very excited to see you," said Lexie.

"I have brought a Christmas gift for him—and one for you too," smiled Ambrose. "I will bring them round later." He stood and kissed the top of her head. "Now I must go. Goodbye, darling."

Much later that night, Ambrose gently disengaged himself from Lexie's sleeping form. They had made quick, urgent love upon first getting into bed, as was usual after a long absence, then they had talked and made leisurely love again. Shortly after, Lexie had drifted off to sleep, and feeling slumber begin to take hold of him, Ambrose forced himself to rise. It would not do to be discovered by the servants or by Edwin when morning came.

He reached over for his discarded nightshirt and robe, quickly putting them on. Then, he bent down and kissed Lexie gently on her brow before retreating silently from her room. He tiptoed in the dark, well acquainted with the layout of the house, then let himself out through the back door and made his way to his own bed in the house next door. Next morning, he completed his remaining errands then set off for Stanton Hall, arriving back in the early afternoon in a contented mood. Surely his time with Lexie would remove any feelings of attraction he might have felt for Daniel.