Chapter 1

Collin strode across the late-regency-era stableyard to where his old school chum and friend, George, waited in the archway that led out to the rolling green of his estate. George was the master of all he surveyed, and Collin envied him. He wasn’t jealous —no mean, backstabbing green-eyed monster—but he wished he was as happy as George.

“I love this view,” George said just as his partner and soon-to-be husband burst out of the tree line and raced like the wind across the land, long hair bouncing with each stride of his horse. The envy strengthened as Alan continued his ride, back straight, head up and forward, like he was meant to control the beast he rode and anything or anyone who crossed his path.

“What’s not to love?” Collin agreed, his gaze following Alan as he made a turn, the horse slowing as they approached. Alan’s eyes were wide, his mouth split in a grin. He looked completely out of place surrounded by the other riders in English riding boots, leggings, and helmets. Alan wore jeans and chaps, a flannel shirt, and tooled cowboy boots that were unlike anyone else’s in the area. The truth of it was that Alan was unlike anyone Collin had ever met. He was 100 percent his own man and he didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, and that made him all the more attractive.

Of course, Collin would never give serious consideration to his fascination with the stunning cowboy. Collin didn’t poach, and certainly not from a close friend.

Besides, Alan only had eyes for George.

Alan dismounted the black horse before bounding over and encircling George in his long arms, hugging him hard. It was a very un-English thing to do, and a very Alan spectacle that reminded Collin just how alone he was. The truth was, he wanted someone who would love him as much as Alan clearly adored George. There was no disguising that love, and Alan didn’t try. The love the cowboy had for his duke was apparent to everyone who saw them together for more than ten seconds.

“The horse, how is he?” Collin asked, hoping his voice didn’t break.

Alan backed away, still smiling as he handed the reins to Collin. “I have no idea what your father is thinking,” he answered, his gaze suddenly all business. “He really wants to sell?”

Collin sighed and nodded. “He says he’ll never work for polo, and that’s what he wanted him for. Not that Jester here is actually his horse. He’s mine, officially, but the stable is my father’s, so….” Sometimes Collin wished his sire, the Earl of Doddington, would simply stop being a complete controlling wanker.

“He’s a fool, and so are you if you sell him,” Alan said. “This boy was born to run. It’s in his blood, even if it’s not in his bloodline. It’s what he wants. So if you don’t want to sell him, then we’ll make a place for him here and we can put him into training as a racer with Centauri. He has the drive and the strength. You saw him; he went like the wind. And let me tell you, he didn’t want to stop.” Alan was dead serious.

“It would get under the old man’s skin if I actually raced him and won.” The thought delighted him.

Alan chuckled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, but I’d say he definitely has potential.”

Glenn, one of the horse wranglers, approached and spoke with Alan briefly before leading Jester away.

“He’ll take good care of him.”

“Thank you,” Collin said. “I knew you’d have some sort of answer. I didn’t want to sell him. He was a gift from my uncle.”

Alan nodded as though he knew the story. Collin’s mother’s brother, Uncle Reginald, had given him Jester as a colt two years ago. Reginald died of cancer two months later. Collin’s father had hated Uncle Reginald with a passion, though Collin had no idea why, so it didn’t take much thought to determine why his father wanted Jester gone. Alan usually tried to keep him out of Collin’s father’s sight.

“We understand,” George said. “Come on. It’s getting cold, and with this constant drizzle, I could use something hot.” Alan bumped his hip. “To drink ,” George emphasized wickedly. “Come on. Let’s go in.” He led the way to the Rover, and Alan got behind the wheel. Collin braced himself, because every time George let Alan drive, Collin wondered if he was going to remember to use the left side of the road. Alan had a tendency to take his half out of the middle. It was fine on the estate, because everyone watched out for him, but on the roads….

“Don’t worry. I’ve got driving on the wrong side the road down now,” Alan quipped.

“Sure you do, big guy,” Collin teased, and Alan turned to flash him a grin before starting the engine and driving sedately—on the correct side the road—all the way up to the great house. He parked the car, and they went in the private entrance and through to the family apartments, which were closed to the touring public.

“The estate is open today,” Alan explained. “George will go down at some point to say hello.” He closed the door, his boots clomping on the stone floor until he took them off. They climbed the familiar stairs to a comfortable sitting room in the south wing on the second floor.

“What can I get you?” Alan asked. “I can call down for coffee or tea.”

“That would be nice,” Collin said. He didn’t feel like anything stronger. Alan sent a text message before sitting down. “Thank you for looking at Jester.”

Alan grinned. “Are you kidding? I’m going to work with him myself. I’ve wanted a horse with his unbridled need for speed.” He actually rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be great.”

George shook his head. “Would you go on down and get the tea? The staff are probably overwhelmed with the guests in the house. I could also use some biscuits and maybe a scone with my tea.”

“All right.” Alan jumped back up and gave George a kiss before leaving the room.

“You can sure tell he wasn’t raised English,” Collin said.

“No. He’s brash and bold and—”

“Totally amazing. Don’t get me wrong for a second. I like that about him. He knows what he wants, and he goes for it without pretense or the need to parse the meaning from what he isn’t saying.” Collin sighed. “It makes Alan pretty special.”

George leaned forward. “When they made Alan, they broke the mold.” He smiled happily.

“I can tell. But I’m so tired of dating guys who find out I have a title and decide to see what they can get.”

George laughed. “Like Berty?”

“You had to bring him up, didn’t you?” Collin said. “I thought he was a nice guy….”

“Until you found out about his wife, two kids, and house in Leeds.” George was having way too much fun.

“And let’s not forget the two dogs.” He shook his head. “And that’s not the worst. The last man I got serious with was into latex and everything that goes with it. Now, I’m fine with whatever kink turns someone on, but don’t wait until I’m naked, waiting for a guy to join me, only for him to come out in head-to-toe body latex to spring it on me.” He closed his eyes. “I want a real man and not someone who knows me as the Viscount Haferton or the heir to the Earl of Doddington. All I get then are fakes and suck-ups.”

“That can happen. But there are solid men out there too.”

“I know. They just don’t seem to cross my path.”

“Then come to America with George and me,” Alan said as he strode into the room with a tray. He set it on the table and sat back down. “He and I are going back to see my family for a few weeks. Mom needs some help, and I want to spend a little time at home. Mom is getting married in a few months and there’s a lot for her to do, but Claude, her fiancé, is going to be traveling on business. I can introduce you around town as a friend from England. No one needs to know your title, and frankly, most people there don’t care about that sort of thing. They measure a man by his actions.” Alan slipped an arm around George. “That’s what drew me to him. He’s a good man.”

“It just took you some time to see it,” George added. “And yeah, you should come with us. We leave in two weeks, so there’s time to get a plane ticket.”

“There’s room at the ranch,” Alan said, “but it’s a working spread.”

“Collin works hard—always has,” George said.

“I’ve been around horses and livestock all my life,” Collin told Alan, excited at the prospect of getting away for a while.

Alan leaned forward. “What is your father going to say about you leaving with us for a few weeks?” It was common knowledge that though Collin was close friends with George and Alan, his father didn’t like either of them. George and Alan had moved their estate forward and were on the road to profitability, while Collin’s father insisted on doing things the way they had been done for years. Fortunately the family had more resources than their land holdings. But Collin’s father hadn’t kept up with things the way he should have, and the fact that George and Alan had their home set up as a showpiece with a garden restoration in progress and more and more tourists paying them a visit, well, it galled him. In Collin’s opinion, his dad wasn’t especially ambitious and spent his time being jealous of others rather than doing something to improve his lot. “You know he’s going to be as stubborn as a mule.”

“Then I’ll have to deal with him.”

Alan poured George and Collin each a cup of tea and then some coffee for himself. For a Yank, Alan made a nice cup of tea. As he sipped it, Collin tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do about dear old Dad.

“You aren’t going anywhere. I need you here looking after our horses instead of running off on some holiday with the duke,” Collin’s father declared his study. He had a book in one hand and a glass of whisky in the other, which would have been fine if it hadn’t been two in the afternoon when everyone else was working. Not Dad. He thought of himself as a man of leisure. More like a lazy ass, in Collin’s opinion, which he kept to himself.

“I haven’t had any time away from the estate in years. I work hard, and you know it.” Harder than his father, but Collin held his tongue. “I have money of my own. I’m not asking you to pay for anything.” That was something else his father didn’t like. When his mother had passed two years ago, she had left everything—no inconsiderable amount—to Collin. His father had been trying to get his hands on it for some time, but Collin and his solicitor had the money tied up tight and well away from his father. “I’m an adult, and I don’t need your permission to go.”

His father set his book aside, and the whisky in his glass sloshed as he sat forward. “Now listen here, boy. You need to think about how you’re going to continue this family. That title of yours is secondary to mine and doesn’t come with anything. The earldom, my title, is attached to this estate, and it needs to continue after I’m through. You need to make sure it passes to your heirs as well. Wait.” He sneered. “Your kind and those over at the dukedom don’t have heirs.”

Collin remained standing, hating the way his father dismissed him and his friends. “Why do you act like this?” He decided to try the direct approach. “You know the duke and his husband are good people. They helped you out last fall, and yet you talk that way.”

“People like that—” his father began.

“Like what? Hard workers? People who are willing to put in the effort?” Collin met his father’s steely gaze, expecting a blowup. “You should be ashamed of how you talk about them and about me. I’m your son.”

His father glared at him. “There are times I wonder about that.”

Collin could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. “Really? You’re saying that Mom had an affair? Really? And she found someone as pale and round-faced as you are to screw around with?” He’d always wondered why his mother had stayed with his father. The man had few redeeming qualities.

“I just meant…,” he blustered, and for a second Collin thought he might have seen the first hint that his father knew he’d gone too far—something rare in the man.

“I know what you were saying. That I don’t measure up and that you wanted someone different for a son. Maybe you wanted someone who was straight, or maybe a kid who is as useless and lazy as you.” He had had enough of his father’s picking, controlling attitude. “I’ll leave in two weeks and will be away for a fortnight. I have a right, and I’m perfectly free to go.”

“Fine,” his father snapped. “But I expect something in return.”

Collin chuckled. “Like what? You forget that I don’t owe you anything. My title has been registered with Debrett’s, so trying to remove it would cause talk. In fact, anything you do will cause talk, and I know you don’t want that.” His father wasn’t exactly in favor with any of the local gentry, so a scandal would only push him further to the edges of local society, and that would hurt. “Just stop, Father. You don’t get to control me or run my life.”

To Collin’s surprise, his father picked up his book once more and just shook his head. “Fine. You go to America with your friends.” The way he said it made Collin wonder what he thought he was up to. But Collin wasn’t going to stick around to try to puzzle out the many wavering paths of his father’s mind. That was a job that would stymie a team of psychoanalysts.

“I’ll make sure everything is seen to and let you know the exact dates I’ll be gone.” He left the room and then placed a call to George, who made flight arrangements for him, and Collin was all set. He hung up the phone and wondered why he was so excited. He had just volunteered to go to America and spend two weeks on a ranch. Yes, he worked with horses, but he knew very little about being a cowboy.

Still, it was a chance to get away from his father and Westworth and all the problems his father seemed intent on ignoring. Perhaps with him gone, the earl would have to get up off his posterior and do something. Collin still wondered what his father had up his sleeve, but he put the thoughts aside.

His phone rang, and Collin answered it right away. “What’s up?” he asked Riley, his best friend from school.

“I was calling to see if you wanted to hit the pub tonight.” Riley always had enough energy for three people. His mother worked on George’s estate and had since Riley was a kid. Riley was whip-smart, and George’s father had helped him get into some of the best schools, which was where Collin had met him.

“Sure. I can meet you.” He checked the time. “Hook and Castle in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Riley said just as Collin’s father entered the room. He fixed Collin with a glare. He didn’t like Riley either. Collin was starting to think his father hated everyone in Collin’s life. Not that it mattered.

“Yes, it does,” he said gently. “I’ll meet you at the pub, and I can tell you all about my upcoming trip to America.” He held his father’s gaze, watching that little vein on his forehead.

“You’re leaving?” Riley asked, aghast.

“Just for two weeks. I’m traveling with the duke and Alan, and I’ll be spending the time on a ranch there.” He waited until his father left the room again before smiling.

“I take it that little scene was for your father. Are you really going?” Riley knew the workings of his relationship with his father better than Collin did sometimes.

“Yeah. I think it’s time I try to build a life of my own somehow, and I’m not going to do it here. My father is getting even worse.”

“The gay thing?” Riley asked.

“And that ‘carry on the family line’ thing,” he added. “I’m tired of all of it. Enough is enough, so I’m leaving the country for a while.”

Riley sighed. “I wish I could go. I’d love to find me a cowboy and ride him over the range.” Collin snickered at Riley’s joke. Or maybe he was serious. It was sometimes hard to tell. “I’ll still be here trying to get this spirit shop of mine up and running, and you’ll be over in America finding cowboys to ride.”

Collin should be so lucky.