Kindred Hearts by Rowan Speedwell

mentioned you were returning home. Are you back for good, or just on assignment?”
     
    “For good, I’m afraid,” he said with a chuckle. “I’m not cut out for the diplomatic life, so I’ve been sent home in disgrace.”
     
    “Nonsense,” Lottie said. “You’re being silly.”
     
    “Actually, yes, I am—no disgrace involved. The Duke has plenty of advisors far better suited than I to diplomacy. It was an honor to be taken on as one of his ADCs in the Peninsula, but that was primarily due to my German translation skills. His Grace speaks very little German, and most of the King’s German Regiment very little English. I was transferred to Lord Castlereagh’s staff when the Duke was made ambassador to France, for the same reason, and went with Castlereagh to Vienna, but now he’s come home and Wellington’s in Vienna in his place. There are plenty of bilingual staff in Vienna these days, so I’ve decided twelve years is enough of playing at soldiers, and am temporarily posted to the Horse Guards while my regiment is overseas. Until I sell my commission.”
     
    “And I will hear nothing of your putting up elsewhere while you do,” Lottie said, apparently carrying on the conversation Tristan had interrupted. “We’ve plenty of space here, and it would be silly for you to waste your blunt on rooms when we’re so close to your headquarters. Besides, I’m sure you won’t have any funds until the sale comes through.”
     
    “I’ve plenty in my pocket,” the major said with that smoky laugh. “Despite the expense of Vienna’s sartorial demands. Plus, unless Daniel’s managed to get his hands on my allowance, I should have some funds in Barclay’s.”
     
    “You do. Daniel is so very annoyed that he can’t get at it,” Lottie said complacently. “He’s perpetually asking Tristan for money.”
     
    The major’s brows drew together sharply. “He does? You don’t comply, do you, Northwood?”
     
    Tristan shook his head. What had the major asked? Oh. Right. Daniel. “Rarely, and then only a few guineas. Daniel’s judgment on fiscal matters is pathetic.” He smiled briefly and met the major’s warm, dark eyes; they held Tristan’s a moment, then glittered faintly as the well-shaped lips curled upward in response to Tristan’s expression. That bell-like chord rang again. Tristan turned his head away, breaking the connection, and shook his head in confusion. When the hell had he started noticing the shape of a man’s mouth or the warmth of a man’s eyes?
     
    When he’d walked into the drawing room.
     
    “Are you all right, dear?” Lottie asked placidly.
     
    “Yes, of course,” Tristan said. “A bit of headache, that is all.”
     
    “Perhaps you should have a lie-down before dinner,” she said. “Charles, you’ll be joining us, won’t you?”
     
    A vision flashed into Tristan’s head then, of lying on his bed, that tall, powerful figure beside him, stripped of that blue uniform, that tanned skin and bright hair golden in firelight. He shook his head again, swallowed hard, and said thickly, “Excuse me. I must…,” and he turned and almost ran from the room.
     

     

     
    He was relieved to find his room empty, Reston off doing something other than tending his wardrobe. Using the much-despised boot jack to remove his Hessians, he tossed his coat over a chair and crawled fully dressed onto the bed, curling up on his side as though defending against a kicking. It had been years since he’d had a sudden physical reaction like this, a fully extended cockstand already throbbing with aching need. And for a man? He felt feverish, hot and clammy and sick with desire, and confused as hell. Nothing had ever hit him like this before. No—wait. Once. Once, drunk and stumbling into the wrong inn room. Firelight golden on strong flesh, muscled legs and men’s low voices…. God. He’d never forgotten that. He’d pushed it aside, hidden it in his deepest memory, but it had never