of a dark, rich walnut. Pictures lined the walls, hung in ornate, gilt frames—all ancient ancestors of one kind or another. If pressed Freddy could name most of them, he’d been drilled in that sort of thing by his mother when he was a lad. The windows along the east wall lit the room in the morning and gave an excellent view of the park outside, and the garden with its elaborate maze and sparkling fountain. The overall effect was elegant yet masculine. Freddy felt utterly at home here, relaxed. He could see a woman being quite happy here as well. Anne would fit this room perfectly.
“Jerome redid this room, didn’t he, Reeves?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Right before his death.” Reeves paused. “I believe the duchess has plans to redecorate it again.”
A ferocious desire to keep the room just the way it was swept over Freddy. “Does she? Well, cancel them, Reeves. I want this room left alone.” He turned and looked hard at the butler, who he knew was unfailingly loyal to the duchess. “Do you understand, Reeves?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Freddy looked up at the huge octagonal brass chandelier hanging above the table.
“I was thinking of sending to London for a decorator. I believe it is time some changes were made here at the Park.”
At his announcement a plate behind him hit the floor with a resounding crash.
Freddy turned startled eyes on Reeves, who looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Reeves cheeks turned bright red. “I’m very sorry, Your Grace.”
52
Retreat From Love
“Are you all right, Reeves?” Brett asked quietly. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No, sir, thank you,” Reeves replied with dignity. He gestured at one of the footmen to clean up the mess. The footmen’s faces were carefully blank, but Freddy knew they were as surprised as he.
“Well, don’t worry about it, Reeves,” Freddy said with a nonchalant wave. “I’m sure we have more where that one came from.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Reeves intoned from behind him.
Brett was biting his upper lip, fighting a grin. The sight of his sharp, white teeth gripping that chiseled lip sent a bolt of pure lust into Freddy’s cock, hardening it immediately. Freddy sighed and uncrossed his legs. Damn if this wasn’t going to be one of those days.
“What kind of changes, Freddy?” Brett asked as he motioned a footman over to refill his and Freddy’s coffee cups.
“I thought I’d start with the green drawing room,” Freddy mused. “I’ve never liked that room.”
“Your Grace!” Reeves exclaimed in horror. “The Prince Regent himself has admired that room.”
Freddy made a face. “Well that decides it. The green drawing room must go.”
Brett laughed. “You are duke now, Freddy.” He leaned over and lightly squeezed Freddy’s forearm. “I think it is high time you made Ashton Park yours.” Brett sat back before Freddy could capture his hand and hold it on his arm, which was his inclination.
Brett was oblivious. “What do you plan to do?”
Freddy sighed. “I’m not sure. But I think I would like a little less formality. No matter what my mother thinks, this is not a royal residence.” He gestured around them.
“I am quite taken with this scheme here. I shall have a decorator look at this room and then proceed from there.” He turned to Reeves. “Reeves, find out who decorated this room. Perhaps Jerome had more changes in mind and discussed it with the fellow.”
“Shall you make it a bachelor’s residence?” Brett asked a little too nonchalantly.
Freddy wasn’t sure what Brett wanted to hear. He’d denied Freddy repeatedly.
Would he be happy if Freddy wed and left him alone? Or did he want Freddy to say yes, to confirm Brett would always have a place in his home? Freddy answered carefully. “No, I do not think so. There will be women here.” He deliberately didn’t say who they might be, but some devil made him add, “Perhaps even your wife, Brett.”
Brett spun about, startled. “My
“Jerome redid this room, didn’t he, Reeves?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Right before his death.” Reeves paused. “I believe the duchess has plans to redecorate it again.”
A ferocious desire to keep the room just the way it was swept over Freddy. “Does she? Well, cancel them, Reeves. I want this room left alone.” He turned and looked hard at the butler, who he knew was unfailingly loyal to the duchess. “Do you understand, Reeves?”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Freddy looked up at the huge octagonal brass chandelier hanging above the table.
“I was thinking of sending to London for a decorator. I believe it is time some changes were made here at the Park.”
At his announcement a plate behind him hit the floor with a resounding crash.
Freddy turned startled eyes on Reeves, who looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Reeves cheeks turned bright red. “I’m very sorry, Your Grace.”
52
Retreat From Love
“Are you all right, Reeves?” Brett asked quietly. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No, sir, thank you,” Reeves replied with dignity. He gestured at one of the footmen to clean up the mess. The footmen’s faces were carefully blank, but Freddy knew they were as surprised as he.
“Well, don’t worry about it, Reeves,” Freddy said with a nonchalant wave. “I’m sure we have more where that one came from.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Reeves intoned from behind him.
Brett was biting his upper lip, fighting a grin. The sight of his sharp, white teeth gripping that chiseled lip sent a bolt of pure lust into Freddy’s cock, hardening it immediately. Freddy sighed and uncrossed his legs. Damn if this wasn’t going to be one of those days.
“What kind of changes, Freddy?” Brett asked as he motioned a footman over to refill his and Freddy’s coffee cups.
“I thought I’d start with the green drawing room,” Freddy mused. “I’ve never liked that room.”
“Your Grace!” Reeves exclaimed in horror. “The Prince Regent himself has admired that room.”
Freddy made a face. “Well that decides it. The green drawing room must go.”
Brett laughed. “You are duke now, Freddy.” He leaned over and lightly squeezed Freddy’s forearm. “I think it is high time you made Ashton Park yours.” Brett sat back before Freddy could capture his hand and hold it on his arm, which was his inclination.
Brett was oblivious. “What do you plan to do?”
Freddy sighed. “I’m not sure. But I think I would like a little less formality. No matter what my mother thinks, this is not a royal residence.” He gestured around them.
“I am quite taken with this scheme here. I shall have a decorator look at this room and then proceed from there.” He turned to Reeves. “Reeves, find out who decorated this room. Perhaps Jerome had more changes in mind and discussed it with the fellow.”
“Shall you make it a bachelor’s residence?” Brett asked a little too nonchalantly.
Freddy wasn’t sure what Brett wanted to hear. He’d denied Freddy repeatedly.
Would he be happy if Freddy wed and left him alone? Or did he want Freddy to say yes, to confirm Brett would always have a place in his home? Freddy answered carefully. “No, I do not think so. There will be women here.” He deliberately didn’t say who they might be, but some devil made him add, “Perhaps even your wife, Brett.”
Brett spun about, startled. “My
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