Speak Its Name: A Trilogy by Lee Rowan, Charlie Cochrane, Erastes

occasional pang of longing as he’d had this evening, a wish that he could slide into bed beside that strong, slender body and gather it into his arms... well, how many men really got everything they wanted?
    It helped that he could remind himself that Lord Robert was far from constant in his affections. He had gone through a string of temporary, occasional lovers. Jack had seen them all—and he had seen them leave. It was better to be the one who stayed. Not perfect, perhaps. Not his heart’s desire. But better.
    The gentle rocking of the car eventually lulled him into a dreamless sleep that was disturbed, much too soon, by a faint but insistent tapping. Jack opened his eyes in pitch darkness, which at this time of year meant well before five a.m. And the porter wasn’t supposed to wake them until a quarter past six.
    The tapping stopped. Ten seconds later, it resumed.
    As quietly as he could, Jack extricated himself from his bedroll and went through the connecting door to his own compartment. Pistol? No, the noise would bring unwanted company. But he did snatch up Lord Robert’s ebony walking stick, with its heavy silver handle. The rumble of the train’s movement muffled the slight sounds as he pulled the trunk aside and cautiously opened the second compartment’s door into the corridor.
    A short, well-dressed man was standing, slightly hunched, outside the door to Lord Robert’s compartment. Darling could not see his face beneath the brim of a dark homburg, but as the man raised his hand to tap on the door once again, he closed the other door behind him. “May I assist you?”
    The inconsiderate visitor jumped at the sound, and looked up; it was Jack’s turn to be surprised. The last time he’d seen this gentleman, they both had been in uniform. “Captain McDonald?”
    “No names, if you please.” He took a few steps toward Darling. “I must speak to Lord Robert immediately. It’s a matter of greatest urgency.”
    He was speaking in a low tone, which suited Darling perfectly. “That will not be possible. His Lordship is unwell.” Even if Lord Robert had been in perfect fettle, Darling would have discouraged this particular visitor.
    But McDonald was a man accustomed to getting his own way; he didn’t budge. “His Lordship could be a damned sight worse than unwell if he’s not careful. There’s a man aboard this train who’s a danger to all three of us. Will you open this door?”
    “No, sir, I will not. In any case, I believe your warning may be several hours too late.”
    Alarm flickered across McDonald’s handsome but peevish face. “Unwell, you said—was he attacked? Injured?”
    “Not seriously. However, the doctor prescribed a good night’s sleep and I intend to see that his orders are carried out. If you would care to return at seven a.m., or perhaps join his Lordship in the dining car for breakfast—?”
    “No. We mustn’t be seen together. That’s why I came by at this ungodly hour.”
    “If you would be so good as to entrust me with the particulars, I will convey the information to his Lordship when he awakens. The name and description of—”
    “Stuffy as ever, aren’t you, Darling?” McDonald smirked, looking him up and down with a more than casual eye. “You really should have stayed in uniform—it lent you a certain air of authority.”
    Jack said nothing. Cecil McDonald had been one of those officers who stayed overnight at Major Scoville’s quarters. The association had been short, to Darling’s relief, and the break had been complete. He did not know what had caused it, nor did he care.
    The army captain’s uniform McDonald wore back then had lent him a certain air, too, but he had been slimmer then, and better looking. What once was youthful charm had deteriorated into a petulant childishness, and his insults were no more clever now than then. The only thing to do was ignore them and wait him out.
    “Oh, very well,” McDonald said, when it became apparent that