With Everything I Have
R. Cooper
Published at Smashwords
Copyright 2013
This e-book is licensed for personal
enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with someone
else, please purchase a copy for each recipient. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase please visit Smashwords.com and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for reading and for respecting
the hard work of this author.
“Sebastian.” Peter stood on the other side of
the door in what might have once been crisp, white shirtsleeves. He
wasn’t wearing a dinner jacket but his trousers were coal black and
there was a cravat at his throat in the same shade. He was too pale
for such a dark colour but there was something striking in how he
always dressed so plainly. Despite the ancient claims of his
family, there was more Norman than Saxon evident in the lean,
handsome lines of him. Peter’s face could have been the work of an
artist, fine cheekbones and slender nose, full lips, and eyes the
shade of Scottish whiskey. Ornament was not necessary.
His eyebrows were what made him a real man of
flesh. They were too serious, bordering on thick despite the slight
arch over the right one. His brows were the same dark brown as his
hair, which someone, probably Smythe, who doubled as a valet when
required, had tried to hold in place with pomade.
A curl had strayed into Peter’s face despite
Smythe’s best efforts. It nearly covered the grease mark by Peter’s
ear.
Sebastian gave a long sigh and tried not to
glance too obviously at Peter’s half-dressed state. He didn’t get
to see Peter dressed for the evening nearly as often as he’d like.
Peter’s shirt had been cut to fit his body, emphasizing his slim
hips and the startling breadth of his shoulders yet Peter seemed
entirely unconscious of the effect he could have had if he ever
chose to venture out into society dressed in his finest evening
wear.
“I can see that you at least tried to
remember that you had an engagement tonight.” Sebastian smiled as
he said it, unsurprised in the extreme that Peter had once again
failed to appear at a party where he’d been expected.
Peter froze. In the gas-lit hallway, flames
seemed to dance from the brass fixtures to his eyes and back
again.
Sebastian was possibly in a cup too deep and
indulging his love of poetry, but it had been a long night and
Peter looked impossibly fetching in his stark black and white
attire. Peter, of course, knew nothing of it and widened his eyes
when he caught Sebastian’s stare.
Peter looked away first, what could have been
guilt darkening his cheeks. When he turned back his gaze lingered
on Sebastian’s far more decorative choice in evening wear; his
tight waistcoat, the perfectly starched cut of his collar against
his throat. Unlike Peter, Sebastian was often to be found dressed
in his best. Unlike Peter, Sebastian had been at Harold’s dinner
party.
Sebastian took a moment to give Peter another
considering glance, this time with a mind to Peter’s health more
than his clothes. Sebastian was considered something of a dandy in
most circles—he couldn’t help liking bright colours and soft
fabrics any more than he could help having the good taste and
admirable figure to wear them well. Tonight he’d chosen a green
paisley silk waistcoat, with a jade pin in his cravat, and a rich
velvet coat with a purple lining. He was willing to admit his
choices were a touch dramatic but they had suited his mood.
Sebastian had been of a mind to be noticed when he had dressed for
the dinner, and jade made his eyes look clear and green as a
cucumber. Warm brown skin from a Jamaican grandmother meant he
could often wear the colours others couldn’t and he delighted in
doing so. Only his hair was safe from his peacocking impulses.
That, he kept short and parted slightly off-center, the waves
smoothed down with oil. His beard and mustache were small and
carefully
R. Cooper
Published at Smashwords
Copyright 2013
This e-book is licensed for personal
enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to
other people. If you would like to share this book with someone
else, please purchase a copy for each recipient. If you’re reading
this book and did not purchase please visit Smashwords.com and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for reading and for respecting
the hard work of this author.
“Sebastian.” Peter stood on the other side of
the door in what might have once been crisp, white shirtsleeves. He
wasn’t wearing a dinner jacket but his trousers were coal black and
there was a cravat at his throat in the same shade. He was too pale
for such a dark colour but there was something striking in how he
always dressed so plainly. Despite the ancient claims of his
family, there was more Norman than Saxon evident in the lean,
handsome lines of him. Peter’s face could have been the work of an
artist, fine cheekbones and slender nose, full lips, and eyes the
shade of Scottish whiskey. Ornament was not necessary.
His eyebrows were what made him a real man of
flesh. They were too serious, bordering on thick despite the slight
arch over the right one. His brows were the same dark brown as his
hair, which someone, probably Smythe, who doubled as a valet when
required, had tried to hold in place with pomade.
A curl had strayed into Peter’s face despite
Smythe’s best efforts. It nearly covered the grease mark by Peter’s
ear.
Sebastian gave a long sigh and tried not to
glance too obviously at Peter’s half-dressed state. He didn’t get
to see Peter dressed for the evening nearly as often as he’d like.
Peter’s shirt had been cut to fit his body, emphasizing his slim
hips and the startling breadth of his shoulders yet Peter seemed
entirely unconscious of the effect he could have had if he ever
chose to venture out into society dressed in his finest evening
wear.
“I can see that you at least tried to
remember that you had an engagement tonight.” Sebastian smiled as
he said it, unsurprised in the extreme that Peter had once again
failed to appear at a party where he’d been expected.
Peter froze. In the gas-lit hallway, flames
seemed to dance from the brass fixtures to his eyes and back
again.
Sebastian was possibly in a cup too deep and
indulging his love of poetry, but it had been a long night and
Peter looked impossibly fetching in his stark black and white
attire. Peter, of course, knew nothing of it and widened his eyes
when he caught Sebastian’s stare.
Peter looked away first, what could have been
guilt darkening his cheeks. When he turned back his gaze lingered
on Sebastian’s far more decorative choice in evening wear; his
tight waistcoat, the perfectly starched cut of his collar against
his throat. Unlike Peter, Sebastian was often to be found dressed
in his best. Unlike Peter, Sebastian had been at Harold’s dinner
party.
Sebastian took a moment to give Peter another
considering glance, this time with a mind to Peter’s health more
than his clothes. Sebastian was considered something of a dandy in
most circles—he couldn’t help liking bright colours and soft
fabrics any more than he could help having the good taste and
admirable figure to wear them well. Tonight he’d chosen a green
paisley silk waistcoat, with a jade pin in his cravat, and a rich
velvet coat with a purple lining. He was willing to admit his
choices were a touch dramatic but they had suited his mood.
Sebastian had been of a mind to be noticed when he had dressed for
the dinner, and jade made his eyes look clear and green as a
cucumber. Warm brown skin from a Jamaican grandmother meant he
could often wear the colours others couldn’t and he delighted in
doing so. Only his hair was safe from his peacocking impulses.
That, he kept short and parted slightly off-center, the waves
smoothed down with oil. His beard and mustache were small and
carefully
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