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about. "I-I'm sorry."
Kneeling, Tem stroked his hair. How on earth could anyone consider this boy a terror? "You
shouldn't be sneaking about, Pierce. If you do something to get hurt, someone might not hear
you. That would upset your brother."
"But I go to watch him& "
Tem blinked. "Watch& Gideon? Do what?"
An expression that was unmistakably hero-worship lit up Pierce's face, and it was impossible to
tell that just a second ago the boy had been about to cry. He grasped Tem's hand and tugged him
along. "You can come see, too. He's in the ballroom; I know how to get onto the balcony. Come
on!" Beaming now, he held fast to Tem's hand and half-walked, half-ran through the hallways.
When they reached the balcony and Tem got a look at what was below, only the fact that the boy
didn't need to see such things kept him from throwing himself off the balcony to have his wicked
way with the man below.
Gideon was fencing, dueling his shadow across the candlelit ballroom, thrusting, dodging,
parrying. He made it look like dancing, as natural as breathing. Tem thought the only thing more
beautiful and sensual was Gideon braced above him, lost in the throes of passion. He swallowed,
grateful he still wore his night robe and that it was voluminous enough to hide his reaction to the
sight of Gideon sparring.
He shifted his attention to Pierce, who still wore that look of hero-worship. Tem thought the
entire house could come crashing down about them and the boy would not notice unless Gideon
stopped fencing.
They watched in silence until the distant chiming of a clock informed them it was one in the
morning. Tem was devastated to see that Gideon was stopping, but once the ballroom was empty
he was forcibly reminded of his duties. He touched Pierce's shoulder and led the way back to the
boy's bedroom.
"You watch him fence? Why keep it secret?"
"It's my fault he only does it late at night," Pierce said, as though stating a sad fact. "I heard
everyone say so." His eyes were intent, far too adult for twelve. "If not for me, he could still be
famous. Are you going to beat me for sneaking out?"
Tem blinked. "Beat you? No. However, you will have extra math lessons tomorrow and I forbid
you to sneak around without me, all right? Do you watch him every night?"
"Uh-huh."
"Then we will both go," Tem said firmly. He wished looking after his charges could always
involve such exquisite torture. "Now, off to bed with you. Lessons begin straight after breakfast."
Pierce nodded and climbed into bed. Once he was settled, Tem snuffed the light and quietly
made his way back to his own room. Putting out the light, he stripped off his robe and settled
into bed to further torture himself with images of Gideon fencing back and forth across the
ballroom floor.
*~*~*
Gideon thanked the stable hand and mounted his horse, guiding her away from the manor and
out over the fields, urging her to a faster pace and enjoying the brisk breeze. For the first time in
far too long, his headache and strain started to ease.
Some of the strain anyway, and it all came rushing back as he crested a hill and looked down into
the small valley below.
What had he done to make the gods hate him so?
It was bad enough he couldn't get that one night with Tem out of his mind. Now he had to watch
the bastard charm his little brother, charm the servants, fit perfectly into life at Foxwood& and
couldn't touch. There was enough scandal in his family's past, he couldn't make it worse.
Someday Pierce would take his own place in the world, and Gideon could not, would not, make
it more difficult than it had to be.
Of course, his good intentions were crumbling swiftly beneath the sight of Tem splashing and
playing with Pierce in the swimming hole. Gods above, that man looked good wet. Growling,
Gideon turned his mare in the opposite direction - but just as he was about to ride off, he caught
the sound of someone shouting his name.
Well, shouting 'Lord Fairfax' and bloody hell did he hate to hear Tem call him that. Groaning,
Gideon turned back around and rode down to the swimming hole. Dismounting, he handed the
horse off to the footman who had accompanied the two to the swimming hole and drew close.
He looked at Pierce, as lost as always about what to say to his little brother. He'd only been
eighteen when their parents had died. What the hell did an eighteen year old know about raising
a child? It didn't help that he sensed Pierce somehow held him responsible. How did you explain
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