Control and Compassion: A Risqué Regency Romance (The Gypsy Gentlemen Book 2) Page 5

  He chuckled, and Freddie knew he wasn’t seeing her now, but his past. “But the end result was a group of Gypsy musicians who loudly and noisily entertained the people we met, and then quietly and surreptitiously did what we could to help them.”

  “How?” Freddie encouraged Peter, wanting to hear about this time in her husband’s life. A time that had made him the man he was today. The man she loved beyond reason.

  “How? God, so many different ways. Food, of course, wherever we could trade for it, steal it, trap it…whatever. Clothing…you’d be surprised how many people would refuse to pay us a centime for a song, but would gladly discard old clothes as payment instead.” He shook his head.

  “Hiding the young men. That was a prime mission of ours. To try and see that the communities and villages we visited had a few men left to take care of things. How on earth can a village of women and children be expected to repair a broken plow? Yes, they can harvest the crops, but how can they replant for the next season without a plow? How can they roof their cottages without the tools or the strength to carry the bundles up a ladder?”

  Peter choked slightly, fighting his temper. “Armies don’t think, Freddie. They march. They fight. They die. No one ever thinks of the lives they leave behind.”

  “But you did. You and your friends.”

  “We tried. Fabyan was our motivator. Somehow, without words, he gathered us into a group. He makes his wishes known…sometimes he writes them down, or signals us, but it took less than no time for us to understand him. Just a look now, and we’re in complete understanding. It’s uncanny…”

  “Has he never spoken?”

  Peter paused. “I’m not sure. I thought once I heard something…Fabyan was helping a child. But there was so much going on. The army was close behind us, along with a landowner whose prize goat we’d…um…appropriated.” He grinned. “And damn if that goat didn’t sire about a dozen little ones. We had come back that way a few months later, and there they all were.”

  Freddie yawned. “I envy you in some ways, Peter. Such a close bond to have formed with such a wonderful group of men.”

  “You’re a part of it now, my love.”

  “That’s nice…”

  Lady Chalmers fell asleep wrapped in her husband’s arms, totally uncaring of the fact they both lay on a rug before the fire.

  *~~*~~*

  While the Chalmers cuddled their way off to sleep, Count Viktor Karoly was very much awake in the master suite and staring at his wife, trying to comprehend what she’d just said.

  “You will have to kill him, of course.”

  Viktor blinked. “That’s rather harsh, Madelyne darling. The man is your father.”

  Madelyne snorted and peeled her body away from her husband’s, where it had fallen after their energetic lovemaking had ended. In a mutually satisfactory way as always.

  “Since when?” She tucked the covers around them both.

  “Well…I…er…”

  “Exactly. He has never acted like a father, Viktor. He’s seldom acted like a man. He’s a beast in so many ways, and that’s being unfair to the beasts of this world. At least they can claim the need to survive. Alfred Eventyde is just evil. Through and through.”

  Viktor sighed. “I know you’re right. But kill him? I’m not sure if that’s the answer.”

  “If you don’t, I will.”

  Viktor turned his head on the pillow and stared at the blue-eyed angel who met his gaze determinedly.

  “I’m not joking, Viktor. After what he’s done to me? I can only begin to imagine what he’s done with the rest of his life. I don’t want to know. He may have planted a seed in my mother and given me life, but that doesn’t entitle him to my affections, my loyalty or any other kind of filial feelings.”

  Madelyne’s mouth firmed. “And I can’t help thinking that he’d not miss a chance to extract revenge on me too. For thwarting his plans. For messing up his arrangement with Hucknall. I have so much more to lose now, Viktor. If he were to try and hurt you…”

  Her voice quavered for a moment and a small hand crept across Viktor’s chest.

  He seized it and raised it to his lips. “Sweetheart, it won’t happen. We’re safe from him. He would gain nothing by attacking us but the condemnation of his peers.”

  “But if he should…”

  “He won’t. I have my friends, my servants, and one rather bloodthirsty little wife. I am well-protected, trust me.”

  “I’ll feel better if you kill him.”

  Viktor couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “We’ll see, love, we’ll see. If our plans go well, I can guarantee you that he’ll never cross our path again.”

  “So you do have a plan, then?”

  Viktor cursed softly beneath his breath. In Hungarian. “Madelyne, you are the most devious…”

  She giggled and nipped his chest, ringing his nipple with her tongue. “Perhaps that’s why you love me.”

  He tugged her close and kissed her thoroughly. “That and so many other reasons I’ve lost count.”

  Madelyne subsided, content.

  Almost.

  “So…tell me about these plans of yours?”

  *~~*~~*

  The same moonlight that shone on the face of Madelyne, Countess Karoly, as she extracted the details of his plan from an unwilling Viktor, also shone on a small caravan.

  It was tucked into the depths of the forest, not far from a small stream, and its occupants were finishing off their wine and readying themselves for the night. They were still a couple of days’ journey from London, but Lukasz and Matyas Eger were in no hurry.

  Lukasz stretched and yawned loudly. “Lord, but I’m tired.”

  Matyas sluiced the empty wine bottle in a bucket of water and tossed it into a basket where it clinked against its fellows. “Why? We’ve done naught but amble through this forest like snails.”

  “Perhaps that’s it. My brains are slowing down along with my body.”

  Matyas shrugged. “I agree it’s been a little quiet of late. But admit it, Luk, the peace has been most welcome.”

  The two men efficiently cleared away their possessions, stowing them safely around the caravan and dousing the fire.

  “Tomorrow—perhaps we should make more of an effort to get on the London road? I’m beginning to miss the others.” Luk stepped up into the caravan.

  Mat followed him and closed the door, sliding the bolt carefully home and locking them into their own private world. “Agreed. I look forward to seeing them once more. It’s been a long time since we have been separated for more than a night or two.”

  Mat’s words were echoing his own thoughts, in their usual way. Luk realized that in the last several years, the Gypsies had become so used to functioning as a unit, that to be apart like this was unsettling, to say the least.

  Of course, it was nothing compared to what he would be feeling if he were alone. To be apart from Mat was unthinkable.

  The two men shed their clothing and snuffed the single candle, unfolding the blankets and stretching out side-by-side as they had done for more years than they could recall.

  This night, however, sleep would not come to Luk, and he sighed as he stared from the small window into the starry, moonlit sky.

  “Can’t sleep?” Mat’s voice broke the silence.

  Luk shifted his arm and rested his head on it. “No.”

  “The dreams again?”

  “Not this time, no. Just…thinking. How long has it been, Mat?”

  Mat chuckled. “Since what? Since we had a woman? Since we ate? Since we saw our friends?”

  “Since we met.”

  Mat stilled. “I don’t know. Twenty years at least.”

  Luk could hear him turn on the blanket as he too stared out into the night.

  “Must be at least twenty. After the orphanage it was five years or so on the streets of Eger, then those years with the Turk…then…” Mat’s voice tapered off.

  “I suppose so.” Luk’s mind wa
ndered over their pasts. He couldn’t recall a time when Mat hadn’t been there at his side. He didn’t want to imagine a time when that would ever happen. “Mat…I…” He paused.

  “I know.”

  And the funny thing was, mused Luk, Mat did know. He knew exactly what Luk was thinking, what he was trying to say. It had always been this way between them.

  Since that first moment when two boys had confronted each other over a scrap of stale bread and their eyes had met. Instead of fighting, they’d shared. And from that tiny shared meal a friendship had sprung that had carried them through the past twenty years of their lives, enriching them, saving them from death time and time again, and bringing them to this quiet forest, as grown men.

  While the world considered them brothers, only Lukasz and Matyas knew their name had been stolen from the town they’d lived in. And only they knew that the bond between them had nothing to do with blood ties, and everything to do with a meeting of their souls.

  Luk sighed. “It must be the wine. Or the excessive quiet we’ve been experiencing.”

  Mat chuckled. “Perhaps it is time for our woman, Luk.”

  “Aha. I think you’re right. It would certainly take care of some longings I confess have gone too long uneased.” He grinned into the darkness. “Whose turn is it this time?”

  MAT AND LUK

  Chapter One

  “Yours, I think.” Mat smiled. He loved it when Luk led this game.

  “Very well. Give me a moment here…”

  Mat’s hand fell down his body to his cock. Already it was starting to stir. It knew well what awaited it.

  “Perhaps tonight is a good night for our silver angel.”

  Oh yes. The silver angel. An excellent choice for a soft country night such as this. Mat sensed Luk’s hand moving downwards as well.

  “There she is, coming towards us…” Luk began his fantasy. “She’s wearing a simple wrap of silk, the color of moonlight, but it is so loose she’s having to hold it to her with one hand…”

  “And the other?” Mat’s grasp on his cock was strengthening as his arousal grew to the picture Luk was painting for him.

  “The other is pushing her hair away from her face. Her long hair…so white it’s almost silver. Blowing softly now, and there…yes…”

  “What?”

  “It’s caught…wrapped around her breast.”

  “Which one?”

  Luk paused in his monologue and his strokes on his cock stilled. “Does it bloody matter?”

  “Uh no. Sorry. Carry on.” Mat apologized and allowed his hand to continue arousing himself. Gently at first, he stroked his length, letting his mind fill with the image of the silver angel and how she would look as she neared him.

  Luk snorted and continued. “The wind is picking up now, and blowing the silk away from her body. She’s naked beneath.”

  Of course. She always was.

  Mat smiled as he tugged on the skin of his cock, gripping a little harder now. This game of theirs had begun so many years ago, when death had stared them in the face and they determined to meet it with a raised chin and a defiant attitude.

  He remembered the first woman they’d created, and how they’d come together, sharing their climaxes, mingling their seed and binding themselves to each other in preparation for the next life.

  They’d cheated their fate, but the ‘game’ had stayed with them. Neither man would ever think of giving it up, so much a part of their natures had it become.

  “Tell me how she looks tonight, Luk.”

  “She looks lovely, but a little lost. As if she’s seeking something. Someone.” Luk’s body was moving next to Mat’s now, as he too stroked himself.

  “Her breasts are bared…the silk has fallen away. Such wondrous things, breasts.”

  “Describe them.”

  Mat could hear the smile in Luk’s voice as he complied. Luk knew how much Mat loved breasts. “They’re full, very round and heavy, with nipples…ah…those nipples…see how they’re hardening as the breeze touches them? Small, perfectly-shaped nipples, the color of…the color of ripe peaches like we used to steal from the Eger marketplace, remember?”

  Mat did indeed. And in his mind, he could see those nipples. His cock was hard now, a slight bead of moisture dewing its head. He ran his thumb over the little drop and smeared it around, enjoying the feel of the cool air as it touched warm damp flesh.

  “She’s lifting them towards us, Mat. Offering them. She wants us to taste them.”

  “I think we should, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Just a lick. A sweet suckle perhaps.”

  Mat’s mouth watered, and his hand moved faster. Beside him he could hear Luk’s actions matching his.

  “How good they taste. Fruity and womanly. Oh…she’s lying down, Mat. The silk is crumpled beneath her and she’s lying on it, and…and she’s parting her legs for us.”

  Mat’s forehead broke out in a sweat. “Tell me. What do you see?”

  *~~*~~*

  What do I see?

  For one terrible instant, Luk saw not the silver angel of his fantasy, but the savage face of the Turk as he held a pistol to Mat’s head. He drew in a sharp breath and banished the image.

  To his relief the angel returned, lying in wait on her cloud of silk. “I see her pussy, Mat. She’s wet. So wet. Her honey is slicked around her flesh.”

  “She has hair there, yes?”

  “Oh yes. The most delicate downy hair, shining with her juices and just waiting for us to part it and find her heat.”

  “And do you think we should use our tongues this time?”

  Luk considered this. “I think perhaps I shall suckle her breasts some more. You can use your tongue if you’d like.”

  “Well…” Mat paused. “I shall use my hands first. I want to see her. See that little pearl swelling and shining. Touch those folds of flesh that beckon us.”

  Luk hissed in a breath. Mat was very good at creating the details of these fantasies. Luk’s cock agreed. Beneath his hand his arousal hardened to the point of pain. It wouldn’t take long tonight.

  “And how does she look, Mat? Tell me while I tug on these hard nipples of hers…”

  Luk tugged on the other thing that was hard, and slipped a hand beneath to cradle his balls. He loved the warmth and the feeling of his seed pulsing inside the tightening pouch of skin.

  “She looks…she looks…ready, Luk,” breathed Mat. He was moving deliberately now, as he lay next to Luk, and his voice was rough.

  Luk knew that both Mat’s hands would be circling his cock. They’d compared techniques often enough. Early on, they’d tried it on each other, but as they’d gained experience with their women, they’d come to understand the subtleties that existed between one’s own touch and that of another.

  There were some things that could only be shared to a point. Self-pleasure was one of them.

  “Then take her, Mat…take over…” Luk’s balls tightened as he pictured the scene in his mind.

  “She’s so hot and wet…her flesh is burning me…” Mat’s voice was a harsh breath, ragged as he pumped himself. “I’m sliding into her. Deep. Very deep. Her thighs are brushing my skin and parting even more.”

  “Thrust into her, Mat. Take her. Claim her. She’s ours…” Luk’s hips rose now, in time with his hands and his spine tingled sharply.

  A groan from beside him matched the sound trapped in his throat.

  “I’m there, Luk. I’m there. She’s hanging on to me, pulsing around me, tugging at my cock with her hot flesh…oh God…we’re coming…”

  So was Luk.

  With a muffled shout, Luk’s body let go, his seed spurting over his belly and his muscles screaming out their pleasure at the release.

  He vaguely heard Mat’s cry beside him.

  For a few seconds the world stood still, and all Luk could do was wait for his body to return. Emptied of its tensions, it finally did.

  With a sigh, he let his hands fall to hi
s side, brushing Mat’s skin.

  Mat’s hand moved to grasp his.

  “Köszönem, testvér.”

  Thank you, my brother.

  *~~*~~*

  My little brother.

  Matyas allowed himself a private chuckle the following morning as he dressed after their brief but invigorating dip in the stream. Calling Luk little anything was to do him an injustice.

  The sun was barely rising, but they’d become accustomed to waking at dawn, and the chance to start the day clean and refreshed was always welcomed. Mat watched his friend climb into his breeches and adjust himself.

  Luk was one handsome devil. They both topped six feet, but Mat knew that Luk had the shoulders and the muscles to go with it. He himself had a lean strength about him, and did not begrudge Luk his power. It had come in handy often enough, as had his own lightning-quick reflexes.

  Dark as night, the two were easily assumed to be brothers. They were content to let it be so. No two brothers could have shared more, and in truth would probably have liked each other a lot less. The mere fact that they both had black hair, dark brown eyes and a similar height was a simple result of their birth.

  The fact that they had found contentment and safety with each other was a blessing from God. One for which Mat privately gave thanks each and every day of his life.

  As he did this morning.

  Suddenly, Luk raised his head. “I hear something.”

  Mat heard it too. “A hunt? Seems early?”

  Luk was already bustling to the caravan, locking it up tight. “Too many men, not enough dogs. Let’s go and find out.”

  The two men silently entered the forest. Mat could sense his adrenaline rise as they headed for the commotion that disturbed the tranquility of the dawn. Many times before, they had stealthily done much the same thing, only then they’d had to worry about soldiers, scouting parties, and the occasional irate husband.

  This sounded different. Louder, more raucous, as if someone was completely uncaring about whether they were heard or not.

  Mat stilled Luk with a hand on his arm. “Ssshh…” He froze, straining his ears for something he thought he’d heard. As if by mutual consent, both men eased back into the undergrowth. Someone was coming their way.