Chapter 2

I hate to be the one to tell you, but your brother Garrick was behind this. Think about it, please. Who introduced you to that lot?

He was right. I didn’t know how he was aware of this, but yes, going out the previous night had been my brother’s idea, and he was the one who’d introduced me to the raucous group of young men and women. I sighed. They’d seemed friendly enough and actually appeared pleased to meet me.

I arrived on the scene too late to stop you from getting the nipple ring or the tattoo, and I hope having that done didn’t hurt too much and that you’re all right with them. By the way, it’s a cute tattoo, and I’d get one like it myself only my employer would object to it.

His employer would? But how would it be known if Six had a tattoo on his buttocks? I shook my head, dismissed my wonder, and continued reading.

I hope your hangover isn’t too bad. Take some aspirin—I’ve found through personal experience ibuprofen tends to irritate an already upset stomach—with a glass of water or juice, munch on some dry toast or biscuits, and go back to bed if at all possible. I’d also suggest going easy on the sauce next time. And please watch out for your brother. I don’t think he’s your biggest fan.

Your friend,

Six

I folded the note, put it back in my pocket, and picked up my Paddington Bear. Then I squeezed myself into the child’s rocker, and rocked and held onto my bear while I thought and thought. Six was correct. I’d hoped otherwise, but…As much as it hurt, I knew I’d have to be very careful around my brother.

There was nothing I could do about Garrick, so I turned my thoughts to gaining my father’s attention. If neither good exam results nor bad behaviour worked, perhaps I’d try another road. Father knew of Errol Dorincourt from his time in the armed services during the last war, and I had learned if there was a man he loathed more than my Uncle James, it was Errol Dorincourt. Mr Dorincourt, who’d been awarded a CBE for his work during the war—much to Father’s displeasure—was happily married and had a number of children. I’d seen pictures of his sons, and while Robert, who was unabashedly gay, was more to my taste, he would eat me alive. Mr Dorincourt’s oldest son, on the other hand…He was heterosexual, but word had it he might be curious and willing to sample a young man’s charms. I intended to make sure that young man was me.

* * * *

I succeeded in drawing Andrew Dorincourt’s attention, although it was a challenge. The man didn’t seem to drink, at least not in any of the nightclubs my brother frequented. However, Andrew Dorincourt did have a sweet tooth, and I tracked him down to a shop which offered the most decadent desserts. Andrew was extremely handsome, his blue-black hair contrasting sharply with the colouring of the rest of his very fair siblings. His height of six foot three also had him taller than the men in his family, most notably, the brother closest to him in age. In addition, Andrew was twenty-six, making him the oldest man I had yet to date.

I struck up a conversation with him over Black Forest gateau, and we left the shop together almost an hour later. I’d hoped we were going to a hotel, where he would rid me of my virginity, but he seemed to be the old-fashioned sort who intended to court me.

At least that was what I assumed.

“Give me your address, St John. I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner.”

“That would be splendid.” It would be safe enough. Father was dining out in Hackney Wick and would be gone by the time Andrew called ‘round for me. I didn’t want Father to be aware of my date until my relationship with Mr Dorincourt’s son was tied up in a pretty bow.

I knew I should be ashamed of my attitude, but I’d reached the point where I was desperate for my father’s notice, and I was willing to do anything.

The suit I chose to wear was suitable for a restaurant whose menu was strictly à la carte, although Andrew was dressed slightly more casual. I frowned but made sure he didn’t see my disappointment.

We dined on charred squid salad for starters, roast lamb rump with sumac, aubergine, pomegranate and mint as our main, parmesan fried courgettes with tomato salsa for our vegetable, and rich dark chocolate fondant for dessert—which the man almost swooned over.

After dinner, he returned me home and walked me to the door. I received no more than a handshake, and I was wondering if I’d have to search elsewhere for a candidate to ensure Father’s attention, when he said, “A Chorus Lineis at the Theatre Royal. Would you like to see it this weekend?”

“I…I would enjoy that very much. Thank you.”

“All right, then. I’ll pick you up at six. We’ll have the pre-theatre dinner at the Holly.” He smiled into my eyes, and this time he kissed my cheek. “Good night, St John.”

“Good night, Andrew.”

I let myself in, certain he liked me. Well, he wouldn’t have asked me out a second time if he didn’t. I went up to bed and dreamed not of him or of Father’s reaction when he learned who would soon be sleeping with his son, but of a tall, dark stranger who stood between me and Andrew, almost as if warning me to find another lover.