*Flowers and Bees • 2
*This is an alternate version of the previous chapter for James and Charles, via request of the readers. It is not a part of the main story of Prejudice and Pride.
Nsfw sexual content featured. 18+
“Please tell me he’s appalling,” James quipped. “Warts and thinning hair, the works.”
The Meryton assembly moved around them, a great hive of activity fueled by music and beer and wine. James and his sister huddled with their oldest friend, Charlotte, who held a dark glimmer in her eye. The mischief of being privy to knowledge before others.
Jane laughed but scolded. “If mother has her way, one of us is to marry him! Don’t curse us so.”
He cast a dubious look around them. “You lot put too much emphasis on the availability of husbands. These people are supposed to be the posh sort from London, yeah? If they’re not scared away from the noise, they’ll take one look at us and turn tail. Which either says a great deal about them or a great deal about us.”
James had already shed his jacket and waistcoat due to the heat of the room. He was sure he was beginning to shine with sweat as he finished, “It will be a blessing that they’re ugly. The sooner we may mind our own business.”
Charlotte held Jane’s arm within her own as the three of them moved out of the way of a crowd of adolescents excited over their first ball and night of drink. “He’s quite attractive, actually. His hair is the color of copper and he wore a fine blue coat atop his black horse.”
Jane’s brows lifted. “He must have come to have tea with you to know such detail?”
She nodded. “With papa, yes, but he was perfectly lovely to me. He’s quite young. He can’t be much older than you, Jane. And he loves to dance, he said this to me directly. We shan’t wait much longer before we see him here.”
James’ gaze wandered over the assembly, only partially listening to his sister and Charlotte’s discussion on how many people this Bingley was arriving with.
“Oh,” Charlotte’s brows furrowed while she recollected. “I can’t be sure. As soon as he left us he supposedly rode back to London to bring more people to Netherfield. Charles spoke of his sisters and a cousin.”
“You are on a first name acquaintance with him,” Jane laughed. “Do not reveal this disclosure to our mother. How large is his family?”
“There are six. He and his five sisters. I know nothing of the cousin.”
“Oh!” Jane smiled. “He is quite like you, Jamie. If only your hair had more assam instead of honey in it.”
He shrugged, sharing her smile. “One sister more than me. He has me beat.”
Jane reached behind Charlotte to rake her fingers through his honey brown hair, the silken, floppy tresses long enough to tuck behind his ear but short enough to fall back around his face. He felt Charlotte’s hand on his arm. “Well, if the rest of the Bingleys are like the Bennets, the rest of us will be blinded by your beautiful families.”
James guffawed. “A set of bumpkins among London’s glossy breed. I think we should place our wages in how long it takes them to kick dirt up in their haste to leave.”
“Lizzy,” Jane scolded. “Why would you say that? We haven’t even met them.”
“But papa has.”
“That means nothing. He is an old man who prefers the solitude of his library than the science of truly studying and understanding people. Anyhow, both he and the Lucases seem to think well of Charles Bingley.”
“Out of the seven of us, he is the only one who has been to London,” James reminded. “Perhaps his observations and studies have driven him to the library’s solitude.”
“Oh Jamie,” she sighed, and gently shoved his head. “You’re speaking like an old man too soon. Let us be children one more night.”
Charlotte concurred. “I may see the end of my twenties more clearly than either of you but I will drink to that. Let’s find the wine.”
The gentleman standing sentinel beside the wine poured a sweet red for James while Jane and Charlotte preferred a crisp white. James lifted the crimson fluid to his lips, the glass edge indenting his flesh, and it was in this moment the doors to the assembly opened. Heads lifted from wine and conversation. No one could have said whether music still played or not, so invested were they in who was arriving last.
Charles Bingley was easy enough to select from the rather small group. Indeed red of hair, he stood lithe and elegantly among them, tall enough to pick out easily. James observed him with some impressed peculiarity; the man seemed buoyant at being there, his smile far from the poorly concealed grimaces his companions wore.
James heard Charlotte whisper to Jane, “His two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and…I do not know the other man.”
As befitting their station, a herald announced, “Mr. Charles Bingley, accompanied by Lord Fitzwilliam Darcy, Miss Caroline Bingley, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst.”
“Lord?” Mary voiced, suddenly on James’ other side. “The Darcy fellow is a lord?”
“A small one, surely,” Jane supplied. “Otherwise we’d know of him?”
“Pretty pets of a lord,” James appraised the Bingleys.
“For Christ’s sake, Lizzy,” Charlotte hissed.
“I don’t think he has much to do with this,” he disagreed.
“Darcy is heir of Pemberley, so do behave yourself,” she countered, and the group of them fell silent. Pretty pets indeed, James thought inwardly. Pemberley was one of the most prominent estates in England. Even they, in their rural ignorance, knew of the Derbyshire home.
James felt his sisters’ hands on the back of his tucked shirt, grounded. He had certainly not been the only gentleman to remove his outer garments, but the assembly collectively contrasted the layered, lustrous fabrics of the newcomers. Mr. Bingley wore the telltale blue coat, glimmering on the shoulders in the chandelier’s glow. He was good looking and gentlemanly with his copper hair that matched his sisters’; he had a pleasant countenance and easy, unaffected manners. James could see that immediately in how he grinned and shook the assembly manager’s hand, the very image of old friends despite this being their first meeting.
He wondered how genuine those behaviors were. James would not have been surprised if it were a smart skill, charisma, however if the brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, and the sisters were any indication, the consideration was spared for lower beings. The sisters touched hands only when absolutely necessary and as little as possible. Mr. Hurst bowed and bestowed all the appropriate pleasantries, but moved his eyes elsewhere all the while instead of giving the subject proper attention.
Like flowers observing the bees’ goings-on, the Bennets stood together. The attention of the room was fixed, of course, on the richest man there. Tall and admittedly handsome, Lord Darcy commanded his silent presence with brooding mastery.
James heard Kitty say behind him, “They’re so…bright.”
Indeed, the only Bingley sibling to have darker hair was the married Mrs. Hurst, whose hair was a shining auburn. Their raiment was certainly fine and better pressed in comparison to the disheveled company.
Mrs. Bennet stood arm in arm with Kitty, relaying, “My word, between the two of them, there is fifteen thousand a year in this room—Don’t you dare draw attention to ourselves!”
James and the others had swiveled immediately at her words, and then weathered through the beating of her fan upon them. She fervently fanned herself, hiding as she elaborated, “Supposedly Lord Darcy is the ten and Bingley is the fiver. Regardless, Jane, you will certainly have your pick of abundance.”
“Mama…” Jane whined, or at least as much as she allowed herself. James took his sister’s arm and led her around the room, both to escape Mrs. Bennet’s expectations as well as to observe—and good timing too, for no sooner had they stepped away, then Mr. Bingley recognized Charlotte and asked her for a dance.
He was good at dancing. He was good at talking too. Mr. Bingley had soon made himself acquainted with all the principal people in the room. He proved lively and unreserved as he appeared determined to dance every melody struck up by the orchestra. After his first dance with Charlotte, however, Mr. Bennet succeeded in drawing him over to meet his family. The other Bingley, Darcy, and Hursts joined them, even if it looked like practiced obligation.
Mr. Bennet began, “It is my pleasure to introduce my Mrs. Bennet, and our five children. The eldest, Jane, James, Mary, Katherine, and of course, Lydia.”
“Charles Bingley,” he smiled with a hand on his chest. “Charles, please.”
He kissed Jane’s hand first and then shook James’s while the members of his party chose to introduce themselves individually. Mr. Darcy noticeably remained on the outskirts of their circle, silently watching the ballroom’s goings on. Mrs. Hurst was kind but collected whereas Caroline’s hand felt limp and ready to be pulled back when James bowed to kiss its surface. Her hand parted from his without contact of his mouth as if they had silently agreed upon it. Her topic of conversation afterward cemented his disinterest.
“It is quite dark and stuffy in here. Has no one thought of rebuilding the place with less wood? You are brave folk to have so many candles in such a place. You can see the tails of smoke among the rafters.”
He smiled kindly and left her in favor of Bingley’s company, which was diametric. “This is extraordinary!” he all but sang. “There is never anything like this in London. You’re even free to remove your waistcoats here!”
His blue eyes landed on James, who laughed congenially. “Perhaps not that you noticed, for it is hardly proper, I assure you. Give my mother a moment to notice and she will scold me.”
Charles’ grin never faded, even while Mr. Darcy stood like a sentinel shadow beside him. He leaned forward to say as if in confidence, “I shan’t catalyze your punishment. Simply allow me to voice my jealousy.”
James felt his lips matching that smile. Charles was making it difficult to find a fault in the man—
Mr. Darcy said, “A punishment is hardly what one would receive at a London engagement. Lacking the pieces of appropriate attire would bar the individual from entering the assembly entirely.”
James’ brows reached for his hairline as he brought his glass to his lips to hide his keen smile. He twisted on the ball of his foot, giving a silent good luck to his sisters as he pulled Charlotte with him under the excuse of a dance.
To his surprise, Charles and Jane lined up next to them as the music began. Not a minute must have passed but they exchanged nods and the music commenced. It started with the four of them each grasping hands to turn in a circle. Charles made a point to say, “I apologize for him.”
The four broke into their separate pairs but when they rejoined, James inquired, “You needn’t give apologies for him. I can’t say I am surprised anyhow.”
Charles guffawed but was unable to reply until their next joining. “Are you so skeptical of us? What reputation has London citizenry created for itself?”
Charlotte cut in with a warning look to James, “Not an altogether negative impression, I assure you.”
Charles impressed James by shaking his head. “I don’t buy that for a moment, but I will have to scold my companion later. He is not even native to London. He hasn’t any excuse.”
“No scolding is necessary, as there’s been a misunderstanding,” James supplied.
Charles beamed as they broke apart but the dance ended a moment later. “You are compassionate to say so but I don’t think the man’s temperament will improve much, which is at my fault. If Darcy was not staying with me in Netherfield, I doubt he would have come tonight.”
“I hope I do not darken your impression of me,” James laughed, “but I haven’t any desire to discover anything more from the man.”
Even in this, Charles’ smile did not tarnish. If anything, it shined brighter. “Coming to Netherfield is proving deliciously refreshing with every moment. The air is rich and I far prefer your wicked honesty. As if London’s elite did not have enough money, they flock around Darcy like insects in this heat. Speaking of, how aren’t there any flies?”
Charlotte tapped her nose. “Smell the cedar? Mosquitos loathe the odour.”
“I did not see any bonfires outside, though,” he voiced.
She turned to point at the large tapers as thick as a man’s arm on either end of the room as well as beside the entrances. Charles’ eyes widened with curiosity. “You mean, those candles have the scent within the wax?”
“Yes,” Charlotte smiled and gestured to James—
“Charles.”
The quiet yet smooth baritone took James by surprise as he and Charles turned to face Mr. Darcy. “A word,” he requested tersely.
He clearly expected for Bingley to follow since he turned and they watched those dark shoulders silently part the crowd. Bingley squeezed Jane’s hand consolingly and leaned towards James. “He hates being left alone, especially among people.” He winked, and left them.
James’ gaze lingered before he shared with Charlotte, “They’re an odd pair, though I suppose there is something to be said for opposites.”
Her eyes brightened. “You think so? I hadn’t considered…”
Jane voiced with a mixture of mirth and wariness, “Mama won’t like to hear of five or ten thousand being unavailable.”
James intercepted, “Lord Darcy has good taste, I’ll grant him that. Mr. Bingley seems like the nicest of the lot. He takes spoiling with better grace than his sisters—”
Lydia appeared beside Jane in that moment. Her mouth opened, and then closed, clearly not seeing the intention of her arrival. “Where’s he gone?”
“Mr. Darcy wished to have a word,” Jane provided.
“Oh him,” Lydia scoffed. She rested her chin on James’ shoulder. He felt the sweat of her cheek against his own and gently leaned his head back against her curly hair. “None of us will get a crack at Bingley if Darcy keeps standing around him.”
Her elder siblings shared a stunned look. “You’ve set your sights high,” James appraised.
“And why not? I’m out to society and there are larger age gaps in this very room.”
James smirked at Charlotte. “I don’t think anyone’s getting a crack at Bingley but he’ll be nice to look at for the evening.”
Resigned, she nuzzled against him and cooed, “Lizzy, will you let me taste your wine?”
He turned his head to kiss her hair. “No.”
She pouted, “Why? Kitty’s but a year older than me and she has a glass.”
“And it is one of the few occasions she has something before you. Mother is too lenient with you.”
He grimaced against the wet raspberry she kissed against his cheek. “Why shouldn’t I be pampered? I’m the youngest.”
“Congratulations.”
She giggled and hugged his middle while he drained the glass. “Is it difficult being the only boy, Lizzy?”
He inhaled slowly for a long sigh, and then, “It’s only difficult being brother to you, Lydia. Your hair takes up too much space.”
“OH!” she growled, her hands curling to tickle his sides but her arms loosened and he took off through the assembly with her on his heels.
“Lizzy! Lydia!” they heard Mrs. Bennet all but scream, however a new song was striking upon the orchestra’s strings. James stopped instantaneously and caught his sister’s momentum to turn it into the first turns of the dance. To his surprise, Charles had returned and asked Jane for a second dance, and further along the line, was Mr. Darcy with Mrs. Hurst.
“What a surprise,” Lydia commented when she noticed where his eyes were. “Mr. Bingley is getting on well with Jane, though.”
Mr. Bingley seemed to get on with everyone, as the pairs standing between them obligingly moved so he and Jane once more danced beside James and his partner. As James observed from the corner of his eye, he knew Jane was enjoying having been asked twice, but it was Charles’ contagious merriment that made laughing and conversing with him easy.
When the dance was finished, Lydia hugged her brother but scolded, “Not another one! There are so few gentlemen here, I must spare them each a dance.”
“Thank you for taking me into such brief consideration,” James scoffed, but lent her his handkerchief for her to wipe her face while he departed for a fresh glass of wine. A low voice drew his attention to the end of the table, where Mr. Darcy had pulled Bingley aside again.
“Won’t you dance with us again?” Charles insisted.
“I will not,” his companion refused.
“Come, William,” he said with more urgency. “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing by yourself in this stupid manner. Much better to dance and play at enjoying yourself. You may well surprise yourself by actually doing so.”
“You know I think too highly of you, Charles, to lie in such a way. I yet refuse. You know I detest it, unless I am well acquainted with my partner. At an assembly such as this, it would be a punishment to me to stand up with any other woman in the room.”
Bingley scoffed, “Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life as I have this evening; and there are several you must agree are uncommonly pretty.”
“You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room,” Darcy replied. James peeked at the gentlemen to see them looking at Jane, who was currently with Mrs. Bennet.
Charles agreed wistfully, “She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld.”
“Then you had best return to her and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”
Charles caught his arm before he could turn away fully. “Disagree with me all you like, but I brought you here for your betterment. You must interact with the waking world. This is an invigorating change of people, I promise you. Please. If not the women then perhaps the second Bennet?”
Darcy recoiled somewhat. “You mean I should dance with a man?”
Charles guffawed. “Perhaps at the end of the night when the wine barrels have emptied, but I meant for you to appeal to him for conversation. His tongue may prove as sharp as yours. You could use the competition.”
“Mr. Darcy.”
The pair perked up for Caroline Bingley’s interruption. “Won’t you share a dance with me?”
Darcy seemed to consider it and then answered, “Of course.”
Charles made an exhausted sound and exhibited the first amount of annoyance James had yet seen. “Oh, acquainted enough, are you?”
“Charles—”
“No, no,” he waved them away. “We’ve had this discussion too many times for the end result to change.”
He moved to make his way along the trestle table, and James rotated quickly so to not appear the eavesdropper, although he soon felt a hand on his shoulder blade.
“James!” Charles greeted with a fresh breath. “You are not dancing? I estimated more ladies than men present. We are needed.”
James was impressed by the man’s gallantry, then, as he was pulled toward his own mother. Charles asked Mrs. Bennet for a dance, which had her floundering and only too eager for the music to begin. James invited one of the Long daughters for the dance to appease Charles’ insistence. He could not help but observe his and Darcy’s forceful neglect of one another during the dance.
Afterward, James drew Charles toward the entrance for some fresh air. “Is my face horribly red?” he laughed, sipping the crisp white wine.
“Yes,” James smiled, “but it should be cooler at this time of night.”
Charles gasped as the night air encompassed them like a cloak, all darkness and muffled silence from the noise within. “I needed this. Thank you, James. Why does your family call you Lizzy? If I may ask.”
James sipped his red with a shrug. “My middle name is Elizabeth.”
“Ah!” Bingley nodded. “That explains it. You know, I can’t imagine returning inside for many moments. It’s unbelievable how warm it is in the company of so many.”
“And with such activity,” James agreed.
“Would you walk with me?”
James did, closely watching the rouge of his cheeks as Charles led them along a path beside the carriages. There was a moment of silence, and then he seemed to arrive at the decision that he was free to undo his cravat. “It’s soaked,” he breathed, for no one’s ears in particular as he rolled it up for a pocket.
“Wait a while before you remove your jacket, lest you invite illness,” James suggested.
Charles nodded as well as gestured to one of the horses they were coming upon. “Darcy gave this one to me.”
James gave the black steed a lackadaisical once over. “A fine mount.”
For whatever reason, Charles laughed. “A stubborn beast, like the master who bestowed him to me.”
James smirked but kept his thoughts to himself. “I am sorry he is in intolerable spirits tonight. I imagine our assemblies are far from his usual sort of company.”
Charles made an indignant sound and waved that aside. “He doesn’t know what sort of company he likes.”
“He likes you.”
“What’s not to like?” Charles teased, and then disclaimed, “No, no…”
“A fine match,” James encouraged, “so long as he makes you happy.”
Charles had fallen silent, inducing the former to apologize, “I’m sorry. You don’t want to talk about him—”
“We aren’t together.”
James met his gaze and realized those bright eyes were scrutinizing him through the drunken glaze. A smile flashed on his face. “I’ve known him for years, that’s all. So…no, I don’t want to talk about him.”
James felt involuntary heat rush into his face as he realized how intrusive he had just been. “I’m so sorry. You just seemed close—of course I…I’ve been entirely indecorous.”
Charles caught him off guard by laughing. “That’s what you meant earlier by a ‘misunderstanding’? Well I won’t tell William that he’s lost the interest of the most enthralling man in attendance. Frankly, I’m shocked. You didn’t notice me…getting close to you? I’ve removed my cravat for you and my efforts are wasted!”
James bubbled with giggles as he covered his eyes. “Well you can hardly blame me. Do you know how many women were ready to pounce upon you?”
Without really thinking about it, James let his arm fall within the crook of Bingley’s. The two of them were of similar height and strolled easily past the mares and stallions.
“You seem to have finally relaxed with me,” Charles said. His tone was unique, as if he meant to say thank you.
“Oh, well, now that I know you’ve come to ruin the hearts of innocent bumpkins, I can be thoroughly rude to you.”
“Ha ha! Good! Smaller talk is exhausting, but I must defend myself. I haven’t any intention of ruination. I am a gentleman through and through.”
He pulled James with renewed vigor along the path. “Where does this lead?”
“Out of Meryton,” James smiled. “Eventually to Netherfield.”
“Ah,” Bingley hummed, and turned them back toward the assembly. “I would never hear the end of it if I were to leave without my sisters. Darcy would certainly care, though he would glare in silence. That is both a treat and a nuisance of his character.”
“You may understand, though, how I made my mistake. He is very protective of you.”
“He considers me gullible,” Bingley moaned.
“What would have given him that estimation?”
“Given your earlier comment on how I was susceptible to the female population of the room, I believe you’re being snide with me, Mr. Bennet.”
James smirked. “I’ll give you the affirmative, as it seems you are quick to know people. But I wonder if you thought your insistence was the reason for his being here, when actually he cares very much.”
James realized his blunder too late. Charles’s shoes scraped the gravel in his halt. “Aha! I knew you were listening to us,” he beamed. “What a treat!”
“I have four sisters, Mr. Bingley,” James reminded. “Eavesdropping becomes a thoughtless habit. I did not have malicious intentions—”
His words were waved aside. “Peace, please. I have sisters, myself, don’t I? I know how curiosity and eavesdropping become second nature. I am merely reveling in being suddenly free with someone. Call me Charles, James…or do I have the liberty to use Lizzy?”
Laughter burst from James’ mouth as they strolled around the assembly building. The occasional apple tree stood in the grove around them. “You do move quickly.”
“Is it reserved for intimate family?”
James took his time answering. It was another moment before he decided, “Intimate. Not necessarily family.”
“Jamie,” Charles decided while giving his best attempt at scolding. “It has been only an evening, but I sense a keen friendship in you.”
“I must inquire how much wine you’ve had,” he chuckled.
“No more than you,” Charles proclaimed as he reached for James’ face. James’ breath paused in his throat as those fingers dusted over his cheek. “Does it matter?”
“This would be why Darcy calls you gullible.”
“Hm?”
Perhaps it was James’s not pushing him away, or it was the haze of alcohol that kept Charles’ fingers on his face, moving his hair behind his ear. “Your own charm works against you. Do you know how many women are inside watching the doors for your return?”
Charles chuckled, looking just about everywhere on James’ face. Especially his lips. “I am not completely unaware. It is a consequence of my station in life.”
“How torturing.”
Charles nearly bowed over with his mirth. “Yes! Give me some credit. I managed to escape out here with you. You don’t have claws to dig into me, do you?”
“I seem to recall it as me enabling your escape, not so much your idea. But I prefer a gentle touch to my romantic dalliances.”
“Mm,” he hummed. “Being gentle or gentled?”
James guffawed. “You are bold, sir!”
“And do you have many? Dalliances?”
His hand lowered to James’ shoulder, sliding over his front as he took his time to answer. “No. Not for a while.”
“A while? Heartache?”
“Perhaps. At what age do we feel love or merely infatuation?”
Those ruddy lashes fell over his clear blue eyes as he seemed to think on something he had ruminated many times over. “Love or not, it has been a luxury no one in or above my station seems able to afford. I suppose I decided a long time ago I already had the money and prestige because of my family. I would want the love for myself. I wanted this much to be within my control. Do I sound mad?”
He gripped Charles’ upper arms to help him stand. He only meant to hold Charles steady, but he felt the pads of fingers beneath his chin, and then James realized there was a faint dusting of freckles on Charles’ nose.
“Yes,” James replied. “Thank Christ.”
Charles hummed when James took his mouth, the moan fading and rolling as he fell into James’ kiss. His lips were soft, and he tasted like white wine. From his hair came the scents of jasmine and lemon. The kiss was long and exploring, but before James’ mind could catch up, Charles’ forehead rested against his and he was speaking.
“How long can madness last?”
He moaned again as James captured his lips and turned his waist so Charles’ back was to the building. James realized he was slightly shorter as Charles’ arms slid past his shoulders. He liked the difference; Charles’ height made it easier to catch his kisses. He received James’ body pressed against his own, slouching with wanton allowance as James’ hands fit under his waistcoat.
One of those hands lifted to carefully hold his chin as James pressed lingering kisses across his face. “Answer me seriously. How much wine have you had? Or this madness will only last this night.”
Charles’ cheek pressed against his in passing as he turned his head to meet his eyes. “So it could go on for more than a night?”
James smiled between kisses to the side of his lips. “I’m flattered, but I wonder if we should think more at how far our adventure might go.”
James felt himself held tighter in Charles’ arms. “If your time remains as sweet as what you’ve given me, then I’m interested. Your attentiveness gives you away, Jamie. You’re delicious and generous.”
A spiral of sensation raced from the ear between Charles’ teeth, to James’ groin. Hands slid over the mounds of his ass, kneading and teasingly sliding up the seam of his trousers. He realized he was holding his breath before he inhaled and raggedly cast the air out as he collapsed against Charles’ shoulder. It was Charles, though, who laughed huskily when a hand moved over his cock.
“A shame we can’t wash first.”
His jaw went slack as James lowered to his knees. The aroma of clean linen and wool wafted from him until James opened his garments and his senses filled with Charles. Reaching between the folds of his underthings, James carefully pulled out the ready penis within. Pink and swollen, he tasted the head and moved over the shaft. Charles’ sighs and moans encouraged him to lavish the tip while a hand pumped over him.
“James. James!”
Seed spilled onto his shirt while he wiped his mouth on a thigh, squeezing the slope of the leg sculpted from horse riding. “I do hope you don’t usually finish this quickly.”
“Hotel?” Charles suggested.
“The one here? A gentleman using a hotel when he’s rented Netherfield will surely be discussed over everyone’s breakfast.”
He closed the trousers as the former asked, “Is your home far?”
“No. We are neighbors.”
“Oh, that’s right.”
“But I share a room with my sister.”
“Really?” Charles wondered and then frowned.
“Concerned about yours?” James guessed.
Charles seemed to deliberate on it for some time. Long enough for James to reach for his hands to guide him back inside—
Charles lunged forward, causing Jamie to sway and open himself to that eager tongue. Charles’ hands framed his face, having his way until he parted enough to proclaim, “I’m so glad I rode my horse.”
“Hm,” James hummed vacantly, his eyes still closed.
“Will you come home with me?”
“I’m not exactly a horseman,” he warned. His eyes pried open to see Charles’ smile.
“Just hold onto me.”
James matched it with a goofy upturn of his lips. “If you insist,” he purred as they excused themselves from the assembly altogether.
* * * * * * *
James had never been to Netherfield via invitation. Much less under such circumstances.
After the initial trial of riding behind Charles on his saddle, the interaction with the footmen and butler seemed a blur. Thankfully the jostling of his undercarriage was relieved as Charles pulled him within a bedroom already glowing with firelight. His hands were on James’ chest when the latter stilled.
“How many have tendency to stroll along the terrace?” His eyes were on the French doors on the other side of the room.
“At this time of night? But I’ll close the curtains, if you like.”
He did not wait for a reply as he went to close the mauve curtains embroidered with a design James was too preoccupied to appreciate. Charles twirled around at the sound of James’ voice, bright-eyed as ever.
“Do you have lubricant?”
“Oh somewhere,” he purred as he went to the armoire. The two doors opened, one side hung with garments and the other stacked with drawers, through which he sifted. He lifted a phial of soft golden fluid. “It’s not much—”
James came behind him, closing an arm around him while the other folded around Charles’ fingers on the bottle. “It’s enough,” he kissed his hair.
Charles rotated to claim his mouth, and James released a sound of relief to feel those lips again so soon…
Charles parted, leaving his mouth wet and open. “May we wash?”
James blinked dumbly. “Yourhmm reallyset onthat.”
Charles guffawed from his place beside the washbasin. “Pardon me from interrupting your plans. I can’t stand being in bed with sweat on my skin.”
“You might want to wait, then.”
Charles sauntered back to him with a cloth dripping. “Let me wash the ball off before I have you on me.”
The kiss he pecked to James’ lips was tender and familiar before he left him to watch his pale and auburn coloring slowly emerge in the firelight. James likewise shed his layers, not wanting to be inhospitable as he found a cloth to wash himself.
“You’re staring.”
Charles visibly struggled to pull his gaze from James’ erection, and struggled further as his eyes caught on places along James’s body. “You’re…a fine form, Jamie.”
James snorted as he looked down at himself. “What little testament I have for living on a farm.”
Charles approached him, inducing James to straighten from his position of washing his groin. His hands were pulled from himself for Charles to turn his hands over. “But your hands are soft.”
“All of me is soft.”
Charles giggled and kissed him again, more and more easily. James liked the comfort of his lips. “Not quite. But you don’t work often?”
He did not seem overly eager for an answer as he let James take his mouth while a shoulder rolled back for him to clean the valley of his ass. “If you’re really curious, you may visit.”
That sparked a reaction out of him. Something in James’ torso bobbed in the wake of those blue eyes pouring into him. “Really? I won’t be a bother?”
James blinked, and then snorted into his hand. “You’re serious!”
“Aren’t you?” he frowned.
“Sure, but I suppose I wasn’t truly expecting you to accept the offer.”
James really liked being pulled by his waist, feeling Charles’ rising member against his leg as plush lips trailed over his neck, his shoulder. “I’ll never turn down wonderful company.”
They kissed for a time, tasting and lavishing each other while hands explored. Charles liked the slope of James’ back to his arse. He bowed his head to kiss his shoulders, his chest, while a hand slid up his cock.
“Are you ready?”
Charles nodded and they went to the bed. James paused with a knee on the covers as he opened the phial. Charles watched from where he was poised on his elbow, moving a hand over himself as Jamie pushed oil inside. He glanced at the half-empty bottle when James came to straddle him. “You’re ready?”
“I’ll make every drop count,” he assured as he slid oiled hands over Charles. His arms fell around his head, causing James to smile unbeknown to himself. That beautiful copper hair was thoroughly ruined. He would have to warn Charles to put some effort into it before he graced his sisters’ presence.
“What?” Charles asked when his gaze lingered.
“Your hair looks better mussed than combed,” James voiced quietly.
He only saw a bit of that grin before he bowed over Charles’ ribs, taking a pink nipple into his mouth. He kissed his ribs—
“Jamie,” he beckoned, out of breath.
“There’s so much to do,” the former teased, both coyly and out of genuine distress. He wanted to touch all of him.
“Later. Do this now.”
James lifted and held Charles’ cock while he sat over him. Charles’ hooded eyes dragged between his face and where they were joined, his chest rising and falling. His fingers gripped the pillow around him as he sighed a weak cry when James moved. He tried to move a hand to his thigh while James held his torso, rising and falling, liking the involuntary sounds Charles made when he rolled his hips, moving him on the bed.
“James, I…I hate to interrupt…”
“Hm?” he encouraged, picking up that hand and lacing their fingers together.
“I want you inside me.”
James’ lashes lifted, thoroughly taken by surprise. “You’ll have me do all the work, then.”
Charles’ other hand covered his eyes as he was overcome with mirth. “Yes!” he finally admitted, “Yes, I would.”
James felt wet and empty as Charles turned over. He looked back as James opened the bottle once more. “Waste not.”
James smirked and bit a pale cheek. The result was less precise and more impatient, but James carefully pushed himself into Charles, only to fumble when he heard a breathless, “How gentle can you be while not being so?”
“Ah!” James all but squawked, catching himself on either side of him. “What are you saying?”
A low chuckle was his reply before Charles pushed himself over his cock and lifted enough to kiss him. Between his lips and the press of his soft ass, James almost did not hear, “Perhaps I want to feel you long enough to yearn again.”
James’ hands moved around him, touching him all over until his fingers were in Charles’ hair. He tossed the pillow off the bed so the flat mattress allowed him more freedom to breathe when James pushed him down. While his pace was quick, he took intervals to fluidly roll into him. His hand dragged over his scalp, massaging instead of pulling so Charles was awash in tingles.
“Your hair’s so soft,” James huffed raggedly. Charles could hear his climax in his voice.
Pull it. The words were in his mouth, but then James was over him, yanking his hair so he felt his ear against James’ hot cheek. He had been so careful about noise, but now his thrusts slapped against his ass, driving Charles to his blissful oblivion.
* * * * * * *
Geese honks were what pulled him out of his slumber. The room was cut in half by dawn’s blue light sliding through the curtains.
Charles inhaled, shifting slightly as his mind became aware of the body next to him. James was nestled close, his face resting above his shoulder while the rest of him was pressed against Charles. Parts of him slowly woke up: his parched throat and chapped lips. The soreness throughout his body making his limbs feel like gently throbbing honey.
James’ breathing changed with the sounds of the geese outside. His eyes opened and he slowly pieced together his surroundings. “It’s sunrise,” Charles whispered.
That seemed to tear sleep from him as James leaned away and scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “How do you ever rise with those curtains?”
“The geese do better than the chickens at announcing the dawn.” He rolled over to face James, and knew he had but moments before James began to dress. “Is it forward to ask you to break your fast here?”
James looked at him with groggy eyes, but there was warmth there. “No, but I’d rather not face the rest of your house.”
“Mm,” he understood. “You may use the carriage.”
James shook his head. “I’ll walk. I like to walk.”
Charles simply nodded as they fell silent. He did not know what to do as James left the bed to dress, so he remained there and pursed his lips to the side in thought. Eventually he could only ask, “I suppose…the invitation to see your farm may no longer be available?”
James looked at him over the shirt he was shaking out. The he chuckled, “Oh, Mr. Bingley. To be sure, a mother with four single daughters won’t let a bachelor of a neighbor rest easily. And that’s excluding the rest of the county.”
His head popped out of the shirt, his hair in beautiful disarray. He haphazardly pushed it behind an ear as he came around the bed and sat beside him. “I only wonder if you’ll ever have the time for me again.”
His eyes slid closed when Jamie kissed him, his head tilting for more, to taste enough of him to remember all day.
His bottom lip plumped under Jamie’s teeth before he broke their kiss too soon. “Good morning, Charles.”
James kissed his cheek, and then was gone over the terrace.