To Defend a Damaged Duke by Fearne Hill

Author:Fearne Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: historical romance, gay, UK, aristocracy, rich man/poor man, second chance romance, hurt-comfort, humorous, slow burn, reunited, opposites attract, scoundrels, brothel owner, horses, horse racing, scheming ingenues
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2025-05-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

STEP ONE OF public rakery commenced the following day with Rossingley strong-arming Benedict into his tailors on Clifford Street. It was the sort of expedition that, if it held any redeeming qualities, Benedict had yet to glean them.

Private rakery, on the other hand, had much to commend it. However, Francis’s teasing as Benedict had helped himself to an ungodly amount of ham at breakfast made him wonder exactly how private his spooning with Tommy had truly been and also to ponder whether Lyndon wasn’t his only brother adept at listening at doors.

As he trailed after Rossingley, feeling like a duckling shadowing its mother, Benedict replayed his intimacies with Tommy. His own behaviour had confused him. Faced with Tommy’s beauty, his impulse was to possess it, to give it weight. To order it about! All the odder as it warred with his weak nature in every other aspect of his life. And that Tommy—clever, experienced, controlled Tommy—had gifted himself so pliantly was…

“Shield your eyes, my darling. These are not for you.”

Truly in his element, Rossingley swept past fifty shades of charcoal grey cloth as though they weren’t there. Wasting no time in ordering the tailor’s apprentice to tidy them away, he proceeded to issue a lengthy prescription for all manner of garments and in a rainbow of colours and fabrics. Benedict prayed his friend was making some opportunistic purchases of his own. Alas, no.

For several long minutes, the earl fingered a length of emerald-green before laying it over a bolt of dazzling fuchsia-coloured silk. Nervously, Benedict waited. “Adds an air of assurance to any neutral palette,” the earl commented finally. “Fuchsia is the new black, don’t you know.”

“I didn’t know,” Benedict hazarded, unsure whether a response was required.

A powder-blue and mud-brown waistcoat corseting the tailor’s dummy snagged Rossingley’s attention. Benedict held his breath. Already, he’d spent longer in the outfitters than his last three previous trips combined. With a wave of his elegant hand, Rossingley dismissed the waistcoat. Benedict breathed out.

“If that isn’t proof those two colours should never be seen together, then I don’t know what is,” the earl declared.

Rossingley studied Benedict as the apprentice scuttled over to remove the offending palette. “A light shade of bilberry would be an excellent choice for you, darling, if only we could find the right one. I’m not saying for a minute that you’re not ravishing in slate grey and black.” He treated Benedict to the kind of smile that reduced him to a blushing youth again. “Far from it. But a pop of colour will ensure you are so much more welcoming.”

Before Benedict could mutter something about disliking the tartness of bilberries or, indeed, appearing welcoming, Rossingley pounced on a bolt of cloth named something or other complicated and tapped on it.

“Yes! This is perfect. It will effortlessly bring out the deep tones in your complexion and provide a most alluring look.” Stretching the cloth out, he sighed. “You are lucky you can get away with it, Ashington. My dear Kit carries these shades off marvellously too.

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