Unchained by Ainsley Gray

Author:Ainsley Gray [Gray, Ainsley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: x-potion designs
Published: 2018-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

19

Noah is trying harder than he’s ever tried at anything in his life.

As the days turn into a week and then two, Noah forces himself to relinquish control on Edward’s behalf, again and again. He sits beside him on the bed and the settee in his den, permitting their hips and shoulders to touch. He reaches out to touch Edward now and again, affectionate and cautious, and he’s improved at not immediately jerking away when he wakes to Edward stroking his hair and back.

It’s exhausting, really, but he’s putting forth the effort and that is the most he can offer.

It has its rewards, and it does get easier.

When the help returns on their allotted days, Noah no longer feels so anxious. He’s taken to escorting Edward upstairs to the study, so that Amelia may clean the downstairs bedroom and he can lock them into his den with the excuse that he has work to tend to and is not to be disturbed. Noah even went so far as to purchase some new clothing for Edward, just a bit larger than his own, and similar enough that Amelia doesn’t notice she’s doing laundry for two instead of one.

What a rather twisted routine we’ve developed for ourselves, he wryly thinks on more than one occasion. Other than the occasional hopeful grin from Edward, accompanied by asking if Noah will unchain him yet, Edward utters barely a complaint over any of it.

During the day, Noah spends a few hours typing away at his desk while Edward lounges about nearby with a book or a game of solitaire. They cook their meals together, eat together, sleep together, play games together. The pair of them—and Mister, too—make quite the odd little family unit, and Noah almost, almost, convinces himself they truly could carry on like this indefinitely. He needn’t worry about Edward ever leaving.

It’s a false sense of security.

One that is shattered abruptly late one afternoon when the sound of an arriving carriage can be heard out front of the house, and two men come knocking.

They were in the midst of a game of chess, and the intrusion makes Noah’s spine go rigid and his expression darken and nervous in a way he’s not displayed in days. He isn’t expecting visitors. Wordless, he pushes back his chair and slips from the room, out into the foyer to answer the door.

Standing before him are two uniformed men. One tall and broad-shouldered, the other shorter than himself, skinny, squirrelly.

“Afternoon,” the larger one says. “I’m Constable Baker, this is Constable Peterson. Mr. Wilmington?”

Noah flashes a smile screwed tight at the edges. “Yes. How may I help you?”

Constable Peterson speaks with his chest puffed out as though it will make him appear larger than he is. “We’re looking for someone, a Mr. Yorke. Might we come in?”

Every pint of blood in Noah’s body has gone frigid. As he slowly steps back to grant them access, he casts a furtive glance towards the bedroom door.

“He’s been missing,” Peterson continues, throwing a look around as they duck into the foyer.

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