Chapter 4

"Sir, Count Rowland Sterling and Viscount Ashton Sterling are here to see you," Samuel stated from the doorway, shooting me his usual disdainful glare.

"Please, Samuel, show the gentlemen to the parlor. I'll be there in a moment. Oh, and send Maggie in with some sweetcakes as well," my master requested.

"Yes, my lord," Samuel acknowledged as he bowed his way back out of the room.

Master had been preparing for the counts arrival for the last hour. I could feel the nervous tension in his body, in the way he had yanked me around his office today.

Fortunately, Master had left me alone most of yesterday to recover. He'd been gentle so far today, even though he had dragged me down to his study to 'keep him company'. He'd been tense ever since he'd heard from one of his sentinels that the two lords were on their way.

His steward, Richard, had been stalking around the room, and leaning over Master's desk as well. They'd talked about shipments and storage, spouting lots of names I had probably heard before but didn't care about. I rested on my knees, maintaining position with my hands clasped loosely behind my back until Master had needed release.

He'd sent Richard off to check on something before grabbing my sore neck and pulling me closer. I untied his trousers as quickly as possible, pulling his thick cock from his undergarments. Instantly, his hand tightened in my hair, pressing me onto his engorged member. I managed to choke back my gag reflex before automatically working my mouth over him to bring him release as quickly as possible.

I was grateful that was all he wanted. I didn't think my body was quite ready for more, although I suspected I wouldn't have much more time to recover. As soon as his hot, bitter seed hit the back of my throat, I swallowed quickly, trying to keep as much of it from my tongue as possible. You'd think after so long I'd be immune to the taste—I wasn't. I didn't think I ever would be.

I immediately settled back, resting my ass cautiously against my heels. He re-laced his pants before roughly patting my cheek when he noticed I'd dropped back into position.

"Good boy. See you can behave," he'd praised.

That little bit of approval left me relaxed and hopeful that he'd stay in a good mood. Although these men coming seemed to make both Richard and Master a bit anxious.

"Come, Kye, let us greet our esteemed guests." Master beckoned me to follow him, and I rose fluidly, knowing I was transitioning to the role of amorato as soon as we stepped out of the privacy of the study. My bare feet padded after him, the loose silky trousers and billowy shirt made me look sensuous, just as Master intended.

"Lord Barrett," a tense, deep voice greeted my master as we entered. I peeked through the ashen strands blanketing my face to see the most beautiful two men I'd ever laid eyes on. Both of them offered a slight bow to my master.

Master draped his arm around my slight shoulders as he stepped over to greet the aristocrats. I knew why; he liked to show me off as his affectionate lover. Presenting myself as anything but would leave me hurting later, and I was already in too much pain for that, so I leaned into his side.

"My lords, welcome," he greeted easily. A maid appeared in the doorway with a silver tray, and he indicated for her to place it on the table by the two guests. My stomach cramped at the smell of the sweetcakes, and I tried to ignore them. The bread and cheese from this morning hadn't been quite enough to be fulfilling.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" Barrett waved his hand at Samuel who narrowed his eyes at me before heading to the small bar in the corner.

"No, thank you," the slightly shorter one politely declined for the both of them as they followed my master's indication to take a seat on the couch. I followed Master to the other couch, allowing him to pull into his side as he lounged back easily. I watched the other men carefully; the bigger one looked like he was straining to maintain his temper.

Still, by every god, they were gorgeous. I was shocked by the odd stirring in my belly at the sight of them, especially the darker, broodier looking one. I swallowed the lump in my throat, praying Master didn't notice my reaction.

I suspected they were in their twenties. Their chestnut hair was cut short, framing their strong similar jaws, and their cinnamon eyes struck me as somewhat familiar, however, I couldn't fathom why. I was quite certain I'd remember if I'd met these men before.

"We aren't here to socialize," the rigid noble stated.

"What my brother Ashton is trying to say, my lord Barrett," the one in the gray suit stated, "is that we aren't here for pleasantries."

"Oh?" I heard my master feign ignorance, as he dismissed Samuel with a wave. "Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"You know what, you base-court maggot," the one in the black suit snarled, causing me to cringe at his tone. He was obviously the more temperamental of the two brothers. It figured the one that made my pulse race the most was as scary as my master.

"Shhh, pet." My master stroked my hip, slipping his hand down my thigh in a gesture of reassurance, yet it came across as anything but that. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Now Lord Ashton, there's no need for that language. You're scaring my companion."

"I don't give a devil what your whore thinks!" I winced at the handsome man's words, praying to sink into the sofa and disappear from his sight.

"Ash!" Lord Rowland admonished sharply, managing to curb his brother's temper. "Leave the boy alone. He's not part of this."

"He is if he's here," Ashton mumbled.

I tried to block out the words as I often did when my master insisted on bringing me to these "meetings" of his. He said it kept things calmer, lighter, more relaxed. I simply didn't care. I didn't want to hear about any of his nefarious dealings. And apparently, these two gentlemen were here to confront my master on them.

"What he knows is not your concern. He is my amorato, my companion, and you are out of order, Lord Ashton," Barrett said darkly.

"We apologize," Rowland said quickly, shooting a scathing look at his brother. "We meant no offense to your... companion."

"I think the Viscount needs to make his apologies directly to Kye," Barrett stated sharply.

The broad-shouldered man huffed irritably, obviously not interested in humoring my master. I wished they'd all just stop talking about me and finish with their damn meeting. Maybe if I focused on the sweetcakes instead, even if that meant tormenting my belly...

"My apologies, young man," Ashton bit out.

The fingers gripping my neck silently told me to respond. I looked up from under my long fringe hiding my eyes, slipping on my most enticing, charming smile.

"Thank you, sir. That is most kind." My voice came out husky from little use.

My master smirked, obviously pleased at being able to degrade the other noble into offering apologies to a paramour, a whore. "Are you well now, my pretty little Kye?" Master breathed seductively against my ear, and I shivered at the endearment. My stomach cramped remembering when he'd said that after I'd lost control during my endurance training.

I nodded quickly against his chest, knowing he probably didn't want a verbal answer to his question.

Before anyone could say anything else, a knock at the parlor door interrupted them. I heard an annoyed sigh come from across the room as my master called, "Enter."

Richard opened the door. "Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt. However, I need to speak with you about an urgent matter. It won't take but a moment, sir."

"I see. Well, if you'll excuse me a moment, gentlemen..."

"Of course," the kinder gentleman stated as his brother clenched his fists.

Master rose easily from the couch, and I followed him out of habit. "Kye, why don't you see if you can help make our guests more comfortable?"

I froze for only a second. He'd had me entertain guests before; I just hadn't expected it with the counts, considering the tumultuous nature of the meeting. I nodded quickly as he exited. Drawing a breath, I turned to the two men fluidly, dropping easily to my knees between them.

"Is there anything I can do for you, my lords?" I asked.

Both of them looked at me in mild surprise, and maybe a bit of disgust, when my knees brushed theirs as I kneeled.

"No, boy, just go back to looking pretty on your couch over there," Lord Ashton ordered, waving back to the other couch.

"Now, Ash, behave. He's not done anything to earn your ire," Lord Rowland soothed.

"Just being with that maggot of a man is enough," Ashton growled.

Lord Rowland gently urged me up by my arm, allowing me to rest my hand on his knee to rise, as he sent me back toward the couch.

"Half of the aristocracy keeps amoratos now. You should be used to them," the count told his brother.

"I don't mind others. Just this one. Thinking anyone could love that thieving malkin of a marquis just turns my insides."

"Still..."

I was already moving away, feeling Lord Ashton flinch as my leg brushed against his. I hid my grimace at the man's description of my master. He was right; it turned my stomach too. I resettled on the couch, ducking my head as I feigned indifference to the other men in the room. I pretended tiredness, closing my eyes and resting my head against the back of the couch so they wouldn't be tempted to engage me. Hopefully, they'd ignore me completely now.

"You know he has designs on the shipment coming in this week," the deep, angry voice mumbled. Viscount Broody.

I guessed I was as inconsequential to them as I was to Master as they proceeded to ignore my presence now. Thank the Gods, I'd already demeaned myself enough. And now I could fantasize about them all I wanted.

"Don't worry. I've taken care of it," the count stated.

Hmm, that was interesting, I mused idly as my eyes remained closed, and I focused on the deep baritone of their voices. I wondered briefly how he'd taken care of my master's apparent plans to steal their shipment—only because I had nothing else to think about at the moment.

"Row, are you sure—"

"Ash, I'm not going to let this pompous bastard ruin our trades. Donnelly and Liam are working out the final details as we speak."

"I know, still—"

"Shh," Rowland hushed his brother. "We're not discussing it further here. We are not alone."

I heard a scoff. "Barrett's little pet is nothing but a hole for him to fuck."

I managed not to flinch at the apt description as Ashton's brother admonished him. It took all I had not to curl up into my safe ball.

"Ash, knock it off. Ignore the boy and quit antagonizing Barrett."

The door popped open as my master swept back in, and I raised my head lazily to him, offering him the wanton smile he expected me to give him. He reached out taking my hand as he settled back down before pulling me back against him. Thank goodness. I could hide away for a few moments.

Master was smiling, so that was a good sign. "I trust you amused yourselves in my absence."

"Quite well, my lord," the count stated easily. "I trust everything is well?"

Master grinned widely. "Very well, thank you."

The viscount huffed his annoyance at the pleasantries, obviously wanting to get right to the point.

"Lord Barrett," Count Rowland started, "we have heard some disparaging news, which I'm sure you'll be very interested to know about."

"And that is?" my master prompted, already wary.

"Well, one of the gentlemen detained after the most recent attack on our cargo had rather defamatory things to say about your involvement in the attacks."

"My involvement?" The feigned horror on my master's face was rather amusing. It didn't fool me, and I was pretty sure it didn't fool the two nobles sitting across from us either.

"I'm afraid so, my lord."

"And pray tell, what did this gentleman have to say?"

"He indicated that the shipment was being detained under your orders. So you can certainly understand our concern, my lord."

"I'm appalled that someone would insinuate such a thing," Master gasped. "I demand to interrogate this flap-mouthed varlet immediately. I won't tolerate my name to be defamed in such a way."

Ashton Sterling snorted his disbelief, even as his brother placed a tempering hand on his brother's arm. Their brown eyes met briefly, exchanging a silent conversation in one look, and Ashton nodded resignedly. I stared longingly at the hand Rowland had on his brother, the silent comfort in the gesture obvious.

I remembered having that—when a simple touch could calm me, make me feel safe and loved. I shifted to bury my face in my master's chest, hating the jealousy and longing that twisted my heart.

Count Rowland continued after clearing his throat. "Well, unfortunately, the man has since...disappeared."

Master's apparent disappointment was marred by the tiny smirk at the edge of his mouth. "Oh, well, that is ... unfortunate."

I saw the fist clenching of the darker lord at my master's subtle taunting. He was on the verge of exploding, held only in check by his brother's more mild temper. He even opened his mouth—I expected him to spew a litany of foul insults—however, his brother pressed a hand to his knee, taming the man's temper. I suspected Lord Rowland did that a lot.

"Yes, it is," the count agreed.

"Hmmm," my master looked like he were trying to remember something, "Pray tell me, how long again have these attacks been plaguing your shipments?"

"About nine months now. Why?"

"So, since your father passed away, correct?"

Lord Ashton's eyes darkened. "That is correct. And your point is?"

"Well, I was wondering if perhaps there is a significance in the timing..."

"You—" Ashton Sterling started but was stayed by his brother's calming hand.

"You might be correct, Lord Barrett," Rowland conceded. "We have considered the probability that someone might view us as targets, being that we are young and newly titled. That is why we thought we'd visit, since your name has also been dredged up into this whole nefarious situation."

"So that is what brought you here today? To inform me of the defamation being brought upon my character by a non-existent man?" My master relaxed back against the couch, arms stretching calmly along the back. Even without looking, I could imagine Master quirking his eyebrows in amusement.

Viscount Ashton rose so abruptly, I flinched at his sudden movement, then cursed my lack of restraint.

"I'll wait for you outside, Row," the deep voice growled, and I heard his heavy footsteps retreat across the room, followed by a loud thud of the front door.

"I apologize for my brother," the count said from his tense perch on the edge of his seat. "He is rather... disquieted by the plague of attacks recently."

"Well, I can certainly understand that. You seem rather distressed yourself."

"I'm sure you can well imagine that losing shipments to piracy is detrimental to all," Lord Rowland responded carefully.

I watched my master's lips quirk as he tilted his head as if he were suddenly curious. "Curious. I've heard rumors of... unrest, shall we say. I wonder if our gracious regent is aware of what is contained in your recent cargo."

The count's reaction was instantaneous—his fists tightened in his lap and his nostrils flared at the implication my master was making. I thought it was rather risky on my master's part to accuse Lord Rowland of treason against the crown like that, considering that's pretty much what the counts had done to him.

"You know full well that my father, and now my brother and I, are completely loyal to the regent. And I'm sure you are aware those stolen shipments carry armaments and supplies for his majesty's army," Count Sterling stated tightly.

"Of course, forgive my...curiosity," Master's lie rolled oily off his tongue. He didn't regret his comment; he'd intentionally antagonized the man.

"In the spirit of public welfare," the count continued as formally and politely as he could manage (I was impressed with his control—wish I could be that good)," we'd be grateful for any help you could offer in preventing further attacks. I'd hate for one of your shipments to befall the same fate."

I could practically feel the veiled accusation the count was leveling at my master. His brother certainly wouldn't have been as obscure in his references.

Master's body tensed under mine, even though he kept an easy smile on his face. I felt my own arms instinctively trying to draw into my chest, sensing Master's anger and irritation at the cryptic accusation, even if he wasn't terribly surprised by it.

"I see. Well, I shall certainly look into it. My steward and I are most concerned for the safety of our vessels."

"I'm sure your immense influence would be supremely helpful in deterring further incidents."

My master's arm tightened around me, and I knew he was reaching the end of his patience with the conversation. Very few ever crossed him, and it was apparent the count and viscount were very certain of my master's involvement in the attacks on their ships. I suspected they were right from the snatches of conversation I'd heard between him and Richard involving the Earl and Baroness his keeps correspondence with.

"We will take our leave, now," the count stated, rising gracefully. "I thank you for granting us audience on such short notice and with such abominable tidings."

"I appreciate your concern for my honor and coming to let me know about the attacks on my character. I assure you I will look into it, as well as what might be done in regards to the recent bout of piracy our ports have experienced." The two lords stared at each other for several long moments before Count Sterling offered a curt bow. My master didn't even bother to rise, a blatant disregard for basic decorum, only offering a simple nod. "Samuel will see you out."

Rowland straightened, facing my master. "I assure you, when we do find further evidence of who is involved in the attacks on our trade shipments, we will not be lenient." He started to turn to leave but threw back one parting warning, "And I'm sure the Regent will consider it an act of treason against the crown as well. Good day, Lord Barrett."

Master sucked in a sharp breath at the threat, his hand fisting in my hair angrily, even though I hadn't caused it.

Fucking hell, why couldn't the counts just leave Master alone?

I suspected I'd been taking the brunt of his fury shortly.

****

Master waited several minutes after the door shut to be sure the two nobles were gone. Those moments were torture as I waited for his reaction. It came swiftly, as he shoved me to the floor in one angry burst.

"Fuck!" he yelled, as I hit the hard wood with a thump, the pain in my back and thighs blinding me for a moment.

As he paced angrily back and forth, I pulled myself up into my kneeling position just in time to be on the receiving end of a harsh kick to my thigh. A small surprised cry escaped my lips, and I immediately drew a sharp breath, expecting another hit for my loss of control.

"Come, Kye," Master ordered as he stalked out of the parlor to his office. I peeled myself off the floor and hurried to follow, hiding my discomfort from the eyes of any servants nearby.

He ignored me as he paced over to his desk, and I took up the corner, holding my attentive position. Moments later, Richard entered. The steward ignored me as he usually did. He was the only one who knew what I really was to the marquis, and he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, I provided his lord with a safe outlet to his anger.

"Relax, sir," Richard said calmly. "Everything has been taken care of."

Master ran a hand through his graying hair. "Damn good thing you called me out to let me know that Lee had taken care of their 'evidence'."

"Exactly. They were trying to rattle you."

"It was fucking close though," Master snapped. "That idiot who Sterling caught talked."

"And he's gone now," Richard assured.

I blinked. The 'idiot'? I remembered bits of my master's furious ranting as he'd flayed my back open a couple of days ago. 'That viperous ratsbane who Sterling caught better never let me get a hold of him. I'll strip him bare for turning on me like that!' Fucking hell. The man who had betrayed my master had told the Counts who was behind the thefts. My master, Lord Barrett. The man had been Lord Rowland and Lord Ashton's 'evidence', their witness. The man I had suffered for because he'd told the counts the truth.

And now he was gone. Killed, I was sure of it, by whoever this Lee person was that my master had spying at the Sterling Estate.

I shivered. It was times like these I wished they didn't find me so invisible and non-threatening because I didn't want to be privy to any of this information. I was nothing to them. Just another piece of the furniture. Nevertheless, what I heard in that room, what I knew, often made me sick, to realize just how corrupt my master was. Until now, I hadn't really fully contemplated my master's machinations. I hadn't cared much beyond surviving. But thoughts of the recent months, with the correspondence with the Earl of Huxton and Baroness Delyle as well as his furtive meetings and the unknown spy at the Counts' estate, flooded my mind. My master was probably involved in lofty plans for the regency.

"We'll just have to back off a bit. Allow things to cool down. Unfortunately, we can't stop the attack on the next shipment. We'd never be able to contact them in time without raising suspicion," Master surmised. "Plus, Count Rowland wouldn't expect it, now. Not with the threat they just laid at my door."

Richard grinned. "Exactly, sir."

Master stared at me for several long moments, and I kept my features blank. As much as I might be the one to suffer if Master's plans failed, I couldn't help but hope that the Sterling Counts managed to thwart his thievery. Master had obviously had at least one person killed to protect his interests.

On the other hand, I wondered vaguely what would happen to me, to my family, if he were caught. Master said his accountant automatically paid out my contract to my parents each month as long as I behaved and kept him happy. If I didn't, he'd call his accountant and stop payments. My mother would die. Papa didn't make enough working for the inn to support them both and pay for my mother's care.

If Master were caught, what would happen to the payments? How would my mother get her medicine, how would my parents pay for the rent, for food?

"Send a message to Lee over at Sterling's estate. Find out what they are up to. I'm certain they have something planned," Master stated.

I froze. Master had a spy at the counts' estate. A man named Lee. I prayed that Lord Rowland and Lord Ashton hadn't shared their plans with the traitor in their midst.

"I will, sir." The steward turned and headed toward the door. "I can see you are frustrated. Why don't you take Kye back to your rooms and let off a little steam before dinner?"

Clenching my teeth, I cursed the man in my head. I refused to even look up at him through my curtain of flaxen hair. Bastard.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Come, pet," Master called, indicating for me to follow.

I did so, as gracefully as I could with the stiff muscles from the last beating I'd taken when Master had been 'frustrated.'

Richard stepped in front of me, halting my progress as he stared me down. "I wonder..." he murmured, obviously addressing my master even though he was looking at me, "if perhaps the Count or Viscount said anything interesting while I had you out of the room, sir."

This was one moment that I thanked the Gods for all my lessons in discipline. The years of honing my silence, stilling my body in the face of fear, controlling my breathing allowed me to maintain a calm indifference in the appraising face of my master's steward.

My master glanced over at Richard scrutinizing me. I kept my body as loose and relaxed as I could, one hand clasping the wrist of the other behind my back. Richard even lifted my chin, but I kept my eyes hooded, eyeing his chest instead of his face.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I lazily lifted my eyes to him, practically daring him to see anything in my apathetic gaze and aloof stance. Be strong. Be good.

"Come now, Richard, do you really think they'd say anything of import in front of my lover? And if they did, Kye would have said something."

"When?"

"What do you mean 'when'?"

"I mean, when would your little toy here have said anything?" Richard snapped. "You've beaten him into silence."

Master bristled, stepping over and clasping a hand to my neck possessively. "I've also beaten him into submission. He wouldn't dare defy me. You know that."

"Then ask him," Richard demanded, and I was again reminded of how close this man was to my master that he was allowed to talk to him that way.

I was yanked around to face my master and quickly dropped back into position as he caressed my jaw. I leaned into it, making a show of my docility under his hand. At his touch, I receded further into my mind, escaping as far away from these men as I could.

"Did the gentlemen who were here say anything while I was gone, my pet?"

I allowed my gaze to flick up to my master's face briefly. "Yes, sir."

His eyes widened slightly, and Richard crossed his arms haughtily over his chest as if saying 'I told you so.'

"What did they say?" Master asked tightly, and I sensed his anger bubbling under the surface again.

"They said... 'Barrett's little pet is nothing but a... hole to fuck,'" I repeated softly, meeting first master's eyes before trailing over to Richard's. Then, for the steward's benefit, I added a terse, "Sir."

For a second, I thought my master would smack me for the edge of defiance in my voice. Instead, he laughed loudly, obviously seeing it was aimed at his steward. Richard curled his lip in a sneer.

Remembering every whip slicing my skin, cane welting my back, and fist bruising my emaciated body, I oozed calm, placid control at that moment. And I reveled in the feeling of triumph.

My master chuckled heartily as he slapped Richard on the back; my own body tensed at the man's swinging arm, but it wasn't aimed at me this time.

"Ha, Richard, I believe you have nothing to worry about from my 'little toy' here," Master managed to say around his laughter.

"I suppose there isn't," Richard huffed. "Take your little slut to bed."

"I believe I will," Master agreed, a broad smile on his face.

I allowed the tiniest of smiles to tip the corner of my lips as I followed him to the door. I'd managed to shift my master's mood from angry and frustrated to chipper and relaxed.

I suspect Master never expected that his intense, brutal training would steel me enough to be able lie to him as well I just did. Perhaps for the first time ever, since Tareth had abandoned me, I felt as if I had some control over my life. I had knowledge that the Sterling Counts were already expecting Master's attack. I could have told him. I could have helped him plan for that.

But I didn't.

It was my secret to keep. I wasn't helping my master rob innocent men of their livelihood as he seemed to be doing. And, for as much as Lord Ashton despised me for my position, I prayed both he and his brother succeeded in quelling my master's theft of their property.

They seemed like good men. Handsome men. Honest men. Certainly better than Master.

And I felt at peace, like I had done something good, untainted by my clouded, violated soul.

For a moment, at least, I didn't feel like my life was slipping farther away, shattering to pieces.