DefeatedbyLove Read Free Page A

not
using them as you are. I can’t love them, we both know that. But I help them.
We all get something out of it, you see. I solve their problems and they fuck
me silly. We all win.”
    “I don’t use them,” Daniel protested, but he knew it wasn’t
true. He did use them. He used them when he was lonely and afraid of staying
that way forever. It frightened him sometimes, that in the last ten years all
the empty dalliances he’d had with one man after another had not fulfilled him
the way those few short weeks with Harry had.
    “It doesn’t matter,” Simon said, and Daniel could hear the
sympathy in his voice. It grated, even though of all the people he knew Simon
probably understood better than most. He carried his own heartbreak, with no
chance for a reprieve. “What matters is that you stop being stupid.” He pointed
at the closed door. “That little fancy piece you brought home last night could
have been real trouble. Hopefully he won’t still turn out to be. I’d wager that
most of London knows who and what you are, but they let it pass because you’ve
always been circumspect and, frankly, you frighten them. But if you continue to
play the slut all over town things may change, and rather quickly.” He reached
over and covered Daniel’s hand with his. “You know I’d go to the gallows at
your side,” he said, and Daniel knew it to be true. He was the best friend a
man could have. “Or die defending you in a fracas. But I’d rather we simply
play it safe for a while. No more fancy pieces and no more St. Giles. Just
until things settle down.”
    Daniel raised his teacup in a salute. “I like this plan of
yours,” he said, forcing some lightness into his tone.
    “Maybe it won’t get us killed,” Simon replied with a good
deal of skepticism.

Chapter Three
     
    Daniel stretched his legs out toward the unlit fireplace. It
was devilish hot, even for July. He wished it would rain. It had rained day
after day after day last spring. It had been utterly fatiguing then, but he
missed it now. He sighed contentedly. It had been over a month since he’d taken
Simon’s advice and stopped venturing into St. Giles every night. He’d gone a
step further and steered clear of gaming hells, as well. No fancy boys, and no
St. Giles. He was starting to feel like a useless old man and he found he
rather liked it. Here he was on a Saturday evening, in shirtsleeves and
slippers before the fire sipping brandy and contemplating what book to read, as
opposed to slitting throats, running for his life and fucking strange men. This
sort of life had a certain appeal.
    But so did the other one.
    When a knock came at the front door he sat up, alert. Like
a hound on the scent , he thought disparagingly. So much for a quiet life .
He waited in anticipation for Matheson to come and tell him who it was. He
listened intently, but could not discern the voice speaking to his butler. It
definitely wasn’t Simon. He always made a commotion when he arrived.
    When Matheson knocked he quickly leaned back in his chair
and assumed a nonchalant pose. “Yes?” he called out. “Come in.”
    Matheson poked his head inside. “A young lady to see you
sir. In the family way.”
    Daniel racked his brain to try to remember if anyone he knew
was in that condition at the moment. Very Tarrant had her baby several months
ago, and the Duchess of Ashland wasn’t likely to be traveling when she was so
close to her confinement with her third child. Had someone else been overly
fertile and they’d forgotten to tell him? It seemed these happy couples he
called friends were always producing offspring these days.
    “Anyone I know?” he whispered to Matheson.
    Matheson shook his head. “No sir. And she wouldn’t give me
her name.”
    “Is she armed?” It paid to be cautious.
    Again, Matheson shook his head. “No sir, not that I can
tell. But I shall make sure to politely request her wrap and reticule.”
    “Good man,” Daniel said. “Show her in