The Soldier's Scoundrel (The Turner Series, #1)

by Cat Sebastian

“Sometimes I think fashion magazines are run by revolutionaries just to make the aristocracy look stupid.”

Jack was dangerously close to being impressed with Rivington, but he supposed he’d get over it.

“No, you should have let them kill you.” Jack tapped his chin in a parody of thoughtfulness. “That would be the gentlemanly way to comport oneself, I’m certain. They’ll take back your voucher to Almack’s now, no way around it.”

Did you somehow not notice that I nearly fucked you against a building on Piccadilly the other night?”

He had only a half second of waiting for the kiss to come before he felt the other man’s lips brush against his own.

Honor was a luxury item, like hair pomade and snuff. Its only purpose was to show the world that you could afford to be impractical, that you had enough money to behave in a way that was compatible with some ludicrous code instead of acting out of self-preservation like the rest of humanity.

The best lie was the one that sounded like a truth too boring to merit discussion.

Jack touched Oliver’s knee with one big hand, sliding it ever so slowly up.

The richer the man, the more likely it was that he had gone to a school whose only purpose was to introduce him to other rich lads and make all of them unfit for the company of anyone but themselves.

Jack wondered if they had already performed the British upper class ritual of listing everyone they knew in common or if he’d have to sit through that.

It was more than attraction. Seeing Jack like this was the first inkling Oliver had that he could feel more for him than interest in a passing dalliance. Jack Turner’s face was one that could be dear to him.

Jack approached, but instead of sitting he went to his knees and put a hand on Oliver’s boot.

There wasn’t even time for Oliver to wonder whether he ought to feel self-conscious about his scars.

How the hell am I supposed to get anything done, now that I know?”

Jack couldn’t have said how it happened, but he was now almost cradled in Oliver’s arms.

Ridiculous that Alder Court was grand enough to have rooms dedicated exclusively to recognizing the gap between master and servant. As if anyone who occupied that void could ever forget it. Jack didn’t need second-rate bed hangings to know that he didn’t belong at Alder Court. It was, he understood, the people at Alder Court who needed that reassurance. The aristocracy and gentry did whatever they could to keep power and money to themselves. You were either Quality or you were not, and if you weren’t, it hardly mattered whether you were a surgeon or a street sweeper.

Never had Jack tied a cravat more resentfully and with more confusion than he did that day.

He had to remind himself that the earl was nothing more to him than an animate pile of money with useful friends in Whitehall.

Instead he turned his face into Oliver’s hand, brushing his lips across Oliver’s palm.

Jack could only assume that Montbray inspired instantaneous thoughts of murder most places he went.

The man was unscrupulous and unlawful and, worst of all, Oliver found that he loved him anyway.

“He’s not my friend,” Jack replied automatically. “I can call him the toff you’re shagging, if you require that level of specificity, dear brother.”

Somehow they managed to get the door to Jack’s office closed behind them before they so much as touched one another.

“You stubborn, ignorant bastard.” He was speaking through gritted teeth. “I love you. I don’t want you to die for me. I don’t want you to be hurt at all. I want you to be safe, with me. Why is that so hard to understand? What if you had died tonight? What the hell would I have done with myself once I had figured out that you did it for me?” Jack forced himself to look directly at Oliver. “Then you would have known that you were loved in return.”

I’ll talk to Mrs. Durbin and make sure she sees the error of her ways. Maybe ask her to marry me. It’s not every woman who contemplates shooting an aristocrat. I’ve had the urge myself. Surely that’s enough to build a life on.”

And that was how Oliver learned that Jack planned on the two of them living together for the rest of their lives.

Nobody had been more surprised than Jack to discover that when he was happy, he wanted to make others happy. What a soggy lot of rubbish, but there you had it.