"Follow me, Joseph. Bring the tray." Lord Valmont strode toward his rooms with singular determination. Joseph trailed behind him, bearing the bottle of cognac with him. The quiet valet was certain that Lady Montblanc would not tolerate Marcel's recent behaviour. Yet he knew better than to make any comment.
Marcel stopped abruptly just three paces inside the door and swung around. Joseph very nearly walked into him. Scooping the bottle off the tray, Marcel filled his glass and drained it almost immediately. Joseph had never seen Marcel drink so much in the space of a mere few hours.
"Damn it all! This bottle's empty." Marcel stared balefully at his valet. "Why are you still here, Joseph? Fetch me another!"
"My lord." He bowed quickly and left. Although the young lord clearly needed no more of the strong liquor, Joseph would never dare to tell him so.
He slipped through one of the many painted panels leading below stairs. As he passed by clusters of Anna's servants, his thoughts were focused on Marcel. Lord Valmont's obvious interest in the Irish music teacher made Joseph clench his fists. A few months ago he never would have cared. Joseph sighed and shook his head. He knew it was beyond foolish to allow the selfish lord into his heart. Marcel was merely using him and thought of nothing but his own pleasure. Repeating this to himself like a prayer, the somber man collected the liquor and began walking back to Marcel's rooms.
This time he noticed the way many of Anna's serving women stared at him and whispered to each other as he passed. He raised his chin and refused to acknowledge them. They all seemed aware of Marcel's particular taste in bed partners. As a result, they shunned his company and watched his every movement.
It hadn't been that way in Paris. Joseph missed the city almost as much as his master did. Friends and family had both been left behind. If he'd been there, he was sure that his friends among the family servants would've been less hostile.
Such thoughts were banished as Marcel's apartments came into view. He could hear angry voices through the closed doors, one of them clearly belonging to the lady of the house. Joseph knew he'd no right to spy on them. He was well aware that he should wait in the hall until summoned. Yet, he carefully turned the latch and eased the door open just a crack.
"... made a mockery of myself and my hospitality! On a Holy Day no less! Father would—"
"Our father sent me to you! My dear sister," he sneered, "the paragon of discipline and virtue."
"That's right!" she snapped back. "What would become of you if I threw you out?"
"You wouldn't dare! It's not as though you don't have your own dirty secrets! What would father say if he knew of young Mr. Colton? You're entirely too fond of him, Anne!"
"What? How dare you threaten me! How dare you assume I feel such base emotions!"
"You've a point, I confess it. No harpy such as you would feel anything beyond her own self-righteousness."
There was a sharp crack, followed by silence. She'd actually struck her brother. Joseph inched closer to the door, wondering if it was over. No such luck, Anna berated her brother further as the valet listened.
"You concern yourself too much with my daughter's music teacher. I think you're jealous, little brother. You will stay away from him henceforth!"
"Really, Anna, do you honestly expect me to hide myself if he canters up the drive on his drab little pony?"
"I'll do better than that, Marcel." She hissed. "For the next week, you will remain in your suite unless summoned."
"Out of the question!" His outrage was palpable. Joseph wished he could see the young lord's face.
"You will do as you're told, Marcel." Her voice was calm and even now, dangerously so. "You'll be lucky if I don't order you locked in these rooms. I ought to send your servant packing as well!" Joseph drew a sudden, sharp breath. Unfortunately she heard him. The door was jerked open an instant later and he stared into the lady's hateful gaze.
"So! Your servant spies on us, Marcel!"
It was true enough, though one did well not to admit such a thing. Joseph bowed gracefully and knew he had to lie. "Not so my lady. The door was left ajar and I could not help but hear your last words. I apologize if I--"
Anna slapped him hard. "How dare you lie to me! I can—"
"That's enough, Anna." Marcel appeared by Joseph's side. "He is my servant. Father gave him to me."
"I beg your pardon? Are you protecting your catamite, now?"
Joseph blushed and lowered his eyes. "My lady, I'm nothing of the sort."
Marcel smirked triumphantly. "There, you see. My valet is innocent of such things, dear sister. Surely I would never claim a common man as a lover? Even you must see that." The lord's tone was vile and mocking as he said it.
"No servant of yours is innocent, Marcel." She said darkly. "Furthermore, your disgusting habits have little to do with love. He was eaves dropping and ought to be punished." The look she gave Joseph was murderous.
"Indeed?" Marcel Valmont closed his hand around Joseph's arm and drew him inside the suite. "If he has been spying, I'll punish him myself. Good night, Anna." He shut the door in her outraged face and bolted it.
Joseph wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but Marcel still held his arm tight. The look in his eyes was merciless, though his tone was quiet and soft. "I believe my sister is right, Joseph. How unfortunate for you."
"My—my lord, I—"
"Be quiet!" He drew him close and whispered in the valet's ear. "I'm sure you realise what could happen to you?" Joseph trembled, aware that he could be sacked or even flogged for his temerity. Unable to speak, he nodded. "Good. Now then, what were you doing outside my door, Joseph?"
He held up the bottle that he'd been sent to retrieve. "My lord requested this." He whispered.
Marcel chuckled in his ear. "So I did. It will taste almost as good as the sweat on your skin. Perhaps I might consider forgiving you. Get undressed." Valmont took the bottle and poured himself a glass. Dark eyes watched him over the rim of cut crystal. "I'm impressed you did not crumble beneath her scrutiny, Joseph."
Joseph draped his coat over a chair and began unbuttoning his shirt. "She did not believe me, my lord."
Marcel only snorted and drained the glass. "Of course she didn't. My sister isn't stupid, she simply has no proof."
He stalked toward Joseph and ran his tapered fingers over his valet's bare chest. "She won't be back tonight. Take off the rest." Joseph did as he was told. "Ah, you're ready for me, aren't you?" Marcel's fingers slid smoothly around Joseph's hardened rod. He gasped and arched his back into Marcel's hand. "I'm pleased by how quickly you've learned to enjoy this, Joseph." The valet moaned as his body was kissed and groped, ashamed by how very much he wanted it.
Their mouths met, exchanging hungry, passionate kisses. Joseph slid his hands down the front Marcel's flamboyant outfit. As he began to unlace his breeches, the young lord stepped suddenly away from him.
"Not yet, Joseph."
Marcel strode into the inner chamber, his heels clicking sharply on the marble parquetry. Sitting on the bed, Marcel leaned back on his elbows and extended one long leg into the air. "Shoes first."
Joseph was aroused, naked and highly irritated. He knelt at his lord's feet and carefully removed the silken shoes. Instead of removing the breeches, as he normally would, Joseph slid his palms over Marcel's feet and up his calves. He undid the button just below Marcel's knee and slipped his hand beneath the fabric, stroking his thigh over the silk hose.
"Joseph? What are you doing?"
The valet's fingers found the top edge of the short hose his lord was wearing, halfway up his thigh. "Disrobing you, my lord." He said innocently. Then he rapidly slid the silk garment all the way off.
Marcel gasped and stared down at his servant. Joseph gave him no time to react and repeated his actions with the other leg. Planting lingering kisses all the way up Marcel's leg, Joseph finally unlaced and removed his breeches. Instead of taking complete control, as Joseph expected, Marcel observed him silently with half lidded eyes. He must really be drunk, the valet thought sourly.
Marcel gasped loudly and threw back his head as Joseph's mouth enveloped him. Joseph held down his hips and took the lord's manhood down his throat over and over. Marcel's fingers tangled in his hair and the lord squirmed ardently beneath his ministrations. He'd done this before, of course, but never so aggressively.
"Ah! Joseph—I..."
He knew Marcel was about to come and stopped abruptly. He climbed on top and straddled his master, unbuttoning vest and shirt.
"What—" The lord was silenced by a savage kiss that left Marcel breathless.
Joseph didn't want to give Marcel time to think. His hands trembled as he picked up the bottle of oil and liberally applied it the lord's long tool. Valmont's eyes dilated and his breath quickened. Joseph knew it would hurt a lot, he just didn't care. He raised his hips and impaled himself hard on Marcel's manhood, screaming out raggedly as he did so.
Marcel reached toward his shoulders, but Joseph was having none of that. He pinned the lord's wrists and waited for the pain to subside.
"Let me up, Joseph." There was cold steel in Marcel's voice, but the young valet ignored it. He kissed the lord passionately and then rode him hard and fast. It didn't take very long. Excited by his own boldness, Joseph came quickly, followed by Marcel. They were covered in sweat as Joseph rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes, too exhausted to move.
Xxxxxx
Marcel woke slowly. The bright wash of sunlight through the window lay warm on the lavender quilt. It was tucked snugly around him, which struck the lord as odd. The previous night came back to him and he bolted upright. Marcel then realised he wasn't naked, the linen nightshirt smelled crisp and fresh. Blinking in surprise, he turned to find his customary tea and toast breakfast on the nightstand. Everything was completely normal. Dark eyes slid slowly along the floor. Every trace of their debauchery was gone. In fact the parquetry looked cleaner than it had any right to.
"I see you're awake, my lord." His valet came into the room and approached the tea service. Every movement as he poured the hot liquid was casual and relaxed. Speechless, he took the small cup as it was handed to him. Joseph then wandered over to the wardrobe and began selecting items of clothing.
Marcel's mouth thinned to a line. He put the cup down and surged to his feet. Joseph whirled around as Marcel closed the distance between them. The valet backed up, pressing against the teak wardrobe. Marcel placed his palm almost tenderly against the young man's face.
"Joseph," he purred, "I am your lord, am I not?"
"Yes my lord." A small hesitation, "I live to serve."
