Yours Is The Only Ocean

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

Alex was returning to High Green feeling like a triumphant warrior. In some ways he felt he had left Cornwall a boy and was returning a man. Being with Miles had changed him forever. Miles was the smartest, cleverest, most resourceful person he had ever met, and that he wanted and desired Alex, meant more to him than anything.

Then of course there was the sex. Zavi and Henrietta had left them to their own devices, and apart from the couple of days they sat for Sir Reginald Dwight, they spent most of their time in bed. Alex loved to be fucked. He loved everything about it, the pain, the pleasure, the feeling of surrendering to Miles, like it was the ultimate way he could show his love. It was pretty much all he could think of. At every inn they stayed in on the way back, the moment the door was closed, Alex was naked and on his back, begging for Miles, to the point they had now almost used up all Miles' homemade lubricant!

As Alex pulled up outside High Green, the front door opened, but instead of a servant coming out, it was Abraham. He was clearly furious about something. He was striding purposely, his fist bunched, his jaw clenched.

"That's how you're gonna look when you're older," Miles laughed quietly. "I'm definitely going to Jamaica on my own."

"Bastard!" Alex hit him playfully on the arm.

"Where have you been, Alexander?" Abraham huffed.

"London. I left a message with Lowe..."

"You have the audacity to use your brother's gig when he has been at death's door..."

"Well, he had no use for it, did he?"

Abraham flared his nostrils and looked at Miles.

"Captain Kane, I am so sorry about my son's behaviour. Percy is convalescing in the blue room. I am sure he would like to see you."

"Thank you, Mr Turner." He looked at Alex, and his friendly, benign smile gave away nothing to indicate what they had been up to. "See you later, Alex."

"Yes, take care, Miles."

Miles jumped down from the gig, took his bags from the back and walked off. Alex watched him go...taking in what an elegant walk he had. He was perfect....

"Alex!" Abraham shouted, bringing him back to reality. "We have got the Cobains coming for Christmas."

Alex got down from the gig.

"Who are they?"

"Lucinda Cobain is one of your stepmother's oldest friends. She is married to Laird Stuart Cobain of Aberdeen. He is the King's cousin. Raine hasn't seen Lucinda in many years, and you return from London looking like some sort of dandy."

Alex remembered he was wearing the frock coat he'd got in Beachamp, the one with the pink ruffles on the sleeves.

"What have you done to your hair?"

"It needed cutting."

"I don't recognise you, Alex." He shook his head. "Come inside. I need to talk to you."

The stable lad came to take the gig, and Alex fetched his many bags, mainly full of his new purchases. He followed his father into the house, only able to wonder how he could sneak into Miles' room that night.

Fanshaw went off to get some servants to take Alex's bags, and he went into the study with Abraham. His father sat at his desk, but Alex knew he would have to remain standing. Abraham would see sitting as insubordination.

"What has happened to you, Alex? Since you became betrothed to Eliza, you have been behaving like a foolish boy. Look at you, you don't even look like yourself anymore. When did you last see Eliza?"