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Authors: K.A. Mitchell
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head and peered into the glass on the washstand. Half of his curls were
flattened, but for one that twisted out like a billy goat’s horn. As for the other side…who knew what he had slept in to create the resemblance to an angry badger. He reached into the washbowl and cursed as his
fingers cracked through a thin film of ice.
“What?” Ian’s voice was the deeper from recent sleep.
“The blasted water’s frozen. I’d rather hang than coat my head in it.” He cast an eye to the window,
trying to gauge the time. Nothing but darkness, broken by a hissing clatter slashing the glass. Finding it too cold to snow, the heavens were hurling ice at them. “Even the pig-swiving snow is frozen. We won’t be
hunting this morning either. And it’s Boxing Day which means cold meats and old bread. Damn it.”
“I don’t recall you being quite such an ill-tempered riser.”
38
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An Improper Holiday
“Then there is some fault to your memory.” Nicky shivered violently, sending the icy water on his
fingers flying into his face. “Shit.”
“Be grateful for the fortunes of birth. If you’d ever had to stick out a day of soldiering I think you’d be cashiered before nightfall.”
“And be glad of it. Didn’t you have a batman? I thought all officers were assigned one.”
“Father said we couldn’t afford it. Not with Charlotte’s come-out. I was treated to a lengthy letter on how her court dress alone would have kept three profligate households flush for a year.” Ian’s voice
deepened another octave until it was positively sepulchral. “No one to bring your tea. Boxing Day, every day, Nicky. Imagine the horror of it.”
Perhaps it was the chill or perhaps it was the remnants of sleep still wrapping Nicky’s head with wool, but he finally latched onto the realization that Ian was not carrying a millstone of shame this morning. He’d half-expected Ian to deny what had happened and then Nicky would need to spend yet more time
convincing him to resume their physical relationship. Yet with this morning’s familiar exchange, the
intervening five years might have been a dream from which Nicky had just awakened in Ian’s bed as he
used to do. One thing was true, when Ian committed to a course, it took a labor of Hercules to deter him from it. Nicky should know. He’d undertaken the labor twice now. With sweeter rewards than the gods
could dream.
After shrugging his coat onto his shoulders, he sat on the bed and brushed a thumb across Ian’s rough
cheek. “I’d kiss you, but I’m afraid our lips will freeze. Of course, I’m sure we could find a way to thaw them. It might be fun to have my mouth stuck fast to your cock.”
Ian gave him a stern look.
“In the absence of a fire, I could stand some bracing before I make my bitter journey.”
“For God’s sake, your room is just across the hall.”
“Don’t you think I arranged it so? But in this air, I could catch my death without something to warm
me.”
“Your complaints are too fatiguing. Get to bed and speak to me when you are fit for company.”
“What sort of company?” Nicky offered him a leer.
“You know whose it had best not be.”
Nicky smiled. He had never received a better gift than such narrow-eyed proof of Ian’s devotion. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Mr. Stanton. And do try not to issue any challenges to my friends before then.”
~ * ~
Nicky’s mother had begun the tradition of a Twelve Night party when she had been a young bride,
and Nicky had enjoyed every one, even when he had to sneak out of the nursery to spy on the goings-on
just as his twin brothers were doing when he caught the lads skulking on one of the tower’s stairs. When
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39
K.A. Mitchell
they’d been in leading strings it had been impossible to tell them apart, but now at eleven, Richard had an inch on Robert and Robert’s hair was showing a tendency to the wildness that had plagued
flattened, but for one that twisted out like a billy goat’s horn. As for the other side…who knew what he had slept in to create the resemblance to an angry badger. He reached into the washbowl and cursed as his
fingers cracked through a thin film of ice.
“What?” Ian’s voice was the deeper from recent sleep.
“The blasted water’s frozen. I’d rather hang than coat my head in it.” He cast an eye to the window,
trying to gauge the time. Nothing but darkness, broken by a hissing clatter slashing the glass. Finding it too cold to snow, the heavens were hurling ice at them. “Even the pig-swiving snow is frozen. We won’t be
hunting this morning either. And it’s Boxing Day which means cold meats and old bread. Damn it.”
“I don’t recall you being quite such an ill-tempered riser.”
38
www.samhainpublishing.com
An Improper Holiday
“Then there is some fault to your memory.” Nicky shivered violently, sending the icy water on his
fingers flying into his face. “Shit.”
“Be grateful for the fortunes of birth. If you’d ever had to stick out a day of soldiering I think you’d be cashiered before nightfall.”
“And be glad of it. Didn’t you have a batman? I thought all officers were assigned one.”
“Father said we couldn’t afford it. Not with Charlotte’s come-out. I was treated to a lengthy letter on how her court dress alone would have kept three profligate households flush for a year.” Ian’s voice
deepened another octave until it was positively sepulchral. “No one to bring your tea. Boxing Day, every day, Nicky. Imagine the horror of it.”
Perhaps it was the chill or perhaps it was the remnants of sleep still wrapping Nicky’s head with wool, but he finally latched onto the realization that Ian was not carrying a millstone of shame this morning. He’d half-expected Ian to deny what had happened and then Nicky would need to spend yet more time
convincing him to resume their physical relationship. Yet with this morning’s familiar exchange, the
intervening five years might have been a dream from which Nicky had just awakened in Ian’s bed as he
used to do. One thing was true, when Ian committed to a course, it took a labor of Hercules to deter him from it. Nicky should know. He’d undertaken the labor twice now. With sweeter rewards than the gods
could dream.
After shrugging his coat onto his shoulders, he sat on the bed and brushed a thumb across Ian’s rough
cheek. “I’d kiss you, but I’m afraid our lips will freeze. Of course, I’m sure we could find a way to thaw them. It might be fun to have my mouth stuck fast to your cock.”
Ian gave him a stern look.
“In the absence of a fire, I could stand some bracing before I make my bitter journey.”
“For God’s sake, your room is just across the hall.”
“Don’t you think I arranged it so? But in this air, I could catch my death without something to warm
me.”
“Your complaints are too fatiguing. Get to bed and speak to me when you are fit for company.”
“What sort of company?” Nicky offered him a leer.
“You know whose it had best not be.”
Nicky smiled. He had never received a better gift than such narrow-eyed proof of Ian’s devotion. “I’ll see you at breakfast, Mr. Stanton. And do try not to issue any challenges to my friends before then.”
~ * ~
Nicky’s mother had begun the tradition of a Twelve Night party when she had been a young bride,
and Nicky had enjoyed every one, even when he had to sneak out of the nursery to spy on the goings-on
just as his twin brothers were doing when he caught the lads skulking on one of the tower’s stairs. When
www.samhainpublishing.com
39
K.A. Mitchell
they’d been in leading strings it had been impossible to tell them apart, but now at eleven, Richard had an inch on Robert and Robert’s hair was showing a tendency to the wildness that had plagued
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