Cassian’s eyes opened wide, the sun-and-rain mix glowing with something that might have been laughter. ‘Are you asking me to ride you, at all?’
Daizell winced. ‘Apparently.’
‘Oh, but I could do that.’ Cassian’s voice dropped into that spine-tingling gentle croon. ‘I could ride you just as you want, my Daizell, my very wonderful Daizell, and tell you how wonderful you are as I do it.’
A small whimper escaped Daizell’s throat. Cassian tightened his arms, and then they were tangled up in kisses again, blissfully lost to the clock, or pointless missions, or anything except one another.
Eventually, Cassian squirmed down a bit to lie on Daizell’s chest, toying idly with a nipple, to interesting effect. ‘I feel I should thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘Not assuming that I must like to, uh, receive, just because I’m not a great hulk of a man. That’s at least one thing John Martin got right.’
‘It makes no sense,’ Daizell said. ‘Why should that— Hold on. What?’
‘Oh.’ Cassian’s ready blush flooded his face. ‘Yes. I wasn’t entirely honest with you about how I came to be robbed, was I? Well, I couldn’t be, at the time. But it’s how I came to be in an inn with him overnight, that’s all.’
That did make rather more sense, now Daizell thought about it. He hadn’t troubled to consider the story deeply. ‘The thief was your lover?’
‘Hardly that. We met in a park. He paid me some very flattering attention, and persuaded me to meet for a night together. He was exceedingly charming and it was – well, I’m not used to being courted and it felt like he was doing that. I was quite taken in. And we met, and had a very nice meal, and he plied me with drink and had me ride him. It was good, I think – it’s not quite clear in my memory, but I’m reasonably sure I enjoyed myself up until I fell asleep. And then I woke up with my clothes and possessions and ring stolen. I did not enjoy that part.’ He was trying to sound light, but Daizell could hear the hurt. ‘Granted he wanted torob me, did he have to make me feel quite such a fool? He even left me a note saying it was my fault.’
‘Your fault that he robbed you?’
‘He said I shouldn’t put temptation in people’s way, I suppose by having a few costly items with me, or perhaps by falling asleep too soon. I felt it was rather an unkind jab.’
‘Temptation in people’s way,’ Daizell said. His voice sounded hollow in his own ears. ‘About your height, dark hair, hazel eyes . . . he didn’t, by any chance, have a purple birthmark on his arse?’
‘He did, actually,’ Cassian responded, and then his face changed as his brain caught up with the words. ‘How the devil do you know that?’
‘Because I’ve seen it. The same way as you did.’
Cassian sat up in a jerk. ‘He robbed you too?’
‘Of course not: I’ve nothing to steal. His name’s Martin Nichols. He’s a . . . friend, I suppose.’
Cassian was staring at him. ‘You knew who he was all along?’
Daizell rolled his eyes. ‘If I had, I’d have spared myself a lot of time in stagecoaches. Iwouldhave known all along if you’d told me you’d tupped him and what happened. That’s a lot more distinctive than a mulberry coat.’
‘You’re friends with a thief?’
‘He’s a valet,’ Daizell said. ‘Or he was, until an unfortunate incident left him with the sort of reference that does you no good.’
‘You mean he robbed his master?’
‘Yes and no.’ Daizell had no great urge to defend Martin, but he also had strong feelings about false accusations. ‘His master, uh, wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had his way by force, and told Martin afterwards it was his fault forputting temptation in his way. So, working on that principle, Martin helped himself to all the valuables he could carry, and left. I grant that’s theft, if you want to apportion blame, but in the circumstances—’
‘No.’ Cassian looked rather sick. ‘I see.’
‘He’s got a bit of a temper, and little fondness for gentlemen, and if you heard some of his stories, nor would you have.’
‘I see. And you are, or you were, lovers?’
‘We used to fuck,’ Daizell said, which wasn’t quite the whole truth. ‘He can be charming – you know that. We got on very well for a while, only . . . ugh. He was determined to be independent.I care for nobody, and nobody cares for me, that was his song. But, like a fool, I did start to care for him, and he didn’t like it. We had quite the pretty row, in which he made it very clear I wasn’t necessary to his happiness, and he walked out.’
‘Oh, the swine,’ Cassian said, with startling venom. ‘The miserable swine.’
‘That’s Martin. Anyway, now we know who stole your ring, which means we can find him, pick him up by his heels, and shake him till the ring falls out.’
