Page 17 of The Demons of Wychwood

Cor, blimey! This Napier was a tricky bastard and no mistake. He had Kit terrified of his nature and family disgrace.

“But Napier comes to Wychwood, and men of society know it? Wouldn’t he be shamed and punished too?”

“In these circles he’s untouchable. Edward said he’s doing this as a kindness, as a duty.”

I turned that information over in my head. I could imagine a powerful man like Napier believed he was untouchable, but all men answer to their maker, and for some men, the fear of that final judgment was all that would frighten them into submission.

“How can this arrangement between you have been going on for six years? You’re twenty-four, yes?”

“Please sit-down Felix,” Kit gestured to the hearth chair opposite. But before I sat, I strode to the credenza and poured a glass of brandy for him. He accepted the tumbler appreciatively and took a swallow. I sat warming myself by the fire and waited for him to talk.

“My connection with Edward goes back a long way,” Kit began, “My father, Charles Havelock, Duke of Penhelligan was killed fourteen years ago during the Sikh war of 1846. I was ten, and my sister Georgia was just a year old, and so my mother, Eleanor was left widowed with two young children. Edward Napier was my father’s best friend, and we were familiar with him visiting. Mother was fond of him. We all missed Papa, and so having Edward around was a comfort of sorts. Over many months it appears he worked his way into my mother’s affections—and the vacancy my father left. Napier married my mother a year after father died. He was kind to me when I was younger, and I saw him as a father figure, but things changed when I grew into manhood.”

“How did things change?”

“The way he looked at me, the way he touched me.” Kit paused. “Whenever we were alone, he would sit too close, run his hand down my back, grip my thigh. He told me how he felt sorry that I would not know what a good strong man my father was. That it was his duty to be an influence, to ensure I became a fine man for when I was required to take up the duties of my title. I liked the contact and told myself it was paternal and showed that he cared. But my demon nature…my attraction to other boys had already shown itself. I didn’t understand back then how wrong it was. It felt natural to me, I even had a special friend at school—” Kit looked up at me as if to ensure I understood what he meant.

“Oh, that kind of friend.”

“Yes. Singeon was a terribly sweet boy, and at school we were stuck together like peas in a pod. We japed around in private and even though I was more reserved about our friendship, Singeon’s love of classical Greek poetry and his dreamy nature meant that he couldn’t keep his feelings for me private. In the holidays we wrote to one another. His letters were always of a more …salacious nature, quoting lines of homoerotic Greek poetry. I returned from riding one morning and discovered that Edward had opened one of my letters.”

“How old were you?”

“Sixteen, I think…I was changing clothes after my ride. Edward asked my valet to leave us alone. I was half-clothed and confused as to why my stepfather was so angry. He waved Singeon’s letter in my face and told me he knew what I was. I was an invert, an abomination, a sinner and he would not have my sin ruin everything he had worked for. I was mortified. Edward told me to end my friendship with Singeon at once and do everything he commanded, otherwise he would tell mother of my true nature, and she would abandon me. I didn’t receive my inheritance until I turned twenty and so I was completely dependent on my mother and her husband. At first, I refused to drop Singeon, he was my best friend and a dear, sweet boy, but Edward hit me—slapped me across the face. I was so shocked that he’d dared lay a hand on me. In the years he had been with my family he’d never physically punished me like that. I recall that it excited him, but I couldn’t move. I was just frozen with shock.”

“What a bastard!” Anger bubbled under my skin, and I knew that if Edward bloody Napier walked into this room, I’d have dragged him down the hill to London Zoo and fed him to the bloomin’ lions without a care.

“Then as the years passed, he began to tighten his grip on me. Edward told me that he’d spoken to our priest, seeking advice on how to help me. The priest told him Satan and his demons use temptation and desire to lead us away from God. With my ungodly inverted desires, I’d become a tool of Satan. Edward said it was his solemn duty to try and find a way to relieve me of my abhorrence and guide me back onto God’s path. He wasn’t intimate with me until I was nineteen, but by then I’d endured years of his jibes, whispers, and threats and control. He had me so browbeaten and riddled with self-loathing that I would do anything I could to please him.” Kit paused to fortify himself with a sip of brandy.

“I was horrified when he said that the only way to rid me of my sin was to feed the demon until we could find a way to remove it. I would have done anything he asked of me back then. I prayed so hard and thought that if I was submissive Edward would be pacified and my secret would remain between us. But Edward developed a taste for having power over me and giving me pain. He assured that whatever he did was God’s will. I’ve been trapped in the arrangement ever since.”

“How did you end up here, at Wychwood?”

Kit tossed the brandy back before replying. “When I took my hereditary seat in the House of Lords, Edward said it was imperative that I did not disgrace the family by falling for London’s vices, visiting gaming hells, or molly houses. He told me he’d found a place where men went to rid themselves of the sickness. I thought it was a monastery or hospital he was talking about…I hoped I could be rid of this for good.” Kit paused and met my eyes. “You must think me terribly naïve.”

Hearing Kit’s story made all of my protective urges come to the surface again. “No milord. I think you’ve been lied to, manipulated, and wronged for so long you’re afraid of your own shadow and it ain’t right.”

I knew what it was like to be caged by a bully who was supposed to behave like a father. I got away from my bully, and so would Kit, cos I knew there and then, call it fate or destiny, but our paths had crossed for a reason. I was meant to help him.

In an almost dreamy voice he said, “For a time I didn’t think Edward was a bad man, cruel and brutal, yes, but not evil. His rough use of me made me fear my very nature, and I never dared go near another who held the same tastes, which I guess was exactly what he wanted to achieve,” Kit said. “But I cannot go on like this,” he sighed.

The telling seemed to have given him some comfort and a little of the coiled-up fear had left him.

“Can I speak freely milord?”

“Nothing’s stopped you so far!”

“Well, the way I sees it, you’ve had this Napier pouring poison in your ear for your whole life, telling you that fancying men’s a sickness. The clergy spout all that ‘fire and brimstone’ nonsense about giving in to desire feeding the devil. But most of those musty old buggers wouldn’t know love if it bit them on the arse. But I know better.”

“Is that right?” Kit drawled, “And what do you know?” There was a mocking tone to that statement.

“I know that I’ve seen temples in India where there are carvings of men entwined making love with other men. I’ve seen my brothers in arms turn to one another for comfort and feel no shame. I know that I’ll love who I damn well like. If there’s a God, this is how he made me. Did God make a mistake and make me wrong for wanting to lay with men?” I asked. Havelock stared at me, shocked by my outburst.

“I ain’t wrong and I ain’t sick and I can’t see a loving God punishing me for the way he made me. The only ones who punish men like us are other men who are scared of things that are different.”

Kit’s eyes grew wide with outrage. “But…but…you can’t say that, it’s blasphemous!”

“And Napier…a mortal man…telling you that you have a demon inside you isn’t? Who made him the judge? Does the cove have a magic cock or something? Cos he seems to think violent buggery is a cure-all!” I exclaimed fiercely. Havelock gasped and his hand flew to cover his mouth.