Master Apprentice Archive Unspoken Love Quick search:

Unspoken Love

by Artemis ( jedilover99@hotmail.com )

Archive: M/A and my site

Pairing: Qui/Obi (main pairing) Xan/Obi, Obi/others

Rating: NC-17

Category: Alternate reality, hurt/comfort, drama

Warnings: Non-consensual sex, physical abuse

Disclaimer: George, Jude

Feedback: Oh, yes!

Notes: This story first appeared (one year ago) in Sian's "A Force of a Different Color" zine. And was nominated for a Sizzler Award. Yay! ^_^

Special thanks to Alex for her fabulous betaship and friendship; Mona for encouraging me to write this; and Sian for publishing this in her zine.

This story will be up on my site once it has been posted here in its entirety. Artemis' Temple of Fanfiction http://www.geocities.com/jedilover99/

Summary: In early 19th century England, Lord Quentin Jinn takes under his wing an abused and mute stable boy known only as Ben.

Five miles. Not such a great distance when one considered the length and breadth of England, but to Lord Quentin Jinn it was five miles more than he wanted to travel this evening.

"Really, Uncle, I still don't understand why you don't want to go to this party," Charlotte said, her rich, brown curls bouncing as their carriage swayed over the dirt road.

"We weren't invited," Lord Jinn said, sparing his niece a glance before returning his attention out the window to survey his lands.

"We most certainly were! You saw the invitation yourself!" the young woman chastised him.

"The invitation arrived two days ago. That young man has been in residence for nearly a month and he's never once bothered to call."

The girl laughed. "But dear Uncle, you've never been concerned with proper etiquette before."

He did not respond and it was then that Charlotte understood. He did not want to lose her...

She had met Guy Xanatos while shopping in the village several days ago and had not stopped talking about him since. Her dear Uncle Quentin had listened patiently, but when the invitation to the party arrived the following day, he grew uneasy with her excitement. Xanatos's main residence was in London, but he was summering on his estate in the countryside. He was not nearly as wealthy as her Uncle Quentin, but his fortune was secure and his appearance beguiling with a slender figure and hair of raven black.

Charlotte was the only family that Quentin had in his life. She and her mother, his beloved sister, had lived with him for many years. When her mother succumbed to a fever and died just four years ago, the girl's upbringing was left to her uncle. The responsibility of raising a young lady made him overly protective.

He should marry, Charlotte thought for the hundredth time. He needs someone to love, not as a protector and a father, but as a man needs love.

Though the girl was inexperienced and completely ignorant of matters of sex, she had read enough romance stories to fill her pretty head with notions of love. She imagined that there was one perfect mate for everyone and she hoped she had just met hers. Now she needed to find someone for her uncle.

That can't be difficult, she thought, though she could not fathom why he had never married before. He was tall and quite handsome even if he did wear a beard and long, neatly pulled back hair. Both were most certainly out of fashion. He was also a fine, if modest dresser. She was certain she could find him a good match.

At Glen Haven, Xanatos's estate, their carriage pulled into the torchlit courtyard and was met by footmen wearing burgundy waistcoats, white breeches and silk stockings, and polished black shoes. Lord Jinn was impressed with the obvious attention to details, but Charlotte, he saw, was totally bewitched. He sighed, knowing the girl barely of courting age, was imagining herself the lady of this home.

Their host greeted them in the drawing room where many of the other guests had already assembled. The young lord of the manor was dressed strikingly in all black, save for a crisp, white cravat. His straight, black hair was cut all one length to the nape of the neck and smoothed back. Quentin found him hospitable and watched with keen interest as Guy made his way around the room conversing with each of his guests. Additionally, he seemed to treat his new staff gently even when a slight error was made in timing at dinner. Quentin could see plainly that Charlotte was smitten.

The party was such a success that it was nearly midnight before the guests began to depart. At Charlotte's insistence, Quentin escorted the widowed Mrs. Phillips out to her carriage.

"My dear Lord Jinn, you are most kind to see me out. It was such a lovely party and I am saddened for its ending," the pretty young widow said.

"There will be other parties," Quentin said, smiling politely at the woman.

His niece had been trying to get him to speak with Mrs. Phillips all evening, and he had managed to avoid her until now. It was not that the woman was unpleasant or unattractive, but merely that he did not have an interest in her. He did not have an interest in anyone.

"You really should get out more. There have been some very fine parties this season and Charlotte needs to be seen."

Quentin raised an eyebrow. "She's fifteen," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes, my point exactly. In another year or two there will be several more young ladies coming of age and the competition will be quite unbearable. You must consider Charlotte's future."

"Mrs. Phillips, I think that..." Just as Quentin was about to explain that Charlotte's prospects for a future husband were none of her concern, there was a terrible noise just beyond the courtyard.

"Whatever is that?" Mrs. Phillips asked as shouts rang out.

Quentin did not need to reply for the answer came bounding into the courtyard... a pack of dogs. The master of the house's great danes were fighting over a dead rabbit that one of the dogs had in its mouth.

In their fury to get a piece of the rabbit the dogs were barking and biting at each other and their roughness was frightening the horses. The dogs were out of control and even the servants were unable to calm them. In all the commotion, several of the horses reared up and neighed loudly. The noise startled the dogs, who snapped at them.

Quentin was infuriated. "Where is Mr. Xanatos?" he called out to one of the servants.

Just then, Guy came running out of the house. "What is all the commotion?" he asked and then quickly saw for himself. "Mr. Edwards! Get your hunting rifle, man!" Then the young lord turned to Mrs. Phillips and the other guests who had been about to depart and encouraged them to go back into the house. "Please, go inside until we can put things right."

All the guests but Quentin fled the scene. By the time the area had been cleared, Mr. Edwards had returned with the rifle. He knew just what to do. He fired a shot into the air, startling the dogs out of their frenzy and sending them out of the courtyard.

"Go after them!" Xanatos said, his voice bellowing in the courtyard.

Even after the dogs had gone, and several of the servants had run off after them, many of the horses were still agitated and threatening to tip the carriages to which they were harnessed. The stable master and several more servants were trying to calm the horses, holding some by the reins.

"Ben!" the stable master called out. "Where is that boy?"

Quentin and Xanatos stepped into the fray just as a young man came rushing to the scene. Quentin watched in fascination as the youth approached a horse, looked it directly in the eyes and then gently laid his hand on its nose. Without speaking a word the boy calmed the horse and then moved to the next one, treating it in the same peaceful manner.

The last horse to be tended to was one of Quentin's. The man now saw that the horse had been injured and he rushed over to see what had happened. The young stable hand was holding the dark horse by its bridle and petting its nose in long, gentle strokes while the stable master examined its leg.

"She's been cut... badly," Mr. Colby, the stable master said as he looked up at Lord Jinn. "She won't make the journey tonight, sir."

Xanatos joined them. "Please accept my humblest apologies, Lord Jinn. Your mare will be in good hands, and I must insist that you and your niece spend the night."

Quentin barely heard a word spoken to him. Though he was concerned for his horse, his eyes were fixed on the motion of that young man's hand soothing the animal.

"Thank you," he said, as though in a strange trance as he stared at the youth.

The stable hand's eyes met his for a brief moment and then dropped away.

"Lord Jinn, please allow my servants to tend to your horse," Guy repeated, realizing that the man was not listening.

"Y-yes, thank you," Quentin said again, shaking his head a little and looking at his host. "Your offer of accommodation is most gracious."

"Oh, it's the least I can do, really," Guy said and then escorted Quentin back into the estate.

That night as Quentin lay in the guest room bed, his mind worried over the condition of his horse. She was a favorite and he would hate to lose her. He had worked hard to procure only the finest animals and his stable was the envy of the land.

He went over the incident with the dogs and his thoughts quickly settled on the stable hand. "Ben," he said aloud, certain that was the young man's name. Quentin had never seen anyone calm a frightened horse so easily before, and without speaking a word.

The next morning, after breakfast with his niece and Guy, Quentin walked out to the stables to check on his mare. It was still quite early, but the servants were already deep in their daily chores.

The stable master met him at the stable door.

"Morning, m'lord," the man said, bowing slightly.

"Good morning, Mr. Colby. What news have you of my mare?"

"After we cleaned her leg last night we discovered the cuts weren't too serious, but she will need rest. It'll be a few days before she's healed enough to make the ride back to Fairfield."

"I understand," Quentin said, looking past the man to the long row of stalls behind him. "May I see her?"

"Of course, sir. Please follow me."

The two men walked past several stalls to where his mare was being kept. When he stepped up to the stall, looking inside the gate, Quentin was surprised to see the young man from the night before. The youth was grooming his horse and Quentin could have sworn the horse was content with his presence.

"Ben," Mr. Colby said as he opened the gate. "Step back, so that Lord Jinn may see."

The young man never looked up. He took two steps away from the horse and kept his eyes down, his long sandy blond hair hiding his face.

Quentin stepped inside with Mr. Colby. He ran his hand along the mare's neck and down her front leg until it reached the bandaged area.

"Did you bandage her?" he asked the young stable hand.

The youth did not look up or answer him.

"I say, are you the one who tended to her?" Quentin asked again, unused to servants not responding to direct questions.

"He can't answer you, m'lord," Mr. Colby said. "He's dumb."

"Dumb?" Quentin asked.

"Yes, sir. He can't speak."

Quentin was surprised by this. Certainly the young man seemed intelligent enough the evening before. The way he had handled the horses was impressive, but it was true he had not heard the youth so much as utter a single word.

He stepped closer to the stable hand and boldly took the youth's chin in hand and raised his head. Intense blue-green eyes met his, although shyly.

"Has he always been this way?" Quentin asked, as he turned the youth's face to look at him more closely. He had fine features, in addition to the amazing eyes he had an angelic face whimsically embellished by two beauty marks.

"Yes, sir. Hasn't spoken a word since he came to work here last summer. Doesn't even cry out when he's beaten for ill behavior."

Quentin released the boy's chin. "Beaten?" he asked, turning back to the stable master.

"Yes, m'lord. He has a willful streak in him. Been known to run away on occasion."

"I see," Quentin said, but knowing that this fine youth had been beaten saddened him. At the party, Guy had seemed perfectly civil with his servants. Now it seemed there was another side to how he ran his estate.

"Thank you for your care of my horse. I'll be returning to Fairfield now. I trust you'll bring her when she is sufficiently healed."

"Yes, m'lord. With pleasure, m'lord."

It was nearly a week before the mare was returned to the stables at Fairfield. But to Quentin's surprise, it was not Mr. Colby who brought her back, but the young stable hand, Ben.

"Ben, is it?" Lord Jinn asked as he joined his stable master and the youth in front of the stables.

The young man nodded.

"I'm rather surprised to see you. I expected Mr. Colby to bring my mare back."

Mr. Delaney, the estate's stable master, was also puzzled by this, and looked warily at the boy.

The young man seemed to notice the stable master's inquisitive stare and bowed his head slightly, hiding his eyes behind his long bangs.

"Mr. Delaney, please tend to my mare and this young man's mount," Lord Jinn said and then he returned his attention to the young man. "Please, come with me."

Ben stepped forward, slowly, and followed the lord of the manor, careful to remain several steps behind. Quentin found this irritating, but knew it was not proper for someone of Ben's station to walk at his side. He led him to the servants' kitchen where he asked Mrs. Delaney to prepare them tea.

The big man sat down at the long, utilitarian table and nodded for Ben to sit across from him. It was not uncommon for Lord Jinn to visit with Mrs. Delaney here. The woman had been a family servant since he was a small boy and he often felt he could confide in her or just talk about everyday things with her.

The cook poured a cup of tea for her master and then the stable boy before setting the pot on the table and returning to her cooking.

"I trust your ride was uneventful," Quentin said.

Ben's eyes stayed firmly focused on his cup of tea on the table.

These non-answers disturbed Quentin, but it gave him an opportunity to observe the young man more closely. He was young, eighteen or so he guessed, and had lived a hard life. His clothes were dusty from the road, his hair unwashed and disheveled, and his posture was a bit defeated.

"Please drink up. Mrs. Delaney makes the finest cup of tea between here and London," Quentin said with a grin.

The cook looked over her shoulder at her master and smiled. She wondered about the strange young man, but it was not the first time a person in need had been sat down at this table and then offered a position on the estate.

At last, Ben raised the tea to his lips and took a sip. Quentin could tell the refreshment was welcome, but still the young man would not meet his eyes. He wondered how people communicated with him.

"I'm pleased you brought my mare back. You must stay, get some dinner, and sleep here before heading back to your master."

With those words, the young man's hands trembled and he hastily set his cup down, making a clatter on the saucer.

"Is something the matter, young man?" Quentin asked.

The only response was a look of fright in the young man's eyes before he lowered his eyes again.

Whatever could I have said to frighten him? Quentin wondered. "There's a spare room in the servants' quarters. I'm sure Mrs. Delaney can arrange for you to sleep there."

"Of course, sir," Mrs. Delaney said as she turned to set some biscuits on the table. "And he can join us for dinner." Ben looked up at the woman and a small smile curved at his lips. He seemed more at ease with her and the woman smiled back. "That's a good boy. You'll be fed and well rested before your journey home tomorrow."

"I'll leave you two then. Thank you, Mrs. Delaney," Lord Jinn said as he stood.

"Thank you, sir," she said and pushed the plate of biscuits towards the thin youth.

As Quentin left the kitchen and rounded the corner toward the stables he caught sight of Mr. Delaney heading his way.

"Begging your pardon, sir," the man said as he came up to him.

"Yes, Mr. Delaney? Is there a problem with my horse?"

"No, sir. She's in fine health. It's that young man, sir."

"Yes?"

"I've heard stories about him, m'lord. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous? How so?" Quentin asked, surprised by the warning.

"I've heard he's unwell... and violent."

"Really? He seems perfectly calm to me, Mr. Delaney."

"But he's dumb, m'lord. It's plain to see."

Instead of dismissing the man's opinion, Quentin took it seriously. This was the second person that had warned him of the youth's ill-temperament, and he suddenly realized the muteness could be a symptom of mental illness.

"I've just told your wife to find him a place in the servants' quarters for the night. He will be joining you for dinner, but if you like you may make other sleeping arrangements for him."

"Thank you, sir," Mr. Delaney said and then continued on his way to the kitchen.

The next morning Ben woke to shouts and heavy hands. Mr. Delaney was standing over him in the hay barn where he had rested the night.

"I thought it odd that he brought back Lord Jinn's horse," Mr. Delaney said to the two men who were yanking the youth up from his blanket.

"We thought he'd made off with the horse," one of the men explained as he shoved Ben against the wall forcefully. "Then Mr. Colby thought to have us check here."

"He brought her back yesterday afternoon," Mr. Delaney was saying, swallowing hard at the men's roughness. "I should've sent a servant with a message...."

"We was more concerned for your safety. This one's a bit of a problem, but he has a way with horses and Mr. Xanatos finds him useful."

By now Ben was struggling under the grip of the two surly men who were prepared to drag him back to Xanatos's estate.

"Please convey my master's gratitude to Lord Jinn for giving the boy a place to stay the night."

"Thank you, I will," Mr. Delaney said and continued to watch, a bit uncomfortably, as the men tied Ben's wrists together.

He walked with them to their horses and was surprised that they did not let the young man mount the horse he had ridden in on the day before. Instead, they were going to make him walk back the five miles. Mr. Delaney wanted to object, but it was not his place to question another master's methods.

When Lord Jinn came downstairs to his sun room for breakfast later that morning, his butler informed him of the retrieval of Xanatos's servant.

"Two men came early this morning to take him back, sir. Seems he didn't have permission to leave the estate."

Quentin paused over his morning tea at the news. Perhaps Mr. Delaney had been right to warn him about the boy. But then why was he sad to hear that Ben was gone?

That afternoon Ben's punishment continued. He was exhausted from walking back to Glen Haven and was not even given the chance to quench his thirst before Mr. Colby began his beating.

With his wrists still tied in front of him, Ben was struck in the face. The impact of the blow sent him sprawling onto the dirt floor of the stable.

"You bring this on yourself, boy. You're not to leave this estate," Mr. Colby said. Then he was on him, pulling the younger man's trousers down and sliding his fingers in the crack of his ass, searching for his opening. Ben bucked beneath him, but it did not deter the man's advances.

The sound of a man clearing his throat interrupted the stable master's game. He stopped and turned to find his master standing in the doorway.

"Master," the man said stumbling to his feet and bowing.

"I trust you were preparing him for me?" Xanatos grinned lustfully.

"Yes, Master. Shall I have him laid out for your pleasure?"

"Yes, but have him bathed first. He smells of horses and the road," Xanatos said, delicately waving a scented handkerchief under his nose.

"Yes, Master."

He waited until Xanatos was gone and then he returned to his rough attention of the boy. Out of fear of his master, Colby would never fuck Ben, but he knew he could have a bit of fun with him and get away with it.

He rammed his un-slicked fingers up the boy's ass while jerking himself off with his other hand. He came on the boy's behind and then removing his fingers, ordered him to take a bath. Once Ben was washed, Colby and another man took him to a special room in the servants' quarters, a room set aside for the master's trysts. They stripped him of his clothes, pushed him face down on the bed and tied his wrists to the bedposts. Surprisingly, the boy did not put up much of a fight. The two men caressed and fondled him before leaving and it was nearly an hour later before the master of the house joined him.

Ben was sleeping when Xanatos came into the room. The man admired the lean muscle and fair skin of his servant before he sat on the bed, waking him.

"I'm glad you're home, Ben. You had us all worried."

The young man closed his eyes at the mockery of those words.

"You know I favor you," Xanatos said, as his gloved hands began to explore Ben's bound body. "But I am disappointed. I had planned to take that mare back to Fairfield myself," he said, removing his hands and fumbling with the fastenings on the front of his trousers. He was already hard, had been getting hard as he walked from the main house to this secluded room. Fucking Ben was one of his favorite pastimes.

"I'm feeling a bit wild today," Xanatos said as he spread and then knelt between Ben's thighs. He leaned forward, pressing his hard cock at the boy's opening and then whispered in his ear, "If I were you, I'd try very hard to please me."

And with that he pulled Ben's hips toward him as he shoved his cock inside. "Ahhh," he moaned. "Heavens you're tight. Mr. Colby didn't do a very good job preparing you."

As he began to thrust in and out he continued with his belittling talk. "I'm not in the mood for one of your cold fish performances. I want you to move!" And with a loud groan Xanatos rammed himself completely inside the unwilling body.

If Ben had been capable of vocalizing he would have surely cried out now, but instead he clenched the ropes at his hands and squeezed his eyes closed tight. It actually pleased Xanatos that his stable boy remained silent. It made him feel that much more powerful. He could rut and drive into him, groaning and mumbling all sorts of lewd remarks and the young man never protested vocally. Xanatos moved the young man's hips for him and in only a few minutes he came, biting Ben's right shoulder viciously, breaking the skin and marking him.

The next day, Quentin took his niece out riding and allowed her to persuade him to stop at Xanatos's estate. He told himself that he was only thinking of her, but deep down he knew something else was driving him. He wanted to see Ben.

Xanatos was delighted by their unexpected visit and asked them to stay to lunch with him. After the light, but savory meal, the young master gave them a tour of his gardens before they announced their departure.

In the courtyard, as they waited for their horses to be brought to them, Quentin spotted Ben carrying a bale of straw. He was surprised to feel a slight flutter in his stomach on seeing the young man and asked Xanatos to call him over, claiming that he wanted to thank the young man again for returning his mare.

Ben set the bale down and came over to the group, keeping his eyes downcast. Quentin was shocked to see a large bruise on the young man's left cheek.

"What happened to him?" Quentin asked Guy.

"Most unfortunate... he was kicked by one of the horses," Guy said.

Quentin narrowed his eyes on the injury. That was hard to believe, especially knowing how well horses responded to the young man. As Lord Jinn focused on Ben he noticed too the distressing red marks around his wrists. The young man's sleeves were rolled up.

"And what are those?" he asked, pointing to the angry marks.

"My men didn't want to take any chances with him yesterday when they brought him back to Glen Haven."

"You mean they secured him?" Quentin asked, shocked.

"Yes, it is not an uncommon practice," Guy said, feeling a bit put out by this inquisition.

"Not uncommon for criminals, but surely servants are treated better."

"Uncle!" Charlotte said with a gasp. She was mortified that her uncle would embarrass her in front of her prospective suitor.

"No, he's quite right, Miss Charlotte," Guy said, calmly and then turned to Quentin. "I wish there were another way, Lord Jinn, but Ben can be a handful."

"And yet you keep him on?"

"You see why... he's good with the horses."

All while this conversation about Ben was going on, the young man kept completely still and his eyes averted. Quentin had seen animals act this way, abused animals who feared their master.

"What would you say to letting him work for me for a time?" Quentin asked suddenly, surprising himself.

"Work for you?" Guy asked with a little laugh. "I dare say you couldn't handle him, and besides, I have need of him here."

"Yes, I understand he is a valuable hand with the horses. Perhaps there is something I could give you in return?"

"An exchange?"

Quentin nodded.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Name your price."

Guy considered carefully. It seemed his neighbor wanted the boy. He could not blame him. Ben had a hidden passion in his eyes, sweet lips and a delectable, round ass. An exchange could be good business, but it would be even better if he let Quentin "borrow" Ben for a few weeks. The loan would make him look generous in the eyes of young Charlotte and would go a long way to strengthening their growing relationship.

"I would be honored for Ben to work for you in exchange for... nothing."

"Nothing?" Quentin and Charlotte asked in unison.

"Yes, nothing. Let his labor be a gift to you and your charming niece... say for the next few weeks?"

"That is very generous of you."

Guy smiled, pleased at the response. "Well then, Ben you best get your things and a horse for the journey to Fairfield."

The young man did not hesitate. For once his feet were light as he ran off to gather his only possessions, a change of clothes and a comb. He returned moments later with a horse in tow.

Quentin and Charlotte mounted their horses and waited for Ben to join them. Quentin was surprised when Guy walked over to speak with Ben privately. He supposed the man was telling his servant to obey his new master.

Guy leaned in close to Ben's ear and whispered. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to visit."

The boy's face turned ashen and Quentin felt a concern well in his belly. He called out for Ben to hurry.

Guy walked back to stand next to Charlotte's dappled-gray mare. "Lovely to see you again, Miss Charlotte." Then looking to Quentin he asked, "May I call later in the week?"

Reluctantly, Lord Jinn agreed to the request. "Yes, please visit, any time." And with that he spurred his horse on and he and Charlotte and their new servant headed back to Fairfield.

When they arrived at the estate, Quentin walked with Ben to the stables to inform Mr. Delaney that he had a new charge.

The stable master was not as put out as Quentin had expected. In fact, the man insisted that the boy be given a proper room in the stables. After Lord Jinn dismissed Ben to go get something to eat in the kitchen, he took his stable man aside to inquire as to his change of heart.

"It's the missus, sir," Mr. Delaney explained. "She's taken a liking to the boy. I think he reminds her of our Thomas who's been working in London these last months. And..."

"And?"

"Sir, I know it's not my place to question things, but I saw how rough Mr. Xanatos's men treated young Ben when they came for him yesterday morning. He didn't fight them, sir. He wasn't wild like we'd been told."

Lord Jinn nodded. Yes, there seemed to be a lot of misinformation being passed around about the young man. "It's all right, Mr. Delaney. And I'm glad you're comfortable with the idea of Ben working here for a time."

"Yes, sir. Everyone is talking about his magic with the horses."

"Magic?"

"Oh, just superstitious talk, sir. But Ben has a way with horses I've never seen before."

"That he does," Lord Jinn said, nodding. "And Mr. Delaney. Please send for Dr. Foley. I'd like him to examine Ben's injuries."

"Right away, sir!"

Doctor Foley arrived in the early evening and examined Ben by lantern light in the servants' kitchen while Lord Jinn paced outside. The examination was short, but thorough and then the doctor came outside to give his diagnosis.

"You were told he was kicked by a horse?" he asked.

"Yes," Lord Jinn said, watching his friend rolled down his sleeves and button them at the cuffs.

"There are other marks on that young man. Marks that tell a different story."

Quentin was afraid the doctor might say that, but he had to know. "Go on, Richard. We've been friends too long for you to hold anything back from me."

His friend nodded. Though he was not eager to accuse anyone of wrong doing, it was obvious Ben had been treated poorly. "He has been severely abused... over a long period of time."

Quentin considered his words a moment. "Is that why he doesn't speak? Did someone injure his vocal chords somehow?"

"I looked at his throat as you asked and everything appears healthy there. His muteness doesn't seem to be caused by an accident or an injury. But it's certainly made him prey to those who would abuse him."

"Then he could speak if he wanted to?" Lord Jinn asked, hopeful.

"It's not that simple. The workings of the mind are still unknown to us. I have seen deaf people use their hands to communicate, but Ben shows no such ability which leads me to believe he is suffering from an unknown disorder."

"Then you think he's dumb?" Quentin asked though he was prepared to defend the youth's intelligence.

"There are plenty who would say he is, and any number of doctors who would put him in an asylum..."

"That's absurd! You were in there with him... did he exhibit any signs of insanity?"

"No, but he also did not exhibit a wide range of social skills either. He is calm enough and I don't believe he's a threat, but just the same you should keep an eye on him and call me if you see anything unusual."

The nobleman was about to protest his friend's diagnosis and friendly warning, but instead he decided to concentrate on Ben's needs. The poor lad must have lived a transient and lonely life. At least for the next few weeks he could live in peace at Fairfield.

"May I go in to see him?"

"Yes, of course," the doctor said and the two men entered the kitchen as Ben was tucking his long white shirt into his trousers.

"Ben, Dr. Foley tells me you are in fine health, except for the bruises."

The young man nodded.

"You won't need to worry about being mistreated here. At Fairfield all my servants are treated with respect and if anyone causes trouble we dock pay or take away privileges such as fishing at the lake," Lord Jinn told him.

Ben's eyes grew wide.

"Yes, you may fish at the lake and Mrs. Delaney will be only too happy to fry what you catch," Quentin said with a smile. Then he turned to his friend. "Thank you again, Richard. Will you dine with me later in the week?"

"Yes, thank you. I'll look forward to it."

After the doctor had gone, Quentin sat down at the large, wooden kitchen table. "Would you care to sit down?" he asked, noticing the young man seemed unsure what to do next.

With the encouragement, Ben sat down a safe distance away. His eyes drifted to the other man's and then he turned his face away.

"It's all right. You may look at me when we speak," Quentin told him.

Ben returned his gaze, and in the warm glow of the lantern light they were fabulously intense, dark eyes looking out at him from behind the soft fall of reddish-blond hair.

Quentin wanted to touch the young man, take his face in his hands and... The thought surprised him. He had not had such desires in many years and to feel this way about another man, though not unheard of, was certainly not socially acceptable. Not only was Ben of the same sex, but he was also of a lower class.

"I've arranged for more comfortable accommodations for you in the stables. You should do fine with Mr. Delaney. He's a good man and is already pleased with how you handle the horses."

Ben nodded.

"Good, I'm glad you understand. You'll be quite safe here, you know."

The boy nodded again and let his gaze drift away.

Quentin stood and the boy hurried to his feet. "Good night, Ben."

With a slight bow, Ben seemed to be saying good night and thanking him as well.

Over the next week, Ben set about learning Mr. Delaney's work habits, but more importantly the personalities of the horses in their care. He had a connection with beasts of all sizes and nature. He could communicate with them in a way he could not with people. He supposed it was because the animals did not see the importance of the language of man... like him, they relied on instinct.

The horses took to him quickly and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Ben was feeling at ease with his surroundings. Mr. and Mrs. Delaney had taken him under their wing, treating him as a son. The plump Mrs. Delaney had told him of her own son's stuttering speech as a child. It was hardly the same as being mute, but Ben appreciated her attempt at making him comfortable.

As he settled into his new job, the mystery of Lord Jinn's kindness lingered. Did the man really care? Was that why he had questioned Mr. Xanatos about his injuries and subsequently removed him from Glen Haven? Did he feel sorry for the poor, mute boy? Or was it merely an interest in Ben's skill with horses? The horses at Fairfield were by far the finest in the land. Even the work horses had a quality of superiority about them.

But the strangest part of the lord's generosity had been his curiosity in Ben, for the youth could call it nothing but that. Once, Ben had caught him watching him from a window in the estate house. At first he had assumed Lord Jinn was looking after the well being of his horses by observing his new servant's actions, but there had been several more incidents, and Ben thought he recognized a look of interest in the man's eyes.

The youth had been aware for many years that men were attracted to him. Even as a lad, he had suffered their unwanted advances. They found him pretty and the fact that he did not speak seemed to give them permission to do as they pleased. He shivered with the memories. Even his current master, Guy Xanatos, looked on him this way, using him as he saw fit. Yes, Ben had run away, but each time he had been caught and brought back only to be beaten and raped again. In a life defined by years of abuse, Ben had grown to reluctantly accept his lot.

As Ben led a horse into a side courtyard for its exercise, he considered Lord Jinn. If he feels sorry for me, it'll wear off soon enough, he thought.

The first time he had looked into Lord Jinn's eyes their blueness and intensity had pierced his soul. He had never seen such kind eyes before. He had seen enough pity, suspicion, anger, disgust and lust in other people's eyes to immediately recognize the difference. But there was something more than kindness in the lord's handsome face, there was need. Subtle as it was, Ben had seen it. What kind of need or how deep it ran, Ben was not sure. He had so little contact with the man.

If he wants me, he should just take me, Ben thought cynically as he led the horse around in a wide circle.

The mysteries and the peacefulness of Fairfield intrigued him. He was sure its true nature and that of its lord would surface... in time.

At mid-afternoon, Ben's workout with the horses came to an abrupt halt as one of the servant's called out that a carriage was coming up the drive. Ben quickly retreated to the stable to find Mr. Delaney. A couple of hand gestures conveyed the news to Mr. Delaney who then went out to meet them.

Charlotte and her friend Eliza had also been informed of the arrival of visitors and the two young ladies ran out to the courtyard to greet the black carriage. Mr. Delaney stood silently by to take the carriage away once its passengers had exited.

No sooner had the carriage stopped, when Mr. Xanatos and a female traveling companion emerged to the delight of young Charlotte.

"What a wonderful surprise," Charlotte said, curtsying to the gentleman and his friend as they lighted from the carriage. Her heart raced excitedly as she took in how handsome Guy looked in his dark green coat, striped vest, and cream trousers with black boots. "You've brought a friend, how delightful," she said, generously, though she feared the competition.

"This is my dear cousin, Miss Catherine Henley. Catherine this is the delightful Miss Charlotte Manchester and...?"

"Oh! This is my good friend Miss Eliza Beasley. Her father is a gentleman in the next county. She's come to stay with me for a time. And how long will you be at Glen Haven, Catherine?"

"Well, that depends on my cousin. How long can he suffer a visit from me?" she asked with a giggle.

The girl's good humor, and the fact that she was a relation of Xanatos, relieved Charlotte of her fears.

"Let's go inside. My uncle is in his study, but I'm sure he'll be delighted to know that we have guests."

Mr. Delaney led the horses and carriage to the stables on his own, frustrated that his stable hand was no where in sight. When he came upon Ben in the stables he frowned. "Where were you?" he asked, but immediately saw in the young man's wide gaze exactly what had kept him away. "Never you mind him, Ben. He won't bother you here."

Ben nodded and then set to work unharnessing the horses. He had watched the entire scene, from a distance. The moment the carriage had come into view, he knew it was Mr. Xanatos and he could not bring himself to be near the man.

Inside the estate house, the guests were treated to freshly baked biscuits and exotic teas. Charlotte was in her glory as she played hostess and performed on the pianoforte with Guy watching her intensely the entire time.

Quentin noticed the young man's interest in his niece and began to consider how he might deter her from this relationship. Certainly there were other eligible young men in the country, men who did not have their servants beaten. The thought brought images of Ben to mind. How the young man had looked worn and used when he first came to Fairfield, but now was beginning to heal. Guy Xanatos had to be blamed. If it could be said that life at Fairfield, under the rule of Lord Jinn, was making a healthy change in the young man, then life at Glen Haven, under the rule of Mr. Xanatos, had beaten him down.

Quentin did not consider himself a social reformer. He helped those in need who came to him and were willing to work to make their lives' better, but he made no effort to seek them out. Ben, however, had struck a nerve in him. He had reached out to him, and into the affairs of a gentleman neighbor. Though no accusations on his part had been made, Quentin wondered if Guy suspected why he had taken Ben away.

Why did I take him? he wondered as he half-listened to his niece's performance. Was it merely to be charitable? Certainly the youth's handling of horses was a good excuse to bring him to Fairfield, but Quentin knew it was more than that, though he was not ready to admit it.

After the evening meal, Quentin retreated to his study once again, satisfied that the girls could chaperone each other in Guy's presence. The group drifted out into one of the gardens, but was not there long when Guy announced that he had left his snuff pouch in the house. Charlotte offered to send a servant to fetch it, but Guy insisted he did not mind the responsibility of looking after his own things.

Of course, the snuff pouch was the last thing on Guy's mind. He had been desperate to see Ben since he had arrived. The boy had eluded him this afternoon, but now he would make an effort to draw him out. The tall hedges in the garden made it simple for Guy to bypass the house unnoticed and make his way to the stables. Ben must be there.

It was dusk and most of the activity on the estate was ending for the day, but as yet the servants had not settled down to their evening meal. The man was nothing if not cautious, taking the long way around the cluster of buildings that comprised the servants' quarters. The stable entrance, facing east, was dark, but Guy could see a light coming from inside. He stepped inside, following the light to one of the stalls where he could hear the distinct swoosh and scrape of a straw broom at work and see dust billowing out into the corridor.

Guy licked his lips in anticipation even as he felt his groin stir. It had to be Ben.

The tall gentleman sauntered into the stall and leaned against its wall. Ah, he was right. It was his beautiful Ben. He watched a moment, fascinated by the movement of the boy's body as it stretched in the sweeping motion. Everything about this young man screamed sex, take me, I am yours.

Ben felt the presence behind him and without turning to see, he knew who it was. His body tensed and he stopped his chore.

"They're actually making you work. What a surprise," Guy said, sarcastically. "And I thought you'd be kept in some hidden room in the main house... tied to the bed posts."

The laugh that followed that statement sent a chill down Ben's spine. Where was Mr. Delaney? Where was the call to dinner?

"Come now, Ben. Turn around and let me get a good look at you," Guy said.

Slowly, the young man turned, gripping the handle of the broom tightly. His eyes looked down, seeing only the highly polished black boots of his master. It would have been too much to believe that Guy was here only to check on his new working conditions. The man closed the distance between them in three steps and put his hands on his hips as he stared at the servant before him.

"Wicked creature. You make me hard just looking at you," Guy said and then leaned forward and nuzzled aside Ben's hair to bite his earlobe.

Ben jerked back and Guy yanked the broom from his hands, throwing it to the ground, and grabbing him by the wrists. "Playing hard to get, are you?" Guy asked, laughing. "You know I enjoy a fight." He dove into the young man's mouth, kissing it hungrily.

Without warning, Guy released Ben's wrists and shoved him to the ground. Before the young man could react, Guy was on him, straddling his thighs and taking him by the wrists again, pushing him down into the loose straw pile. "Tell me you've missed me. Oh, that's right you can't speak, what a shame," Guy said, smiling, pleased with himself.

Ben's mind was in a panic. Surely someone would come along to stop this. Mr. Xanatos had no accomplices here. If someone stumbled on them they would stop this madness instead of looking the other way or assisting in the abuse. But all was quiet. The only sounds were the occasional stirrings of the horses and their own heavy breaths as Guy wrestled him into submission.

The stable hand resisted as best he could, but his master was larger and more aggressive. He forced Ben onto his stomach and wrangled his trousers down to his knees.

"I've missed you," Guy said as he looked admiringly at the pale flesh of that bottom. He caressed the round globes with his hands and then squeezed and parted the cheeks. "Has Lord Jinn taken you yet?" he asked, leaning forward to lick the boy's ear. "I'm sure that's what he wanted you for... he was under your spell from the moment he saw you, but you know that don't you, little gypsy?"

It only took a moment for Guy to open his trousers and release his aching erection. "If you're praying for help to come you may as well stop. They all know I'm here with you." He spit in his hand and stroked his cock once and then pressed it firmly to the boy's opening. "I've been thinking about this all afternoon," he said and then thrust hard, sheathing his cock completely in that luscious ass.

Ben arched back, his mouth gaping wide in a voiceless scream. The only sounds were those of the greedy moans of his triumphant attacker.

Some god must have been watching, for the assault was blessedly short. Guy came in six quick, hard thrusts. Ben lay perfectly still as Guy withdrew and righted his clothes.

"Mmm, I may have to visit dear Charlotte more often," he said, sneering at the motionless form on the straw-covered floor. In a more civilized tone he added, "I really must get back to the ladies. They'll be missing me terribly." A final swat to Ben's ass and Guy was gone.

The moment he was alone, Ben pulled up his trousers and crawled to a corner of the stall. His bottom felt raw and ached and he knew it would be sometime before he could sit comfortably again, so he gingerly curled up on his side and held himself tightly. He did not want to cry, but he was so ashamed of what had taken place and of himself for believing that things could be different here at Fairfield that the tears spilled down his cheeks.

As he allowed himself this moment of release, he realized he would never be safe as long as Mr. Xanatos knew where to find him.

I have to leave, Ben thought, as he wiped away his tears.

Back in the house to retrieve his snuff, Guy bumped into Lord Jinn in the hall. "Will you be joining us in the garden?" Guy asked, politely.

"What are your intentions with Charlotte?" Lord Jinn asked, ignoring the question and noting a certain disheveled quality to the young man's appearance that had not been there earlier.

"Your niece is a most charming young lady," Guy said without missing a beat. "My intention is merely to be her friend."

"And what if I said that I did not approve?"

"I would graciously heed your wishes, of course," Guy said, bowing slightly.

Quentin narrowed his eyes on the elegant young man. What was it about Guy Xanatos that he did not like? Was it merely that Charlotte showed an interest in him? Certainly that was part of it, but he did suspect that beneath that exotically beautiful surface lay the tarnished soul of a man who gave the appearance of being trustworthy, but who was actually a master of deceit.

"And what are your wishes, Lord Jinn?" Guy asked, growing uncomfortable with the silence.

"Hmm," Quentin said, trying to determine the best course of action. Charlotte enjoyed this young man's company and unless there was solid proof against his character, she would heartily protest her uncle's concerns. "Take things slowly, Mr. Xanatos. Very slowly."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Guy said, bowing and then withdrew from the older man's presence to join the ladies.

That evening, when Mr. Xanatos and his cousin took their leave, Ben was nowhere to be found. The boy had missed dinner and Mr. Delaney had searched all the buildings on the grounds for him.

"You must tell, Lord Jinn," Mrs. Delaney said to her husband after he came back from tending to the departing carriage.

"Ben was nervous having his master here, that's all. Once he realizes he's gone he'll come 'round."

"I hope you're right," the missus said, putting away the dishes from dinner. "I hate to think that boy's run off."

First thing the next morning, Mr. Delaney checked for Ben in the stables. The lad was not there and his bed was not slept in. He could no longer assume that Ben was just in hiding. He would have to inform Lord Jinn that the young man was gone.

The stable master went up to the main house and asked to see the master. It was several minutes before Quentin came down the marble staircase in his brocade dressing gown and tasseled slippers. He was not accustomed to the servants bothering him so early.

"Good morning, Mr. Delaney. Is there a problem?"

"Morning, sir. Sorry to disturb you so early, but yes, there's something you should know."

"Go on," Quentin said, taking a cup of coffee being offered to him by a young maid.

"Ben is gone, sir."

The words tore through him as if they had been shot from a bow. "Gone?" the lord of the manor asked, setting the cup down hastily in its saucer.

"Yes, sir. I haven't seen him since early last evening..."

"And you're just telling me about it now?" Quentin asked, his voice growing louder.

"Begging your pardon, sir, I didn't know he was missing until this morning."

"But you just said you haven't seen him since last evening."

"That's right, sir. I thought he might be hiding on the grounds. He was nervous with Mr. Xanatos here."

Quentin sighed. How could this have happened? Even from a distance he had thought Ben looked happy. "Saddle my horse," he said and turned to head back upstairs to his room to dress.

"Your horse, sir?" Mr. Delaney asked as he watched the man quickly ascend the stairs.

"Yes, Mr. Delaney. Ben is my responsibility," Lord Jinn answered without turning around.

The stable master stared dumbfounded. Surely it was more appropriate for the servants to go in search.

"Now, Mr. Delaney," the nobleman said as he reached the landing. "And tell your sweet wife to pack me some breakfast."

"Right away, sir," the man said and then darted out of the house.

Lord Jinn refused to be accompanied by any of his servants as he set off to find Ben. It was a fool's errand to go after him. The young man could have headed in any direction and was most certainly miles from the estate by now. However, Quentin refused to be deterred. At least he could eliminate the possibility of Ben heading east toward Glen Haven.

About three miles from the estate house, Quentin came upon a small caravan of painted wagons traveling down the road---gypsies. These transients often camped for a few days on his expansive lands. He tolerated their presence so long as they did not cause any disturbance. This morning he was grateful to see them. They might have news of Ben.

"You there," he called as he rode up to the lead wagon. "Have you seen a young man traveling on foot in the area?"

Holding the reins of the horse-drawn wagon was a boy of only nine or ten, and next to him was an elderly woman with white-streaked black hair.

"A young man... quiet as the dead?" the old woman asked.

"Yes," Quentin said, feeling a chill come over him.

The woman shook her head as if to say 'no,' but then went on. "He has traveled far, but remains near."

"Then you have seen him?" Quentin asked, hopeful.

The boy took sympathy on the gentleman and smiled meekly. "We didn't see anyone on the road, sir, but my grandmother might have seen your friend in a dream. She's a seer."

Quentin nodded. He knew that some of the gypsies claimed to be able to see the future and had visions in dreams. His desire to find Ben made him want to believe.

"Do you know where I might find him?" he asked, his desperation clear.

"In your heart," she said and patted her chest with her hand.

The nobleman blushed hotly. He wanted to protest her assumption, deny any feelings for Ben, but he stopped himself. His own embarrassment made it clear that he did have feelings, even if he could not admit them.

His eyes shifted nervously and then he reached into his vest pocket for a coin and tossed it to the boy. "Thank you," he said and spurred his horse on.

He took his brown steed into a gallop, the beast's hooves clomping in the dry earth, stirring up dust and stones as they went. The landscape went by unnoticed as they raced on, further and further from his estate.

Long minutes passed and the horse's breathing became heavy. A horse bred for beauty and speed and not endurance could not keep up this pace. Quentin halted their progress with a firm pull on the reins, his own heart hammering in his chest as though he had run the distance himself.

What am I doing? he wondered as he looked about. The road was empty. How would he ever find Ben this way? He could ride forever and never see the young man again.

The gypsy woman's words came back to him, unbidden. She had told him to search his heart. That was how he would find Ben.

"Absurd," he muttered aloud. "The woman was speaking in riddles. It's her trade."

Game or no, the old woman's words had struck him deeply, setting off complex emotions from anxiety to elation. He could no longer deny it, he had feelings for Ben, feelings of longing, desire and protectiveness.

He looked to the road ahead. It forked and he knew he had a choice, but which path would bring him to Ben? The old woman had said that Ben had traveled far, but was near. Perhaps the boy had set out and then turned back? Perhaps he had changed his mind about leaving?

Lord Jinn chose the right fork, the road that looped around his lands, taking him back to the estate. Please Ben, let me find you.

There was no plan, just the need to escape. Without consideration, Ben had left Fairfield, taking himself and nothing more, not even a slice of bread from Mrs. Delaney's kitchen. By the time he had set out, the sun had dropped below the horizon, but a bright, watchful moon had guided him. It was foolish to be alone on the roads at night with highwaymen and murderous demons about, but Ben had had no choice. He had to put as many miles between himself and his master as possible.

Despite this need, this fear driving him on, there was another emotion stirring within him, an emotion that begged patience and consideration, an emotion that cried out more loudly the further he walked from Fairfield.

I don't want to leave, he had thought. But remaining was a ridiculous notion. Of course it was tempting to stay where he had been treated with such kindness, but Mr. Xanatos would visit again, and in time demand that he return to Glen Haven.

Fairfield seemed idyllic. The magnificent estate house sat at the center of thirty thousand acres like a jewel atop a gold ring. But all of Fairfield's beauty and assets dimmed in comparison to its master. He was by far the most handsome man Ben had ever seen, and his eyes spoke of kindness and gentleness. This quality intrigued Ben, warmed him into daydreaming that Lord Jinn was some ancient, chivalrous knight come to protect him. But even as he indulged in the daydream, he chided himself for his foolishness. Surely the master and the staff at Fairfield were no different than any of the other beastly men he had encountered before.

In his silent deliberation, Ben unconsciously took the fork in the road that led back to the estate.

The next morning he was sitting beside a small lake, hungry and tired, and no more than two miles from the main house, though he had no notion of his whereabouts. He sat with his arms over his knees and his head bowed, drifting in and out of sleep, and not immediately registering the sound of a horse approaching over the early morning chatter of birds. When at last he focused on the clip-clop of hooves on the dry road, he looked up, expecting to see an anonymous traveler. Instead, his heart leapt at the vision. It was Lord Jinn!

The instinct to run was squelched by a pounding in his heart. Ben could no more run away from this beautiful man than he could speak to him, and so he rose to his feet to make himself more visible on the landscape. Almost at once the other man saw him, recognized him, and spurred his horse to reach him more swiftly. Ben's heart pounded even more intensely as he watched the handsome nobleman approach. Surely the man had been looking for him.

As he drew close, Ben indulged in admiring the man's beauty. As always Lord Jinn was dressed impeccably if not modestly, and today he wore a coat of deep woody brown, a beige silk vest, white trousers and brown riding boots. Now little more than ten yards away, Ben lowered his gaze fearing his own excitement was inappropriate and should be concealed.

"Ben," Lord Jinn said, breathlessly. He was so overcome by finding the young man that he was surprised he was able to speak. "I've been looking for you all morning." The tall man slid from his horse and went to stand in front of the servant. He looked at the submissive young man and his heart ached. "Are you all right?"

Blue-green eyes looked up through a veil of reddish-blond hair. They were bright in the early morning light, and if Quentin dared to believe it, he thought they looked happy to see him.

"I'm glad I found you," Quentin said, relief pouring over him.

Really? Ben thought with questioning eyes. Could it be?

The nobleman's lips curved into a smile. He could hear the question as plainly as he could see it on the young man's face. "Yes, I am truly glad," he said and started to reach his hand out to touch Ben's arm, but then withdrew it when the young man took a half-step back. "I was afraid I might not... see you again."

The palms of Ben's hands were damp with sweat. He wanted to touch, to be touched, but his fear was too great. He could not allow himself to believe that Lord Jinn held some real affection for him.

Quentin found the silence that shrouded the young man to be uncomfortable. He had never been in a one-sided conversation before. He was used to people responding to him and even going out of their way to make conversation with him.

"Mr. Delaney informed me only this morning that you were missing," he said, happy to fill the void with his own words. "He said you were uneasy yesterday when Mr. Xanatos was visiting."

Ben nodded meekly and turned his face away. It was true, but would he be punished for running away and for not attending to the gentleman's carriage?

"Don't worry," Quentin said quietly, finding that the young man's silence made him want to lower his voice. "I'm not upset with you for yesterday. I was only concerned. I want you to be happy and to feel safe at Fairfield. Do you think you could accompany me back to the estate?"

No one had ever offered Ben safety and happiness before, and he could not help but smile.

Lord Jinn smiled in return. "I believe that's 'yes.' Good. It's not far now. I don't know if you've been here all night, but you're only about two miles from the main house."

The youth was surprised to hear this. He must have gotten turned around.

"But first, I'll wager you're hungry," Quentin said, feeling his own hunger stab at him. "Mrs. Delaney packed a breakfast," he said and wandered over to his horse, taking the satchel from the saddle. Without a word he walked back to Ben and sat on the ground, spreading out the breakfast on a cloth. "Please join me," he said, looking up at the boy.

Ben's mouth watered as he saw the sausages, bread and cheese spread before him. There was that moment's hesitation again, but his hunger won over his uncertainty and he knelt down on the cloth several feet from Lord Jinn. With a shy glance to the gentleman, Ben reached for one of the sausages.

"That's right, go on," Quentin said, feeling the young man's anxiety and perhaps even his hunger. "Let's not worry about formality here. There are no aristocrats to criticize our eating habits," he encouraged. He sat back and watched as Ben dug into the food. Indeed, the youth was hungry, and it satisfied the nobleman greatly that he had found him and could at least do this for him.

When they had eaten their fill, Quentin wrapped the remaining bread and cheese while Ben retrieved his horse.

"You may ride with me...," Quentin began to say as Ben handed him the reins, but then he quickly realized it would be inappropriate for a servant to do such a thing. "I think perhaps a walk would do me good," he smiled. "I'll walk with you. It's only the two miles."

Ben was surprised and pleased and enjoyed their walk back to the estate immensely.

At Fairfield, Lord Jinn met with Mr. and Mrs. Delaney briefly. "He's had a rough night. I'd like him to rest today. Mrs. Delaney, please see to him."

"Of course, sir. I'll do what I can," she said and immediately went out to the stable to speak with the young man. She found him brushing down one of the horses. "No, no, the master forbids it. You're to rest today," she said, and when Ben looked at her wide-eyed and a bit stunned she smiled and laughed. "I know Fairfield is like nowhere you've been and that's all because of Lord Jinn. He's a decent man. You'll not find anyone more just in the land, except of course for His Majesty the King. God save him." The middle-aged woman took the brush from his hand. "Today, I'm inviting you into my home. We'll get you bathed and fed and rested."

Ben's accommodation in the stable was comfortable, but it had been built for occasional use. When a horse was ill or about to foal, Mr. Delaney would stay the night in the stables in the small room with the narrow bed. At the Delaney's small cottage, set apart from the servant's quarters, Ben was shown a pleasant room upstairs.

"This was our Thomas's. I've kept it just the same as the day he left for London. I received a letter from him this morning saying he's met a nice girl and that he's thinking of settling down. The mister and I couldn't be more pleased... we'll have little grandchildren running about here in no time."

As the woman spoke about her beloved son, one of the farmhands brought the water in for the bath. Ben swallowed uncomfortably as he watched the young man come and go. The only time he had taken baths was at his master's bidding. The association was quite strong, but Ben did not want to offend Mrs. Delaney by refusing her hospitality. He was relieved that once the tub was filled, both she and the farmhand left the room.

"Take your time. And when you're done, help yourself to any of Thomas's clothes. He's about your size and has no need of these country fashions now that he's a clerk. He's bought new things in London."

The bath water was cool, but the luxury of washing undisturbed and unharassed was worth a pot of gold to him. As Ben washed with oatmeal soap, he reflected on the goodness of Mrs. Delaney. He knew that in some way he was filling a void in her life now that her son was a clerk in a London import business, but he also knew that she was genuinely good at heart. And then there was Lord Jinn, the man who made everything possible here. The man had most certainly ridden for hours in search of his stray servant and Ben wondered how he could ever thank him. His time at Fairfield was limited, but Ben would look on it as a temporary haven from the storm of his life.

After bathing and drying off, Ben followed Mrs. Delaney's instructions and went to the dresser to select some clothes. He found all he needed, neatly folded and organized by like items and chose a pair of dark brown trousers, cotton stockings and drawers, a fresh white shirt and a tan striped vest. He put on the drawers, stockings and trousers and was about to lie down for a nap when the sound of laughter and barking dogs drew his interest. He stepped over to the window and peering out he could see in the distance, on the lawn, Lord Jinn's niece and her friend. The girls were playing fetch with two large wolfhounds.

He sighed, remembering Mrs. Delaney's words. Fairfield was like no place he had ever been... except... no, he would not think of the past now. He turned from the window, desperately needing sleep, and lay down on the bed, on top of the covers, resting his head on the soft pillows.

go on to part two of Unspoken Love