Disclaimer: The characters from The Sentinel don't belong to me, and I am not making any money from this story. NC-17, J/B, Permission to archive.

Author's Notes: I love the idea of J/B in different periods of history or different fantasy situations. This is the beginning of the story I've been researching for several weeks. It was inspired by my fascination with Sixteenth Century Elizabethan England and a very recent trip to England and France. I just got back last night! I've tried to be thorough in my research, but I'm sure there are some historical inaccuracies, some intentional because it suited the plot better. If you notice these inaccuracies, please try to overlook them and get what enjoyment you can from the story, Also I want to mention that I realize that Jim's past life regression should be from his POV only, but I felt it necessary to to occasionally show things from Blair's POV. And for those not interested in the history aspect; hang in there. There will be lots of sex too! Please only tell me if you like my story.

Author's Note: The sonnet that James gives Blair is Shakespeare's eighteenth. It's a little to early for Shakespeare here, but I wanted to use it.

Free To Love You

Jim Ellison allowed his date to lead him into her apartment. He and Bethany had spent the evening at a Jag's game and then had drinks at a local bar, things he usually greatly enjoyed. Bethany was a wonderful woman too, great looking with a wicked sense of humor, and Jim had been dating her for several weeks. So why was he sitting here in her apartment thinking abaout ways to end the relationship without hurting her feelings. Why had he spent the entire game thinking about how much Blair would have enjoyed it, and how much he would have enjoyed being there with Blair. Blair... now there was anothere can of worms. He had recently given up trying to convince himself that Blair wasn't the reason why he wanted to break things off with Bethany. In typical Jim Ellison stoic fashion he had determined to suffer his feelings for Blair in silence. Blair didn't know about Jim's previous relationships with men during his time in vice, and the continuing carousel of women that Blair dragged through the loft had convinced Jim that he didn't have even the remotest chance of Blair ever reciprocating his love. So it was better this way, to just pretend and play house with Bethany, pretend not to wince every time Blair introduced another date to him.

"And what are you looking so serious about?" Bethany smiled sweetly at him as she handed him another drink. Jim knew he should refuse it. He'd already reached his limit at the bar, but he felt the urge to drown the pain of unrequited love, to forget, if only for a short time, that he could never have the thing he wanted most in life, Blair's love. H accepted the drink and downed it in several quick gulps.

"Sorry, I guess I haven't been much fun tonight."

"It's okay, you just need to relax, and I know just the thing. Why don't you let me try to hypnotize you. You'll feel totally relaxed. We can see who you were in a past life."

Bethany was a liscenced hypnotherapist and had done this many times before. Jim didn't believe in reincarnation, but he tolerated this aspect of Bethany the same way he put up with Sandburg's crazy ideas and tests. Under normal circumstances he would have flatly refused. What if he mentioned something about the whole Sentinel thing? But the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream was clouding his judgement. It wouldn't work anyway, especially not on Jim Ellison, a man who was always in control, except when it came to Blair. A wave of misery and longing washed over him. What the hell. It would pass the time, and maybe he could relax, relax and forget.

He could tell Bethany was surprised when he consented. He knew she had expected him to laugh and say how he didn't believe in that stuff, but she quickly recovered and urged him to stretch out on the couch.

"You won't regret this, Jim. I promise. When you see how relaxed it makes you, you'll be glad you tried this. Now close your eyes, breathe deeply, just concentrate on the sound of my voice. Let yourself relax totally."

//She sounds like Blair,// Jim thought as he tried to relax the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders. //Only Blair does it better.// He conjured up images of his beautiful curly haired Guide in his mind and found them more relaxing than Bethany's voice. He was actually starting to zone on the pictures of Blair that flashed in front of his closed eyes. First he pictured Blair as he knew him, in situations they had actually been in. Then he shifted to his fantasy Blair, the one who existed only in his wildest dreams. He conjured up his favorite image, Blair lying beneath him, pinned to the mattress by Jim's body, impaled on Jim's cock. His face would be red and sweaty, breath coming in hard fast gulps. He would be moaning Jim's name as he came, saying those words that Jim would sell his soul to hear. "I love you, Jim! I love you, I love you, I love you!!!" Blair's cries of passion intermingled with the sound of Jim's horse as it made its way through the hot, dusty London road. WHAT! Blar's image began to fade and another totally unfamilliar scene took its place.

"Okay, Jim, I can tell you're seeing something there." Bethany's voice cut into his fog. "Look around you. Tell me what you see."

"Horses, there's lots of horses," Jim replied in a husky voice. "It's hot, too many people."

"What are you wearing?"

Jim looked down at himself. "Some sort of funny padded tunic." He squirmed on the couch, fingering an invisible collar. "God, it's uncomforable!"

"Who's with you, Jim? Why are you there?"

Jim looked toward the center of the procession he was riding in. His Sentinel sight allowed him to focus in on the majestic looking woman in the litter. Her bright red hair glittered in the hot London sunlight as she surveyed her surroundings with sharp piercing eyes.

"The Queen, I'm here to protect the Queen."

"Which Queen? Do you know who she is, Jim?"

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth Tudor." The details of this scenario were becoming clearer. And as Bethany's voice started to fade, he found himself engulfed n this strange, yet oddly familiar world.

He was Sir James Ellis, Duke of Norfolk and one of Queen Elizabeth's favorite courtiers. It was the mid sixteenth century in London, England, and he obviously still had his Sentinel abilties. The stench of the crowd surrounding him made him grimace and quickly turn down his sense of smell. He and several other courtiers were acompanying their Queen to greet Mary, the former Queen of Scots at Bolton Castle. Mary had recently fled from the Scotish rebels who had forced her to abdicate her throne to her infant son. She had come to England to throw herself on the mercy of her Tudor cousin. And now, the woman who was Queen of Scotland by birth, Dowager Queen of France by marriage, and Queen of England by right in the eyes of every good Catholic was a virtual prisoner in England, The Protestant Scotish rebels had been angered by her laws favoring the Catholics and had been causing trouble ever since her return from France when her husband, the Dauphin, had died. Several of her favorite French attendants and travelled with her, first to Scotland, and now into English captivity.

Elizabeth intended to extend a cordial greeting to her cousin. It was her intent to get Mary to ratify the Treaty of Edinburgh which would deny her right to te English throne. It was also important not to anger the English Catholics who might rise up in support of Mary. Elizabeth was a Protestant, as was Sir James and most of her other courtiers.

Lord Ellis breathed a sigh of relief as he dismounted from his steed a Bolton Catle and handed the reins to a stable boy. He felt ridiculous in the traditional court dress. He wore a dark green, brocade doublet with a high neck ruff. The doublet ended about midthigh, and the rest of his legs were covered in thick, white, woolen stockings that disappeared into sturdy boots. He wore his hair shorter than most noblemen but made up for it with a moustache and short pointed beard. He would much rather be home now at his beautiful country manor, Wellington Lodge, relaxing with his sister, the Lady Julia. He would wear a well-worn pair of breaches and a simple linen shirt and jerkin. Julia often told him that he could pass for a country peasant when he dressed like that, and that suited James fine. There were times when he wished he could just run away from the politics of court life and live as a simple rural farmer, but as the eldest and only Ellis son, it was his responsibility to continue the tradition of the Dukes of Norfolk, no matter how distasteful he found it. It was his job to ensure that his line would continue, and this was what troubled him the most. Since he was a youth he had found that his sexual appetites were different from other men. Women did not excite him at all. Instead he found his head turned by other men he came in contact with. Elizabeth overlook his occasional dalliences because he was a favorite of hers, and she knew that he must one day settle down with a politically arranged marriage.

Elizabeth stopped at his side on her way into the castle on the arm of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, and some whispered her lover. "Sir James," she smiled. "I want you to walk with me at the head of our party. I will be interested in your impressions of our Scotish Queen."

"Your Majesty honors me." He fell into place a few steps behind her as they entered Bolto Castle. They walked through the wrought iron gates and down the long corridor to where Mary and her attendants were waiting. James watched as Mary rose from where she had been seated and made a perfunctory curtsy. Her face was a proud mask, and Sir James realized that this was a women who would never give up what she believed was her God given right, the throne of England.

Lord Ellis found his eyes diverted to linger on the small man standing behind Mary, no doubt one of her French attendants. He was clean shaven and wore hs long, dark, curly hair pulled back with a dark blue velvet ribbon, a look different from most Frenchmen that Sir James had met. He wore two silver hoops in one of his ears and was dressed in a long royal blue coat with lace dripping from the sleeves. But it was his face that drew James' gaze. He had never seen anything like this beautiful Frenchman with his sparkling blue eyes, high cheek bones, and full, sensual lips. It was impossible for Sir James to turn away, and he found himself staring. The Frenchman noticed his gaze and looked back at him. Their eyes locked on each other for long moments before Elizabeth took his arm.

"Come, Sir James. It is time you met my dear cousin." She escorted him to Mary. "May I present to you Sir James Ellis, Duke of Norfolk." James bowed low and kissed the hand that she offered.

From behind him he heard the little Frenchman whisper to another of Mary's attendants in French. "Est ce qui?""

Mary released Sir James' hand and turned with a bemused smile. "In English, my Pet. We must show respect for our guests." She faced Elizabeth again. "My attendant wishes to know who this handome noble Lord is. Come here, Blair, and I will introduce you."

The Frenchman approached and bowed first to Elizabeth. "Your Majesty," he said in a soft, low voice with a lilting French accent. Elizabeth nodded in return, and Mary continued.

"And this man that you seem so curious about is Sir James Ellis, Duke of Norfolk. My Lord, this is my most favorite servant, Blair."

Blair bowed again, "It is an honor to meet you, My Lord." When he straightened, his eyes locked with Sir James' again, and the Duke had to fight the desire to reach out and run his fingers across the man's cheek. He had never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in his life.

Elizabeth smiled indulgently at her favoured courtier and drew Mary off to speak in private. "It seems Sir James is quite taken with your little pet and he with Sir James. I have long indulged the man in his peculiar fetish. It really is time he found a woman of noble birth to marry and raise children with, but I will give him a little more time as long as he remains discreet."

Mary shrewdly thought of how she could use this turn of events to her advantage. She was anxious to do anything that would help her desperate situation here where she was little better than a prisoner. "If it pleases Your Grace, perhaps I could arrange to lend my faithful servant to your Duke for a time to fulfil whatever 'needs' he might have."

Elizabeth nodded. "Perhaps." She too had an agenda here; one, to get Mary to sign the document giving up her claim to the English throne, but also she could use this little incentive to extract a favor in return from Sir James. She had a rather distasteful job she had been having difficulty in finding someone she could trust for. "We will be having a dance at Hampton Court to honor you in three days. You may bring as many attendants as you feel are necessary." It would be expedient to show her Catholic subjects that Mary was being well cared for.

"I am delighted to accept your most gracious invitation, and I shall only need 'one' attendant." Mary looked over to where Blair was still casting furtive glances in the Duke's direction.

Later that night, Mary broached the subject to her favorite attendant. "You seemed quite taken with the Duke, Pet." Blair blushed. "Do not be embarressed, Cherie. I have seen you look at many handsome men before, but never like that."

"I don't know," Blair stammered. "He... he's like no one I've ever seen before."

"He is very good looking," Mary teased. She was quite informal with those closest to her.

"It's more than that. I can't explain it. I felt as if I'd met him before, seen him in my dreams."

"How romantic, my Pet. It is possible that I can arrange for you to spend some time with your Duke as his manservant, but the position may require 'other duties'. I want to make sure that these 'other duties' you will need to perform will not be abhorrent to you. I know that you have been forced into these duties before against your will, and I will not add to your previous pain now. If you go, it must be of your own free will."

Blaiir's face saddened with the painful memories, but he was touched by his Mistress' concern for his hapiness. It was what kept him loyal even through all the turbulence of the Scotish rebellion. He also knew that by agreeing to this he would be helping Mary win favor in the Queen of England's eyes.

He didn't know if he would have been able to comply with her request if he were not so attracted to the mysterious Duke, but the point was moot. He would do this for his Queen and hope the Duke would treat him well or at least better than those others who had thought they could own him simply because he was a servant. He quickly banished those memories from his mind. They hurt to much to dwell on.

"No, Your Grace,," he said softly. "I would not find it unpleasant to fulfill whatever duties the Duke may require of me."

Mary ran a hand across his temple and through the long, rich curls. "I am glad that you feel that way. I will use whatever infuence I have with my cousin to see that Lord Ellis treats you well. You must buy me some time, Cherie, time to find a way to escape back to France before Elizabeth forces me to sign away my rights to her throne, and I will never do that! It is important that the Duke is pleased with how you fulfil your duties."

"Your Majesty is aware that I have been well trained in those duties."

"My poor Pet, I know you have suffered much in your time at the French Court. You have my eternal gratitude for your service to me."

"It will be an honor to serve you Madame," Blair replied with as much sincerity as he could muster. He was already feeling pangs of trepidation at the thought of his future with the handsome Duke along with a growing excitement that he couldn't deny. If Sir James would only show him a small amount of kindness, he knew that he would find great pleasure in discharging his 'duties'.

"James! Stop tugging at your collar. You'll just have to put up with being uncomfortable tonight." Lady Julia rapped her fan lightly on her brother's offending fingers. "You look very handsome tonight."

"I feel like a glorified peacock. I hate these court affairs, and I'm a terrible dancer."

"You're not that horrible. You just need some pratice." She led the grumbling man onto the dance floor, and they took their place among the extravagently dressed Lords and Ladies. James grasped her hand and put an arm around her waist as they moved to the waltz, two steps foward and then two back in a diamond shaped pattern. He looked to where Elizabeth and Mary were seated on the dias at the front of the Great Hall of Hampton Court. Behind and to Mary's right stood the beautiful Frenchman he had found himself thinking of constantly since they had last met three days ago. Sir James couldn't help staring and inadvertantly stepped down hard on one of his sister's feet.

"Ow! James! It is usually helpful to pay attention when one dances. Now what is it that you find so fascinating?" She turned to look at where he had been staring. "Oh, " she smiled. "I see." She knew where her brother's tastes ran and had never chastised him. She loved him too much for that. "Who is he?" she asked as they resumed dancing.

"His name is Blair. He's one of Mary's French attendants."

Lady Julia had never seen her brother so taken with anyone. She noticed the longing in James' eyes as he continued to gaze at the man. Desire was plainly written on his face.

Standing beside the two Queens on the dias, waiting to fulfil any wish of Mary's, Blair watched the handsome Duke dance with the beautiful lady. They broke apart, and Sir James smiled at her. Blair felt an intense pang of jealousy run through him. He wanted to be the one dancing with Sir James. He wondered what it would feel like to have those strong arms around him, to feel the man's touch on his trembling body. Would he be gentle, or would he take Blair roughly? The Great Hall was stifling with the heat, but Blair shivered in spite of it as he continued to watch the man who had begun to haunt him.

Sir James waited in Her Majesty's Privy Chamber later that night wondering why the Queen had called him for a private audience. A sound in the hallway that no normal man could have heard alerted him to her approaching presence. She entered the room on the arm of Sir William Cecil, Lord Burghley, her most trusted advisor. Lord Ellis knelt in front of her as was customary and she bade him rise with a touch on his shoulder. She seated herself in the ornate throne and Cecil took his place at her side. Sir James remained standing and waited for her to speak.

"You have served me well and faithfully, Norfolk, as your father did before you. I would like to bestow upon you a token of my favor. In return, I will ask something of you."

"I am yours to command, Your Grace."

"I have noticed that you lack sufficient help at your manor house. It is unfair of you to require your sister to oversee so much."

"We make do, Your Majesty." James was intently curious as to what his Queen was getting at.

"Even so, My Lord, you have need of a personal valet. You will forgive me if I remind you that your taste in clothing is not up to Court standards."

"Your Majesty speaks the truth. I am most comfortable at home in my garden dressed appropriately."

"Ahh, but, Sir James, the garden is not where a Duke such as yourself belongs. Your place is at Court. However, I might be persuaded to allow you a few weeks liberty in your beloved garden. I will even appoint you a manservant during this time. My dear Cousin Mary has agreed to lend you the use of one of her attendants, Blair I believe his name is. I'm sure you can find a use for him. Perhaps he could shine your armour, even your codpiece." She dropped him a sly wink.

Sir James' eyes widened in surprise. Not only was the Queen granting him leave to require from Court life briefly, but she was sending the little Frenchman to him with full knowlege of what would happen! "Your Majesty,..." he gasped.

"There will, however, be a price for this boon, Sir James. You must use this time for rest and...'recreation', and then return to London when I have mustered my army. You will then lead my army into Scotland where you will destroy the Scotish Catholic rebels who are championing Mary's cause. My crown can never be safe until they are utterly defeated.

So that was it. In return for a few weeks in the peace and quiet of Wellington Lodge with the little Frenchman, he would be required to lead the English troops into the wilds of Scotland, a task that would fill even the bravest of men's hearts with dread. Those Englishmen who had fought in Scotland faced disease and disertion and had found themselves outwitted by the backward Scots they had been sent to defeat. Wellington Lodge was definately not worth the possibility of returning from Scotland a broken man, but was Blair? It had only been three days since he had met the Frenchman, and yet his heart ached beynd logical reason to hold Blair, to run his fingers through those flowing curls, to kiss those beautiful lips until his lungs screamed for air. But his desire for the man went beyond his groin. His soul yearned for him as if here, in a young foreign Catholic was the answer to every question he'd ever asked in his life. It was ridiculous to feel that way when they hadn't even had a conversation, at least with words. Their eyes had already spoken volumes.

"I am honored that Your Grace would choose me for such a prestigious post. I will serve you to the best of my abilities."

Elizabeth laughed. "The other men I offered the position to did not feel so honored, but then I did not offer them such an incentive as I did you. You may retire to your manor at your leisure, and I will have your new manservent sent to you posthaste."

Blair was surprised when he was greeted at Welington Lodge by the Lady he had seen Sir James dancing with at the ball. Was this his wife?

"Welcome to Wellington Lodge, Blair. My brother is away until nightfull, but he will be most anxious to greet you when he returns. You come very highly reccomended. I am Lady Julia, and I hope your stay with us will be a pleasant one."

His sister, she was his sister. Blair breathed a sigh of relief which Lady Julia noticed and tried not to smile. She led Blair to a small table in the kitchen and ordered the cook to bring him a plate of food for his dinner. The food was delicious, and Blair devored the roast leg of mutton stuffed with garlic, the pickled cabbage and the almond biscuits that he was served. Lady Julia sat across from him and asked him about his life in France. Blair answered being careful not to mention the darker side of his life at Court. Scotland had been a primitive and terrifying country, but he had relished it compared with what the previous French King, the Dauphin's father, had required of him in France. No wonder his wife, Catherine de Medici had been so anxious to send Blair with her hated daughter-in-law Mary to Scotland, thereby disposing of two birds with one stone. But the man was dead, the King was dead, and could never hurt him again. But the nightmares had persisted even so, and many was the time that Mary had awakened him from one soothing him softly back to sleep. "There, there, Pet. It's all right. He can't hurt you. You're safe."

He didn't know what kind of treatment to expect here at Wellington Lodge. As a servant, he would be considered little better than the peasant he was born, but as the favorite servant of a Queen, perhaps that would afford him better treatment.

When he had finished eating, Lady Julia led him to a modest bed chamber. It was small but cozy, and a roaring fire gave the room some cheer. After Lady Julia left he wanted nothing more than to put on the dressing gown that had been laid out for him and fall asleep in the inviting bed. But when Sir James returned that night he would no doubt require his services.

He waited as patiently a he could, and finally, when he could hold his eyes open no longer, he removed his clothes and slipped into bed naked to better expidite matters when the Duke returned. He was sure he'd be awakened that night by Sir James climbing into bed with him just like...no, he would not think of that now. Sir James looked to be a kind man, and Mary would look out for him. He closed his eyes at last still listening for any approaching footsteps, but his sleep that night was restful and unbroken.

Blair awoke alone the next morning in the small room. It took him several moments to remember where he was and what he was doing there. He was surprised the Duke had not visited him the previous night, surprised and a little disappointed. he slid out of bed naked and shivering and hurriedly dressed in some of the clothes he had brought with him. No one was stirring this early in the manor, so Blair slipped outside to explore the grounds.

The gardens were beautiful and obviously well cared for with many different kinds of fllowers, fruits and vegetables. A small fountain babbled invitingly. He looked up into one of the stately beech trees where two magpies were having a loud argument. Blair felt at peace here, as if a magic spell had been cast over the garden which would allow no unhappiness. The sounds of horses neighing drew him to the stables. He had always loved animals, especially horses. They would love you unconditionally and were loyal as long as they were treated well. He approached the largest and most majestic looking stallion probably Sir James' personal mount. So he had returned the previous night. The horse was stampng its hooves in agitation.

"Bonjour, beautiful one. What is it you desire? Do you wish to be brushed?" Blair took the brush from a nearby shelf and began to curry the horses dark, black mane. Suddenly he felt a presence behind him, pressing against him, pinning him to the horse.

"Charger prefers to be brushed like this." Sir Jamea' large hand clasped over his and began to draw Blair's hand down the horse's mane in long, smooth strokes. Blair's breathing picked up as he became aroused by the feel of the strong body that held him captive. He could feel the man's erection pressing demandingly against his back. He expected Sir James to throw him to the stable floor and take him there among the horses, and he realized he wanted the Duke to do just that. But Sir James just stood there drawing Blair's hand gently across the horse.

"When I first bought Charger, he was wild, so I had to tame him. I could have broken him right away, but then he would never truly be loyal to me. He would just be there to serve my needs. I wanted that wild spirit to remain intact." He placed an arm around Blair's hip. "So the first time I rode him I was very gentle to let him become acquainted with my body astride his, and in time, he wanted me to release my strength and ride him hard."

Blair was trembling now, wanting nothing more than to feel those arms close around him, but to his surprise, the Duke suddenly withdrew and was gone before Blair could turn around. //Mon Dieu!// he thought. //He could have had me right here in the hay, and I would have thanked him for it.//

Later at breakfast the Duke acted as if nothing had happened. He insisted Blair eat at the table with them in very uncustomary manner. He was dressed very differently than the last time that Blair had seen him, wearing a tight pair of breeches, linen shirt, a soft leather jerkin vest. Blair decided it suited him better. Over breakfast Sir James told of his previous day's ride throuh the country.

"I don't know how anyone could prefer the hot crowds of London to the natural beauty found here."

"Now, James," smiled Lady Julia. "London has its charms."

"It can never compare to Norfolk. And what of France, Blair? What is the countryside like?"

"The village I grew up in was very beautiful. I was very happy there."

"Then why did you leave it?" Sir James asked.

A shadow crossed Blair's face. "The King of France passed through our village while traveling through the country and saw me working in my father's fields when I was a boy. He asked my parent's permission to take me to Court to serve his son and later Mary." He didn't mention exactly what type of welcome he had received back at the French Court.

"You must have found Court life very exciting." Lady Julia encouraged.

Blair chose his words carefully. "I had many new experiences there, but I missed Rouen."

Sir James was watching him as if he somehow understood what Blair had left unsaid. When he finished eating, he rose from the table. "I need to check the fences on the south side of the property. I'll be back late this afternoon. Please make yourself at home, Blair. If you want anything, it shall be provided for you." He kissed his sister's cheek and left, leaving Blair to ponder the one thing he wanted very much right now.

Blair spent the day exploring the manor and grounds. Technically, he was there as a servant, but no one seemed to require anything of him. He was reading a book in the library when a servant found him. "Sir James has returned and requires your assistance at his bath." She led him to an empty room with a large cast iron tub and then left. He waited heart pounding wondering if this was where it would hapen finally.

Sir James arrived looking hot and dusty from his day on the road. "I hope you had a pleasant day, Blair," he smiled as he removed his jerkin and shirt. "Were your needs attended to?"

"Yes M'Lord," Blair answered. //All save one.// He stared at the massive chest that was revealed barely noticing when Sir James handed him his shirt. He recovered enough to take it and fold it neatly before setting it aside. When he turned back around the Duke was sliding his breeches down his long powerful thighs revealing his magnificent manhood that was even now beginning to harden.

Sir James handed him the breeches and stepped into the tub full of warm water relaxing back against the rim closing his eyes. Blair knew what was expected of him and gathered the coarse soap and a rough cloth. He splashed some water to work up a lather and with trembling fingers began to wipe the dirt and grime from Sir James' neck revealing clean, pink flesh. Gaining courage, he drew the cloth down the broad chest intentionally brushing the Duke's nipples which hardened instantly at the touch. He wanted to suck those nipples into his mouth and hear Sir James moan against him, but he continued on. Next he took one of Sir James' feet and gently caressed the sole with the cloth cleaning him thoroughly. He knew what he wanted to touch next, but didn't quite have the nerve. He stroked the man's calf and thigh and stopped before his prize. The Duke's eyes opened and looked at him, encouraging him to continue. Blair bit his bottom lip as he lifted the large shaft in his hand and studied it. //Could I take all of him in my mouth? God grant me the chance to try!// He drew the cloth over the man's penis eliciting a quiet intake of air from Sir James, and this pleased Blair. He continued to clean the organ much longer than necessary, finally releasing the hardening shaft with reluctance.

Sir James sat up to allow him to wash his back, and Blair ran both hands down it and across the broad shoulders soothing the tired muscles that were relaxing under his touch. When he finished cleaning Sir James, the Duke stood, and Blair was awestruck by the sight of the man standing there naked, water dripping from his glistening body. He handed Sir James his robe as he stepped from the tub and watched regretfully as that beautiful body was covered. Blair could no longer stand the tension, the aching need he felt. He mustered his courage and moved to stand in front of Sir James, his own damp clothing pressed to his body, revealing his desire.

"Will M'Lord require my assistancein his bedchamber?" he asked letting his eyes show exactly what he was offering.

Sir James' eyes lit up. "Only if that is what you desire, Blair."

"It is, M'Lord."

Sir James smiled and motioned for Blair to accompany him. Blair did so eagerly.

Blair stood waiting in the Duke's bedchamber trembling, experience telling him to expect to be tossed onto his stomach on the bed and taken roughly as if he were nothing more than a possession to be taken at his master's whim. Sir James approached him with concern on his face. He gently reached out a hand to caress Blair's cheek.

"You're trembling. I hope it's not out of fear."

"No, M'lord, I tremble with need for you."

Sir James continud to watch him with eyes that seemed to stare into Blair's soul, gaining knowledge of all his innermost secrets. "Someone has hurt you. I will not add to your pain. I could never force you to do what you do anything you did not want to do. If you enter my bed it must be of your own free will."

Blair stared at him, confused. No one had ever asked for his consent before No one had ever shown him such compassion. "I want you," he said simply.

James moved to him quickly, finally taking him in his arms. "Oh, Blair," he whispered into the soft curls, "I've wanted you since the first time I saw you." He stood there, doing nothing but embracing Blair, letting the man slowly become accustomed to him. Blair had never been held by a lover, if you could call his previous sexual partners lovers, and he certainly didn't. It felt wonderful. He relaxed against the strong man who held him, content for the moment to be pressed against a warm body.

Sir James' hands began to stroke through his hair tenderly. "So soft, so beautiful," he murmured. Blair stiffened and almost pulled away. James stopped immediately. "What, Blair, what is it?"

Blair couldn't answer. He simply stood there, eyes cast downward.

"Is it because I called you beautiful?" Hasn't anyone ever called you beautiful before?"

"Yes," Blair choked out.

James took his chin in his hand, forcing Blair to look at him. "The one who hurt you, he called you beautiful, didn't he?"

//Damn, how did the man know these things about him!// He tried to look away, but James wouldn't let him. "Sometimes I wish I was born ugly or lame so that no one would want me."

"But you weren't," Sir James' face was very close now. "You're incredibly beautiful, and that's not a bad thing, Blair. Let me show you. Let me show you how good it can be between two people who truly care about each other. Let me wipe away the pain in your heart and fill it with joy." He bent down and brushed his lips against Blair's.

Blair felt the man's soft beard tickle his chin. He'd been kissed before, bruising, biting kisses of possesson, but never so sweetly, so gently. When James started to remove his lips from Blair's mouth, Blair reached up to press back against him wanting more of the warm mouth. James obliged, but pulled back again when Blair's mouth opened imediately under his, inviting possession.

"No, Blair, I will not use you. Tonight, I want to pleasure you." He began kissing tenderly down Blair's neck, letting his hands roam over the smaller man's body.

Blair couldn't believe this was happening to him. Someone actually cared about his feelings, his needs. Who was this man who had stolen his heart so quickly?

James began to remove the damp clothes from Blair's body, letting his shirt fall onto the floor. He cntinued his kissing down Blair's chest nuzzling his beard against Blair's nipples. Blair arched into him. "M'lord!" he gasped.

"James," the Duke corrected. "When we are here in my manor, I am just James." He stepped back and untied his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Do you want me, Blair? Do you want me to make love to you?"

Blair nodded, unable to speak at the sight of that magnificent body again.

"But you've never been made love to before, have you Blair? You've had sex, but never made love. I will be your first real lover." He unfastened Blair's trousers and drew them down his legs so that they were both naked.

Blair looked up at the man who had shown him the first real kindness of his life. "Love me," he whispered fiercely. "Love me, James."

The Duke took Blair's face in his hands and studied it, imprinting the features in his memory. He stroked hs fingers across the smooth cheeks and over trembling lips while Blair looked up at him, still having difficulty believing that Sir James cared so much about hs feelings. "You're like a rare and exotic flower, my Blar. I've seen anything so exquisite." He brought his lips to Blair's throat and bestowed light kisses down to where it met his shoulder. James began to lick and suck at the area eliciting a low moan from his partner. The Duke looked up and smiled to see the effect of his ministrations. Blair's breath was coming in harsh gasps, his hands clenched into tight fists. James lifted Blair into his arms easily, relishing the feel of the soft curls brushing against his chest. He placed the smaller man on his bed and moved to lie next to him. Blair lay back against the soft pillow, feeling utterly relaxed. When the Duke's fingers began to caress his stomach in long sweeping strokes he gasped and arched up.

They lay there for some time with James just touching Blair with his fingertips. When the hand was finally removed, Blair's earlier training kicked in. He flipped onto his stomach, reaching for the pillow to bite on to muffle any screams.

James' brow furrowed, and he took his lover by the shoulders and rolled him so that he was on his back again. "No, Blair, no. I'm not going to do that to you. Later, if you want, I'll show you it 'can' be pleasurable that way, but not tonight. Tonight I want you to learn what it's like to have a man's hands on your body and feel pleasure instead of revulsion." //God!// thought Sir James angrily. //What kind of man could hurt such a beautiful creature? If I ever find him I'll rip him apart with my bare hands!//

Blair focused on just one of Sir James' words. "Later" Not only was the Duke giving him one night of unbelievable passion, but he was planning on giving him more. It was too much to believe. "Why..." he started then began again. "How can you care about me?"

"How could I not?" The Duke bent his head to kiss the sweet wine of Blair's mouth this time accepting the invitation to enter into the moist recess. He knew that this time it was what Blair wanted rather than what he felt as his duty. They kissed hungrily and noisily, Blair sucking on his upper lip, making James groan with the release of all his pent up passion. He had wanted the little Frenchman for so long! The sound encouraged Blair, and he boldly thrust his tongue into the Duke's mouth exploring and meeting James' own tongue.

The temperature in the room seemed to rise by ten degrees. When they broke apart Blair reached for his lover to pull James on top of him. "I want to feel you on me."

Sir James looked concerned. "I don't want to make you feel trapped."

"You don't. You couldn't. Please." Blair looked at him entreatingly, and James could not refuse those eyes. He stretched out on top of Blair, being careful not to put to much of his weight on him.

Blair sighed. "I've never..." James looked at him encouragingly. "'I've never felt anything like this, like the way you make me feel."

"You'll have to get used to it, because I intend to make you feel that way often."

"Yes, please, whatever you want."

"No, Blair, whatever 'you' want." He rocked gently against the smaller man so that their erections bumped. Both men groaned at the new sensation

"More, please, more!" Blair couldn't help begging for the wonderful feelings James was eliciting in him.

"As you wish." James ground their cocks together harder this time and continued to thrust against Blair until he felt the fire in his groin threaten to consume him. He pulled back, anxious to please his lover first. He slid his body down so that his face was level with Blair's groin and licked at his inner thighs until they glistened with his saliva and Blair was thrashing about on the bed insensible with need. He kissed the tip of the rosy red cock that rose to greet him, and it jerked at his touch. It was obvious that Blair wanted this, but James needed to ask. "Blair, can I...Do you want me to take you in my mouth?"

"God, yes!! YES!! Do it, please!!"

The Duke began to lick up the organ's firm sides first acquainting himself with the delicious taste. This was probably the first time Blair had been on the receiving end of this act, and James intended for it to be a moment to remember. At last he took the tip between his lips causing Blair to buck off the bed and thrust into his mouth. James took the entire member into his mouth, sucking gently at first, relishing the mewling noises coming from the man beneath him. As his sucking increased, so did Blair's cries, coming closer together and louder until the room was filled with the sound of their passion.

James heard his lover's heartbeat peak, felt his impending climax moments before he tasted the bitter-sweet liquid which he swallowed greedily. He looked up at the man who occupied his bed and, he admitted, his heart. Blair lay there like a wet rag, utterly spent, and utterly breath taking with his hair flowing out behind his head, his face red and polished with sweat. James pulled him into his arms and kissed the top of his head until Blair began to come to his senses and looked up at him in wonder.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm...I'm...That was wonderful!"

James chuckled at his lover's inability to articulate himself.

"But you didn't..."

"It's all right. I just wanted to give you pleasure, Blair."

Blair sat up and reached for the Duke's hard shaft. "It would give me pleasure to please you. Please, I want to."

James moaned and lay back, shuddering as Blair's practiced hand began to stroke him. Blair had done this many times before, and knew exactly how to bring his partner the greatest pleasure. Only the best for a king, after all. But this time, it was different. This time, he wanted to do this, and Sir James' cries were music to his ears. He dropped his head to finally do what he had wanted so badly to do hours earlier while bathing the Duke. He took one of the dark pink nipples into his mouth and bit down lightly while his thumb massaged the other into full hardness. James screamed his name and came, flooding Blair's hand with his life force. When he had recovered, he looked up at Blair and held out his arms in invitation. The smaller man snuggled against him, and after a little while, the Duke's even breathing told Blair, James was asleep. He stayed awake for awhile longer though just watching his guardian angel, his blessed protector sleep. Finally, sleep claimed him as well.

It was dark in the bed chamber, and Blair slept alone. He heard the footsteps creaking down the long hallway, and the sound filled him with dread. The door to his room opened noiselessly, and a dark figure entered. The man walked swiftly to his bed and ripped the covers off his naked body in one quick movement. He leered down at what he saw. 'Hello, Beautiful," he smiled cruelly. "I've been looking forward to this all day." He hurriedly disrobed and climbed on top of Blair. "I've told a few of my closest advisors about your special talents, Beautiful, and they are anxious to see if you live up to all that I've said."

"NO!!" Blair screamed, sitting up in bed. "No!! Leave me alone!!"

Beside him, James bolted upright, awakened by Blair's frantic cries. "Blair, what's wrong? What is it?" He took the small, trembling body into his arms, and Blair clung to him tightly. "Shh, shh, it's all right. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you. Shh, now, it was only a dream. You're safe with me." He kissed Blair's temple and drew soothing patterns on his back until his bedmate's trembling lessened somewhat. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Blair shook his head violently. He couldn't, not even to the kind and gentle man who held him. If the Duke knew even a fraction of the things he'd done to survive in the French Court, he'd turn away in disgust. Who wouldn't?

"It's all right, Blair. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I want you to know, I could never do anything to bring one moment of sadness or pain to your beautiful eyes. I promise you, you will always be safe with me." He continued to rock his precious cargo until Blair fell asleep in his arms still clutching James tightly to ward off his inner demons.

Blair was awakened by Sir James stirring around the bed chamber. Feeling strangely shy he sat up, clutching the bed clothes to his bare chest. //Fool!// he thought. /It's not as if he hasn't seen you naked already.//

James noticed that Blair was awake. "I'm going to ride through Norfolk again today. I need to check and see how the local farmers are doing."

The Duke was leaving him. Well, of course, what would bind him to some French servant? Perhaps Blair had made to much of last night. He had wanted to believe in the Duke's kindness so much he had made more of it than the man intended. //Stupid, stupid, haven't you learned by now what men want from you? And when they get it, they leave.//

James finished dressing in a fresh linen shirt and his tight breeches and walked to sit beside Blair on the bed. "Would you like to come with me?"

"What?" Blair asked softly.

"I would enjoy having you with me today." He put his strong hands on Blair's shoulders and pulled him close enough so that he could press his lips to Blair's in a sweet morning kiss. When he pulled back he smoothed an errant lock of hair from Blair's face and asked again. "Would you like to join me?"

"Very much, M'lord." Perhaps he had not been mistaken last night after all.

"James," the Duke reminded.

"James." Blair tried the name out liking the way it felt to say it.

The Duke stood up again. "I took the liberty of finding some riding clothes for you. They'll be a bit big, but they'll be more comfortable than normal Court dress." He brought Blair his own pair of breeches, a linen shirt, and a dark brown jerkin. "When you're ready, please join me at breakfast. He left leaving Blair to dress in unaccustomed privacy.

At breakfast, James told his sister that he would be travelling the countryside again that day. "I'll be taking Blair with me."

"Oh," Julia replied with a knowing smile. She turned to Blair. "I'm sure you'll enjoy seeing Norfolk, Blair. It's very beautiful here."

"I'm sure I will, M'lady."

"You may as well call me Julia, Blair. I can tell you're going to be an intregal part of our lives until James has to..."

"We'd best be leaving now." James rose and frowned at his sister. "Are you ready, Blair?"

Blair wondered what Lady Julia had been about to say, but he bid her farewell and followed the Duke out to the stables.

"How well do you ride?" James asked before choosing a mount for Blair.

"I am well skilled in horsemanship," Blair replied proudly.

"Then I will have the groomsman saddle Fire for you. He's a little spirited, but I'm sure you can handle him. You proved your skill in that regard last night." Blair blushed, but Sir James pretended not to notice as he saddled Charger himself.

When the groomsman brought Fire to him, Blair smiled in delight. The reddish brown colored stallion would be the most magnificent creature he had ever ridden. Well, he 'had' set his sights on riding another much more magnificent creature. He took a quick look in the Duke's direction before putting his foot into the stirrup and easily swinging his body onto the horses back. Sir James mounted Charger, and they departed Wellington Lodge in a fast trot.

When they passed some open land filled with healthy growing corn, Sir James began to speak to him. "In my father's day, this land was closed off with hedges called enclosures so the landowners could raise sheep, much more profitable than growing crops. The peasants were no longer able to grow enough food and began to starve. I still remember seeing them beg for just a crust of bread when I was a boy. I would argue with my father about this injustice, but he would just laugh and tell me I would understand the ways of noblemen more when I took my place as the Duke of Norfolk. Well, that has happened now, and I still don't understand such cruelty, such greed."

"What happened to the enclosures?" Blair asked.

"The peasants of the Eastern counties tore down the hedges and demanded that the land be plowed for corn. Their leader Robert Ket and about fifty others were hanged for this crime. My father took me and made me watch to show me what happens to those who go against the authority of the Crown." The Duke repressed a shudder at the memory, and Blair felt a pang of sympathy for the sensitive boy who had been forced to watch such a gruesome spectacle.

When they arrived at the first small village, several children ran out to greet them. "Sir James, Sir James!" they cried in delight.

James dismounted and allowed the children to crowd around him bestowing many little hugs and kisses on him. Others in the village noticed his arrival and greeted him as well. "It is good to have you back, M'lord." "God bless you, Sir James." The man was obviously loved here on his own lands.

One little girl tugged on his sleeve to get him to bend down to her level. "I've been practicing with the hornbook you gave me, Sir James. I know my letters and a few words too. I can even write my own name!" she grinned proudly.

"That's wonderful, Catherine!" He swung the small child up into his arms. "You must show me. Catherine, this is Blair."

She peered at him over the Duke's shoulder. "Hello, Blair. Are you a friend of Sir James' too?"

Blair didn't know how to answer that, didn't really know exactly what he was to James yet.

"Yes," the Duke replied meeting Blair's eyes. "A very special friend."

They walked to the small shack that served as a house for Catherine's large family. Her mother greeted Sir James warmly. "Will you honor us by eating with us, M'lord?" she asked.

"You know I can't pass up your delicious vegetable soup," the Duke teased causing the woman to smile prettily.

"Then I shall set two more places."

Blair was surprised. It was extremely unusual for a landowner to break bread with one of his peasant farmers, but then James was a far cry from the typical pompous, greedy nobleman.

Catherine returned with the hornbook Sir James had given her and proceded to recite her letters for him and read the few words printed there. "In Adam's fall, we sinned all. See, I can read, Sir James!"

"Yes, you are a very smart girl, and I believe I just may have a reward for you here." He reached into his pocket and gave her a piece of marzipan candy, a rare treat for such a poor child. She crowed in delight.

"Thank you!" She put the candy in her mouth and sucked it greedily. "Next time, I'll be able to read even better." She kissed his cheek with sticky lips and ran off to join her brothers and sisters at their loud games.

Blair watched the family before him and was suddenly reminded of the last time he had seen his own parents so many years ago. He had walked in to find them arguing.

"It's a good opportunity for the boy, Yvonne. The King himself wants to bring him to Court."

"But you saw the way he was looking at Blair! You know what he wants! How can you give our child to a man like that?"

"One does not say no to the King of France, Woman! Blair will find a way to survive. He's got a strong spirit, and the money the King is offering will help make up for the bad season."

"How can you sell our son's honor like that? I won't let you!"

"You forget your place, Yvonne. It is done." With that his father left his sobbibg mother and ordered Blair to pack his few belongings. Blair had not understood what his parents were talking about at the time, but he had soon learned, oh how he had learned.

A particularly loud burst of laughter jolted Blair from his bitter memory. James had joined in the children's games and was lumbering after the excited children like a bear, growling deep in his throat. He reached to grab a small boy who didn't bother to run away like the others.

"Better run, Tommy! Monster's gonna get ya!" Catherine yelled to her brother. The chubby toddler just smiled up at Sir James obviously aware that this man was no monster. He held out his arms to the Duke, and James swept him up tickling his tummy until he screamed with delight.

"Candy!" he demanded blatantly.

"Tommy," his mother reprimanded. "It isn't nice to beg for things."

The boy turned his long lashed eyes to the Duke and said sweetly, "Pleeeease!"

James threw back his head and laughed heartily. "And just how am I supposed to resist that?" He reached into his pocket and handed the boy a sweet. Tommy squirmed to the ground and toddled over to Blair.

"Look what Sir James gave me." He held up his prize.

"I see." Blair smiled at the adorable face.

"Did Sir James give you something sweet?" Tommy asked innocently.

"Yes," grinned Blair. "Yes, he did, Tommy."

James looked at him when he said that, and Blair smiled at him, eliciting a similar response from the Duke.

"Dinner is ready," Catherine's mother announced. They gathered around a long wooden table. "M'lord," she asked. "Would you honor us by saying grace?"

Blair was unfamiliar with most Protestant religious customs, but he bowed his head with the others as James asked a blessing on the food.

The meal was very simple and very different from the one's served at Wellington Lodge. It was served in plain wooden dishes, and yet the vegetable soup and the chunks of rye bread served with it tasted as delicious as any of the delicacies Blair had eaten in his time there. James obviously felt the same way for he had three helpings of the soup, praising its virtues the entire time.

"I brought you more medicine for Tommy's illness and some warm blankets. The night air is turning quite cold."

"Thank you, M'lord. I don't know where Tommy would be now if you hadn't brought us the medicine. You've been so kind to us, to everyone here in the village. We're so greateful."

Sir James brushed off her offer of thanks modestly. "The important thing now is that Tommy is well and your family has plenty to eat."

After the meal James kissed each child goodbye, making sure each one had received some candy, and then he and Blair mounted their horses again and began their ride back to the manor house.

"Catherine and Tommy's father died of the fever last winter. Tommy contracted it as well and came very close to dying. Without a man to work the fields they would have starved. I was able to finish their plowing for them. Before we go home to Wellington Lodge I want to show you something, a special place of mine."

He guided Charger through the woods until they came to a beautiful sunlit meadow. The grass here was lush and soft and wild. Wild flowers grew with abandon. Sir James dismounted and motioned for Blair to do the same. They tethered the horses to trees next to a nearby stream so they could drink, and then walked into the meadow. James glanced around, and then sighed deeply, breathing in the fresh clean air. "I think this is my favorite place in the world." He sank down into the tall grass and reached for Blair's hand to pull the small man down with him. He positioned Blair so that his head nestled comfortably in the Duke's lap. Blair had never been held like this before, and he closed his eyes, feeling safe here in this magic place with James.

"I used to come here when I was a boy, and when I was sad it brought me some comfort. My mother died when I was just a child, and it was here that I could feel her presence most afterward. I always hoped that someday, I'd find someone special enough to share this place with, but I never did...until now."

Blair sat up and looked into James' eyes. "But you don't even know me."

"Oh, but I do know you. I've always known you. I knew you when I was a little boy lying in this meadow. I just didn't have a face yet to put with the soul I knew. Don't you feel it, Blair? Don't you feel this connection between us, drawing us together?"

"Yes," Blair drew closer. "Yes, I feel it. I've never felt anything so strong. It's so powerful it scares me."

"Don't be afraid, Blair. Don't ever be afraid of us." He drew Blair to him, pressing the man tightly against his chest. Blair reached up to kiss him, but James stopped him. "Wait, I want you to know, you have the right to say no to me. You don't have to give in to my advances."

"I don't want to say no to you," Blair whispered and this time succeeded in pressing his lips to James'. The Duke groaned against him, and Blair could feel his arousal through his breeches. He allowed James to press him back into the soft grass, making sure Blair was completely comfortable before he lay his body gently on top and began to kiss those full sensual lips.

"I have never seen anyone so exquisite as you, ma petit cherie." He smiled speaking Blair's own language to him. James began to unfasten Blair's shirt, and when he had it undone, he ran his fingers along the smaller man's chest tracing each rib delicately.

"I can hear your heart beating. It's telling me that you want this; you want me as much as I want you."

"Yes, please, James, please, I want you."

Blair brought his hands to the Duke's groin and began to massage the area with his skilled hands. James clenched his jaw tightly, but then stilled the roving fingers. "Slowly, Little One, slowly, we have all the time we need." He brought Blair's hands to his lips and kissed the back of them, then favored each fingertip with a small kiss. He took his tongue and licked from the tip of Blair's index finger to the base of his palm, causing his partner to squirm at the sensation of the Duke's warm, rough tongue. James kissed the pulsepoints on each wrist, and then decided that he would need to remove Blair's shirt to continue. He placed a gentle hand under Blair's head and raised him enough to get the shirt off. He then returned his attention to Blair's arms, kissing up one of his forearms until he came to the inside of his elbow. He sucked on the sensitive flesh there, causing Blair to moan. No one had ever paid such attention to his body before. No one had ever touched him like this and made him feel so special. Blair laid his heart at the Duke's feet.

"I want..." he breathed. "I want you inside of me."

"No, Blair," James stroked his hair tenderly. "We don't have to do that."

"But I want you to," Blair begged.

"We don't have anything to use for..."

"It's all right. I've done it before without anything."

"I know," James placed a warm hand on his cheek. "I now you have, and that's why I won't do it. I won't hurt you, Blair. When I take you, I want it to be special. I don't want there to be any pain for you, only pleasure, only joy. For now, just let me love you the way you were meant to be loved, gently and sweetly by someone who cares deeply for you." When Blair nodded, James began to divest him of the rest of his clothing, slowly, one piece at a time, until Blair lay there, gloriously nude and ready for him nestled in the grass. James was losing his patience and control at the sight and was not so careful when removing his own clothes. When Blair reached for him, he quickly settled back on top of his lover and began kissing him hungrily, exploring Blair's mouth with his tongue until every part of it was known to him. He could feel the strong heart beating beneath him in a rhythm that seemed so familiar.

James rolled over onto his side bringing Blair with him, still wrapped in his arms, still kissing him passionately. Blair's hands ran down James' heavily muscled arms feeling the restrained power there. He brought his hands to play across the broad back letting his nails scratch light patterns into the tanned skin. When he felt James' erection press against his, Blair cried out and thrust against the hot, burning spear. James met his thrusts, groaning into Blair's neck. The feeling was too much, too intense for both of them.

"Blair, Blair!" James held him tightly as he came, his body spasming uncontrollably. Their eyes met, and Blair saw an incredible look in his lover's eyes, but one he was afraid to name. James' eyes urged him on to completion, and soon his semen joined the larger man's on their stomachs. It was a long time before either man could or wanted to move from the embrace they shared. When they finally made their way back to the horses, Fire was gone, having broken free of his tethering.

"It's all right. He knows the way home, but I'm afraid this means you'll have to ride home with me on Charger."

"That isn't a problem," Blair replied, relishing the idea of remaining close to his Duke.

James smiled and mounted Charger. He held out a strong hand to Blair and pulled him up to sit in front of him in the saddle. Blair snuggled back onto James' chest as the Duke reached around him for the reins. He urged the stallion into a slow walk. James had no desire to reach home quickly, not with the perfume of those curls so close.

Once they were home James went to see if Fire had returned yet and promised Blair he would see him at supper. Lady Julia found her brother praising the errant horse and rewarding him with a sugar cube.

"Was your ride pleasant, James?" she asked.

"Most pleasant," her brother smiled.

"Why haven't you told him about Scotland?"

"For God's sake, Julia, he's only been with us two days! Give me some time!"

"You've had time enough to fall in love with him and he with you. I've seen the way you look at each other. You can't pretend, James. You can't pretend that you can stay here forever with him. How is he going to feel when he finds out you have to leave him?"

"I don't know how to tell him. Please, Julia, just give me a little more time."

She couldn't stand to see the sorrow on her brother's face and drew him to her. "It isn't fair!" he whispered fiercely. "All I want is to live here in peace, and now I've found someone to share this life with. Why can't we just live here and be happy together?"

Julia ran her hands across her younger brother's back. "It's the duty of a nobleman to put the Crown first before his own needs."

James stepped back. "I won't!" he snarled not at her but at the cruel fate which would not allow him that which he wanted most. "I won't let them take Blair from me!"

Blair had spent the night in the Duke's bed being held tightly while he slept, and there were no nightmares this time. He had received an open invitation to return there if and when he wanted for whatever he wanted, and Blair intended to take James up on that. His Duke had been strangely subdued after returning from the stables to report that Fire had indeed returned. Blair missed seeing that ruggedly handsome face lit up with a smile and resolved to do whatever he could to bring it back to his lover's countenance.

James had decided to stay at home that day and was giving Blair the grand tour of the manor and grounds, telling him stories about his childhood almost as if to encourage Blair to reveal more about his past. But Blair had yet to reveal any of the sordid details. He didn't want to think of the past. He wanted to throw himself into this fantasy he and James were weaving and pretend it never had to end, even though he knew, deep in his heart, that it had to eventually.

Their tour finished in the library. It was a warm, cozy room with a roaring fire to shut out the wind and rain from outside. James sank onto one of the elaborate wainscott chairs carved with Tudor roses and brought Blair to sit between his legs.

"When I was a boy, Julia and I would hide in here on rainy days and play. There was one game I was always very good at called 'blind man's bluff' where I'd wear a blindfod and have to catch Julia just by the sounds she made moving around the room. I've always been able to hear better than others; in fact, all my senses have always been very sharp. If I concentrate on one of them I..." he stopped wondering if Blair would laugh at him, but the smaller man just lay quietly in his arms listening, willing to believe whatever James told him. "Right now I can hear your heart beating, but if I concentrate I can also here the servant's voices in the kitchen. I can smell the scent that makes you Blair, but I can also smell the roses in the garden. I know it sounds ridiculous..."

Blair placed his hand over Jamses'. "No, I believe you, but I 'would' like a demonstration." He turned around and grinned at Jamses. "Do you have a blindfold?"

The Duke blinked in surprise. "What?"

"This game of yours, 'blind man's bluff', I want to play it with you, but with a new set of rules."

James touched his forehead to Blair's. "What rules?"

"No clothing allowed."

"I think I like these rules, but I warn you, it's going to be very easy for me to hear your breathing, to smell your arousal."

"What makes you think I'm aroused?" Blair teased.

James' hand slid down to his lover's groin and pressed against his hardening cock. "This."

"Oh," Blair smiled. "Then we''ll have a time limit. You will have to find me in under two minutes."

"I can do that. I'll always be able to find you, no matter how far away you are."

Blair stood so James could find something to use as a blindfold. He returned with one of Julia's handkerchiefs. They disrobed quickly, each one watching the other intently while he did so. Blair took the blindfold and tied it around James's eyes. "Can you see? No fair peeking."

"You'd better run now, Blair. I'm only going to count to ten."

"Slowly, I have to make this difficult for you. Do it in French."

"Blair, I'm not as good as you are at foreign languages."

Blair grinned. "I know. Go ahead."

James sighed, struggling to remember what his childhood tutors had drilled into him. "Un, deux..." "Trois," Blair helped. "Trois, you'd better get going, quatre, cinq, six, ...um sept, this is not fair,...huit, neuf,...dix." When he finished counting, he opened up his hearing and listened carefully. There it was, a quickly beating heart and respiration, a scent that told him Blair was enjoying this game immensely. It was coming from behind him, so he turned and heard soft footsteps move over to the right. He moved to head Blair off, but his lover was too quick for him and slipped away before he could pounce. James could sense Blair standing behind the chair they had been relaxing in. If his lover could play sneaky, so could he. He faked left, and Blair moved right, just as James had known he would. He flew over the chair and flattened Blair to the soft bear rug that lay in front of the fire.

Blair laughed uncontrollably and conceded his defeat. "You win! You win!"

James loved the sound of Blair's laughter. He removed the blindfold and stared down into Blair's flushed face. "And just what do I win?"

"I'm afraid I can only offer myself to you."

James bent down to kiss him. "Then it was well worth it." He started to return his attentions to Blair's mouth, but Blair stopped him.

"This time, James, you will do as 'I' say. I have waited long enough to feel you inside me."

The Duke felt his cock jump to full hardness at those words. "Yes," he growled low in his throat. "I want you so badly! I...I have to get something to use."

Blair laid a hand on his arm and showed him a small jar he'd secreted in his pocket earlier hoping for just such an opportunity. James smiled. "You really are prepared."

"I want you." Blair handed the jar to his lover, knowing that James would not take him right away as the others had. He would want to pleasure him first to make sure he was relaxed and prepared. This knowledge excited Blair further.

As expected, James placed the jar aside for the moment and entwined the fingers of one hand in Blair's curls, stroking through them. Blair reached up to touch James' broad chest and pinched one oh his nipples hard. He had never thought he'd be glad of the skills he'd acquired as the King's whore, but as he used them to pleasure his Duke, he suddenly found them more tolerable. He brought his mouth to the rock hard nipples and tongued them while James moaned and clenched his hair. Next Blair sucked small, red welts all the way down his lover's stomach until he reached his proud cock.

"Blair!" James cried through gritted teeth. "Blair, please!!"

Taking the turgid member in his mouth for the first time, Blair used his skillful tongue to bring the Duke into ecstasy. James was lying back in the soft, brown pelt rolling his head back and forth, loud gutteral moans eminating from his lips as he thrust into Blair's wondrous mouth. Blair stopped before James could reach his orgasm and retrieved the small jar to apply the cream inside himself.

"No," James said hoarsely. "I want to." He took the jar and dipped a finger in, coating it thickly with the viscuous substance. He pushed Blair down gently and encouraged him to bring his knees up as high as possible. Blair had never been taken in this position. His previous partners had wanted him on his stomach or on hands and knees, but James wanted to see his face, to look deep into his eyes when he came. His lover's concern for him helped Blair to relax as James' finger drew gentle circles around the cleft between his cheeks. James was kissing his face as he did so, leaving no doubt in Blair's mind of the man's feelings for him. When the finger finally slipped into him there was an immediate acceptance and welcome. When James felt he was ready, he added another and continued kissing down Blair's neck, across his shoulders, and onto his chest.

Finally, Blair reached a point where his longing was so intense that he simply could not wait any longer. "James," he gasped. "I'm ready. I have to have you now!"

The tone in his lover's voice brooked no refusal. James took his cock in his trembling hand and aligned it between Blair's cheeks. He pressed in slowly, stopping after only the head was engulfed. "Oh, god!!" he shouted. "Blair, I can't...I can't hold back! You're too tight, too hot!"

"Then don't." Blair took one of James' hands and held it tightly. "Unleash that strength I've seen it you. I want it. I crave it. Let it go, James."

At that urging, James lost whatever control he had had left. He plunged deeply into Blair. He didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to use him, but that wasn't what their fierce love making was about. It was rough, yes, and Blair would undoubtedly be sore on the morrow, but it was as if the joining of their bodies had been the precurser of the joining of their souls. And here, wildly thrusting and meeting thrusts, it became easier to believe that destiny had meant for them to be together, that nothing could ever tear them apart. When James' cock stroked his prostate, Blair screamed as he came, and the words he had been longing to say tumbled out.

"James! Je t'aime!"

Those words filled James' ears and brought him falling from the great height at which he soared, his body alive with pleasure. He clutched Blair desperately as he came, returning the sentiment just as strongly. "I love you, Blair. I've always loved you." Outside a fierce storm was brewing both with rain and thunder and in the hearts of those who would try to come between the two lovers. But inside, in each other's arms, they were at peace, for now.

After their lovemaking they lay in each other's arms. Blair simply refused to move out of James' embrace. It felt much to warm and safe there to leave. James was stroking his cheek with a featherlight touch and smiling down at him.

"What happened to that shy little Frenchman I first brought here?"

"He fell in love with you."

James' smile widened. "Blair, do you trust me?"

"Yes,"

"Then tell me about your life at the French Court. Let me take all the pain from your heart."

Blair looked away. "Why are you ruining this?"

"I'm not, Blair. It will help to get it all out in the open, I promise. If you trust me, you know I can help you. We can wipe away those memories and replace them with our love. Just tell me what you can."

Blair was silent for so long that James thought he was not going to share his secrets. Finally he blurted out, "I was fourteen!"

James pulled him close and stroked his back, giving comfort. "It's all right. Go on; let it all out."

"I was fourteen," Blair repeated softly. "Fourteen when he took me from my parents, 'bought' me from them! I still remember my father's greed as he accepted the money and my mother's sobbing as they took me away. I was to be a servant to the Dauphin and his wife, Mary, but my father knew, he knew why the King really wanted me!" Blair's face was full of unleashed anger. "When we got to Court, the King treated me well at first, gave me all kinds of gifts, 'bribes!" he spat out. "Then one night he came to my bed chamber. He..." Blair could not continue.

"It's all right. It's all right," James soothed, rocking him. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

"He told me I was beautiful, that he would make me feel good. I was so innocent, I didn't even really know what was happening that first time. Later, he began to give me to other noblemen as a 'reward'. Some were kinder than others, but by that time, I knew what I was, what I am, a common whore."

"You're not a whore!" James shouted at him. "Whores choose to sell themselves. You had no choice! You were just a boy. I love you, Blair. I always will. Do you believe me? Blair?" He turned the young face to his expecting to see tears, but instead the beautiful face was filled with hatred, hatred for those who had used him. James marveled at his lover's inner strength. That he had any courage and dignity at all left bespoke of the man's great spirit. "I love you, Blair," he repeated.

Blair looked into his eyes, and his countenance changed. The look of hatred changed to one of love. "Whatever I was, I am not that now. You have made me what I am, James. You have given me my life back, and I love you for that."

The days passed in much the same manner. Blair and James made love often, returning frequently to the secluded meadow, sometimes just lying in the grass talking. Blair was able to tell James more about his life at the French Court in small pieces. It became a little easier each time with James there to hold him as he spoke of things he never thought he'd tell anyone. He hadn't broken down once, hadn't shed one tear yet. They travelled the countryside visiting the many farmers including Tommy and Catherine's family. Tommy was completely recovered from the illness which had ravaged his small body, and Catherine's ability to read was growing by leaps and bounds. Blair even taught her a few French phrases, and it wasn't long before her French almost exceded James', but Blair tutored the Duke in other things, just as James educated him in the ways of love. After four weeks like this, it was as if his other life had never even existed. It had always been just him and James together and passionately in love, and then, one day, Blair's world came crashing down around him, never to be the same again.

Blair was walking through the courtyard waiting for James to return from fixing a broken fence along the west end of his property when a man horseback approaced. He took Blair for a servant. "Where is the Duke of Norfolk?" he demanded.

"He''s not at home, but he will be back shortly," Blair managed to reply.

"You will tell Lord Ellis that Her Majesty has commanded his immediate return to Court. She has mustered her troops for the assault he is to lead on Scotland."

"What? There must be some mistake."

"There is no mistake, Boy. See that he gets the message." With that, the Royal Messenger steered his horse around and galloped away.

Blair felt his knees give out as he realized what was happening. He sat down hard where he was. He hadn't cried when he was snatched away from his parents or even when he was repeatedly raped at Court, but now he could not hold back his anquish, and tears rolled down his face; James would go to Scotland, and he would return to Mary. He'd seen the English soldiers who came to Scotland before. They and others not used to the brutal land and its people often came home broken men if they came home at all. And even if James returned, he and Blair would be separated, rarely, if at all, seeing each other. James would be forced to marry, and for now Blair would be sharing his Misstress' captivity. His only other option was to return to France, but even with the King dead, there were still others who had tormented him in power.

As James brought his horse into the courtyard, he saw his love sitting there in the dirt sobbing, something he had never seen Blair do. He dismounted quickly, leaving Charger to fend for himself and ran to Blair.

"Blair, Blair, what is it? What happened?" Blair looked up at him, those beautiful eyes full of sorrow, and James realized, he knew, somehow he had found out about Scotland. James knelt beside him, and Blair grabbed fistfuls of his shirt in both hands and began begging him, so distraught he reverted back to his native French. "Je ne veux pas que tu t'en vas! Ne me quitte pas, s'il vous plait! Je t'aime! JE T'AIME!!"

James was able to understand most of what Blair was trying to say. "I don't want to leave you. I love you too! I have no choice. I had to accept the position for the Queen to agree to let you stay here with me."

Blar looked up sharply at that. It was his fault. If anything happened to James in Scotland it would be his fault!

James realized what Blair was thinking. "No, it's not your fault! I wanted this. I wanted 'you', and I wouldn't trade our time together for anything. I'll come back to you, and we'll find a way to be together. Somehow we will!"

Blair shook his head, not believing him. He'd been a fool to believe his life could change. "One last time," he whispered. "Make love to me one last time."

James' eyes were full of grief as he brought Blair to him and lifted him in his arms. He carried Blair into the manor, unmindful of the servant's eyes on them. Blair had his face pressed tightly to his chest still whispering brokenly in French, still clinging tightly to his shirt. He lay Blair back on his bed, but Blair refused to let go of him. James placed his hands over the smaller one's of his love.

"It won't be the last time. I promise you that, Blair. It won't be the last time!" He bent his head to brush his lips against those of the man who had come to mean so much to him. They had so little time left. He already felt as if he knew Blair completely and totally, but now, he would have to impress the young man's body into his soul, so that during the cold Scotish nights he would be able to remember their warm and tender lovemaking. He rose and removed his clothing. What would it take to prove his committment to Blair? What must he do to show his love the great lengths he would go to to return to him? Suddenly, he knew. He helped Blair remove his own clothing until they lay naked against each other. Blair was kissing him hungrily, for he truly believed this would be his last time with his Duke.

"Blair," James whispered. "This time, let me give myself to you as a token that I 'will' come back to you, that we 'will' be together again."

Blair froze, stunned. He had always been the submissive one in all his sexual experiences including with James, but here the man was offering his body to him to prove his love. He ran his fingers across the soft beard on James' cheek. "Bien-aime, beloved."

James rolled them over so Blair was on top. It felt good, right somehow to have him there. He was kissing along James' chest, long hair brushing James' nipples in teasing touches. The Duke brought his hands to caress down the warm back of the man who lay astride him. He was letting Blair lead this time, surrendering completely to his love. Every touch from Blair's hands, every kiss from his lips was like the heat of a thousand burning suns on his skin.

//Oh, my love,// he thought. //How could I give you up? How could I live without you?// Blair's lubricated finger was in him now. James had done this before, but it had never had this much meaning, never felt so right. Blair added another finger. His lover's face was sadly intent on what he was doing, his sorrow evident even in his pleasure. He stroked his fingers inside James, twisting them, massaging his prostate.

James jerked, bringing Blair off the bed with him. "My love!" he shouted. "Never! I will never let them take you from me!" He opened his eyes and fixed Blair with a piercing stare. "Do you believe me?"

Blair said nothing. He removed his fingers and massaged some of the cream into his cock.

"Blair?" James asked again.

Blair still would not answer. He aligned his cock against James' ass and pushed inside in one swift thrust as if releasing some sort of anger. Then the look on his face changed to one of wonderment. It was all so clear to him now. Everything in his whole life fell into place. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes, I believe you, James. We will always be together." He reached down and took the hand of the man who had given him his soul back. As he began to thrust into him, he clutched that hand tightly, never wanting to let go, but knowing now, that 'somehow' James would return to him.

When Blair awoke, James was gone, and he knew that his love had already left for Court. He felt an utter lonliness that he had never felt before, an incompleteness as if half of his soul were missing, and it was. Beside him on the bed lay a perfect white rose from the garden and a piece of parchment. Blair ran his finger across the soft petals, noting the absence of thorns on the stem. James must have broken them off. He picked up the parchment that James must have put quill to while he still slept and read.

My Dearest Blair,

Remember always that you have my heart. Read this, and know that I will always come back to you, in this lifetime and the next.

Forever yours, James

What followed was a sonnet James must have copied from one of the books in the library.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.
And summer's lease hath all to short a date.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor Death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st.
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Blair held the parchment tightly in his hand. //Come back to me, my love!// he thought fiercely. //Come back to me!//

James strode along the corridors of Hampton Court Palace. He would be leaving that very afternoon with his troops to face the unknown in Scotland. A familiar and much loved face caught his attention in the courtyard below, and he ran down the long flight of stairs.

"Blair, Blair!" he whispered excitedly awareof others milling around the yard. "I didn't expect to see you again before I left."

"I'm on my way back to Bolton Castle. We stopped here for the night. Oh, James, I've missed you so much!" He longed to throw his arms around the man, but he knew he couldn't out in the open like this.

"And I've missed you. God, how I've missed you, Blair!"

"So this is the man who is brave enough to lead the English troops into Scotland. Lord Ellis, we meet at last," a loud voice interupted in a French accent.

James turned to meet the dark, dangerous looking man who had approached them. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Sir."

"Forgive my rudeness. I am Monsieur Fenelon, the new French ambassador to Her Majesty the Queen."

Beside him, James could feel Blair trembling violently. His love's face was a mask of hatred and fear, and James knew that this man, this monster who stood before him had been one who had raped his Blair.

Fenelon noticed the smaller man and smiled, a leering, grotesque smile that seemed to look right through Blair. "Blair! I had heard you were in England with Mary. It has been a long time. I look foward to...renewing our acquaintance."

James felt his fury wash over him and was about to draw his sword and run the man through when he felt the small hand on his arm and met Blair's gaze. 'No!' Blair was telling him without words, and he was right. While it would give him immense satisfaction to kill the bastard right where he stood, to do so in broad daylight would only invite disaster. "If you will excuse me, Sir, I must attend to my troops." He guided Blair off with him, but the smaller man could feel Fenelon's sickening gaze on him as he walked away.

James directed him to a private alcove and pulled him into his arms. "How can I leave you here with that monster? God, I could kill him!"

"James, James, I will only be here for one night, and then I'll be safe at Bolton Castle with Mary. You have no choice but to go. I don't want to spend our last few moments together like this. Kiss me!"

James crushed Blair to him and devoured those sensual lips. They opened their mouths to better taste the other, tongues dueling. It took all of James' will power to pull back. "Je t'aime," he whispered.

Blair smiled to hear his lover speak to him in his own language. "I love you. Come back to me, James."

"Always. I promise you that." James steeled his aching heart and turned. "Our love is stronger than this world, this time. Remember that, Blair." And then he walked away, each step ripping total agony into his soul.

It was dark and secluded at Hampton Court as Blair walked the lonely corridor returning to his room after a long walk in the garden to soothe his troubled spirit. He was taken by surprise when a figure shrouded in the shadows emerged and pushed him to the wall, pressing his body sickeningly against Blair's.

"Hello, Beautiful, I've been waiting for this, for you." Fenelon ran his long, greasy fingers down Blair's chest and pressed into his groin. "Happy to see me?"

There was a time when Blair would have submitted meekly, would have accepted this as the way of life, but that time was past. There was only one man he would let touch his body like that.

"Get your hands off of me!" he yelled with all the pent up anger of countless rapes and indignities.

Fenelon's brow furrowed in surprise. "Who told you, you could say no, Beautiful? Who told you, you had a choice? Was it your gallant, English Duke? Well, I don't see him here anywhere!" He bent to take Blair's mouth in a bruising kiss, but before he could, Blair spit in his face and wrenched from his grasp. Footsteps sounded in the hallway as the night watchman approached.

"You'll regret that, you little whore!" Fenelon whispered threateningly. "I'll find you wherever you go, and I'll make you pay for that!"

Blair fled to find the safest place he could find until he had to leave the next day.

Mary was pleased to see him and spoke with him privately on his return. "I can see many things have happened to you in your time away, Pet. Did you enjoy your time with your English Duke?"

"I love him, Your Grace." Blair felt safe in admitting it to her.

"Yes, I can see by your face that you do. Blair, I hate to see your heart broken like this. You know it can never be between the two of you."

"He will come back to me. We will find a way to be together," Blair replied firmly believing it.

"Cherie," Mary touched his hand. "He is an English Lord, you are a French servant. He is a Protestant, you are a Catholic. He is a man,...and you also are a man. You must give up this dream. I can't stand to see you suffer so."

"I can't, Madame. I can't live with out him."

"But you must, Blair. Somehow you must find the strength to." She clapped her hands. "Now, I shall need your help. The new French ambassador will be paying us a visit, and we must prepare to greet him. We will need his help to acquire assistance from France.

Fenelon! He was coming to Bolton Castle where he would surely enact his revenge for Blair's defiance! Somehow, Blair would have to escape. //Oh, James, where are you? I need you!// he pleaded to the mute walls.

James paced his tent like a caged tiger. Things were far worse here than he'd expected. Over one-third of his men were down with dysentery and the fever. They had been chasing the Catholic rebel leader, Angus Dunkirk, and his men for weeks now. Mary's Protestant, bastard half brother James kept promising to send Scotish troops to help put the rebels down, but the Duke doubted he would ever actually see them. The Scotish Regent was more than willing to let the English shoulder the burden of the fight. The Duke's second in command was the Marquis of Southampton, a man little more than a blood thirsty killer whose only thoughts were to slaughter the Scotish rebels any way possible. Dunkirk had led them on a merry chase. He knew the wild's of Scotland, and the English did not. Knowing the English had the superior numbers, he was wisely choosing to let the Duke's troops wear themselves out chasing him. The Queen had sent a messenger ordering them to attack what their spies told them was a rebel stronghold, and now they were waiting for as many men as possible to heal and be well enough to fight.

It was during the night that James' spirits sank the lowest. Lying on the crudely made cot that his status afforded him, he would listen to the howling wind outside, and his arms would ache to hold Blair. He could still picture his lover's exquisite face in his mind, still remember how it felt to be buried deep within him and to have Blair thrusting powerfully into him. Every morning that he woke and found himself alone in his makeshift bed was like a knife to his heart. He worried about Blair's safety, especially with the new French Ambassador's arrival. Would Mary be able to keep Blair safe at Bolton Castle? What if the bastard tried to...a picture rose unbidden to his mind of Fenelon lying astride Blair taunting him as he raped him. He could hear Blair cry out in pain as he was roughly violated, hear him beg for James to help him. The Duke tried to shut the image out of his mind. //No, Please, no!! If he hurts Blair, I swear, I''ll kill him, and I don't care if the Queen herself is watching! I'll rip out his steaming entrails and feed them to him!" But his anger did no good here, so far away. He could offer Blair no protection, and the feeling of helplessness was killing him.

It was dusk now, and very few of the soldiers stirred outside their tents. James looked up as a figure shrouded in a black cloak and hood entered his tent. His hand reached for his sword as the intruder raised his own hands and lowered the hood so that long, lustrous curls and sparkling blue eyes were revealed.

"Blair!" James gasped in surprise, and then lowered his voice. "How...? Why...?"

Blair stepped to him quickly, and James could not resist taking him in his arms as he had dreamed of so many a lonely night. He bent Blair back and kissed him with unrestrained passion. This was too wonderful to be true. It had to be a dream of his fevered mind.

"How did you get here? It's not safe for you here!"

"It's not safe for me anywhere, my love." Blair ran his fingers over the well loved face. "I might as well be with the man I love."

"But how...?"

"After you left, Fenelon attacked me."

"Oh my God, Blair! Did he hurt you? Did he...?"

"No, I will never let anyone but you have my body again, even if it means my death."

"Don't speak that way! I couldn't bear to be without you!"

"As I could not stand to be separated from you. I was warned that Fenelon would be visiting Bolton Castle. I arranged, with Mary's help, to book passage on a ship back to France. She gave me the jewels with which to bribe the Captain to sail without me."

"But how did you make it here?"

"You forget, I lived here with Mary for years before meeting you in England. I am familiar with much of the countryside, and Mary gave me this." He drew from his cloak a small parchment which bore the seal of Mary Queen of scots. "It guaranteed me safe passage through the rebels lands."

"Giving that to you could have meant her death if you were discovered. I owe her a great debt." It was confusing for James to feel that way toward a woman whose greatest desire was to usurp his Queen's throne. "But what if you had been captured by English troops?"

Blair withdrew another parchment, this one bearing the seal of the Duke of Norfolk. James took it and studied it for a moment. "Julia?" Blair nodded. "Blair, do you realize what would have happened if either side had searched you and found 'both' documents? They would have killed you!" James shuddered and pulled his love tightly to his chest. "It's not safe for you hear!" he repeated.

"I am not safe in England nor in France . The only place I am truly safe is here, by your side."

"Oh my precious Blair," James whispered into the soft curls. "If only I could keep you as safe as you seem to believe I can You have too much faith n me, my love."

"You have never failed me, James. I believe in our love; you taught me that. Have you stopped believing?"

"I will always believe in the strength of our love!"

"Then trust me now. I have arranged for you to meet privately with Dunkirk to discuss a mutual settlement."

James let go of Blair in surprise. "What! Blair, how did you...?" Then his eyes rested on the document with Mary's seal and he knew how Blair had been able to meet with the Catholic rebel leader. "Blair, I can't meet him alone. He'll ambush me."

"Dunkirk is an honorable man in difficult times, James. I knew him when I lived in Scotland. I truust him, and I will go with you."

"I can't take you into danger!"

"But it is 'I', dearest, who shall be leading you into danger, and you must trust me to keep you safe as I trust you."

He drew some clothing from a small sack he had brought with him. "If we dress as Scots, we will be less likely to be noticed when we reach Dunkirk's territory. This is called a feileadh mor." He showed James a large plaid colored blanket. "It is the color of Dunkirk's clan. Disrobe, and I shall show you how it is worn."

James had long ago put his trust in Blair. He had to trust him now. As he took off his clothes, Blair watched him hungrily. It had been so long for them! When he stood nude, Blair just kept staring at him. James cleared his throat. "You were going to show me how to put on one of these?"

"Oh, yes," Blair tore his eye's away from the Duke's groin. //God, I need to touch him, feel him, remind him that he's mine!// "First put on the shirt." James put on the large white shirt that Blair handed him. "Now 'this' goes around your waist like this." He wrapped the blanket around James' waist, and then took the loose end and brought it over his shoulder. "There, a very proper looking Scotsman."

James felt rather silly in the short, skirted garment with his knees sticking out, but Blair seemed to like it. In fact, he seemed to be highly aroused by the sight of his lover in Highland dress. Blair boldly brought his hand up James' thigh and, and it disappeared under the kilt. James couldn't see the hand, but he could feel the wonderful things it was doing to him.

"Blair!" he groaned.

Blair removed his hand. "First we must do something to make you less recognizable." He fingered the Duke's beard. "Let me shave you," he whispered sensuously.

James was finding it very difficult to refuse his lover anything at that point. He allowed Blair to settle him in the lone chair in the tent.

"Where...?" Blair started to ask, and James gestured frantically toward the small pile of his personal effects. Blair chuckled. "You are so impatient, my Duke." He looked through the pile and found a pair of shears, a straight razor, and some soap. He brought them and the basin of rainwater that James had collected for his personal use and knelt between James' legs, uncomfortably close to what lay uncovered under James' kilt. The Duke could feel his love's body heat against his groin, and it was driving him mad with desire.

Blair took the scissors and began to snip away as much of James' beard as he could first. JJames squirmed in the chair unable to sit still with that delightful body so close to his.

"Sit still, James, or you'll end up with scratches on your cheeks."

"I'd rather have them on my back."

Blair grinned. "And you will, M'lord, if you will have a little patience." He took the soap and worked up as much of a lather as he could, applying it to James' face. Then he took the straight razor and ran it down James' cheek in a long, smooth stroke.

James could feel Blair's breath on his sensitized skin. The warm, softness of the man between his legs in contrast to the cold, wet steel gliding down his face had made hi cock swell painfully. If Blair didn't hurry up and get on with it, he was going to come just from being shaved. It was long, exquisite torture as Blair gently and carefully stroked the razor down his cheeks, onto his chin, and underneath by his throat. He trusted Blair completely and did not worry when the sharp steel passed close by his jugular. Blair could never hurt him. At last his cheeks were clean of any facial hair, and Blair tenderly dried them and kissed them as if to welcome a new part of the Duke's body that he had never touched. Then he grinned wickedly and slid down so that he his head was at knee level. Before James could comprehend what Blair was doing, he slid his head underneath the kilt so that only the tips of his curls peaked out.

The Duke had to stifle a scream when he felt the warm wet mouth envelop him. It was all he could do to stay in the chair. After so many weeks apart, to finally have Blair's mouth on him was unequivically heaven. And when he came so hard he almost passed out, he finnally did tumble out of the chair and onto the ground, bringing his laughing lover with him.

The two figures slipped from the tent under cover of darkness, both wearing cloaks to disguise their manner of dress. Silently they saddled their horses and slipped out of the camp into the cold Scotish night. Blair urged his horse into a swift gallop, and James had to dig his heels into Charger to keep up. Blair had been telling the truth when he had said he was a competent rider. He guided the unfamiliar mount around sharp outcroppings of rock with ease. James followed Blair's lead for miles into the unfamiliar territory until they came to an open field where a party of men awaited them.

Blair dismounted and approached the large, blonde man who appeared to be the leader. "I have done as I said, Dunkirk. The Duke is willing to listen to your words."

James dismounted and looked around uneasily. The Scotish rebels were eying him angrily as if they were just waiting for a word from their leader to kill him. Dunkirk had a long, narrow scar running from forehead to chin on the left side of his face as if someone had slashed him with a dagger. It gave him a menacing air. James was surprised when he clasped Blair's hand.

"I thank you, Blair. You have done us a great service." He turned his attention to the Duke. "Lord Ellis, you have nothing to fear from us 'here'. I have promised Blair your safety, and I am a man of my word. I think we are very much alike, you and I, two fierce warriers fighting for the honor of their Queens." His comments made James wonder. Did he really have anything in common with this rebel. Dunkirk continued. "I see you doubt me. But do we not both exist entirely for the love of one person?" He nodded towards Blair, and then took the hand of the woman behind him. "This is my wife. She and my children are the reason I fight for my country." His wife was a strong woman who looked as if she could hold her own in battle beside her husband. She fixed the Duke with a proud glare and fingered the jeweled dagger ay her waist.

"I am here, Dunkirk." James advanced to stand opposite his enemy. "I have placed myself in danger and come to you alone. I am ready to listen to your words." He met Dunkirk's eyes, standing up to the man despite his weak position surounded by the clan.

"The rebel stronghold you are planning to attack is a stronghold no longer. It is true, we once hid our troops and weapons there, but we have since removed them. It is only a simple peasant village now full of innocent men, women, and children. It will give you no advantage to attack it."

"Unless the slaughter of innocent babes pleases you!" snarled his wife. "You will pay, English dog, you will pay if you harm them! I shall kill you myself!" She drew her dagger.

Blair placed his hand over the one which clasped the weapon. "Sheath your weapon. James is an honorable man. He has no desire to see innocents killed. That is why he is here."

"We shall see." The woman replaced the dagger in its sheath. "I have always trusted you, Blair."

"Then trust me now. James will do all he can to protect your village."

"Blair," The Duke could offer no such guarantee. Could he take the word of his enemy that the village was no longer a rebel stronghold? Certainly not, but could he take the word of his love, his Blair that the man was honorable? What ever he chose to believe and do, people would suffer because of it. Who did he owe his allegiance to, his Queen or a man he had only known for two months. Elizabeth owned his loyalty, but Blair owned his soul.

He addressed Dunkirk stonily. "If what you say is true, I will do what I can to save your village. If you lie, my forces will burn it to the ground. You ask to much of me to take your word as proof of your withdrawal. I would not be much of a soldier if I let my enemy slip through my fingers so easily."

"I would reply the same myself. If you are truly a man of honor, you will keep your word and spare the village. You may go in safety." The clansmen who had crowded in on James to keep their leader safe backed away, still making threatening gestures.

The Duke mounted his horse and Blair followed suit. He could sense Blair's anger at him. How can he expect me to blindly accept the word of my enemy? Blair spurred his steed into a fast gallop, and James could not keep up. He chased the disappearing horse for miles as Blair pushed his mount at a punishing pace.

"Blair!" he shouted, "Blair, wait! I couldn't..." The wind ate the rest of his words. He lost sight of the rider and dispaired of finding him until he galloped past a clearing where Blair had dismounted and waited angrily for him.

"How could you!" he shouted before James had even dismounted. He drew back from the hand that the Duke reached out with. "You would go through with an attack on simple peasants like your own at Norfolk?"

"Blair, I can't call off an attack simply because the enemy tells me to. I will take an advance party to the village to see if Dunkirk is telling the truth. If he is, I will call off the attack."

"You should just be able to trust me!"

"Blair," James tried again to touch the smaller man and was again rebuffed. "Have you seen this village with your own eyes? Can you say for certain that he does not have troops there?'

"I know Dunkirk. I trust him."

"Blair, this is war. These Catholics threaten my Queen's throne."

"I also am a Catholic." With a quick move he pulled James' sword from its scabbard and pressed it into James' hand. "Will you kill me as well to save your Queen?" He knelt before James and moved his long hair out of the way exposing his neck. He closed his eyes as if awaiting the death blow.

James let the sword fall unheeded to the ground and fell to his knees beside Blair. He pulled the man into his arms, and this time Blair allowed it. "Blair, my love," He felt tears slipping through his tightly shut eyes. "Why can this world never leave us alone? All I want is to love you! I care not for sovereigns, or class, or religion. All I care about is you, Blair!"

Blair knew that he could trust in the Duke's love. He would have to accept the man's compromise. It was all he could be expected to give in these confusing times. "I know," he whispered. "I know you love me. You will see, James, when this is all over, we'll return to England and go back to Wellington Lodge where no one can touch us. We'll be together!"

James lifted his tear stained face to look at his love and nodded, but both men knew it could never be.

"This is foolishness, Norfolk! There is no reason to send an advance party to give Dunkirk warning!" The Marquis of Southampton shouted at him angrily.

"You forget your place! I command these troops, and I will not allow an attack on innocent peasants!" the Duke responded to his second in command.

"There are no innocent Catholics. Regardless of Dunkirk's presence, the village must be purged."

James grabbed the man by his shirt and pulled him so that they were face to face. This man would kill anyone simply because of their faith. He would hate to think of Blair in this monster's hands. "If you ever make such a statement to me again, I shall put my sword to you!" he snarled and then tossed the man to the ground.

Southampton rose and eyed him, and the Duke knew he had made a bitter enemy "Yes, M'lord," he said mockingly. "As you command. I shall go prepare a group of soldiers for our 'scouting mission'."

During the interval, James made sure Blair was safely hidden in his tent and ordered him to stay put. When he heard the stirring of the soldirs outside, he kissed Blair goodbye. "I shall do all that I can"

"I know you will, my love." Blair smiled at the Duke's retreating figure.

James led Southampton and the small brigade of men on horseback to the small village where they watched hidden behind a group of trees. There was no sign of any rebel activity, simply peasants going about their daily activities. Small children played happily out in the open.

"I'm going to ride around to the south side and see if I can spot anything," James whispered to Southampton. "You stay here with the troops and wait for me." The Marquis nodded, and James led Charger silently out of sight. He circled the village and still was unable to detect any signs of rebel activity.

Suddenly the sound of men's shouts and horses' hooves filled the air. Southampton was leading the brigade in an attack on the village! James directed his steed into the midst of the battle, sickened by what he saw. The English were massacring the frightened peasants. He tried to call out the retreat, but his voice could not be heard above the fray. He saw Southampton out of the corner of his eye. He held a frightened young girl captive, had ripped her dress to shreds and was groping her. James' vision went red as rage gripped him. Instead of a peasant girl, he saw Southampton trying to rape his beloved Blair. He leaped from his horse and pulled the Marquis off the screaming girl. He slammed his fist into the leering face again and again until the man made no move to get up. James mounted Charger again and rode into the heart of the battle repeatedly calling the retreat. The confused soldiers noticed him finally, and he urged them out of the village with a wave of his hand. Trained to follow his orders, they began to obey. James saw the Marquis get back on his horse and ride off as well. The Duke refused to leave his position until all the English soldiers had left, surveying the dead and dying. //Dear god!! Dunkirk was telling the truth! Blair was right! What have I done!//

James lay quietly, head nestled in Blair's lap. He had spoken very little since his return from the village. Blair's fingers softly stroked through his hair.

"You did all that you could, my love. I know that now."

"I don't know that the widows and orphans I've created would be as forgiving."

"You didn't sound the attack, James, Southampton did."

James suddenly sat up as if he had come to a decision. "It is time for us to return to England," he said resolutely. "Less than half of my men are well enough to fight now. The Queen can't expect me to keep on in the face of these obstacles. I am tired of this war. I just want to take you home."

"And we will go to our meadow?" Blair asked.

"Everyday, even when it rains, and I will hold you, and make love to you, and keep you safe."

"James," Blair's face was troubled. "We can't..." "Don't" the Duke put a finger to Blair's lips. "I want to pretend a little longer, just a little bit longer." He settled back into Blair's lap. "And in the Spring, you and I will help Catherine's family plant their corn, and we'll go barefoot in the mud."

Blair felt tears coming to his eyes and forced them back with determination. "Stop it, James, just stop it! I can't pretend any longer. You have to face it. They will tear us apart when we return!"

James' face was full of pain. "If I cannot have you in this lifetime, I will have you in the next, but we will be together, Blair. It is our destiny."

Elizabeth Tudor meticulously chose a set of diamond and emerald earrings to offset her gown. An untrained observer would have been hard put to recognize her anger as Lord Burghley explained the failure of the Scotish campaign.

"Lord Ellis regrets to inform Your majesty that he is forced to retreat. His numbers have been greatly reduced by the fever."

"I gave no orders to retreat," Elizabeth said in a cool voice.

"Your Majesty is correct."

"I do not accept the Duke's failures. When Lord Ellis returns have him taken to the Tower to await trial for high treason."

"Treason, Your Grace?"

"He disobeyed a direct order from his Sovereign. The man must be punished. I will brook no failures in my Court."

"And what of his French lover? My spies inform me that he was with Lord Ellis in Scotland."

Elizabeth twisted the pearl necklace she was wearing just as she twisted the lives of so many of the men who had the misfortune to cross her, and smiled. "I will be moving Mary and her entourage to the Tower as well. Let Sir James and his precious Blair be close but apart. I want the little slut to be able to see what price I force Sir James to pay,...and then, I have plans for the little Frenchman. I believe our new French Ambassador has expressed a desire for a new manservant."

James sat staring out the small window at Beaumont Tower, wondering how it had come to this. His gaze never left the White Tower where he knew Mary was imprisoned. //Blair is in there,// he thought. He was only a few hundred yards away, and yet he was really a lifetime away. James looked around his small room realizing he was lucky to have it. Many prisoners of the Tower were throne into the basement dungeons never to come out again. Thank god it had not come to that, yet. Elizabeth was furious with his failure, but she could not find her once favored courtier guilty of high treason, could she? He ran his fingers along the wall beside him where he had carved a name, five simple letters, and yet they brought him such comfort, BLAIR. Was he safe? Was he worried about James? The Duke frantically thought of ways to get a message to his love, perhaps a guard could be bribed or one of the other prisoners he came in contact with during his daily exercize period along the wall.

The ravens who had lighted on his window took off with a flutter when the door to his room creaked open and the guards entered.

"Lord Ellis, the Queen has signed the warrant for your questioning." They each took an arm and led James down, down to the deepest part of the Tower where the walls were fifteen feet thick, and no one could here you scream.

There was no window in the room where they took him. The only light came from the guard's small lantern. He was pushed roughly into the chair in the corner of the room.

"Our spies tell us that you met secretly with Angus Dunkirk in Scotland. Did you plot to overthrow the Queen?"

"NO! I..."

"Confess, Lord Ellis! We have a witness who will testify that you and Dunkirk plotted to kill the Queen. Confess, and it will go easier for you." The guard held up a document for James to sign.

"I cannot confess to a crime I have not committed."

"Then God have mercy on your soul, Lord Ellis, for Her Majesty certainly will not! We will show you how England deals with traitors!" He raised his lantern to show James the contraption in the corner of the room. "That," he gestured. "Is Scavenger's Daughter, and after a few days in her, I warrant your tongue will move more freely!" the guard laughed.

Several of the other guards dragged James from his chair and threw him to the floor by the machine. One of them grabbed his head and forced him to stare at it. "Aye, get a good look, man. After a day in her you'll be begging us to release you."

They stripped him and fitted the device around him. It was designed to restrain a man with his legs brought up bent at the knees and wrists brought together in front. At first, it would just be very uncomfortable, but after hours, then days, cramps would set in, and the position would become unbearable. The guards left him there alone on the cold, damp floor, taking the one small light with them, and leaving James in utter darkness. The only light he had was that the thought of his love brought to his heart, and as the hours passed and the first cramps began to set in, he concentrated on that face and was comforted. He could withstand any torture if only he could spare Blair a similar fate. When his body finally went numb, he thought it a blessing, but when two more days had passed, and the guards came to release him, he realized his mistake. As the blood began to flow back into his tortured limbs, it felt like thousands of tiny needles were piercing his body, and he screamed. //BLAIR!!// his mind cried in his agony. //BLAIR!!//

Blair fingered the well worn parchment in his hand that James had managed to smuggle to him. He watched out his window, watched and waited for James trial to be over. He would be able to get a quick glimpse of his love as they led him away, and he would be able to tell the outcome of the trial. If the guard had his axe blade facing away from James, he would be free, but oh god, if the guard had his blade facing James, he would have been declared guilty and would be executed for treason. //Dear god, no, please no!!// Blair thought frantically. He looked down at the sonnet James had sent him and read it yet again, hoping for some comfort.

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like o one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friend's possessed,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least.
Yet in these thoughts, myself almost despising;
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love rememb'red such wealth brings,
That I scorn to change my state with kings.

The paper fluttered from Blair's hand as men began to file out of Whitehall where the trial was being held. He was finally able to catch a glimpse of James, and his heart broke to see what had become of his once strong and proud Duke. James looked haggard and sick. He squinted as if the sunlight hurt his eyes, but he could not shade them for his hands were manacled tightly together. It was then that Blair noticed the guard's axe with its blade turned to face James. His knuckles grew white as he gripped the windowsill fiercely, struggling to stay upright on weak knees as his mind screamed, //NOOO!!!//

Elizabeth Tudor was about to take her leave of the Tower. She was growing tired of these futile visits, tired of trying to convince Mary to ratify the Treaty of edinbugh. The proud bitch would never sign; she had made that very clear. A disturbance in the hallway drew her attention. Her guards were struggling with someone who was trying to reach her. she stepped into the hallway to see Norfolk's lover being held back by a guard.

"Your Majesty!" he cried. He broke free of the guard and fell to his knees at her feet. "Your Majesty, please I beg you, spare Sir James' life! He has done nothing wrong! He is completely loyal to you! Please, you can't execute him!"

Elizabeth surveyed the man pleading at her feet coldly. She gestured at her guards. "Get this French whore out of my sight." The guards dragged Blair away screaming, and Elizabeth smiled as she watched.

The damp cell floor was cold against the man's fevered cheek. A trickle of sweat ran down from his brow to sting in his eyes as he stared mutely at the stone walls of his prison. Now that he had been convicted of high treason against his Queen, his jailers no longer cared for his comfort. A condemned man needed no trappings of state, only a place to lie until the axe fell, severing his head from his body. James no longer cared to move within the small cavelike cell. He no longer had any hope to encourage any explorations. He simply lay there in a daze watching as the people who had shaped his life visited him in dreams and hallucinations. At certain intervals a guard would shove a cup of dirty water at him and some dried bread, but he no longer felt the need or desire to eat. His soul was dead, and soon his body would be too.

The noise of a key rattling in the lock failed to rouse his attention. He heard someone enter and give a quiet gasp of horror. It was the heartbeat that finally caused him to look. It beat in a rhythm so very familiar, so very comforting. He turned and saw the face of his beloved, his Blair. //If this is a dream or a hallucination, please God, don't let it end until I can touch him, until I can tell him I love him!//

"Blair?" he rasped hoarsely. He could barely speak from days of so little water.

The spectre knelt beside him and placed a finger against the dry, cracked lips. "Hush, my love. There is no need for words between us." He brought a flask of water from beneath the cloak he wore, and held it to James' lips while cradling his head with his other hand.

The fresh, clean water was a gift from heaven to James' parched throat, and he drank greedily, almost choking.

"Slowly, slowly, my love." Blair removed the flask and stroked James' back while he coughed, and then returned the water to his mouth until he had drunk his fill.

"How...Are you real?" He reached out to touch the soft curls. They certainly felt real twining around his calloused fingers.

"I am as real as you need me to be." The ghost stood, fingering the long, formless cloak it wore.

"Have you come to say goodbye?"

"I will not say goodbye. Our physical bodies may be separated from each other, but our souls will never be apart." Blair drew the black garment up and over his head to reveal his naked form beneath.

James stared at the vision. He would have Blair's physical love one last time whether real or fevered imagination, and it would give him comfort as he knelt on the scaffold. If only he were not so damn weak!

Blair took the cloak and laid it on the damp ground and urged James to lie upon it. It provided little comfort against the hard, stone floor, but it was enough.

James reached out his hand. "I want to touch you. Please let me touch you."

Blair took the outstretched hand and kissed it, then held it to his face tightly. "Can you feel it, James? Can you feel the love I have for you, the love I've always felt and always will?" He took the Duke's trembling hand and drew it slowly down his chest, allowing James to run his fingers through the dark hair there, to caress each nipple in turn.

"Blair, help me. I want you, but I can't..."

Blair understood and tenderly removed the dirty remains of James' clothing. He ran his eyes down his lover's wasted body and began kissing each bruise that marred the pale skin. There were so many! His hands found the limp shaft hanging at James' thigh and began to stroke it. It took a long while before the length of flesh began to harden in his hands due to James' long weeks of mistreatment.

His lover looked at him with sorrowful eyes, regretting his failure. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

Blair smiled tenderly at him and stroked his fingers through the short hair. "There is no need for apologies, my love." He continued to caress James' penis, letting his hair sweep across it until at last the rod began to harden. He retrieved the small jar he had brought, and took some of the cream into his fingers, breathing on it to warm it first. Then he began to massage the slick substance into James' erection.

James was beginning to feel the first stirrings of arousal. His weakened state confined him to simply lie there and enjoy the feeling of Blair's fingers stroking him, but it was enough, more than he could possibly have hoped for before his impending death. He watched as Blair took more of the cream and reached around to apply it to himself. James wished that it were him that was preparing his love for penetration, wished it were his fingers stroking inside that tight channel.

Blair read the emotions that were plainly written on the haggard face. "It's all right, my love. You shall be inside me soon enough." He finished his preparations and moved to straddle James' thighs. He bent to place a tender kiss on James' lips and smiled as the Duke's hand came up to caress his face. He allowed the hand to stroke gently, touching his forehead, cheeks, nose and chin as if saying goodbye.

"One last time, we will be joined one last time."

"No, James, we will always be joined. You will always be a part of me." So saying he placed the Duke's erection at the entrance to his body and pressed down onto it until he rested upon James' thighs.

The dungeon around them dissolved, and in its place was their meadow. It was summer; it would always be summer for them. The sun shone brightly on their naked backs, and the grass tickled them as Blair began to move his body up on James' cock and then impale himself upon it again in a rhythm the meadow knew well. She smiled to see her two lovers returned to her. She would always provide a special place for them. The sounds of birds chirping filled their ears, not the harsh cawing of the Tower ravens, but the sweet melodies of the Norfolk magpies. This was their heaven, their paradise, and even though it only existed in their minds, it was quite real to them. When they came in unison with the other, James felt the warm earth beneath him as he raked one hand through the soil, the other firmly grasped by his lover. They cried out their love for each other simultaneously and held onto each other tightly, as if by doing so they put a stop to the winds that would tear them apart.

The crowds gathered around Tower Hill as they always did for public executions. They had come to see the man who had failed his Queen pay for his crimes. Many peasants had travelled from Norfolk itself, not out of bloodthirst, but out of a desire to bolster the spirits of their good Duke. A murmer of anger ran through the crowd, anger that Sir James had been labeled as a traitor. When they saw him being escorted to the scaffold with his hands manacled behind his back, they cried out to him.

"God save you, Sir James!"

"We will avenge your murder, M'lord!"

James stood and looked out over the crowd. It was customary for a condemned prisoner to be given a last chance to speak, so he addressed the crowd. "I have always been loyal to my country, my Queen, and my heart. I beg of you, do not remember me as a traitor who tried to ursurp the throne of England. Remember me as a simple man who loved this land and its people and one who always tried to do what he thought was right."

The executioner advanced to him, and James offered forgiveness for what the man was about to do. He refused the priviledge of a blindfold. The hill was directly behind the White Tower where his love was being held prisoner. No ordinary man would have been able to see the figure that stood at the high window, but 'he' could see the beautiful face filled with anguish. He would look into those deep blue eyes durring his last moments on earth. He knelt awkwardly and bent foward to place his head on the block, never losing contact with that gaze. //I will wait for you, Blair. I will wait for you on the other side.// The executioner raised the axe into the air.

Elizabeth had noticed the angry murmers of the crowd with growing unease. She had not counted on the Duke's popularity among the commoners. Her own popularuty had been declining steadily since she had held Mary captive. The Catholics were getting ready to rise up against her. She dare not lose the loyalty of her Protestant subjects. There were other ways to punish Norfolk. She glanced back at the White Tower where she knew his lover watched. Perhaps she could not take his life, but she could deprive him of the one who gave his life meaning.

"Stop!" she cried in a loud voice, rising to her feet. She advanced toward the scaffold where the executioner had lowered his axe. "You are a brave man, Sir James. Swear your loyalty to me, and I shall spare your life."

James rose up on his knees. "I have always been loyal to you, Madam, and I always will."

"Then rise, James, Duke of Norfolk. Rise as a free man!"

The crowd began to cheer as James struggled to his feet. A guard moved to untie his hands, and his Queen took him by the arm and led him off the scaffold and back to his life.

The cool winds of fall were beginning to turn into the first frosts of winter. James was repairing a section of the fence that surounded Catherine's familiy's field. The log he was trying to place slipped, and he pounded his fist into it in frustration. It was all so futile! He sank onto the ground and covered his face with his hands.

A small hand touched his shoulder. "You miss Blair, don't you?" Catherine sank down beside him. "So do I. Don't cry, Sir James." She gave him a fierce hug, and he held onto her, trying to stop the sobs that wrenched from his heart.

He had been forced to retire from Court immediately. Once his fondest wish, now it separated him from his love. It had been months since he had seen Blair. He didn't know if Blair were safe, or if he were being force to serve the depraved needs of others again. It was the not knowing that troubled him the most, that and the lonliness that consumed him.

He had spent the first two weeks of his return in bed recovering from his imprisonment. He had no interest in resuming his old life again. Julia was constantly trying to find a way to break through his sorrow, but her brother had become unreachable, only half a man now.

James forced his tears away and looked up at Catherine. She placed a tiny finger on his cheek to wipe away the tears that were drying there. "You loved Blair, didn't you, Sir James?" she asked in her childlike innocence.

"Yes, Catherine, I did, very much." His voice broke at referring to Blair in the past tense. Would the ache in his heart ever go away? Did he really want it to if it meant forgetting Blair? He let Catherine help him finish mending the fence, and then he mounted Charger and rode for home.

He stopped first at the meadow that had become their special place. The sun was gone, and the grass had turned brown. It reflected the change in the Duke's heart. But summer would come again to the meadow, and it would once again be lush and verdant and alive with birdsong. Would summer ever come again to the Duke's heart?

When he reached Wellington Lodge, he noticed an air of sadness around the place. He sought out his sister. "Has something happened?"

She looked at him sadly. "We just received word. On St. Bartholomew's Day, the French Regent ordered the massacre of over a hundred of the Protestant nobility. She had them murdered while they slept, had them hunted down like dogs in the streets. All the Protestants here are enraged, especially in London. It's definitely not safe to be a French Catholic there. James, where are you going?"

"I have to get to Blair!"

"James, you know the Queen won't let you see him."

"I have to try! His life could be in danger!"

Elizabeth had moved Mary and her entourage once again, this time to Farthingale Castle. To appease her Catholic subjects, Mary was allowed more priviledges. Her servants were allowed to venture into town to make small purchases for her on market days.

As James dismounted from his horse, he fully expected to be denied entrance as he had been before he retired from Court. Instead the gatekeeper gave him a strange look as if he were expecting him and allowed him entrance. James heart filled with dread. The Queen wanted him here, wanted him to see Blair. What could that mean? When he entered the castle itself, he could sense a palpable sadness. A servant saw him and looked at him pityingly. Another led him to a small chamber where Mary sat by the bedside of a pale figure. She looked up at him. "Sir James, thank God you have come!"

James didn't want to believe that was his Blair lying there on his stomach. He didn't want to see the long, bloody lash marks that marred the perfect skin of his back. Mary was wiping his fevered brow with a cool cloth. James sank to his knees beside the bed. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"I sent Blair to purchase some things from the market. The crowd there had just heard about the massacre in France. He was a French Catholic, and he was there for them to wreak their revenge. They took a horsewhip to him, and then left him to bleed to death in the streets like an animal! I had to bribe one of my jailers to go out and look for him." She turned tear stained eyes to Sir James. "I have not been able to rouse him since he was brought back.The fever from the infection threatens his life. He will awaken if he hears your voice. You will be able to reach him. Will you stay, please?"

James reached a hand to stroke through Blair's hair, one of the few places on his love's body he could touch without causing pain. "I will not leave until he is well."

"Shall I have a servant prepare a bed for you?"

"There is no need. I will not leave his side." He glanced at Mary, barely seeing her. "Leave us, please."

She did so without question, leaving James alone with his love again after so many months of separation. James leaned over to kiss one of Blair's fever hot cheeks. "Blair? It's James, Blair. I'm here, and I'm not leaving you. Come back to me, Blair. Open your eyes." Blair stirred in his delirium but didn't open his eyes. "I'm going to take care of you, Blair, until you are well. Then I'm going to take you away, far away from anyone who would hurt you. I'll take you to a place where no one can separate us."

"James?" Blair's eyes were open, and he was looking at James in confusion.

"I'm here, my love. I'm not leaving you ever again." Blair's hand reached for his, and James took it, trying to send his strength into Blair to heal him.

"You'll take me away from here?"

"Far away, Blair, to a place where I will always be free to love you."

"Jim?" A new voice threaded its way into his consciousness. "Jim, open your eyes. Come back to me, Jim."

Who was that voice, and why was it calling him Jim? Detective James Ellison opened his eyes and gasped as the room spun around him in dizzying circles. Bethany looked down at him, concern plainly written on her face. "Jim, are you all right?"

"Jim, are you okay?" Bethany asked again.

Jim's world was still spinning around him. "My god! What was that?"

"That was the memories from one of your past lives resurfacing." She grinned. "I guess we know now I'm not the one for you."

Jim was rubbing his eyes trying to make sense of what had just happened. "Oh man, Bethany, I'm so sorry. You must think..."

"I'm not going to judge you, Jim. Hey, after the story you just told me, I'm routing for you and Blair. He doesn't know how you feel, does he?"

"No, I was afraid to tell him."

"Well, you can't still be afraid after 'that'! You and Blair were meant to be together; it's destiny." She pulled him to his feet. "Now go home. Go and tell Blair that you love him!"

Jim gave her a genuine smile. "Thank you. Thank you for understanding."

"You're welcome, now go! Blair's waiting."

//Blair's waiting.// Those words filled Jim's heart with joy. //My Blair is waiting for me.// He had no more doubts. Tonight he and Blair would be together again. They would start a new story. He couldn't wait to get home and take Blair into his arms again and for the first time, but first he had a stop to make. He needed to find out what had happened to Sir James and his French love.

Since it was near closing time the library was nearly deserted. Jim approached the librarian at the desk.

"May I help you, sir," she smiled at him.

"Yes, I'm looking for imformation on sixteenth century Elizabethan England, particularly anything you can find about the life of Sir James Ellis, Duke of Norfolk."

"Okay, why don't I get on the World Wide Web and do a search on that name. We'll see if we come up with anything." She moved to her computer and typed in the name, then began to skim the various files she found. "Oh now this is interesting. It says here Sir James was a favorite of Queen Elizabeth and quite popular with the peasants. It was also rumored that he had more of an eye for the lords rather than the ladies."

"Anything else?"

"He led the Scotish campaign of 1563. It ended in failure, and he was imprisoned in the Tower and almost executed for treason. Elizabeth spared his life at the last minute due to his popularity with the commoners. Oh, wow, listen to this. Legend has it, he was involved in a torrid love affair with a French servant to Mary, Queen of Scots while she was captive in England."

"Does it say what happened to them?" Jim asked impatiently.

"There are several rumors here. Some say they ran off to Scotland where the Scotish rebel leader Dunkirk offered them protection. Some say they made it to the new world and lived among the Native Americans in North America. But the most prominent souce has them fleeing to South America and living together in the Peruvian jungles."

Jim rocked back on his heels, stunned. Peru, James and Blair had made it to Peru, and it was in Peru that his Sentinel abilities had first appeared. It couldn't be a coincidence.

"Oh, here's a pictue of Sir James. Do you want me to print it out for you?" She looked up at him and gasped. "My god, you look just like him! Are you a descendant of his?"

Jim smiled secretly. "Something like that." He waited for her to print out the articles, and then walked back to his truck practically humming under hs breath. Soon he would be home with Blair and the circle would be complete. He made a quick stop at the drug store for certain items he knew they would need that night.

//Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, Slick?//

//Yeah, I am,// he grinned and headed for home, home and Blair.

Jim jogged up the stairs to the loft quickly. He could already hear Blair's heartbeat and sense the connection they shared. He wasn't nervous, in fact, he had never been so sure of anything in his life as he was on the outcome of this night. He opened the door to the loft and drank in the sight of his Guide standing by the kitchen table leafing through some papers.

"Hey, Jim!" Blair greeted him enthusiastically, and it was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds. Jim didn't speak, didn't pause, just walked over to Blair, his Blair, and took him in his arms. He gazed deeply into the brigt blue eyes as he pulled the beautiful face to his and placed his lips to Blair's, tasting the sweetness of the man. He was not surprised that after a moment of shock, Blair melted into his embrace. His arms came up to clasp behind Jim's neck, and he returned the kiss hungrily, opening his mouth to the bigger man.

Jim devoured his mouth with all the passion he had been holding back for so long. He let his hands run over Blair's trembling body. It was his first time touching Blair this way, and yet his hands knew exactly where to stroke to bring his lover the most pleasure. He could feel Blair's knees begin to weaken as the smaller man made soft moaning noises at the back of his throat. Jim pulled back and smiled at his dazed lover. He picked Blair up and lay him gently on the couch, cradling his head in one large hand. Neither man had spoken yet. Neither felt the need to.

Jim began unbuttoning Blair's shirt slowly, and Blair watched him. He sat up a little so Jim could remove it, and then lay back as Jim began to caress his chest. Jim brushed a finger against a nipple and bent to tongue the gold ring there. This was something new. His French Blair had only had the earings. What other differences were there?

Blair was arching under him, finally breaking the silence between them by moaning his name. "JII-IIMM!" He grabbed at Jim's head and pressed it to his chest for more of the wonderful sensation. Jim gave the other nipple the same treatment, and then sat back on his heels beside the couch. He felt the need to say something now, to tell Blair something he had said many times, but this Blair had never heard.

"Blair, I love you."

Blair closed his eyes as a shudder ran through him. "I've waited so long to hear you say that. I thought you never would. I think...I think I've loved you since the day I walked into that doctor's office and saw you sitting there, before that even, if that's possible."

"It's possible, Chief," Jim reassured while taking his own shirt off. It felt strange somehow to refer to Blair by the familiar nickname. Jim wondered how long this feeling of being in two places, two times would last. "I'm going to make love to you, Blair," he solemnly told the man in front of him. "You want me to, don't you?"

"I've always wanted you to, Jim."

Jim took Blair's hand and led him off the couch and up the stairs to his bed. He took Blair in his arms facing away from him and pointed the large bed out to his lover. "See that? That's your bed too now. That's 'our' bed. This isn't just some relationship to me, Blair. This is a life long committment."

Blair turned to look at him. "Yes, it is. There will never be anyone else for me but you, Jim, only you."

"Only us," Jim corrected gently.

They finished undressing, and Jim moved to lie on top of Blair's naked body. They were not tentative in their explorations. They loved each other as if they had done so many times, and in truth, they had.

Jim ran a hand up under Blair's bent leg, caressing his calf, behind the knee, thigh, and then coming to cover a perfectly formed ass cheek. He squeezed the firm muscle tightly, and Blair's leg jerked as he made a soft breathy sound. Jim raised his hand slightly and found the small dimple that he knew was right above Blair's ass and drew a finger up through it.

"God!!" Blair sat up against him breathing hard. "God, Jim, how do yo know? How do you know just where to touch me?"

Jim cradled Blair's head in his hand. "Practice," he grinned as he bent to kiss those full lips that opened so eagerly under his. When he pulled back, Blair's eyes looked like they were on fire with desire.

"You 'are' gonna fuck me, aren't you, Jim?" Blair asked almost pleading.

"Oh yeah, Baby." Jim growled. "I'm gonna fuck you until you come screaming my name."

Blair grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. But I don't have any KY or anything."

Jim fished a tube out of his discarded jeans pocket and showed Blair.

"Wait a minute, Jim. Did you think I was 'that' easy?" Blair laughed.

"Mhm, for me, Chief."

"You know me so well."

A strange look crossed Jim's face. "You have no idea how well." He uncapped the tube and squeezed some of the cool cream onto his fingers. Blair rolled over onto his side and spread his own asscheeks wide for Jim. The Sentinel's heart did flip flops, and a bolt of electricity hit his groin. It was so damn erotic seeing Blair like that. He pressed a finger against the rosy swirl between Blair's cheeks, circling it teasingly. His lover pushed back onto it, and Jim watched as his finger sank inside of Blair. Blair was wimpering, practically fucking himself on Jim's finger.

"Easy, Blair, easy now." Jim placed a soothing hand on Blair's flank and ran it up and down his side.

"Now, Jim, now! I want you now!" Blair chanted, demanded.

"Soon, Baby, soon. I have to get you ready for me first."

"I'm ready for you now!" Blair cried. "Please, Jim, please, fuck me!"

Jim slipped another finger inside of Blair and then another. He wanted to be inside of the man as well, but he was damned if he would cause Blair pain just for his own pleasure.

Blair was grasping the sheets, pulling them off the bed in his frenzy. His head was rolling back and forth as he repeated the Sentinel's name over and over. "jimjimjimjim!" Suddenly his voice stopped, and his eyes opened wide as Jim entered him. He sighed as if letting go of a lifetime of baggage, as if finally finding his place in the cosmos. It was here, joined to the man he loved, who loved him, and here it would always be.

"Jim?" he whispered softly.

"Yeah, Baby?"

"I love you, Jim."

Jim's heart melt at the soft profession of love. "I love you too, Blair, so damn much!" He began to thrust into the tight, hot channel, picking up speed as he felt Blair move to meet his thrusts. He buried his head in the soft curls of his partner, and the sweet fragrance there made his head spin. He stroked Blair's cock in time with his thrusts and was pleased to hear the loud moans that were ripped from Blair's throat. He buried himself deeply in that tight ass one final time and came explosively, feeling Blair's ssed flooding his hand as well. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard Blair softly whisper, "Je t'aime, James."

Jim wrapped Blair in the security of his arms and held him until both their shaking had abated somewhat. "I'm going to tell you a bedtime story," he breathed into a delicate, pink ear. "A story about a noble English Duke and his little Frenchman."

"And if you look over here, you'll notice something very interesting." Jim wasn't listening to the tour guide's dialogue as he and Blair tored the Tower of London. He had already had a previous, much more personal tour. He clasped Blair's hand tightly, glad that they had come to England to visit all the places they had seen in their past life together. There was a time long ago when he and Blair had had to hide their feelings for each other, but now in this time, Jim couldn't have cared less what others thought. Jim brought Blair's hand to his lips and kissed it, remembering when Blair himself had gone under to bring his memories back to the surface.

Jim had flatly refused to allow Bethany to try and dredge up any memories of Blair's time in the French Court. There were some memories better left almost forgotton. It was bad enough listening to Blair describe the French Ambassador's failed attack on him. And it had ripped Jim's heart out when Blair had recounted being horsewhipped in the streets.

Blair strode down the streets of London intent on bringing back the vegetables that Mary had asked for, for the night's supper. He noticed the angry faces of the people in the market and wondered what had happened. What ever it was, he didn't care. The Queen had spared James' life, but she had exiled him from Court. The last glimpse Blair had had of his love was him walking from the scaffold a free man. Would he ever see his Duke again? Blair longed to be in those strong arms again, long to feel James' body moving slowly against his. He didn't notice when a circle of scowling men closed in on him.

"Hey, Frenchboy, murder any innocent Protestant babies today?"

"What?" Blair asked shocked.

The one who had spoken grabbed him. "You and your kind don't deserve to live after what you've done!"

"What have I done?" Blair cried raising his hand to ward off the blows that the large man was raining down on him.

A bigger crowd began to gather. "That's right, John. Show 'im what we do to murdering Catholic bastards!"

Oh god, the man had a whip! Blair saw the man raise it and felt the harsh sting against his back. Again and again the man cracked the whip against him until Blair felt the blood running down his back in rivers. Would this torment never end? He searched for the blackness he knew would take away the pain and embraced it thankfully. One name kept repeating itself in his mind over and over as the whip bit into his flesh. "James, it hurts! Oh, James, help me! James!!"

"Blair?"

He must be delirious. It was James' voice, telling Blair he wasn't going to leave him. He was going to care for him until he was well and then take him away where no one could ever hurt him again. He forced his eyes open with great difficulty, and found it was true. James was sitting beside him, stroking his hair, soothing his pain. His back felt like it was on fire!

"You'll take me away from here?"

"Yes, my love, I'll take you far away to a place where I'll always be free to love you."

"It hurts, James."

"I know, Sweetheart. I'm here. Listen to my voice. Concentrate on the feeling of my hands in your hair, on your face."

"You will stay with me?"

"I'll never, leave you again, blair."

It was all right then, all right to close his eyes and rest. When he woke up, James would be there again. He had promised.

"That's right, Blair, sleep now. I'll be by your side when you wake up." The voice was so soothing. It was keeping the worst of the pain at bay, and Blair slept.

It was a long recovery for Blair, but James was beside him every moment, ignoring his own needs. He changed Blair's bandages daily, gently applying a healing salve. He wiped Blair's face with a cool cloth at night when his fever rose. But the thing that comforted Blair most was the sound of his love's voice, constantly whispering words of love and devotion, constantly reminding him that they would be together now, and no one else would ever hurt him again.

Blair grew stronger daily, encouraged by the Duke's tender care. And finally, it was time. With a large ruby ring from Mary, James arranged secret passage on a ship. He had heard there were lands in the new world where the natives honored those who loved someone of their own sex. They would seek out such a place and bulid a new life together.

When Blair had come out of his hypnotic state, he had touched his back tentatively as if expecting to feel the scars there, but there were none. "My god, Jim!" he had gasped. "It was so real. It was like it was me, but not me."

Jim had pulled him into an embrace. "I know. It was like that for me too. I'm just glad it had a happy ending."

"Yeah, James and Blair made it to Peru. Talk about destiny!"

"I meant us, Blair. We are the happy ending."

Blair's eyes grew wide, and he leaned against Jim's chest. "Yeah, we are a happy ending, aren't we?"

Jim's mind came back to the present where the tour guide was explaining the features of Beaumont Tower. "And underneath this tower is..."

"The dungeon where they used to torture the prisoners," Jim finished.

"Why, yes," the guide smiled. "Have you been here before?"

"Something like that," Jim grimaced. Then his Sentinel sight caught something on the far side of the room. "Blair, come look at this!" He brought Blair to the window and pointed at the stone wall beside it.

Blair put his hand out tentatively as if he thought the wall would bite him and ran his fingers through the grooves cut there so many years ago. Five simple letters were carved there, carved by a man who awaited his execution and whose only comfort was that name, "BLAIR."

"I remember carving that," Jim said. "I thought I would never see you again."

Blair put an arm around Jim's waist and snuggled close. "I'm here now, Jim."

Wellington Lodge still stood, and they had driven there only to discover it was closed to the public. But when the caretaker had gotton a good look at Jim's face and realized he was a descendant of the most famous Duke of Norfolk, he had allowed them free rein to explore.

They walked through the garden together, still beautifully kept, and Jim realized why he had loved helping his mom in her vegetable garden when he was a kid. //Too bad we don't have a place for a garden in Cascade.// He pictured a muddy Blair in denim overalls and no shirt kneeling in the dirt and grinned at the adorable picture his lover made.

They walked through stables, and Blair remembered the first time he had felt that hard, strong body pressed up against his. "I wanted you then," he admitted. "I wanted you to throw me down in the hay and take me."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "I know."

They toured the manor house as well. The Duke's original bed was still in the bedroom. Jim pulled Blair to him. "I made love to you in that bed," he reminded.

Blair touched his face. "You were so sweet and gentle. I was so afraid of being hurt, and you fulfilled every fantasy I had and one's I didn't even know I had."

Jim kissed him, savoring the sweet flavor of Blair's mouth. "I wish I could make love to you on that bed right now."

Blair grinned. "Jim, I don't think the caretaker would appreciate that."

Jim reached down to cup Blair's ass in his hands, drawing the smaller man even closer. His eyes had that familiar sparkle in them. "I have a better idea. Let's go see if we can borrow some horses for a while."

After an hour of riding around the estate grounds, Jim was beginning to worry that it was gone. He laughingly noticed that Blair the American anthropologist was not as an accomplished equestrian as Blair the French servant, and it didn't help that he had taken the more spirited of the two horses. He noticed the high rise apartments in the distance where Catherine and Tommy had lived and sighed his disappointment. Maybe it was too much to ask for. And then, there it was, just as beautiful as it had always been, just as he remembered, their meadow.

"Oh Jim," Blair dismounted and looked around with disbelief in his eyes. "It's almost like we never left."

Jim brought Blair to him, feeling a need to be touching his love. "I think there's a part of us that never did, Blair. There's a part of us that stayed here in this beautiful place loving each other forever."

"Love me now, Jim," Blair breathed against Jim's neck and raised his lips to be kissed.

"Always," Jim whispered back and bent his head to meld their mouths together as one. Was it their imagination, or did the sun just then begin to shine brighter, the birds to sing more sweetly.

Blair longed to feel the tall grass under his bare back again and Jim's muscular body on top of him, and soon, he got his wish. "I love you, Jim," he told his beautiful lover putting his heart and soul into the statement. "I love you so much one lifetime wasn't enough."

"Eternity would be to short for our love, Blair." Jim then made it his mission in life to touch every bit of Blair's body with his lips. He made his way over every inch of tender flesh slowly, kissing, licking, sucking. He tried to express his love for Blair through touch since words were no where near adequate to describe his love for tis man, a love that had lasted through centuries and would continue on until the end of time.

When he could find no more spots he had not given his attentions to, Jim debated starting a second round, but Blair was too far gone for mere foreplay now. He was so beautiful when half crazed with arousal. His face was flushed and his breath came in deep gasps, his legs spread wide around Jim's waist. Jim reached for the lubricant he carried with him everywhere now, and Blair nodded furiously.

"Yes! Do it! I've got to have you now, Jim!"

"My god, Blair, do you know what you do to me? Can you feel how hard I am just from touching you?" he took Blair's hand and placed it on his cock, groaning when the talented fingers began to stroke him. "Wait, Baby. I want to come in your ass, not your hand.

Blair released his cock and spread his legs wider for Jim, lifting his hips a little so Jim could slip a lubed finger into him. He gave a soft cry. "Oh!"

Jim felt the muscles of Blair's anus grip his finger and then relax.

"Another!" Blair demanded. "More!"

Jim added another finger, and Blair pushed back onto it almost sobbing with his need. "It's not enough, Jim! I need 'you' to fill me up. damnit! Now, please, Jim!"

Jim withdrew his fingers and quickly lubed his aching cock. He placed Blair's legs over his shoulders and plunged into his lover's ass, feeling the change immediately like he knew he would. Blair's thrashing stopped. He felt it too. There was silence in the world around them. All they could hear was the beating of their hearts, not two distinct rhythms, but one strong, stacato beat, the two of them as one. They didn't know their own identities. They were the Duke and his little frenchman. They were Jim and Blair. They were both, all, everything. They were the universe condensed to a microscopic point. It was bliss.

The strong winds of desire urged Jim to move, and he began to thrust into Blair, feeling Blair's body's acceptance of him, its welcome. Blair gripped the muscles of Jim's arms and rose to meet his powerful thrusts. The silence was deafening now as their bodies slammed into each other in a frenzy of need. When orgasm struck them, it hit so hard both men felt as if a bolt of lightning had passed through their souls. Blair collapsed into the sweet smelling grass senseless, and Jim had to fight not to collapse on top of him. He rolled onto his side, bringing Blair with him, and they lay there together with the summer sun shining warmly on their backs.

The meadow smiled. Her lovers had returned to her. The circle was complete.