Samuel.

"Where have you been, Sammy?" James looked him up and down. "You're wet."

"Yes." For some reason a ball of anger sat in the pit of Samuel's gut. That bloody girl had just made his task harder. How was he going to look at another female with the prospect of marriage, when he'd never be able to get this woman's face out of his mind? For some reason her eyes haunted him. Green eyes had been his one saving grace when he was locked in a cold dark cell. Green eyes had got him through the horrors of the things he had done to innocent men to survive his torturous life.

"Sammy?"

"What the fuck, James! What do you want? I'm fucking wet. So what?" Samuel swept his hand over the top of his head. The last six weeks were catching up on him. He had hated every minute, but that wasn't his cousin's fault. "I'm sorry, James." He let out a sigh. "I had an incident which has left me wet and in a foul mood. I'll get over it. Let me change and we can move on."

James watched Samuel take the stairs two at a time, and then followed. He stood outside of Sam's door and listened through the opening. Omar was speaking in quiet tones. "The girl haunts you. Why?"

"Her eyes." Samuel sighed. "They are the same as those which calmed me after each killing. Each beating. Eyes that allowed me to sleep. What does it mean?"

They didn't hear James push the door opened. Instead, they heard him drag in his breath at the sight of his cousin's back. "Sammy," he whispered as he held his hand out to him.

Omar stepped between them to shield his view. "Master James."

"Sam?" James murmured.

Samuel closed his eyes and took a deep breath at the sound of his cousin's strained voice. He turned with a clean shirt in his hand and gently pushed Omar aside. It was too late to hide what was already seen. "James," Sam said.

"What has been done to you?" James stepped forward. A scar ran across Sam's chest, another curled from around his waist to his hip. Strange markings covered one shoulder, bicep and pectoral. "Samuel." All became clear to James in that one instant. This explained Samuel's reclusive lifestyle, his devotion to The House of Irvine. The hours of work with interest in breeding Arabian horses his only pastime. This explained his lack of interest in women. James had heard stories of men, slaves in North Africa, who were no longer complete men. He put his hand to his mouth and hoped this fate had not been his cousins. "Samuel," he whispered again.

What to say? Samuel had no idea. The stress on James' face only convinced him more that any woman who saw him naked would surely cringe from him. What a waste of time the past six weeks had been. He would attend this last ball, and then tell his uncles he would never marry. "I'm sorry you've seen this, James."

"This?" James cocked his head and stepped forward. "You are not a 'this'." He wrapped his arms around Samuel and gripped him tight. No words could convey the sorrow he felt, yet he knew his cousin didn't need sorrow. He needed strength and acceptance. "You are my cousin. You are His Grace the Duke of Irvine. You are not a 'this'." He pushed Samuel back so he could see his face. "What else has been done to you?"

"What hasn't been done to me is the correct question, James." Samuel didn't want to talk about any of the things he had endured. He pulled the shirt over his head to break eye contact with his cousin.

"I need to know so I can protect you."

"Protect me?" Samuel chuckled and cocked his head. "From what?"

"My father, Uncle Leo." James shrugged. "Marriage. Women. Having to produce an heir." James rushed on, all sorts of thoughts running through his head. "I could bed your future wife. Get her pregnant, but you claim the child as yours."

Samuel bit down on his lip trying to fight the sudden urge to laugh. He gave James a quizzical look. "And why would we do this?"

"Because." James waved his hand in front of his own genitals.

"Oh!" Samuel burst into laughter. "You think I've been castrated." This time he dragged James into a hug and thumped him on the back. "James. I have my balls and my cock. All is in working order. But thank you." He pushed James back and shrugged. "Beaten, tortured, starved, chained up like a dog, left to sleep in shit, piss and vomit, but not neutered."

"Sorry." James covered his face with both hands and shook his head. He looked back at Samuel. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just thought when you said what hadn't they done to you."

"You're a good friend, as well as my cousin, James. If I ever need the services you have offered, I'll let you know." Samuel cocked his head. "I don't want to talk about my past. I want it to stay there, so let's get going, or I'll miss the auction and the ball that I am so... looking forward to." He rolled his eyes, grinned and slapped James on the shoulder.

James laughed. "Yes. Your last chance to meet a wife."

Poor James.  I can't blame him for thinking as he did.  What a wonderful offer, to produce an heir for Samuel.  I'm not sure if I want to laugh or cry.  

Photo - Alexander-Skarsgard-wet-shirt-Vogue   YUM! YUM! ♥♥