For the Love of Luke Read online

  “Hey, hey,” said Luke. He walked over to Rupert and hugged him tight. “Mmm, you smell good.” He kissed Rupert. “Don’t worry about it. As for your mother, she and I have been doing some real good talking.”

  Luke released Rupert. He stood in front of him and put his hands on his hips. “Now it’s your turn to talk to your mother. No arguments.”

  Rupert visibly twitched. Luke looked down at Rupert’s growing erection and back to Rupert’s crooked smile. “Looks like I need to be strict with you more often.” He leaned against the back of the couch, folded his arms, and shook his head. “But I’m afraid that will have to wait until later. There’s no time like the present for talking.”

  “What on earth have you two been cooking up?” asked Rupert.

  “You’ll find out. But don’t worry. It’s all good. Now go get some clothes on. I’ll come up to the house in a while.”

  Rupert kissed Luke and disappeared up to the bedroom. Ten minutes later he returned in a pair of tan chinos, a slightly crumpled white shirt, and a pair of loafers.

  “Well, that could do with ironing,” said Luke. He straightened Rupert’s collar and tried to smooth out the worst of the creases in the shirt. “Maybe Cynthia will do it for you.”

  “Cynthia?” asked Rupert. “My, my. You are getting on well with Mother. You’ve got me worried now.”

  He reached for his phone from the mantelpiece.

  “Could you leave that?” asked Luke. “I don’t know this album you’re playing, and I really like it.”

  “You’ve never heard Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours?” asked Rupert. “You’re kidding me, right? This is only the best British rock band of all time.”

  Luke shrugged. “Put it down to amnesia. Or maybe it never got to America.”

  Rupert laughed. “Oh, it got there all right.”

  He hugged Luke. The two men kissed and held each other’s heads in a fond embrace.

  “Oh, I’m going to enjoy introducing you to so much good stuff,” said Rupert. He walked to the cottage door. “I guess this amnesia thing has its benefits after all.” And he slammed the door behind him.

  Luke took the phone, sat on the couch, and looked at the screen. It was playing Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain.” He was still nervous the screen might trigger another attack. But he took a deep, calming breath and flicked through the names of the other tracks listed on the album.

  The music was cut short when the phone began to ring and vibrate in Luke’s hand. He looked at the screen and saw the name Christian. As he tried to decide what to do, he let the phone ring. On the fourth ring, he pushed the Answer button.

  “Hi,” said Luke. “Rupert’s not here, but—”

  “Hello, Luke,” said the voice in his ear. “You need to listen to me very carefully. I’m going to tell you what you must do. And you will do everything I say.”

  Chapter 25

  THE EVENING sun shone through the tall beech trees ranged along the side of the footpath, and they cast long shadows. Rupert walked up the path toward the side entrance to Pendley House. He stopped to watch sheep in a distant field settle down for the night. A lone pheasant about fifty yards distant swooped across in front of him and hid itself in the cover afforded by the ancient hawthorn hedge bordering the field.

  Rupert tried to anticipate what his mother could possibly have to say to him. Perhaps she was won over by Luke’s charm and gentle manner. If so, Luke had worked remarkably quickly. Rupert thought back to his visit the weekend before. His mother had been her usual, critical self. Rupert had been particularly tired after a grueling series of night shifts in the newsroom. But his mother had dismissed it as being the result of his “usual gallivanting around the sordid fleshpots of Soho.” He had spent much of the weekend in his bedroom, partly sleeping, partly avoiding his parents.

  Rupert resumed his walk and arrived at the side door to Pendley House. “Evening, Mother,” he called as he entered the large scullery off the main kitchen. “I’ve come to give you a hand with supper.”

  Lady Cynthia Pendley-Evans peered around the open kitchen door into the scullery. She had a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. They were attached to a chain around her neck, and she wore a large black-and-white striped apron.

  “No you haven’t,” she said. “You’re here because Luke told you we should have a little talk.”

  She turned from the doorway and stood with her back to him at the large wooden table in the middle of the kitchen. “Although, now you’re here,” she said, without turning around, “you can scrub some potatoes for me. I’m making a potato salad to go with the gammon.”

  Rupert entered the kitchen and crossed to the stove. Steam rose from a large pan containing a huge piece of gammon, and the rich aroma of spices filled the kitchen.

  “Where’s Jeanette?” asked Rupert.

  “I’ve given her a few days off,” replied his mother. “Her sister’s arrived from New York, and they need to spend some time together.”

  She turned and looked over her glasses at Rupert. “And don’t look at me like that, darling. I can cook, you know. It’s just because you and your father were always so critical of my cooking that I preferred to leave it to Jeanette. The potatoes are in the cupboard over there.”

  Rupert could not remember the last time he had seen his mother cook. It was a pleasant surprise to see her in the kitchen. But he resented the guilt she had directed at him. He could not recall being critical of her cooking in the past. But then it must have been a long time ago. He unhooked a large pot from above the stove and carried it to the sink to fill with water.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense,” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Oh, darling, you are funny,” said his mother. “I want to make sure you’re going to carry on seeing Luke, of course.”

  Rupert set the pan of water on the stove with a clatter and lit the gas. He turned and leaned against the worktop with his arms folded. “I have no idea. Does it bother you?”

  Lady Pendley-Evans put down the large knife she was using to slice tomatoes and looked at him over her glasses.

  “Stop being so defensive, darling,” she said. “I asked a perfectly simple question. He’s a charming young man. Your father and I would be very happy to see you two together—”

  “Father would?” asked Rupert. “I can’t believe that for a second.”

  “And why the devil not?” said a voice from the hallway. Rupert’s father appeared at the kitchen door, a bottle of gin in his hand.

  “Ready for a snifter, old girl?” he asked Lady Pendley-Evans. He looked across to Rupert. “What are you drinking, my boy? Gin and it, or are you going straight to wine?”

  “I’ll have a gin and tonic, thank you, Father,” replied Rupert. “Can I help with them?”

  “No, no,” replied Lord Pendley-Evans. “You stay with your mother. And tell her why you think I’m such an old fart.”

  “I didn’t say that,” protested Rupert.

  “No, darling,” said his mother. “But we know that’s what you think of the pair of us.”

  “Well,” said Rupert, “I have some reason to.” He pulled a bag of small earth-encrusted potatoes from the cupboard and tipped them into the sink. He began scrubbing fiercely with a brush to remove the soil. “You’ve made it very clear for years that neither of you approve of me being gay.”

  “Don’t take it out on the potatoes,” said his mother. “They’ll have no skins left if you carry on like that.” She picked up her knife and resumed slicing the tomatoes. “And you’re being grossly unfair. Of course, we were rather shocked when you sprang it on us. But that’s fourteen years ago. Please bless us with a little intelligence to have thought about it since then.”

  Rupert set down his scrubbing brush and turned to look at his mother. “Then why haven’t you said anything before?”

  “The subject never arose,” replied Lady Pendley-Evans. “Whenever I’ve asked you about your life in London, y
ou’ve told me very little. I learn more from the Daily Mail about your night life than I do from you.”

  Rupert laughed. “No wonder you don’t approve of me, if you believe what you read in that rag.”

  “Darling,” said his mother, “it’s not that I don’t approve of you—”

  “Well, maybe a little,” interrupted his father. He entered the kitchen and set down a tray of drinks on the table.

  “Don’t interrupt, Clarence dear,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. “It’s not helpful.” She turned back to Rupert. “I’m worried about you, Rupert darling. You go to all those dangerous places with your work. We see you on the television in Yemen or Iraq or somewhere equally terrifying. The next moment we read about you in the newspapers, flitting from one nightclub to another. Then once in a blue moon you come back here and spend the whole time being grumpy.”

  She took the drink her husband offered her, and tasted it. “Heaven.”

  Lady Pendley-Evans took off her glasses and looked at Rupert. “I just want to know when you’re going to settle down and be happy.”

  “And we’d like to think,” added his father, “that this young chap might be the one to do it.”

  Rupert could scarcely believe his ears. He stared at Lord Pendley-Evans with his mouth open.

  “And don’t look at your father like that,” remonstrated his mother. “You stopped doing your ghastly goldfish impersonations when you were seven, thank God.”

  Rupert accepted the tall glass his father handed him and drank from it. He was grateful Lord Pendley-Evans had been generous with the gin.

  “When did you change your mind about me being gay?” asked Rupert. “Because I know damn well you hated ‘having a poofter for a son,’ as you so charmingly put it.”

  “Yes, well,” said his father. He coughed loudly. “I suppose I’ve had a few years to think about everything—”

  “It helped a lot when Roger told you he had a boyfriend,” added Lady Pendley-Evans.

  “Roger?” said Rupert with incredulity. “Your school friend who was in the Guards? You never told me.”

  “Well, you never asked.”

  “Why on earth would I ask you if Roger was gay? Why would it ever cross my mind?”

  “I thought maybe you chaps had a sixth sense about these things,” said his father. “Because I certainly didn’t. Mind you, he seems very settled with Jeremy. So it’s all for the best.”

  Rupert considered responding to his father’s assumption about his gaydar but decided it was better not to react.

  “And their wedding this spring was absolutely heavenly,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. “All those beautiful young men in uniform. I simply swooned.”

  Rupert turned to his mother. “All right. How do you explain me away at All Saints these days? Are you still telling them I’m waiting for the right girl to come along?”

  “Oh, don’t be so silly.” Lady Pendley-Evans put her glasses back on and resumed preparing the salad. “Reverend Whittaker left years ago. The Reverend Kenneth might be a little progressive for your father’s tastes, but I find him charming. And it’s so convenient that his partner is the organist and choirmaster.”

  Rupert nearly dropped his glass. “The vicar of All Saints is gay?”

  “I’m sure I’ve told you,” said his mother. But Rupert was certain she had not. “He’s so charming. And he’s marvelous with the flower committee. Anyway. You haven’t answered my question. Is Luke the one?”

  Rupert was speechless. Partly because of everything he had just learned from his parents. But mainly because he was unsure of the answer to his mother’s question.

  “I really don’t know, Mother,” he said at last. “We’ve known each other for such a short time—”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it,” interrupted his father. “I knew with your mother the moment I laid eyes on her. As soon as I asked her to dance, she was the girl for me.”

  “And I knew I wasn’t going to get any better than your father,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. “He was quite a catch that season. Luke seems to be a lovely young man. And he’s very smitten with you. Are you smitten with him?”

  Rupert set down his glass and leaned back against the sink. He thought back over the last few days. He had never felt so happy in his life.

  “I suppose I am,” he said. “But Luke’s got a lot of problems in his life.”

  Lady Pendley-Evans crossed the kitchen to where Rupert stood. She put her arms around his waist and reached up to kiss him on his cheek. “My darling boy. We all have heaps of problems. Life’s like that. But they’re so much easier to face when you’re with someone who loves you. I think he could be very good for you.”

  “Hey, hey,” said Rupert. But he could not help smiling. “Aren’t you rushing ahead just a bit? Let me take things at my pace. It’s been a very eventful week.”

  “Of course, darling.” She patted his chest and looked up at him. Her face wore the same expression he remembered when she came into the nursery to say good night when he was a boy. “And when the time comes, Reverend Kenneth will be very happy to offer his blessing on you both.”

  “Mother,” said Rupert. “Just….” He put his arms around her waist and hugged her. “Hold your horses, eh?” Rupert dropped his arms and wiped his eyes. “But thank you.”

  He turned to his father. “Both of you. I wasn’t expecting to hear any of this tonight. And as for the vicar of All Saints—”

  He was interrupted by a loud thumping on the front door.

  “Who the devil’s that?” asked Lord Pendley-Evans. He put down his drink as the banging on the front door sounded again. “All right, all right, I’m coming as fast as I can.” He stomped off to the hallway, followed by Rupert.

  Standing on the doorstep was Christian. He looked past Lord Pendley-Evans to Rupert. “Thank God I’ve found you. Where’s Luke?”

  “What on earth are you doing here?” asked Rupert. “I brought Luke here to get him away from London. Just like you said. What’s happened?”

  “It’s Pa,” replied Christian. “I think he’s tracked him down. He wants to kill him.”

  Chapter 26

  RUPERT RAN down the footpath to the cottage. Christian followed close behind, and Lord Pendley-Evans brought up the rear at a slower pace. The sun had almost set, and it was getting dark. The way back seemed more threatening and forbidding than Rupert’s relaxed walk less than an hour earlier.

  He arrived at the door of the cottage and threw it open. “Luke!” he called. “Where are you?”

  There was no answer. Rupert checked the bathroom, then ran up the stairs to the bedroom. There was no sign of Luke. Rupert hurried back down to the sitting room.

  “He’s gone, Christian,” said Rupert. “Are you sure it’s your father? Do you think he’s taken him?”

  Before Christian could reply, Lord Pendley-Evans arrived, breathless and panting heavily. “Let’s go back to the house and get the dogs,” he wheezed. “They’ll track him down. Have you got a piece of Luke’s clothing? It will give them his scent.”

  Rupert picked up a T-shirt Luke had draped over the back of one of the chairs. The three men ran from the cottage and headed back to the house. Halfway up the footpath, they met Lady Pendley-Evans. A man was at her side, and he held the leads of two hounds that trotted in front of them.

  “I managed to find Frank,” said Lady Pendley-Evans. “And Jeanette’s back at the house calling the police.” She pointed to the dogs with her walking stick. “We thought you might need the boys.”

  “That’s my girl,” wheezed Lord Pendley-Evans. “Always thinking two steps ahead.”

  Rupert bent down. The hounds ran up to him and wagged their tails. He held Luke’s T-shirt before them. The two dogs sniffed it and whimpered as they did. Lady Pendley-Evans knelt down alongside the animals and whispered in their ears.

  “Jasper! Jack! My beautiful boys,” she said. “Go find!”

  The dogs lowered their noses and sniffed the ground
. They circled the area for several minutes before they shot off in the direction of the cottage. The humans followed behind. At the cottage, the dogs sniffed around the front porch and pawed at the front door. Lady Pendley-Evans’s commanding voice cut through the evening air.

  “Jasper! Jack! To ground, boys! Hunt!”

  The dogs lowered their noses once more and explored the outside of the cottage. The hound with the red collar was the first to move. He found a fresh scent and followed his nose along the path to the back of the cottage.

  “Good boy, Jack!” called Lady Pendley-Evans. “Go on, Jasper. Follow!”

  Jasper picked up the scent and rapidly caught up with Jack. The two dogs trotted side by side along the path, their noses close to the ground all the way.

  “They’re heading for the barn,” said Rupert. “That’s got to be where they’re going.”

  He and Christian followed the dogs down the path. After fifty yards, the path opened out into a farmyard in front of a large metal barn. The heavy main doors were closed, but light streamed from a low open doorway to the right. Rupert saw the shape of a man silhouetted in the entrance. The dogs began to bark excitedly. The man turned at the sound and immediately ran off.

  “Oh dear Lord,” said Christian to Rupert. “It’s Pa.”

  “You go after him,” said Rupert. He turned to Frank. “And you go with him. I’m going to check the barn.”

  Frank bent down and released the dogs from their leashes. They ran off into the darkness, barking. Frank and Christian followed behind. Rupert strode up to the doorway and stood on the threshold. At the far end of the barn stood Luke with a long wooden ladder.

  “Luke,” called Rupert. “Thank God. Are you all right?”

  But Luke said nothing. He carried the ladder toward the middle of the barn and leaned it against a low beam. It was as if he had not heard Rupert. Luke had a coil of rope slung across his shoulder. He set his foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, checked it was steady, and began to climb.