Part 11: Viggo had never been so eager to arrive at breakfast the following morning. He appeared promptly at eight, his shirt pressed and his waistcoat buttoned. One may have wondered what had so swayed his mood from gray grimaces to sun whistles. His whistles would have seemed light and cheery to any that did not know him well, but to those who were familiar with his true nature, such excitement was such as he would express had he made an advantageous business venture. The man obviously had a new opportunity in sight. Well, not in sight at that moment. Where was the lovely boy? Viggo had given it much consideration the previous night. He had tried to picture what the boy may do in the manor house. He did not look like one of the stable youths that roamed in the hay with the horses, covered in dirt and dried grass. Also, what would a stable boy be doing inside the house? No, he was definitely not that. Perhaps he was not a servant at all, but the young son or nephew of the of the visiting Lords? He knew the youth was not the child of Lord and Lady Astin, and was sure that Lord Pitt had but one son. Also, the youth’s dark hair and chocolate eyes were another reason to doubt his relationship to either fair haired family. There was always the Lady Smith, yet he had been in the same social circle as her for many years, and would have probably met him if the boy were in any way acquainted with her. Viggo definitely knew without a doubt that the boy was of no relation to either Lord McKellen or Lord Lee. Lee had but one son, and McKellen had none nor wanted any. Viggo knew of no other man that disregarded propriety more than Lord Ian McKellen did. The man really cared not what others thought of him. Viggo had once heard him tell Lee that he had several brothers who could carry on the family line. He had been married once in the folly of youth, but he and his wife had been divorced. Several of his friends had then wanted nothing to do with him, and if it had not been for the continuing friendship of Lord Lee, the man would have likely become a social outcast. Viggo had snorted when he considered that perhaps that his mysterious beauty was on object of the old man’s doting. But no, if the boy was with Ian, then he would have been with the old man during the day and at mealtimes. With that, Viggo concluded that the boy was not a guest, but a mere servant after all. This made things much more simple in his mind, for one rarely had to explain an escapade with a servant, and matters involving the young offspring of Lords were often not as easily resolved if discovered. Viggo had then lain in his bed and dreamed of what he would like to do to this beauty if he were to get his hands on him. Such images of the youth on submissive knee, suckling Viggo’s rigid member deep into his deliciously warm throat; or with his fingers twined into the bedspreads, biting his lower lip as he squirmed while Viggo thrust into him, his legs wrapped wantonly around the man’s waist to pull him deeper as he moaned in pleasure. Oh, that boy would make a lovely slut, with those wide innocent eyes and rosy lips. Viggo had imagined the look of ecstasy that would spread over the youth’s face the first time he speared the boy on his cock. He was made the be fucked…to be claimed…and Viggo was just the man to claim him. Viggo took is place next to Lady Smith and nodded in greeting. Lady Smith gaze a most puzzled look to Lady Pitt, before curtly asking, “You must have had a fine night Lord Mortensen. Do tell the cause of such a cheery disposition.” “Pleasant dreams” Viggo explained. Lord Lee entered the room with Lord McKellen, both of them chuckling about nothing in particular and they took their appropriate places. Lord McKellen looked to Lee and asked, “So, what is there for today? A bask in the sun, or a brutal exhibition of manliness in form of the slaughter of innocent creatures of the forest?” “There are so few weeks left of fall, and you know how the fog of late Autumn is bad for fowl. What would you say to a hunt, Lord Mortensen?” Viggo looked up as he heard his name and shrugged. “A hunt would be a fine way to pass the day, as the skies are a bit too cloudy for sunning on the terrace.” Several servants came into the room, carrying trays containing their breakfast. Lady Smith deposited her napkin on her lap and clapped her hands in delight when she saw the food. Viggo scanned the servants to see who they were, but did not spot his mystery boy amongst them. He was a pretty red haired woman, but she was not what he wanted. He shrugged in disappointment and awaited his own meal. Lord Lee accepted his morning coffee and fresh juice and began looking around the room for someone before muttering under his breath. “Where the hell is that boy?” He turned to Ian and quietly asked, “I did remind him to bring them, didn’t I?” Ian was about to open his mouth and voice he affirmative when the door opened and a flustered young man entered quickly, composing himself as best he could when he entered. He hastily crossed over to Lord Lee with his head lowered demurely and held out a small canister to the old man. “Forgive me sir,” he said quietly in a soft, graceful voice. As Lord Lee took the pillbox and removed his morning medication, Viggo Mortensen’s mouth snaked into a grin as he recognized the youth as his beauty from the library. So, the enticing object of his desire was Lord Lee’s valet…this just got better and better. He must be fairly new, as he had not been on staff the last time Viggo visited. He would most definitely have a place for the boy when his old employer passed on. Lord Lee took the pills from the gorgeous youth and swallowed them down with some water before waving the boy off. He then caught the boy by the arm and said, “Wait, Orlando, get me some tea. I cannot abide this coffee, it is too strong for this early in the morning. Two sugars, remember.” “Yes sir,” the boy said, nodding before stepping from the table. Orlando…so that was his name. Perfect. Viggo saw the boy step away from Lord Lee’s chair and before he could stop himself called out to him, “Boy,” he said, motioning for him. “Fetch me a cup of tea as well, would you? No sugar in mine.” Orlando’s eyes widened in recognition as he looked upon Viggo’s face. The man swore he could see the youth tremble slightly, and it pleased him. The boy looked to Lord Lee for confirmation and the old man nodded, signaling the youth should do as the other Lord requested. Viggo watched the youth’s sweet ass as he walked back towards the kitchen, keeping his face amazingly composed and refraining form licking his lips wolfishly. “So, are the rest of you gentlemen up for a little hunt then?” Lee asked the others. The other Lords nodded, Lord Astin looking a little out of sorts. “I must say,” the blonde man said, his voice a little unsure. “I do not have much experience with a pistol…and I have never quite found pleasure in killing for sport…” “Oh, we forgive you, Sean, worry not. Besides, Ian has no regard for such sport either, and he could use a companion to sit with and mock my complete lack of aim.” Lord Lee assured him, smiling and taking another sip of juice. “It is really quite amusing,” Ian added, a mirthful smile spreading in his face. “Chris can’t hit worth a damn.” “Oh, go to hell, old man. I have hit a few things in my time.” They both had a good snicker which Lady Smith joined in on. Lord McKellen turned to Vigo and asked. “So my lad, do you share Chris’ disability or are you good with a rifle?” “I have been known to hit a thing or two,” Viggo said with a smirk. “And how shall you ladies pass your day then?” Lord McKellen asked them, taking a little nibble of his bacon and finding it delectably crisp, the way he liked it. Lady Astin and Lady Pitt looked at each other before Lady Pitt answered. “Last night, we were thinking that we would walk around the grounds. You have a lovely wood and field out behind the house, Lord Lee.” “Oh yes, the woods are particularly lovely this time of year. There is a small pond with several different flowers around in the garden at the bottom of the hill. I highly suggest that you inspect those areas of the grounds. My gamekeeper resides in the woods, and his huts with supplies near the rear of the woods, so if you see those, you know you are nearing the edge of my property.” He looked to Lady Smith with question. “Are you going to explore with the ladies, Maggie?” “Oh I should say not,” she said most snidely in a way that only she could do. “I shall be with you boys while you play hunter with your little guns.” She did not blink as she raised her toast and marmalade and took the daintiest nibble possible. “Why time shall we be shoving off, I want to know when to tell Miranda to be ready with my coat and mink.” Christopher and Ian exchanged looks, each muttering a time until they came to an agreement. “About…eleven o’clock. That should give us time to dress and let the valets gather the guns and shot.” “I should say so” Ian said, glancing around the table for more sausage. The door to the kitchen opened and Orlando came in, carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea. He walked to Lord Lee first and handed him his cup, which the man accepted and sniffed it appreciatively before shooing the boy on. Orlando then crossed over to Lord Viggo and extended the second china cut to the man. Viggo reached out took the cup from the youth. He let his thumb brush over the back of the beauty’s hand, and saw the slight shiver that passed through the boy’s body when he did it. Orlando immediately averted his eyes, and hurried away as soon as the man let go of him. Viggo smiled to himself as he saw that their little moment had gone on unnoticed by all around them, and sipped his tea. “There!” Christopher shouted as he caught sight of the fowl and shot, but barely clipped the wing. He cursed damnation and grumbled as he handed his gun to his servant Colin for him to reload it. The Irishman pushed in the ball and powder as he held the gun between his knees. This was normally a job for the valet, but Orlando had proved to be useless at loading the gun, so he was left to gather the fallen birds from the ground. The job was not a difficult one, as the cloudy sky made shooting difficult. He had gingerly collected the sparse corpses of the dead birds and carried them over to the car, where he had begun to bind their feet together in a bundle. He tried to not look on the bodies for too long, as they made his stomach turn. He then hurried back to his Lord to await further instruction. Lord McKellen and Lady Smith sat on a fallen log and chuckled amongst themselves about the ill luck of Lord Lee and his ‘defective’ rifle. They gossiped together like schoolgirls, and whispered about the other members of the party, having a good laugh about the slip ups of a few guests that had occurred. Lady Smith had demanded to hear the tale of the scantily clad servant Bloom that Ian had accidentally slipped out the beginning to. He knew Maggie could keep her mouth shut when she had to, so he saw no harm in sharing the tale with an old friend. Maggie found the whole story deliciously scandalous. Lord Lee grumbled as he missed another shot, and turned to see how Lord Mortensen fared. He saw the man take aim and fire, and a second later, he could see a bird falling from the sky and into the trees in the near forest. Lord Mortensen looked over at Lord Lee with a little half smile. Le scoffed and turned back to fetch his newly reloaded rifle. “The luck of the young.” he muttered. Lord Mortensen’s manservant, Davenport, was busy tying up the carcasses of his employer’s birds. He instead looked for Orlando, and saw the boy toeing the dirt, his hands in his pockets as he waited for instruction. “Bloom,” Lee called to him, catching his attention. Orlando’s head shot up and he straightened his posture, facing his employer. Lee motioned to the forest. “GO and find that bird Mortensen just shot down, would you?” “Yes sir,” Orlando said quietly, nodding as he made his way over to the trees. He was glad to get a few moments to himself. He idly wandered the trees, in no real hurry to return to the field, as he searched for the fallen bird. He wished that Sean would come to find him. They had not had as much time together as of late as he would like, but he was comforted to know that in the spring they would be wed, and be together for all time. Orlando tried to imagine what the wedding would look like, but he could not get into the mind of Christopher Lee enough to comprehend what the man was scheming. Orlando also knew that Lord Ian would most likely play a role in the preparations as well, and he smiled to think of the two old men squabbling over the choice of tablecloth for the wedding dinner. The breeze that blew against his cheek reminded him of his lover’s caress, and his face lit up at the warm memories. Sean knew every inch of Orlando’s body, and knew just where kiss him, or caress him, or breath against him to set him on fire. Orlando tried to think of how his mother would react to the arrangement. He knew that despite any objections she would have had to the type of wedding, deep down she would have been happy for him, for that was the kind of woman she was. He tried to get his mind off of his mother as it was a tender subject, and in his silent determination, he did not hear the footsteps approaching from behind. “There you are.” The voice broke him from his trance and Orlando spun around with a gasp of surprise. Behind him, Lord Mortensen was revealed holding a striking stance with his hands clasped behind him. “You startled me, sir.” Orlando said. “I did not hear you approaching.” Orlando looked behind the man and saw that they were alone. He wondered where the rest of the company was, and why the man had ventured into the woods with him. “Does Lord Lee require my assistance?” he asked, wondering why Lee would have sent a fellow Lord instead of another valet to fetch him. Lord Mortensen gave a sort of snort of laughter and stepped forward slowly, as though a wolf stalking a lamb. “Oh no…I do not think the man has hit enough to require any assistance of yours. Unless your presence enhances his aim…” the last statement was spoken in a low tone, accenting the man’s gravely voice in a rather sexual manner. Orlando trembled and did not know what to say. “Is there something that you needed, sir?” Orlando asked, trying to fight the urge to step back as the man took another step towards him. This man unnerved him and made him uncomfortable. He did not like the way the Lord looked at him with those blue grey eyes. “I just thought I would take a rest of my shooting and see how you were faring.” Mortensen said low. A twig snapped as he stepped on it, making Orlando jump slightly. The youth looked up at the man with questioning eyes. “What is the cause of your interest in my well being, sir?” he asked, realizing the question was rude, but unsure of what else to do. Lord Mortensen stopped about three paces from Orlando and looked at him, his gray eyes unblinking. “I had wondered who you were last night, after our encounter in the library. You had very much peeked my…interest.” He accented the word with another step forward and another crack of twig. The youth trembled but held his ground, trying to appear respectful and praying that his fear was not showing through. “I do not know what my Lordship would find intriguing about me, as I am but a mere servant.” “Not at all,” Mortensen said, taking the final step that brought them but a single step apart, so that he had to look down at the boy slightly to see his face. Orlando cast down his eyes, not daring to hold the gaze of the man before him. Mortensen felt his blood warm at the sight of the youth’s chest rising and falling rapidly like a scared rabbit and his lips spread into an appreciative smirk. The man reached out and gently took the lovely youth’s chin in hand, tipping it so that he could look into those chocolate pools. “A creature of your beauty always demands intrigue…and appreciation.” Orlando’s breath came quickly as he felt the man draw his face forward. He finally stepped back, shaking his face from the man’s hold and trying to gin some distance. Mortensen looked at him intently, keeping his gaze strong as he asked, “What is wrong?” “This is not proper, sir,” Orlando said, his voice quiet and his posture tense. “I must get back to Lord Lee…” Mortensen caught him by the arm firmly as he tried to pass. “What is the hurry, Christopher does not need you now. Do you not appreciate the attentions I bestow on you?” The man pulled Orlando’s body up against his own, and the boy gasped when he felt the man’s growing erection brush against his pelvis. He flushed much to Viggo’s delight and tried to pull away. “My Lord!” he gasped. “This is not proper!” “Desire is natural, sweet Orlando.” the man pushed the slight body up against a tree, holding his wrists on either side oh his head. “Never before have I seen someone of your beauty, boy. Does it not please you that the sight of you boils the blood of a Lord?” The man leaned down to kiss him, and Orlando turned his face away. “Please, my Lord, this can not be!” Orlando struggled to push the man off of him. Mortensen looked down at him, slight irritation in his eyes as he spoke to the youth. “Believe me, boy, your employer would find no wrong in you enjoying the pleasure of another man claiming you, I know him well.” “It is not that, my Lordship,” Orlando said, his hands still planted against the man’s chest, ready to push him away again. He was about to say that he was already spoken for, but a shout from the edge of the forest startled them both, and Viggo let go of Orlando when he heard Christopher Lee shouting for the boy. He gave Orlando a last wink before whispering the promise that they would speak again, before stepping away. TBC… please review!!!!!!