Part 18:

Orlando sat on the windowsill of his hospital room as he gazed out to the 
cobblestone streets below. His knees were drawn up to his chest as he watched 
the people pass by below, going on with their everyday lives. 

That was what Orlando was going to have to do soon. He had one day left in the 
hospital before he was going to be discharged. Dr. Cain had informed him 
personally the other day, only the words he had said were, “What time will Lord
Mortensen be collecting you for your discharge tomorrow?”

The young man had informed him that Lord Mortensen would not be collecting him,
and that he would be on his own. Dr. Cain had frowned at first, but then curtly
nodded and told him that Nurse Bates would escort him out after giving him one 
last examination the following day.

Colin still checked on him every day and sat with him while he ate, forcing the
younger man to finish the food he otherwise would have left untouched. 

Lord Mortensen had visited him everyday since the episode with Doctor Cain and 
Colin. He brought Orlando a rose the previous time, and had not been impressed 
with the youth’s reaction. Orlando had managed a weak smile and accepted. He had
held the stem with slightly trembling fingers before setting it down on the 
bedside table. Viggo had been a little taken aback that the boy had not even 
tried to smell the flower’s fragrance before depositing it, but he had said 
nothing.

Orlando did not know why the Lord Mortensen visited him so frequently, or why he
had paid his hospital fees. He knew the man had desired him when he worked for
Lord Lee, but he had never expected it to become anything for the man. Orlando 
wondered if the Lord would ask him to come and work for him, and perhaps that is
why he was acting thus. 

Really though, Orlando wanted to be left alone. He did not want the man’s 
flowers, he did not need the man to read to him poems he did not understand. He
had needed the man’s money, but he had most definitely had not asked or it. 
Orlando would be sure to ask Nurse Bates for the total sum, so that in time he
could repay the man.

Colin had allowed Mortensen his little visitations, but he always returned with
something he needed Orlando to do, such as eat or bath. Mortensen had offered to
make sure Orlando ate, and Colin had glared at him before allowing it, however 
he had not been satisfied with the man’s job and told him so as he coaxed 
Orlando to eat more. Mortensen had offered to aid Orlando in his bath once, but
Colin had replied in his most professional voice that such an offer did not seem
appropriate to him. 

As Orlando sat gazing out the window, he heard the door open, and footsteps 
enter his room. He could smell some kind of food and realized it must be Colin.
He turned to see the dark haired Irishman carrying a tray of lunch for him. 
Orlando saw bread and cheese as well as some kind of meat with gravy.

“This is from the staff’s lunch” Colin said with a wink. “Nurse Bates got it for
you. She said you are still far too skinny.”

Orlando smiled slightly. The goodly nurse fussed over him more than his own 
mother had. “I am not very hungry today,” he said softly. “You go ahead and eat
it.”

Colin chuckled and continued to walk over to Orlando, taking the chair from 
beside the bed and brining it along with him over to where the younger man sat.
“Do not think you can get out of it so easily. I have already eaten, so you are
free to have all of this I have brought for you.” Colin sat down on the chair 
and offered the tray to Orlando. He extended his hand a little farther when the
youth did not first accept, showing the matter was not open for discussion. 
Orlando offered him a warn smile which quickened Colin’s heart as he accepted 
the offered food.

The young man nibbled his food with hidden disinterest. “The day is a dark one,”
he said quietly. “I do so miss the sun.”

Colin nodded. “Aye, it is indeed clouded today. You shall again see the sun 
though, Orlando.” 

Chocolate eyes flashed to him and Colin thought they looked glassy with the 
promise of tears. Orlando did not cry though, and instead looked back out the 
window again. “I do not hope to feel its warmth again,” he said solemnly. Colin
stood and took a seat on the windowsill beside the dark haired youth and gently
stroked the back of his neck. “Do not do this to yourself, Orlando. You could 
love again…you could let yourself love again.”

“To what purpose.” Orlando asked, his voice quivering. “I see him every night, 
Colin. I see him every time I close my eyes, and sometimes when I open them. How
could I love another when the love of my life is always with me…when his memory
lingers so? Please tell me, Colin.”

There was nothing the Irishman could say, so he kept silent. Orlando nodded 
slightly at the man’s acquiescence. He looked out the window again, leaving the
tray to rest upon his thighs, forgotten. Orlando looked back at the other man 
and saw the look of pain in his dark eyes. He knew that Colin cared for him, 
that much was very obvious. He knew that the man only wanted to help him and 
understood how helpless his friend must feel. Orlando leaned forward after 
setting the tray aside and rested his forehead against the other man’s, taking 
the Irishman’s lightly bearded face in his hands. “I thank you for everything 
you have done for me, my friend. You are a good man with only good intentions,
and I am blessed for the care.” Orlando softly kissed Colin’s closed eyes to
sooth his turmoil. “Thank you…thank you…” Orlando whispered to him. “You have 
helped to nurse me from death…but you cannot heal my heart as you healed my 
body.”

“I could try,” Colin assured him. “I would do anything so you could be happy.
I…” The man looked up and saw question in the deep pools of Orlando’s eyes. “I
have lived a servants life. I have seen the cold marriages of the Lords we 
serve, and I have seen the simple tumbles that the servants enjoyed. Nothing 
ever seemed right to me…nothing seemed genuine. I had heard that young Elijah 
and Dom were together, but I had never seen it.”

Orlando wondered where Colin was going with this, and remained quite so he could
hear the man’s explanation.

“I saw the two of you…you were never very careful and I would see you in his 
arms…kissing, touching…it all seemed to pure and perfect. I knew it was wrong 
for me to look at you in your private moments, but I could not take my eyes 
away. Sean loved you so much…it was so obvious in his eyes when he would look at
you…or when he would kiss you. It let me know that love did in fact exist, and
that in these times of title and rank and petty disagreements that we dealt with
every day we could still find it. I had never been so happy as when I saw the 
two of you together or listened to you speak of each other. You had such a light
in you Orlando and now…” Colin’s breath caught in his throat and he finally 
willed himself to look at Orlando. 

Crystal tears ran down the youth’s face as he listened to Colin and understood.

“That light is gone, Orlando. That which gave me so much hope in my time of 
need.”

Orlando’s eyes closed, the salty drops spilling free from the dropped lids.

“I would do anything to see that light again, Orlando.” Colin said. “I am 
loosing faith…”

Orlando gently kissed Colin’s forehead and let his lips rest against the man’s
skin as tears rolled down his face. He then kissed Colin upon the cheek and 
pressed their faces together. Colin could feel the wetness of Orlando’s face on
his skin, and the soft breath that caressed past his ear. “Please…” Orlando 
entreated him. “Please do not loose faith on account of me…please…I have had my
love…do not give up yours.”

Orlando kissed Colin’s cheek again, letting his lips linger for a moment before
rising, and making his way towards the commons bathroom of the ward.

Colin sat alone on the windowsill. He listened as Orlando left the room, and 
could hear a choked sob that he knew the youth was trying to hold back until he
was alone. Colin looked outside and up into the clouded sky. He knew deep down 
that the clouds would eventually break, but did Orlando?



Later that day, Lord Mortensen visited as Orlando had expected he would, but 
this time, the man came in a different manner than he had before. 

The light haired Lord entered with high spirits, carrying in one hand his 
elegant walking cane and in the other an extravagant bouquet of white roses. He
handed them to Orlando with some ceremony, extending the glorious roses to 
Orlando with both hands and waiting for the youth to accept them.

Orlando’s eyes raised in question as he accepted the arrangement in both of his
arms, cradling the flowers as though they were an infant. “I thank you but…what
is the meaning of this?”

Lord Mortensen seemed quite content with himself as he answered, setting his 
walking cane next to the bed carefully as he did. “I saw them in a shop and knew
they had to be yours. I remembered how little you were moved by red roses, and I
thought I would try white instead…white to match your purity…”

Orlando inhaled the scent of the lovely flowers delicately before he set down 
the flowers on the bed next to him. “Thank you my Lord.”

Mortensen smirked in triumph. “I have heard that you are due to leave tomorrow.
What do you intend to do when you are released from the hospital?”

Orlando realized that he really had no idea what he would do, but he really did
not care. So he merely shrugged his shoulders and delicately fingered the soft 
white petals of the flowers beside him. “I do not know. I have no family here, I
lived at on Lord Lee’s estate…but that it gone.” Orlando felt a pain in his 
chest at the thought of kind old Lee, how he desperately hoped the gentle man 
had not died in the fire…

“I suppose I shall work in a factory if I can find work there. Colin said he was
going to work in the mine, and that we could live together so we could afford a
room in the city.”

“Well, that sounds very glamorous. Working all day in a factory while your lover
picks at rocks in a mine.” 

Orlando’s head whipped up at the bitter tone in the man’s voice. “Lover?…Colin 
is not my lover…he is my friend…my dearest friend.”

A fresh smile spread across Lord Mortensen’s face at this. “Forgive me, Orlando,
forgive my tone…it was most brash.” He saw the youth nod his head with lowered 
eyes and continued carefully. “It is only…I hate to think of you slaving away in
some god forsaken factory earning barely enough to sustain yourself. It breaks 
my heart to think of one such as yourself going blind from doing careful work, 
or catching one of those sicknesses that spreads though those infested places.”
The blue eyed aristocrat cupped Orlando’s chin and raised his face to look at 
him. “So very beautiful…such a place is not for you.”

“It is honest work, sir, and I shall do what I must t get by.” Orlando met the
man’s eyes with his own, trying to show the man he was not afraid.

Viggo chuckled. “Honest…I suppose you could call it that. You are so young, and
have lived a life of servitude. It is a noble job to serve others, but you have
not yet tasted the trials of brute labor. I would hate to think what such a 
thing would do to you…”

“I shall have to try…” Orlando said quietly. “Perhaps there is a family that has
need of a servant in the city…”

Lord Mortensen carefully sat himself upon the hospital bed beside Orlando. The 
young man kept his eyes downcast, there were things he wanted to say but he just
did not care enough to say them. It was true, he knew nothing of labor work and
he was sure it would be hard work, but he did not care of that either. Let his 
life be hard or easy, long or short it mattered not to him.

Lord Mortensen studied Orlando carefully for a few moments, and he knew that now
would be as good a time as any to speak. “Look at me, Orlando,” he said, his 
voice low and careful as he spoke. His tone was much the same as it had been 
when he had asked Orlando to bring him coffee at Lord Lee’s breakfast table. 

Orlando raised his chocolate eyes to look into the man’s icy blue ones. Lord 
Mortensen once again curled a finger around Orlando’s chin, stroking the soft
skin of the youth’s jaw. “Sweet Orlando…” he said, his voice low and raspy as he
spoke. “Gentle boy…come away with me, and let me give you the life you deserve.”

Orlando gasped, taken aback. “My Lord…what are you asking of me?”

Lord Viggo moved closer to Orlando and took the youth’s smaller hand in his own,
raising it to his lips and kissing it. “I am asking for your hand in marriage, 
to lead the life you were meant to lead with me on my estates. You would no 
longer have to serve anyone, and I would give you maids to wait upon you so that
you never had to worry for a thing ever again. I would have none but you by my 
side, Orlando. I have chosen you from all the others, my darling…all you have to
do is say the word and I shall whisk you away from this dreadful place.”

Orlando could not speak. 

He could not believe that Lord Mortensen was asking him for his hand. It was so
soon…so unexpected. “My Lord, I do not know what to say…”

“You need not say anything but yes, Orlando,” Lord Mortensen said, reaching his
hand behind the youth’s head and pulling him closer to claim his lips in a kiss.

Orlando reached up a hand and pressed his fingertips to the other man’s lips to
stop him. “My Lord,” he said in a shaky voice as Lord Mortensen kissed the tips
of his fingers, holding the young man’s hand in place with his larger one. “This
is most unexpected. I have but just recovered, and my fiancé has only just 
died…”

“Sweet boy, it has been many weeks since the terrible fire. I am sure 
your…husband to be…would not have wanted to see you rot in some factory. He 
would have wanted to see you clothed in finery and treated like a prince.” 
Mortensen tried not to smile at the genius of his words. He had been worried at
Orlando’s initial reaction, but he knew with the right coaxing of the right 
people, the beauty would be his.

Orlando knew his answer, but he had a feeling that Lord Mortensen would not take
no for an answer. “I do not think I am ready to be with another so soon after 
the death of my beloved,” he managed to say, his voice unsteady as he spoke. He
looked again to the flowers and ran his fingers over a smooth stem and silken 
petal. “I thank you for your more than generous offer and the lovely flowers, my
lord, but I fear I am most tired and in need of rest…”

Lord Mortensen could tell that he was being asked to leave and wanted to laugh 
aloud at the youth’s spirit. He was far from done, but he would allow Orlando to
win this little battle. He stood slowly, taking his own time as he did, and 
moving the flowers to rest upon the bedside table so the young man could have a
clear view of them. He gestured to the bed and waited for Orlando to crawl 
between the sheets. 

“Think on my offer tonight, young one,” Lord Mortensen said evenly. “Your former
love is dead, as hard as it may be and he is not coming back. You however are 
alive, and will be for some time. Why deprive yourself of the pleasures of life.
One such as you was not meant for the shadows.”

Lord Mortensen saw how Orlando would not look at him, and continued, making one
last maneuver before saying good night. “It is a pity to hear what happened to 
the other servants of Lord Lee’s household. The one woman badly burned…I doubt 
she will be able to do any suitable work for some time. The other kitchen woman,
with the dark hair…I heard she works as a seamstress every day. Imagine what 
such chores must do to her eyes…such a pity. And that other kitchen boy…did his
lover not parish in the fire as well? I do so wish there was some way I could 
ease their suffering.” Viggo kept his eyes on Orlando and could tell he had most
definitely caught the youth’s attentions with his words. 

“I would offer them a place in my household, but I am overstaffed as it is. If I
had a spouse, it would be another matter…but I must respect your wishes, and as
you have chosen your ghost, I must let you go. I shall come tomorrow for you, 
whether it is to take you home with me or to your small room in the city.”

Orlando said nothing, but many emotions played across his face as he lay, facing
the wall in the direction of the door.

“Until tomorrow, my darling.” Lord Mortensen said, leaving the room.

Orlando waited until he could not longer hear the man’s footsteps before sitting
up in bed, breathing heavily. He waited a few more moments before no longer
being able to bear it and he ran from the room in search of Nurse Bates.



Viggo smiled to himself as he walked down the stairs of the hospital. He had 
spoken to the doctor, knowing that the pesky Nurse Bates had been watching them
and most likely listening. He spoke to Cain of the boy’s refusal, and the doctor
offered his sympathies, commenting on how foolish the youth were, and how the 
boy was sure to regret his decision later in life. Mortensen had been delighted
to see the portly nurse hurrying down the hall in the direction of Orlando’s
ward.

Mortensen left the filthy hospital with a merry swing in his step as he
approached his carriage, his manservant Davenport at the reins and his valet 
Grant quickly opened the door to let his employer inside. Grant then entered 
behind the man and closed the door. Mortensen slapped the side of the carriage 
to let Davenport know he was ready, and the man started the horses. 

As the carriage pulled away, Mortensen leaned back in his seat, a pleased look 
upon his face. 

Grant smirked when he saw his master’s mirth. “I take it everything went well, 
sir?” he asked slyly.

Mortensen nodded. “I am feeling quite optimistic, Richard.” He looked at the 
grinning rake thin man before him and smiled at his own little secret thoughts.
“Have you done as I requested, Grant?”

The man nodded quickly. “I have indeed sir. I have spoken around town to people
in passing, and it seems that there is not even so much as gossip being passed
around that the fire wasn’t an accident. All they can talk about is that old 
fool Lee, and that kitchen boy that was killed.”

“What of the other servants…did you speak to any of them?”

“I followed that Miss Tyler. I helped her carry wood to her apartment and asked
her a few questions. She did not suspect a thing, told me what a tragedy it all
was. She mentioned that little slut, Orlando…she said…”

Grant stopped at the glare he was receiving from Mortensen.

“That boy you speak of I intend to wed, and I will not hear you speak so lowly 
of something I value as I value him.” 

“Forgive me my Lord...I meant you no insult.” Grant quickly said, raising his 
hands to entreat his employer. Richard E. Grant had a bit of an alliance with
the powerful man, but feared him just as much as he revered him. He knew the 
truth of the fire at Lee Manor and the extent of Mortensen’s wrath. 

Viggo relaxed and leaned back in his seat, a new smile spreading across his 
lips. “Never mind, Grant. No point in me getting angry I suppose.”

Grant nodded in agreement and sat back again. 

Both men were silent during the ride from then on. Grant did not pay much mind 
to the scenery as they passed, but when he looked up, he realized that they were
in an area he did not recognize. “Where the devil is Davenport going?” he asked
himself.

Mortensen startled the other man when he pounded against the back wall of the 
carriage. Davenport pulled in the reins and stopped the horses. Grant looked to
Mortensen in question. “Sir, why are we stopping?”

Mortensen leaned forward. “Tell me Grant, besides you, who knows that I had that
servant killed?”

“No one sir!” Grant assured him. “I have not told a soul.” Grant was known as a
gossip in the lower level of the house, and he had several times before said 
things that would have best been kept with discretion.

Mortensen nodded and signaled the man to lean closer, as though he were weary of
listening ears outside. Grant leaned in closer as his employer continued. “And
tell me, is there anyone to your knowledge that has any suspicions that I was 
involved in the death of Lord Lee or the burning of his house?”

Grant shook his head emphatically. “Absolutely no one my Lord, your secret is 
safe with me.”

Lord Viggo leaned back slightly, a little laugh escaped his lips as he scratched
his lightly bearded chin with one hand. “Well, you see…” he said, shaking a 
finger slightly as though sharing an inside joke with the other man. “It is 
still not completely safe…”

Grant did not even see the knife which Mortensen pulled from beneath the cushion
of his seat, he did but feel the cold blade slide between his ribs and a searing
pain slice through his body. The man let out a strangled cry before he slumped
forward.

Mortensen smirked as he pushed the other man off of his blade, before opening 
the carriage door and pushing him out. “Now it is,” he said as he watched 
Davenport drag the body off the road and let in drop in the underbrush of a 
ditch.

Davenport nodded to his Lord as he passed him and returned to his place at the 
front of the carriage and spurred the horses to movement. 

Davenport did not know why Lord Lee killed his valet…nor did he care. All he 
cared was that he earn his salary at the end of the month, and keep to himself. 

It was a quality that Viggo admired in a servant.




Orlando ran through the halls, searching desperately for his nurse. His hospital
gown ride high on his thighs as he hurried, his bare feel padding on the floor.
He was so busy looking, that he did not see the man coming around the corner and
slammed bodily into him. 

Mr. Jeremy looked down at the pretty little thing that had run into him. The boy
had fallen back onto the floor, and the older man had a tantalizing view of the
creamy flesh of the youth’s sex and the dark curls surrounding it. The man 
licked his lips and reached down, taking the young man he recognized as Orlando
by the arm lifting him none too gently to his feel. Orlando whimpered a the 
man’s tight grip on his arm and quickly voiced an apology for his clumsiness.

The fat man before him said nothing about the apology, but instead kept his hand
on Orlando’s arm, looking up and down his body. “I was to take you to the 
asylum, pretty.” he said. “I had greatly looked forward to it…”

Orlando cringed inwardly, trying to pull his arm from the greasy man’s grip and
not knowing quite what to say. “Forgive me, I did not intend the disappoint 
you…” the young Brit desperately hoped the man would not take his words for 
insolence. “I am looking for nurse Bates, have you seen her?”

The man shook his head, running his hand up and down Orlando’s arm. The boy 
gasped when the man took a fist of his hospital gown in his meaty hand and began
to raise it, his fingers searching for the rounded bottom of Orlando’s ass.

Orlando’s brows furrowed and he slapped the man across the face. “Let go of me,
sir!” he cried out. Mr. Jeremy let go of him in surprise and tried to grab hold
of the boy again, but Orlando ran from him. He could hear the man chasing after
him, but he was swifter of foot. Orlando cried out as he almost ran into another
man, but stopped right before he crashed into Dr. Cain.

“Watch where you are going boy!” the white haired man shouted. He then saw the 
look of panic on Orlando’s flushed face and recognized him as the charity 
patient of Lord Mortensen’s and the noble’s possible fiancé. He then saw Mr. 
Jeremy emerge from the hall, bringing himself to a quite panting stop when he 
saw the doctor. 

Dr. Cain set a hand on Orlando’s shoulder and guided him behind him before 
ordering him to return to his room. Orlando obeyed the doctor and quickly 
hurried from the corridor. Dr. Cain set his cold gaze on Mr. Jeremy, and the 
other man could not bring himself to look the physician in the eyes.

“That was the last time, Mr. Jeremy,” the Doctor said coolly. “I have had 
enough. You will leave this hospital now and never come back, do you hear me? If
I ever see you again, I shall set the authorities upon you.”

The fat man nodded and feebly made his way past the doctor, heading for the 
entrance to the hospital.

Cain watched him leave with disgust before leaving to find Nurse Bates. 
Mortensen had spoken of a potential donation to the hospital, hinting that it 
would be in celebration of Orlando accepting his hand in marriage. If there was
anyone who could talk some sense into that silly boy, it would be his doting 
nurse.


Orlando sat on his bed, hoping that Nurse Bates or Colin would come to him. 
Orlando secretly hoped it would be nurse Bates, for he knew that if he tried to
speak to Colin of the matters plaguing his mind, he would get but one answer.

The youth breathed a sigh of relief when the sturdy nurse entered his room, 
quickly hurrying to his side and checking to make sure he was all right. “I 
heard Mr. Jeremy attempted to take his liberties with you,” she said with worry.

“He accomplished nothing, I swear,” Orlando assured her as she fussed over him.
“I wish but to forget him, there is another matter of which I must speak to you
of.”

Nurse Bates ushered him over to the bed where they both sat. “I think I have 
some idea of what you would speak of,” she admitted. “The Doctor told me of your
refusal of Lord Mortensen’s offer. He told me that his Lordship was most upset
at your decision.”

Orlando shook his head. “I just do not understand. The man barely knows me, and
yet he wants to take m hand in marriage? How could he ask such a thing of me…I
have only just lost Sean, and I know he knew of our engagement…”

“Orlando,” she said. “You are very beautiful…surely you know this about 
yourself, sweet child. Great beauties of both sexes always have been sought 
after, so it is no small wonder that Lord Mortensen fancies you.”

“But Nurse…”

“I know you have lost Sean, but as Mortensen sees it, you are now again free to
accept his advances. Men care not for lost loves…think of Mr. Jeremy, who did 
not even care for consent.”

Orlando looked down as he tried to process what the woman was saying. “Do you 
mean to say that you think I should…accept…Lord Mortensen’s offer.”

Nurse Bates hesitated before saying, “I do not think it could be the worst 
option for you, Orlando.” Orlando began to protest, saying he did not need 
Mortensen to make a life but she stopped him. “There is nothing glamorous about
factory work, Orlando…or mine work as Colin claims he will do. My sister worked
in a factory for fifteen years and it killed her. It was horrible, so horrible I
could not bear to see her for I could not bear to see how run down and withered
she had become. I did not wish that of her, and I do not wish that of you.”

“I could find servitude…” Orlando said, “I could work here, cleaning or helping
you…”

“This life has not given me the most pleasant of memories, Orlando darling.” she
said. “It is noble to want to help others, but I chose this out of necessity 
more than desire.”

“It would be better than living with a man I do not love,” Orlando said.

Nurse Bates took him by the shoulders. “Is what Lord Mortensen offers you so 
terrible, Orlando? A life of security…a life of luxury…a life that any person in
this city would take in a second, why is it so hard for you? Why are you 
punishing yourself so severely for a man who is dead? If this man loved you so 
very much Orlando, he would want you to be happy, he would want you to wed 
Mortensen.” Nurse Bates felt true to her words. She knew that when Dr. Cain had
asked her to speak to Orlando, he had not done so out of compassion for the
youth. Though it loathed her to admit it, she agreed with the man though. 
Orlando was blessed to be given the opportunity to change his rank in life…to go
from servant to master.

Nurse Bates saw tears in the young man’s eyes, and he looked as though a man who
had resigned himself to the gallows. “I have been most foolish in my thoughts.”
he said, his voice wavering. “I am quite naïve, and I thank you for your 
guidance.” The young man took a deep breath. 

If he was to sell himself though…he was to do it on his own terms. 

* * * * 

Colin carried the lunch tray quickly to Orlando’s room, knowing that he was 
late. It had taken him more time than he had expected to bathe that day, and he
was late in getting to the kitchens. 

The Irishman whistled as he walked down the hall, pleasant memories of
Mortensen’s displeased look as he spoke to Dr. Cain. So it seemed Orlando had
not given him the answer he was seeking. Colin had figured that the man was 
going to ask Orlando when he brought in the flowers, and Nurse Bates had 
confirmed his beliefs quickly after Dr. Cain had spoken to her. 

Colin could not wait to talk to Orlando and congratulate him. Colin turned the 
corner and stopped when he saw Nurse Bates standing outside Orlando’s room with
the door closed. Her lips were pressed tightly together and a look of 
apprehension showed on her face. Colin at first thought something had happened,
and quickly approached her. Bates looked at him with a solemn yet relieved look
of greeting on her face. 

“What is wrong?” Colin asked.

“Nothing,” she assured him with a shake of her head. 

Colin’s shoulders visibly relaxed and he turned to the door. “I suppose I’ll 
just give Orlando his lunch then…”

Nurse Bates stopped him with an outstretched arm and shook her head when the
Irishman made eye contact. Colin raised an eyebrow in question.

“He is with Lord Mortensen,” she said quietly.

Colin rolled his eyes, “When will that man leave poor Orlando alone? I’ll just 
put this inside and give the poor boy a break.”

Nurse Bates stopped him again. “Orlando is discussing the terms of the 
engagement with him.”

Colin froze. For a moment he could not speak…he could not move…finally he could
gather his breath to hiss, “What?!”

This time it took much more than Nurse Bates’ arm to hold the dark haired man 
back when he tried to get to the door. “Let me through Kathy” he hissed though 
clenched teeth, the rage growing in his eyes when she quietly denied him again. 

“This is his choice, Colin. You have to let him make it.”

Colin made a sort of growl as he threw himself back from the door, tossing the 
tray to the side in his irritation. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging
at the strands to try and calm himself. “What is he thinking?!” he roared, 
throwing his arms to gesture at the closed door. “He can’t be thinking if he is
going to throw his life away to that horrible bastard!”

“Stop it, Colin!” she hissed at him. “He may hear you.”

“I hope he does!” Colin said in a rage. He wanted the man to hear what he 
thought of him, but knew that the heavy doors did very well at keeping noise in
or out. The Irishman finally gave up and let himself fall back against the 
nearest wall and sink to the floor, letting the tears of frustration fall.

Nurse Bates hurried to the man and sank to the floor with him, petting his arm 
to calm him. “You must not let yourself get so upset,” she softly told him. 
“Orlando knows what he is doing…this is what he wants.”

Colin shook his head but said nothing.

“This was very hard for him to decide, Colin. I know you care for him greatly…I
sometimes wonder if you are in love with him…”

Colin looked helpless as he shook his head in confusion. “I don’t bloody know. I
just feel something so strong for him, and I want to protect him…I know this is
not a good idea…please, you must tell him not do this!”

The look from nurse Bates made him hang his head in defeat and cry tears he had
not shed in a long time. He rested his head in his hands and shook as he sobbed
in frustration and loss.

Nurse Bates put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him close. “It’s all 
right, Colin. I understand what you are feeling, but do you really want 
Mortensen to come out here and have the satisfaction of seeing you so 
distraught?” She ran her thumbs below the man’s eyes to wipe away the wetness 
there. She reached inside her pocket and withdrew her kerchief, offering it to 
the man. 

Colin accepted it with a weary smile and wiped his face before wiping his nose.
He was about to hand it back to her, but instead he pulled his hand back, and 
began to pocket the soiled kerchief. “I’ll wash it,” he promised, his voice a 
bit cracked.

The woman smiled and mirthfully snatched it back from him and placed it in her 
own pocket. “I have handled far worse things…you know that” She winked at the 
man fondly to try and raise his spirits. She was glad to see him give her a wry
smile in return and she stood, offering her hand to aid him to rise.

Colin accepted and stood, his eyes red and puffy from his tears. Nurse Bates 
fondly wiped away any remaining wetness from his face and patted his cheek. 
“There you are…now…the best thing you can do, is when Orlando walks out that 
door, you give him a hug, and you do not say a word. Let him speak first, and 
then you ask him what he needs. Do not say a word about Mortensen…this is even
harder for him than it is you, I swear to you.”

Colin nodded, and without warning, threw his arms around the sturdy woman and 
hugged her with all the strength in his body. The woman accepted the embrace and
returned it, rubbing the man’s back in a comforting manner. “Why don’t you go 
put some cold water on your eyes, hum? I’ll take care of the mess” she motioned
to the spilled food and smashed tray.

“Oh…I am so sorry…” Colin said, making to move for the mess, but the woman 
stopped him. “I’ll get it. You go get cleaned up.”

As Nurse Bates cleaned the floor, Lord Viggo was grinning in mad delight to hear
that after much deliberation, Orlando had chosen to accept his suit. The man 
moved forward to take the younger in his arms and kiss him to consummate the 
arrangement. Orlando stopped him by pressing his hands against the man’s chest 
and holding him at a small distance. “I have a few requests though that must be
met before I can fully consent,” the young man said.

“I want you to be happy, my darling,” Lord Mortensen said, pulling the young man
into his arms and rubbing his strong hands up and down the youth’s graceful back
in long strokes. He leaned down and placed his lips at the soft skin of 
Orlando’s throat, lightly tasting the warm flesh.

Orlando tried not to shudder at the man’s touch and made is demands. “First, I 
would like you to offer a place on your staff for the former servants of Lord 
Lee that currently live in the city.”

“I will make certain that they all have placement in my house,” Mortensen said,
his voice low and raspy as his hands ran down the young man’s supple hips before
moving back up over his hospital gown clad back to stroke the nape of his neck.
One of the man’s arms snaked around Orlando’s slender waist and pulled his small
body flush against his own. The hospital gown rode up his slender thighs and 
rested right below his buttocks.

“My second request…” Orlando said, his voice slightly trembling, “is that Colin
be kept on your staff as well…and that his position be permanent or as long as
he desires to keep in your service.”

Viggo’s face darkened at the words, but luckily his face was hidden in the nape
of the young man’s neck. He leaned back slowly and rubbed Orlando’s upper arms 
in an imploring manner. “Oh, my darling…do you not think that perhaps I could 
not find him good placement with another family? You know how little he and I 
get along…”

Orlando shook his head slowly. “Colin is very important to me…I would need to 
have him close to me and know he was well. That is all else I would ask of you.”

Lord Mortensen knew that with such simple requests, it would not reflect well on
him if he refused. Viggo thought on it for a while, and remembered how 
entertaining it had been to watch Farrell have to stand by helplessly while 
Viggo was with him. If he had to live with the crude bastard, at least he could
have a little fun with it. 

Viggo’s lips curled into a sneer of quick contentment before he urged Orlando to
look at him before he said, “Very well, your wish is my command sweet Orlando. 
Mr. Farrell shall remain in your services as your valet. That way he can keep 
his pleasure of attending to you as he has done this past few months. Does that
please you?”

Orlando nodded. “Thank you my Lord.”

The smile spread further on Viggo’s lips as the young man spoke his title. As 
much as he enjoyed the young man giving him respect, he wanted the boy’s 
affections. “I would hear my name fall from your lovely lips,” he said hoarsely. 

Orlando’s eyes fell until his chin was urged up again by the other man and
quietly he all but whispered, “Thank you…Viggo.”

Viggo smiled, and leaned down to claim a small kiss from Orlando’s lips. Orlando
did not respond at all to the kiss, he merely allowed Lord Mortensen to taste
his lips as he pleased. He could feel the man’s tongue prodding at the seem of
his lips, trying to gain entrance. The older man’s hand crept down Orlando’s 
back again and this time boldly ran his hand down so that his fingers crept over
the rounded swell of the young man’s buttocks.

Orlando pulled back, and at the look of slight irritation on the man’s face, he
quickly stammered, “I…I am sorry my Lord…Viggo…it is just that I am not 
comfortable being intimate in the hospital room…Please…let us wait for the 
wedding…please give me time…”

Viggo did not want to give this beautiful boy time. He wanted to throw the 
gorgeous creature down onto the shabby bed and ravish him then and there. He 
knew that would do him no good though, as the boy was not yet joined to him by 
the bonds of marriage. He had waited thus far, and he figured he could wait a 
little longer as he put the finishing touches on his scheme.

Viggo wrapped his arms once again about the youth’s waist and held him close. “I
shall wait, my darling, if that is your wish. Please now love, let me help you 
get dressed. We shall spend the night in the city, and in the morning we may go
and fetch your former fellow servants so that they may accompany us.”

Viggo kissed Orlando on the lips one last time before stepping from him, 
searching around the room for any kind of clothing the boy could wear. 

Orlando stopped cold. “Where would we me going?” he asked, his voice small in 
his worry.

Viggo turned to him briefly before continuing his search, happily exhaling when
he found Orlando’s discarded cloths on a small box near the bed. The cloths were
charred and torn, but they would do hidden under Lord Mortensen’s large coat. He
handed the clothes to the stunned young man and answered, “Why to my estate of 
course!” I will have new cloths tailored for you tomorrow for out journey, and 
then a more adequate wardrobe fashioned for you once we reach Walker Manor.”

“Walker Manor?” the small voice came from behind him.

Viggo turned back to him with a smile that made Orlando feel like a silly child
for not knowing the answer. “Why…it is my family estate, of course.”

Orlando bowed his head, feeling most foolish. Mortensen chuckled, but said 
nothing. When Viggo did not hear Orlando changing while he continued snooping 
through the room, he turned to the boy and saw he was standing in his dressing 
gown holding his clothes and looking at the floor.

“Is something the matter, my darling?” he asked.

Orlando clutched the clothes to his body, holding them tight to his chest. “I 
cannot wear these…” he said softly, his voice wavering.

Viggo looked at them skeptically and said, “I know they are not the best in 
quality, but I shall give you my coat and none shall see them…”

“No sir…I cannot wear them…they are from that night…”

Viggo’s brows furrowed in question for a moment before he understood. He nodded
slightly, thinking the boy quite sentimental but not desiring to cause issue 
over tattered clothes. “Very well, I shall send my manservant home to fetch a
few things for you to wear. They will be much too large, but they shall do until
we can get new ones made.”

Orlando kept his head down yet nodded, his grip on the rags in his hands not 
relenting. The Lord watched his young beauty with approving eyes. He pulled out
his pocket watch and looked at the time. “Oh my! The time has certainly passed 
swiftly…I should suspect you would be in need of some food. Why do you not wash
up, and I shall bring us back some proper food. You must be quite turned off of
the hospital’s food by now.”

Orlando shook his head. “Not at all, but if you desire other food, I shall 
understand.”

Viggo smiled. “I would indeed. I imagine you are not used to fine things. That 
shall change my darling, I assure you. I shall give you everything your heart 
desires. You need but tell me your request, and I shall grant it. Clothes, 
finery…anything. Does that please you my darling?”

Orlando cared not for finery and would have liked to keep silent, but he decided
to please the other man instead and nod.

Lord Mortensen took the young man’s hand in his own and kissed it. “I shall
fetch the food and send Davenport to the hotel to fetch you a few garments. I 
shall tell Nurse Bates to draw you a bath.” The man caressed Orlando’s cheek 
before fetching his walking cane and jacket before heading to the door. The man
turned before looking back to the youth. “I must remember to leave the goodly 
woman a proper sum for the aid she has given you.” 

With that, Viggo left Orlando, a lightness to his step and a smile on his face.




Sean froze. He could not say anything…he could not move…he could barely think. 
He was in such awe that he dropped the piece of wood the portrait was

Orlando was not the boy? Orlando was not the one who died? Orlando was alive?

Finally Sean could work out his motor skills enough that he was able to shakily
ask, “What?”

Marton bent and picked up the fallen picture, which luckily had not landed on 
its face, and picked it up. He brushed off the back and studied it again. “This
is not the boy. I saw a picture in the paper. The face is all wrong and the hair
was longer…this is not the boy. I would swear to you on my life.”

The room closed in around Sean. He could not believe that all this time…all 
these long months he had thought that his beloved Orlando was dead and had not
looked for him. Orlando could be all alone…he could have been hurt…he could have
died in the streets…anything could have happened and Sean had done nothing to 
find him. Orlando was alive…he was alive and Sean would find him.

Sean immediately went to the door of the cottage. Marton carefully set the 
picture on the table and followed the estranged man out the door. 
“Friend…Englishman….where are you going?”

Sean hurried through the woods to the road, intent on his walking and not so
much if Marton was following him. The Russian kept up though, and hurried to 
Sean’s side where he tried to ask him again. “Where?”

“To the city,” Sean said plainly. His eyes were lit up with hope. “Orlando is 
alive, and I am going to find him.”

Marton did not bother trying to say anything else to the other man as they 
walked. He had only been to the city a few times, so he knew that he would not 
be much help to his English friend, but knowing the severe depression that the 
man had been in for the first few weeks after he had thought the young man had 
died, he hated to think what would happen if Sean in the end came to realize he
had lost his beloved for the second time.

It took them a few hours to walk to the city, which was extremely busy and 
packed with people. Marton had not been around so many people in quite a long 
time, and he felt a little uncomfortable at first, but he had worked in a
factory for years, and was quite used to tight quarters with people and the 
discomfort quickly left. 

Sean seemed to know exactly where to go at first, all the pubs and places to 
check. He looked in several different places that turned out to be workhouses,
small hotels, cheap apartments. A few people he asked on the street if they knew
one youth named Orlando Bloom, about eighteen years of age, black hair, brown 
eyes…none had. 

Sean finally remembered how Marton had told him that some of the former 
employees of Lord Lee was still living in the city together. The descriptions
that Marton had given had made Sean think it was Miss Tyler and Miss Winslet.
Sean next asked for their names. In a small market, an older woman knew Miss 
Tyler.

The old woman had squinted her eyes and looked to the sky as she tried to 
remember where she had heard the name. “Her name is Liv…” Sean had suggested to
her, trying to increase her memory.

The woman’s eyes lit up then and she nodded her head. “Why yes, I do know your
Miss Tyler. She comes to the market every week to buy some small supplies. The 
poor girl lives with a few others and they do not have much money, so she cannot
afford the proper vegetables, and takes the ones that are a bit old. I do 
believe that she was from that house that burned down a few months ago...come to
think of it, I have not seen her in about two weeks…I do hope nothing has 
happened to her. Are you family?”

“I worked at the house with her as well…I am…looking for someone. Do you know 
where she lives?.”

The woman thought again and said, “I do believe she said she lives in the 
factory district in the smoke slums.”

Sean inwardly cringed. Those slums were the ones right beside the factories. 
They were the most run down and there was constant smoke and soot everywhere 
from the smokestacks. Miss Tyler must not be well off at all is she was living
there. 

Sean thanked the woman and signaled for Marton to follow him as he headed in the
direction of the factory slums. Once they reached the area, Sean began to scan 
for any familiar face. He found none though, so he began to ask strangers if 
they knew her.

“Pardon, do you know Miss Tyler?….Do you know Miss Tyler?….Excuse me, do you
know where I can find a Miss Tyler?”

Sean was beginning to get discouraged, when finally a woman with four small 
children nodded at his question. “Aye, that I do. She lives right down that 
street, third room on the left. You wont find her though. She left about a week
or two ago with her friend, that Miss Winslet. Their friend said they had found
new employment with a Lord.”

“Their friend?”

“Aye, a Mr. Monaghan. He still lives there if you fancy a talk with him. He 
could tell you more I should well guess.” The woman bounced her screamed baby on
her hip as she spoke, her other little children hiding behind her filthy dress
and poking little runny-nosed faces out at the two men.

Sean thanked her and took Marton’s arm. “It’s Dominic! He is still here. Thank 
god, if anyone were to know where Orlando is it would be him.” Sean started to 
go, but he turned to Marton again, this time placing his hand on the man’s 
shoulder and softly saying, “I thank you, my friend. For everything.”

Marton nodded. “Thank me later…go find your friend first.”

Sean smiled at him before leading the Russian down the street in the direction 
the woman had sent him. He found the door and knocked on it. He and Marton 
waited impatiently at the front of the small apartment for any sign of life. 
Sean knocked again and they waited.

Finally, there was a noise from the inside, and a faint voice saying, “Leave me
the bloody hell alone…” Someone inside was unlocking the door, and Dom revealed
himself when he opened it. 

Dom stood frozen for a few seconds before throwing himself at Sean and wrapping
his arms around him. “I don’t believe it!” he said in delight. “I thought you 
were dead, we all thought you were dead. What happened to you? Where have you
been?”

“I am sorry” Sean said, a smile on his own face as well. “I had been wounded and
Marton here helped nurse me back to health.” Sean put a hand on Marton’s back 
and urged him forward. Dom shook the Russian’s hand before turning back to Sean,
waving them inside his humble apartment. 

“Come in…it is nothing fancy, but you may sit down at least.”

In the room was one bed and a shabby chair. The walls were cracked, and the 
windows were patched with paper. Dom pulled the blanket up to cover the lumpy 
mattress and sat down, motioning the men to sit where they pleased. Marton took
the chair to allow the other two men to sit together and Sean took a place next
to Dom.

Dom looked at Sean in wonder. “I just can’t believe you are really here. We all
thought you were dead…tell me everything.”

“I will tell you everything, I promise, but first you must tell me…where is 
Orlando?”

Dom’s eyes fell to the bed and his posture slumped. “Oh…Sean…I do not know what
to tell you…”

“What happened?” Sean asked, his voice full of worry.

“We all thought you were dead, so did Orlando…he was devastated…”

Sean took Dom by the shoulders and shook him. “Where is he Dom?!” he asked 
desperately.

Marton leaned forward and let out his arm. “Let him go Sean, the boy will tell 
you.”

Sean apologized to Dom as he let go of his arms and rubbed them to ease the 
hurt. Dom nodded and quickly told them both that it was fine, he was not hurt. 
Dom scratched his head as he looked at the bed, not able to look into the blonde
man’s eyes and tell him what had become of his true love. 

“Well, after the fire, Orlando was hurt and put in the hospital. Too much smoke
or something. He was asleep for a while, and when he woke up, he was told about
your…well…that you died. He was devastated, Sean. I was only in the hospital for
a little while when Miss Winslet was there as well. He was in a sort of coma…the
doctors did not know that to do. I heard they were going to put him in an 
asylum, but them Lord Mortensen paid for his bills…”

“Mortensen?” Sean asked, his voice dark. “Lord Viggo Mortensen.”

Dom nodded. “Yeah, that bastard had been hanging around the hospital visiting 
Orli all the time. He obviously did not remember me, but I remembered him. I 
could hear him talking to his valet about Orlando in the halls sometimes after
his visit…he makes me sick. Poor Orli…”

“Dom, where is Orlando now?” Sean asked evenly, a little apprehension in his 
voice.

Dom’s face tightened as he thought of how to explain what had happened. He went
through several ways of how to break the news, but eventually everything just 
poured out. “I mean, he thought you were dead, Sean, so he had no idea when he 
accepted Mortensen’s offer that you would actually ever come back, I mean he 
never would have taken it if it weren’t for…”

Sean waved his hands to stop the babbling and Dom immediately went quite at the
look of shear rage on the man’s face. “Wait Dominic…what offer did Orlando 
accept?”

Dom looked at the floor and quietly said, “In return for providing a permanent
home and employment for any of the servants that had worked for Lord Lee, 
Orlando agreed to accept Lord Viggo’s offer of Marriage…”

Sean could not say anything for a few moments and then he let out a roar, 
getting up from the bed and throwing himself against the wall, slamming his 
fists against the cracked clay of the wall. 

Marton got up and rushed to the man, urging Dom to stay put and out of harms way
from the much larger man. Marton took Sean by he arms and pulled him back. He 
said something in Russian before realizing his mistake and repeating himself in
English. “Stop this! You will break the wall or yourself.”

Sean was shaking with anger. “That bastard! How dare he take Orlando like that!” 

“He was always looking at him at Lord Lee’s estate,” Dom said. “I saw him, he 
told his valet Davenport at the hospital how much he desired Orlando, even as he
lay unconscious. He is a vile man. If Colin was not there to keep him in check…”

“Mr. Farrell?” Sean asked, his mind swirling with all the new information he had
just discovered. 

Dom nodded emphatically. “Oh yes! I felt bad about leaving Orlando, but I had to
work to pay for Miss Winslet. The only reason why I was able to live with it was
that Colin cared for him night and day. He visited us a few times, told me that
he was going to buy a room for himself and Orlando, and that he would care for
him. Poor Colin, I think he fell in love with Orlando…it is hard to tell. He had
said he wanted to ask Orlando to marry him…but said it would have been extremely
inappropriate. I think if they would have lived together, after enough time 
Colin would have asked.”

Sean sank to the floor, resting his head in his hands. He finally looked to Dom
and asked. “Why did you not take Mortensen’s offer?”

Dom sighed. “It broke Orli’s heart, but there is no way I would work for that 
bastard Mortensen. I would rather work the factory and live here…not that I can
anymore…”

“Why?” Marton asked.

“I lost my job,” Dom said. “I could barely pay for this before, bow though, 
there is no chance. I just hope I can find another job soon.” He shook his head.
“I understand why Miss Tyler and Miss Winslet left, I don’t blame them. The 
whole situation is terrible…I mean…I did not even think Lord Lee liked Lord 
Mortensen, and I heard that he is the one who inherited his money! Probably 
would have taken the house too if it had not burned…”

Sean wanted to tell Dom that no, the house would have gone to himself and Orli,
but he could not say it. 

All of a sudden it felt as though lightning had struck him. Sean’s head jerked
up and hundreds of images flashed through his eyes. He saw Mortensen cornering
Orlando in the library…saw the way the man looked at the beautiful youth…he 
thought of the conversation with Christopher when the man told him of his plans
to change the will…Mortensen was to talk to the old man after him and 
Christopher was going to tell him the details of the new will…it was after this
conversation when the fire came…and Orlando disappeared…and he was shot…

“That son of a bitch!” Sean screamed in uncontrollable rage. He turned to the
other two men. “It was Mortensen who lit the fire! It was Mortensen’s man Grant
that shot me! Mortensen probably killed Christopher to keep his inheritance and
then tried to have me killed to take Orlando for his own! Why else would he pay
for Orlando’s bills…that is probably how he found him so fast at the house as 
well…”

“That Bastard…” Dom hissed, tears welling up in his eyes. “Elijah died in that
fire…if what you say is true, then Mortensen is the one who killed him…”

Sean got up and crossed the room to the younger man. He placed a hand on his 
shoulder to sooth him. “I am so sorry, Dom…I understand how much it hurts…”

Dom nodded.

Sean then surged to his feet and looked to Dom. “Where did they go?”

“Mortensen?” the young man asked. “He took Orlando and the others to his estate,
Walker in the North country.”

Sean nodded and looked intently at Dom. “Well then, I will go there and demand 
that Mortensen release Orlando and I shall bring him home.”

Dom got to his feet as well and shook his head. “It would be no use. Mortensen
is marrying Orlando in a few days, and it would take longer than that for us to
get there. Once they are married, there is nothing you can do.”

“I could try!” Sean roared, making Dom shrink back.

Marton stepped forward and in front of Dom, blocking the angry man from the
frightened one. “He is right, English. You say this man had you shot…and yet you
think he would let you approach his new spouse you want to take away? You are 
indeed mad.”

Sean knew that they were right. He would never even get near Mortensen in his 
torn clothes and unwashed hair. 

Suddenly, another image slashed through his head. 

The map.

He remembered the map Christopher had given him to his families hidden fortune.
A plan began to form in his head, and Sean smiled genuinely for the first time
in a while. Dom and Marton looked at him as though he were mad. 

Sean grabbed Dom by the shoulders and hugged him. He then pushed the young man
to arms length. “You and I shall have our revenge, Dominic” he promised. “We 
have to return to my gamekeeper’s cottage for but a moment, and then we shall
make way to the southern coast. I swear to you I shall explain this all to you 
as soon as I have what I need in my possession.”

He turned back to Marton and clasped the man’s shoulders affectionately. “My 
friend…you have been so very good to me. I would like to reward you if you would
give me some time. Unless you would have any desire to come with me further…”

Marton smiled. “I admit my time in the woods has been most enjoyable…yet I think
that I could find even more enjoyment in this plan of yours, my crazed friend. I
shall accompany you to the end.”

Sean smiled and turned to Dom. “Are you with us? Would you claim your revenge as
well?”

Dom nodded. “I am with you.”

“Then let us hurry.” Sean said, leading them from the small apartment and back 
towards the cottage.


TBC…
please oh please review