Noble Hearts Read online

  “Noble Hearts”

  M/M Gay Romance

  Jerry Cole

  © 2020

  Jerry Cole

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is intended for Adults (ages 18+) only. The contents may be offensive to some readers. It may contain graphic language, explicit sexual content, and adult situations. May contain scenes of unprotected sex. Please do not read this book if you are offended by content as mentioned above or if you are under the age of 18.

  Please educate yourself on safe sex practices before making potentially life-changing decisions about sex in real life. If you’re not sure where to start, see here: http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com/safe-sex-resources/.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner & are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Products or brand names mentioned are trademarks of their respective holders or companies. The cover uses licensed images & are shown for illustrative purposes only. Any person(s) that may be depicted on the cover are simply models.

  Edition v1.00 (2020.01.01)

  http://www.jerrycoleauthor.com

  Special thanks to the following volunteer readers who helped with proofreading: D. Fair, Jim Adcock, Earleen Gregg, RB, JayBee, Jenny and those who assisted but wished to be anonymous. Thank you so much for your support.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Epilogue

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  Chapter One

  Edmond awoke to the light shining in through his window, right onto his face. As he regained his senses, he came to realize what the date was, what his circumstances were, and why they were so. With these realizations the weight of the world came crashing down upon him painfully, and once again, breaking his heart.

  He was supposed to get up earlier. But after the maid had come in, opened the curtains, and left his jug of warm water to wash in, he had fallen asleep again. He was just so tired, not in his body but in his very heart and soul. At least this meant there was no point trying to sleep any more. He sat up and looked out the window, then to his clock, glad to see he was only getting up half an hour late. He had done worse. But he knew from experience that no amount of rest could relieve the pure spiritual exhaustion he was experiencing.

  It was four months since the Earl of Thanet had passed away. Four months since Edmond became the Earl of Thanet himself. But it felt like only yesterday that his father and mentor had passed away, leaving him with all the privileges, but also all the burdens of an Earldom.

  For the first few months he had been all but unable to grieve. He was so busy making funeral arrangements, managing the matters of the estate which had been left up to him, and making the obligatory social appearances as a new Earl. And after that time, he had fled to the American coast, from where he carried out his bare minimal duties without needing to appear at any event.

  He walked over to the sideboard and found the jug of water the maid had left earlier, still warm. Pouring it into the basin he washed slowly and thoroughly, enjoying how the warm water cut through the cold morning air. He wasn't sure what the day ahead held. He had addressed all his most pressing duties already, and he had nothing else that needed urgent attention.

  From observing the previous Earl of Thanet, Edmond knew that he had to be making new arrangements. When he had free time, which meant he was supposed to be writing letters, arranging balls, addressing charities, or whatever else he could do to occupy his time. But it was terrifying.

  He knew more or less what to do, of course. He knew every step of every activity which could build his prestige and ensure his Earldom was fair to the people, righteous in the eyes of the Royals, and profitable to himself. He couldn't bring himself to do any of it.

  Edmond Tufton knew he did not belong in this world. It was hard to even try when he felt guilty for so much as talking to the other nobles. He had inherited an entire Earldom for no apparent reason.

  Sure, the previous Earl of Thanet had been Edmond's father and mentor. But only by adoption. Edmond himself was an orphan, not even from a wealthy family. His whole life, he had seen himself as his adoptive father's charity project. And then, when the Earl had passed away, Edmond had been shocked to find out that he was the chosen heir.

  It wasn't right. He was sure that nobody who knew him would think it was right.

  The previous Earl had always told Edmond to not worry too much about what others thought, to just do whatever was right. But Edmond had always been of the mindset that what was right was in part decided by others. After all, were you not supposed to do unto others as you would have them do unto you? To treat your brothers with respect and kindness? What others wished from him mattered. What others thought was right, was probably right.

  Edmond never could shake that feeling. He had tried over and over, but he had always come back to the same conclusion that he needed to see the world through the eyes of others. And, as far as he knew, through the eyes of others he was a man who had no right becoming an Earl.

  Nobody had ever told him so, of course. They were far too polite. It wasn't right to tell him such things before he became an Earl, and now that he had authority it would be impossible to get the truth out of anyone. But he knew. He knew what they thought of him, what they no doubt were saying about him behind his back.

  And those who didn't? They didn't know him. It was no secret that those who were the friendliest to him were the ones who didn't know of his past. They assumed he was the Earl's nephew, or the child of Continental nobility. He had only made the mistake of correcting them once or twice. When he saw how their expressions and demeanor changed,
he knew that he had to hide his shame from them and from the world. He would be hated, always doubted, possibly even feared if anyone knew he had simple, common blood in his veins.

  At first it had brought him only shame. After all, he was a boy and did not feel much sympathy for the upholders of social order, the guard dogs of conformity and fashion who seemed to hate him simply for existing. But as he grew older, he came to understand their perspective and their loathing, and to a degree, to loathe himself. Especially after accepting the Earldom.

  It was not proper for someone like Edmond to be in such a high-ranking position. That was the end of it. He was an orphaned boy who had been so very kindly taken in by a noble gentleman. He was a pathetic commoner who had been given the extreme privilege of living with an Earl. He should be grateful for what he had already received, which was surely more than he deserved.

  Of course, some would argue that the Earl's mentoring of Edmond was enough, that one could learn to be a good Earl. Edmond was not so sure. Back at the orphanage he had been taught not only that children ought to respect their place in the world, but also precisely what his place was. He was a pauper, an orphan and a brat. He was a dirty child who needed a lot of work. No matter how much he worked to improve, he never received praise, only more demands.

  Edmond had carried these lessons and this mentality with him, even to this very day. He still inspected himself with a highly critical eye, wondering what he could improve and never resting even momentarily on what he had already achieved. In his mind, he was nowhere near prepared for the responsibilities set upon his shoulders.

  It wasn't like he lacked any of the fundamental traits. He was well-mannered, educated, and not exactly unappealing to the eye. Indeed, the people who knew him only as the Earl's son and heir deemed him to be an excellent young man. Many of these fine ladies and gentlemen had offered him their daughters to court, which Edmond had declined as gently as he could.

  Being an Earl, in Edmond's mind, was about more than just looking good and speaking properly. He was not sure what the full job description would entail. If he had the remotest idea of that, perhaps he would feel more confident in his abilities to do a good job. But he had seen it.

  The old Earl of Thanet had been a hero to Edmond. A fine man full of grace and dignity despite his old age. A wise man who always knew the right thing to say and the perfect time to say it. A fair man who loved all his subjects and all his noble friends. Edmond's adoptive father had so many traits that inspired awe in Edmond.

  Edmond had even tried to analyze the old Earl's ways but had somehow felt he was not seeing the big picture. There was something in there, deep down in the old Earl's manners and heart, which had made him an excellent Earl. Something which eluded Edmond, but of which he was keenly aware. Something he would never possess, no matter how hard he pretended to be a good, noble young man.

  It had been some time since Edmond had given up on finding a more suitable heir. It had been only a few days since Edmond had resigned himself to his fate and hidden away in his manor, a hermit, so that nobody would see what an awful, inappropriate, unprepared young Earl he was.

  He sat before his desk and contemplated what might happen if he did something wrong today. They could discover him for any simple mistake. Edmond sighed, looking at the paperwork. He should never have been chosen heir. He was a fraud, after all. He would eventually be caught, probably for something petty such as signing the wrong name on a sheet, or refusing the wrong person's invitation, or not understanding a request.

  Being a noble was a world full of traps. And although the old Earl had warned him of them, Edmond felt nearly paranoid as he attempted to spot each and every potential hurdle or stumbling block. He set out the papers, wondering if any of them would expose him and force him out onto the streets.

  But he could not exactly stop that from happening. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen.

  The very best he could do was simply try and do a good job. Simply put in as much effort as he could and hope that he would get by if only by the sweat of his brow and wise delegation.

  Chapter Two

  Awaking to the sound of the bell which woke all servants, Theodore, tutor to the Elridge family, all but leapt out of bed, rushing to his small dresser where he began to swiftly draw a comb through his silky chestnut hair before tying it back as tightly as he could manage. The brown eyes of his reflection glowed back at him, refreshed and alert. He felt genuinely excited and happy at the prospect of spending another day educating and exercising the Elridge brood, making sure they grew to be fine young ladies and gentlemen.

  Theodore Smithe was not the sort of person who usually became a tutor. But he was not the sort of person who had to worry about the burdens of true nobility either. He had been adopted by his uncle, a noble and wealthy merchant, after his parents passed away, and had been more than grateful for what he had already received in life. Still, to fall so quickly from the adoptive son of a nobleman to a penniless single young man, was a shock to the senses.

  When Theodore’s uncle’s ship had disappeared off the coast of China, he quickly realized that despite the wealth and power his uncle had held, Theodore was not to inherit anything of note. Overnight, he had gone from a comfortable young noble man to a penniless nobody. He had experienced a true stroke of luck in that one of his friends had befriended a well-known tutor. The man was willing to teach Theodore the skills required to become a tutor for children from families of equal or greater social standing.

  Theodore was the only one of his friends who could be happy becoming a tutor. He was also the only one who hadn’t taken his studies seriously. Theodore wasn't sure why. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful. Rather, he had always been the sort of man to have his head in the clouds. As such, he had been afraid that the tutor wouldn’t be able to find him a placement. But he had.

  Sir and Mrs. Elridge had seven children: two boys, aged four and thirteen, and five girls, aged two, three, seven, ten, and sixteen. Theodore was not quite sure how they did it, but he could see why. The children were absolute darlings. With rosy cheeks, sky blue eyes and hair in various shades of blond and brown, they were the very picture of childhood innocence and charm. Yes, perhaps a little energetic, a little full of mischief, but Theodore had been just like them when he was younger, and it warmed his heart to see a reflection of his own soul in these beautiful children.

  The door to Theodore's room opened and the whole brood crowded in, having escaped the governess' efforts at dressing them.

  "Good morning, Mr. Smithe," came a quiet, shy voice from behind the chair.

  Theodore spun the whole chair around on one leg so he could face the kids. "Good morning, Lewis."

  Lewis, aged four, was the most sensitive little boy Theodore had ever met. He wept for characters in storybooks and dead wildlife, spending much of his day cuddling the family cat. He avoided his sister, Christine, like the plague due to how intent she was on bullying him. As she moved in near him, he jumped out of her way and onto Theodore's freshly made bed.

  "Wait!" Angelica cried, following him and scrambling up the side. Angelica, aged two, was the youngest of the brood, and was far bolder than any of the other children, as well as always making his coat so dirty that it still stained his shirt underneath.

  Behind them both, Christine rushed up, holding a broom she had acquired from somewhere and shouting cheerily.

  Christine, aged three, was Angelica's playmate and constant tormentor. Theodore often had to show them how to play nicely together when a fight would break out due to their similar ages and temperaments.

  There was a grumble as Victor stepped in, took the broom from a now enraged Christine and glanced over at Theodore with pleading eyes. Victor, aged thirteen, was the firstborn son, named after his grandfather, whose same piercing eyes and loud laugh he apparently possessed. He was constantly somewhat weary, both from his intense educational schedule and from corralling his siblings.

  With a l
ittle gasp, a small figure darted behind Theodore's chair, trying to escape the noise and cramped conditions of the center of the room. Eliza, aged seven, was the shyest of the children. Theodore was glad that Eliza spent so much time reading. But, he also hoped that she would start playing with the others a bit more, sooner than later. He reached behind the chair and petted her curls gently, reassuring her that she would be safe there.

  Theodore looked about the room, his eyes finally landing on another of his favorites, who he was incredibly protective of.

  "Good morning, Mabel," he said.

  Mabel nodded. "Good morning Mr. Smithe," she replied, her voice slightly slurred as usual.

  Mabel, aged ten, was often chastised by the other children and the housekeeper for being, as one maid put it "slow." Theodore did not agree. Mabel was witty and loving and read very well. She had a uniquely round face and slight eyes which held a glimmer of near-constant joy which made Theodore love her all the more.

  But, counting again, one child was missing.

  Victoria, aged sixteen, was the eldest of the children. She was wise beyond her years from having to bear much of the burdens of raising her siblings. She was strong headed, focused and not particularly pleased with Theodore's intrusion.

  She would no doubt be dressing on her own, in her room, enjoying the peace and quiet as the governess sought her siblings. Not that Theodore blamed her. The children didn't all share rooms. Even though Victoria had a room all to herself, it was still small, and far too close to the toddlers' rooms for comfort.

  The Elridge family did not live quite as well as Theodore had hoped, but it was nevertheless a pleasant home. They had a governess, but she was young and not as involved. Theodore found himself complementing her role, rather than simply educating the older children. Not that he minded this.