Authors notes: a new story, a new story about a lord and a young man with no memory with some sex thrown in for good measure.

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He could hardly remember beginning to run, but when he’d heard that frightful sentence he’d been up and out the door like a shot from a gun.

He couldn’t stay; he wouldn’t stay to have his life taken away from him and his dreams smashed before his eyes.

So he had too keep running, running until he’d crossed the border and was free from them and their control.

***********

Nathaniel was bored, he slumped in his chair a glass of brandy in his hand sloshing it about dejectedly. He’d come back from London in low spirits, his business deals had all gone through and all had been well on that end of the barging.

But then his partner had invited him to dinner and attempted to set him up with his sister.

The girls foolish giggling still rang in his ears, and he cringed to think his last night had been waste making small talk with that half-wit then in the arms of some gracious and accommodating young lad.

He loved London for the lads who’d love him for his money, when he was back in the country attempting to be a pillar for the community he had to burry the part of him that longed for a man in his bed.

Scandal such as that could lose him his lands and his power so he only indulge in his passions in London, where thankfully he knew where to look for what he wanted.

He’d have no clue where to start looking for a lover here in the country.

Angrily he threw his glass at the wall, smiling when it smashed, splashing red liquid down the cream wall.

Almost immediately his butler Giles came in, took one look at the wall and nodded softly to himself.

“I’ll call one of the girls to clean this sir”

“Good, good” Nathaniel stood up and stretched “I think I’d like to go riding”

“Very good sir” Giles said, he fallowed his master to his room and readied his riding garments as Nathaniel began to strip off.

*******

The horse was a beautiful chestnut mare brought from a stud farm in Newbury and called Clemency for her troubles, of all the horses in his stables she was his favourite, and he rode her anytime he could.

He had had many offers from other owners in the area to buy or breed from her but Nathaniel liked her to much to be parted from her for money or a new foal.

The light was growing dim and Nathaniel knew they should be going home soon; it would be unwise to ride in the dark so he turned them back to home when something caught his eye, what looked like a hand appearing from underneath a bush to the side of the road.

Dismounting Nathaniel went for a closer look.

There was a young man lying in the bushes, completely naked and covered with bruises. Nathaniel struggled to get his riding cloak off and throw it over the man’s body. Clemency pawed the ground behind him nervously as Nathaniel struggled up holding the limp body in his arms.

“He’s not dead” he told the horse carefully arranging himself and the man upon the horse before digging his heals into her flacks and spurring them onto home.