Captured by Him ~ The fourth novelette from "Different Desire", a Gay Victorian Romance and Erotic novelette collection

to tear away a large piece of flesh from his ribcage , and there had indeed been pain just like the husky voice had warned him. Lots and lots of pain. Until reality went away again.
    But now , he was lying flat on his back in an unfamiliar cool room , which smelled faintly of winter apples. The room had absolutely nothing in common with his usual room at Huntington Hall. The ceiling was wrong to start with. Instead of seeing the normal view of the intricate pattern of the carved rosewood ceiling in his bedchamber, Milton stared up at an unfamiliar , slightly arched stone ceiling. Small pieces of green moss grew in the crevices between the uneven grey stones. He noticed further that his luxury four - poster bed and goose - feather mattress had been exchanged for some sort of pallet made of a lumpy straw mattress and a thick , blue , woollen blanket , which smelled strongly of horses.
    Where on earth was he , and how had he ended up here? He had no recollection o f what had happened or how he had gotten there.
    Milton tried to hunt his memories into making sense , and with a mild wave of sick recognition , he remembered the terrible marriage proposal to Miss Constance Bradwardine and her happy agreement to it. He also remembered crying wretchedly later in the horse carriage, wishing deeply that things could be different and that he could be like everyone else.
    … And then there had been an ambush of highwaymen? An attack of some kind? An accident?
    The memory was still patchy and refused to make sense completely. Ignoring a short stab of pain , he propped himself up on one elbow to get a better look at his surroundings.
    It must be some sort of cellar or a storage room, he thought because the small stone room lacked any kind of windows. Only a little sunlight was able to steal through the broad cracks around the closed wooden door at the opposite end of the room, ca st ing most of the room in a faint dimness. But Milton’s attention was caught by the sight of a man, who was standing with his back towards Milton, leaning casua lly against the stone wall, apparently looking out through the small space between the wooden door and the stone ceiling. As if he had felt Milton’s eyes upon him, the other man turned around and looked directly at him.
    “So,” he said slowly , in a slightly husky voice. “You are awake , then, at last?”
    Milton’s heart seemed to skip several beats , and he had to swallow hard because–and may God have mercy on his soul!–the man at the other end of the small room was , without any doubt , one of the most attractive men he had ever seen. It made Milton intensely aware that he was undressed down to the waist , and he instinctively pulled up the horse-smelling blanket to cover himself.
    The man in front of him was both tall and muscular , and he seemed , for some reason, vaguely familiar. He was wearing the most mundane clothes: a carelessly laced linen shirt, which failed to hide his collarbones and a layer of dark, curly chest hair, Milton could not help but notice. He also wore a green waistcoat, a pair of brown moleskin trousers together with a pair of rather worn out knee-high leather boots. But there was something about the frayed red scarf around his neck which tickled Milton’s mind, although he had no idea why.
    He really should not be considered good-looking, Milton thought rationally. In fact, he should not even be considered to be handsome, not with that rough dark stubble and the unevenly cut brown hair , which fell from one side and reached just above his strong jawline. The man was even missing one of his teeth, the one next to his front teeth, which made him look mischievous and slightly wicked when he smiled, as he looked down on Milton.
    But still, the man was, for lack of better words to describe him, dangerously beautiful, in a natural and rough way. In fact, he was more than that; the other man practically radiated with raw and untamed masculinity , and it took Milton all his willpower and decency not to start speculating about what he may look like under all those shabby clothes.
    And suddenly , it made Milton deeply irritated and ill-tempered because he finally realized who the man in front of him was.
    It was the husky voice together with the faded purple bruise on the man’s chin , and lastly , it was his unusual eyes that betrayed him: this was the highwayman who had tried to rob him. Who had stabbed him. And who now , apparently , had kidnapped