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

throbbing headache , Milton had to smile at the comment.
    “Not really. Or at least , not t hat I know about.”
    “Are you sure? Because only a suicidal man or someone who is a complete imbecile would ever even consider attacking a thug like Jake. Even I would not do it.”
    “Ah, well. It was perhaps slightly rash,” Milton agreed.
    “You think so, do you?” Badger muttered. “Honestly, what does it take to keep you away from trouble? You really are the most problematic kidnapping victim ever!”
    “Suit yourself,” Milton replied aloof ly and opened one of his eyes, glancing at the other man , who sat down next to him.
    Badger continued to mutter angrily, but started to dab Milton’s forehead gently with a cold, wet cloth. It felt rather soothing and nice actually, Milton thought and tried to reach up to touch his forehead.
    “Wait … Have you tied my hands?” Milton asked in surprise and looked down. His wrists were indeed securely tied , with a knot that was impossible to reach in front of him , with a thin, but strong-looking hemp rope.
    “Yes, I have. I had to, since I do not want you to try to escape or kill yourself again,” Badger admitted and paused before he continued in a softer voice. “Sorry about that, by the way. If it is any consolation , you are not going to stay here for much longer. We are exchanging you for the ransom later today.”
    “I see,” Milton said blandly.
    “By noon , you should be able to return to your family. So you will soon be back to your large mansion and your servants again.”
    “I am looking forward to that,” Milton agreed automatically; however , it did feel like a noose was slowly tightening around his neck. Oh, yes, it would be wonderful to go back, Milton thought. Back to my little box where I belong. With his all-too-often disappointed father, his distant stepmother, his superior brother, and his awaiting fiancée.
    How did it ever come to this? Milton made a small grimace and sighed. For some reason , the thought of going back to Huntington Hall felt more claustrophobic than being locked inside a root cellar with a criminal highwayman.
    Badger looked at him thoughtfully. “Of course you are looking forward to g oing home,” he said after a while , and something that Milton could not quite decipher passed over his face. “You will only need to stay a few more hours here, so please try not to do anything rash, all right?”
    “I cannot promise anything,” Milton said and was oddly pleased when he saw the corner of Badger’s lips turned into a crooked smile. “So, what will you do when you get the ransom? Do you plan to kidnap some other poor nobleman?”
    “No. It is too much of a hassle , I think,” Badger said with a laugh. “We will split the money and then probably lay low for a while. The entire forest is already crawling with patrols on your account. To be honest, I am thinking of retiring.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes. I am seven-and-twenty now, so I think it is time. After this , I will have enough money to go to Liverpool , and there I can get a boat ticket to America. And from there , we will see.”
    “America? The new world?” Milton asked , aghast. “Why on earth would you like to move to the colonies?”
    “Well … I need something new. A new start, I suppose.”
    “Why can you not just move to a small village instead , where no one knows you? Surely that must be better than leaving the country and spending all your money on a boat ticket?”
    “You think anyone would even talk to me if they knew who I was? Oh no. Once you have chosen this path, you stay on it,” Badger said with a trace of bitterness in his husky voice. “And even if you would like to change, you cannot. They will avoid you because you are a thief and an outcast. And even if I could disappear in a larger city, like Birmingham or Nottingham, I do not want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting to be recognized.”
    “But why did you become a thief , then?” Milton asked before he had time to stop himself.
    “I do not know. Perhaps my mother forgot and cut my nails before I turned one year old?”
    “Pardon?”
    “You have not heard that expression before? I suppose it is an old peasant s’ proverb.”
    Badger was silent for a while before he continued. “My father died when I was eleven. We were farmers and rented land ; however , after my father died, times were hard. We children had to stop attending the village school