Lessons in Power is out now.
Sep. 22nd, 2009 01:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
charlie_cochraneLessons in Power, the fourth cambridge Fellows book, has just slipped its leash and is available here.
Cambridge, 1907
After settling in their new home, Cambridge dons Orlando Coppersmith and Jonty Stewart are looking forward to nothing more exciting than teaching their students and playing rugby. Their plans change when a friend asks their help to clear an old flame who stands accused of murder.
Doing the right thing means Jonty and Orlando must leave the sheltering walls of St. Bride’s to enter a labyrinth of suspects and suspicions, lies and anguish.
Their investigation raises ghosts from Jonty’s past when the murder victim turns out to be one of the men who sexually abused him at school. The trauma forces Jonty to withdraw behind a wall of painful memories. And Orlando fears he may forever lose the intimacy of his best friend and lover.
When another one of Jonty’s abusers is found dead, police suspicion falls on the Cambridge fellows themselves. Finding this murderer becomes a race to solve the crime…before it destroys Jonty’s fragile state of mind.
Sneak peek?
Orlando wandered through the bathroom which connected their two bedrooms, found his pyjamas, slipped them on, then returned to find Jonty snuggled down, book and reading glasses discarded. Orlando slid between the soft linen sheets, drawing Jonty to him. “I’d hoped it was all over, you know.”
“Hmm?”
“This business with the thunder. I always hoped that somehow I could overcome it with my affection for you. ‘Perfect love casteth out fear’ and all that.”
“Well it should do, Orlando, but somehow it’s not as easy as it seems. We do have perfect love for each other and I’d regard myself as blessed above all men ‘were it not that I have bad dreams’.” Jonty shuddered, as if he were shaking off memories as easily as he could shake off his jacket.
“Do you? Nightmares?”
“No, clown.” Jonty pinched his lover’s backside. “I was quoting your pal Hamlet. It isn’t the land of nod, wherever I go when the storms come. I don’t feel distressed or see visions, I just visit somewhere else. Very odd.”
“I think you go there to protect yourself, in case you remember anything.” Orlando smoothed his lover’s hair, admiring the golden tones, the hints of auburn the firelight threw up.
“You could well be right. I don’t want to remember the gruesome details, thank you.” Jonty snuggled onto his lover’s chest. “Want to make new memories with you. I think we should somehow wangle it one night, you know, make love while a storm is at its height. That might just get rid of all the trouble. If I could keep here for long enough to take an active part.”
Orlando held him tighter, kissed his brow. “I suppose I could pinch you or something. Shame there’s not been a storm since we got the house—being there would make it easier.”
“There’ll be plenty in the spring. We just need to plan things. You’ll like that, working out your military strategy.” Jonty giggled and launched an assault on his lover’s collarbone.
“Seems you’ve got a strategy worked out.” Orlando responded by caressing Stewart’s back, little, tender movements which always brought contentment to them both.
“Sort of. It’s been a long time since we shared the last favours, my love. I’ve been skittish for too long.”
The business with Jardine had become an ever-present menace, as if those who’d committed such outrages on Jonty had somehow found access to his bedroom and were standing gloating, spoiling even the most innocent of pleasures.
Orlando had been frustrated yet endeavoured to understand—he had to be patient, the worst thing to do would be rushing or forcing things. None of this logical reasoning had helped. Now the lowering clouds of unease seemed to have lifted and the sunshine of affection warmed him beyond measure. “If you’re sure, I’m ready.”
“You always are, Dr. Coppersmith. Since you discovered the delights of the flesh you’ve become quite a hedonist. Just imagine if I’d taken up that post in Ireland, you’d never have known any of this.”
Orlando swallowed hard, hating to be reminded of how close he’d been to not having Jonty by him. “Don’t remind me of that. Small turning points, that’s what life consists of. One little decision and the whole world changes.”
“It does. As it did for us.” Jonty reached up to kiss him. “Come on, I want you to lie with me. Been far too long.”
Orlando didn’t reply. Lips and hands could talk for him, kisses saying yes as loudly as tender touches did. Jonty’s skin was warmer than expected beneath his boyish pyjamas, and wafts of something lovely, which might have been lavender soap, assailed Orlando’s senses as he undid any buttons which had survived his first assault. To feel Jonty’s chest against his own, downy skin on smooth, was a necessary part of their lovemaking for him, a sign that they were indeed one, and not meant to be split asunder.
He still wasn’t sure how far Jonty wanted to pursue this. There was hesitancy in his touch, some slight tentativeness which didn’t usually grace their bed. He gently caressed the small of his lover’s back and was pleased to find that, at least for the moment, his hands were allowed to carry on.
Jonty twisted in his lover’s arms, using his powerful muscles to turn Orlando, give himself the dominance. He stretched over his lover, a protective canopy against the cold, the world, anything which might disturb them this night. Orlando burrowed into the security, enjoying the unusual sensation of being looked after. He preferred to be the protective one, guarding his most treasured possession, but Ariadne Peters’s words had stuck with him. He knew he shouldn’t always be the protector.
Tender kisses on the side of his neck made him tingle, firm strokes on his lower back made the sensation spread. However far Jonty wanted to go, he was ready, more than ready. He inched his fingers from the smooth skin of Jonty’s lower back down towards their target, a movement which normally brought delighted acquiescence, manoeuvring of body and legs to allow access. Not this time.
“What’s wrong?” Orlando spoke into his lover’s hair. Jonty had tensed—he was trying to hide it, but Orlando knew.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Jonty pulled away, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling.
“Is it this wretched thunder?” Orlando laid a tentative hand on his lover’s arm. A protective, comforting gesture, with no hint of desire.
“No. Yes. It’s everything.” Jonty crossed his arms over his face, shaking off Orlando’s hand in the process. “I’m back there, in my mind. A boy of thirteen in a cold room praying for a fire alarm to sound, or anything that would make it stop.”
“Dear God.” Orlando knew this had happened before, but never with him—all he could do was wait for Jonty to come out of the slough of despond.
“Put off the light and go to sleep, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll be able to get off for a while.”
“Should I stay here? I’ll do whatever you think best.”
“Please, if you could bear it. I’ll be fine, soon. Just tonight…I couldn’t do it tonight.” Jonty turned, pulling the covers over his head.
“Of course.” Orlando didn’t attempt to touch his friend. For the moment they were beyond words or contact. There was a chance, more than a chance, that it would be a long time before doing it became a viable option again.
Cambridge, 1907
After settling in their new home, Cambridge dons Orlando Coppersmith and Jonty Stewart are looking forward to nothing more exciting than teaching their students and playing rugby. Their plans change when a friend asks their help to clear an old flame who stands accused of murder.
Doing the right thing means Jonty and Orlando must leave the sheltering walls of St. Bride’s to enter a labyrinth of suspects and suspicions, lies and anguish.
Their investigation raises ghosts from Jonty’s past when the murder victim turns out to be one of the men who sexually abused him at school. The trauma forces Jonty to withdraw behind a wall of painful memories. And Orlando fears he may forever lose the intimacy of his best friend and lover.
When another one of Jonty’s abusers is found dead, police suspicion falls on the Cambridge fellows themselves. Finding this murderer becomes a race to solve the crime…before it destroys Jonty’s fragile state of mind.
Sneak peek?
Orlando wandered through the bathroom which connected their two bedrooms, found his pyjamas, slipped them on, then returned to find Jonty snuggled down, book and reading glasses discarded. Orlando slid between the soft linen sheets, drawing Jonty to him. “I’d hoped it was all over, you know.”
“Hmm?”
“This business with the thunder. I always hoped that somehow I could overcome it with my affection for you. ‘Perfect love casteth out fear’ and all that.”
“Well it should do, Orlando, but somehow it’s not as easy as it seems. We do have perfect love for each other and I’d regard myself as blessed above all men ‘were it not that I have bad dreams’.” Jonty shuddered, as if he were shaking off memories as easily as he could shake off his jacket.
“Do you? Nightmares?”
“No, clown.” Jonty pinched his lover’s backside. “I was quoting your pal Hamlet. It isn’t the land of nod, wherever I go when the storms come. I don’t feel distressed or see visions, I just visit somewhere else. Very odd.”
“I think you go there to protect yourself, in case you remember anything.” Orlando smoothed his lover’s hair, admiring the golden tones, the hints of auburn the firelight threw up.
“You could well be right. I don’t want to remember the gruesome details, thank you.” Jonty snuggled onto his lover’s chest. “Want to make new memories with you. I think we should somehow wangle it one night, you know, make love while a storm is at its height. That might just get rid of all the trouble. If I could keep here for long enough to take an active part.”
Orlando held him tighter, kissed his brow. “I suppose I could pinch you or something. Shame there’s not been a storm since we got the house—being there would make it easier.”
“There’ll be plenty in the spring. We just need to plan things. You’ll like that, working out your military strategy.” Jonty giggled and launched an assault on his lover’s collarbone.
“Seems you’ve got a strategy worked out.” Orlando responded by caressing Stewart’s back, little, tender movements which always brought contentment to them both.
“Sort of. It’s been a long time since we shared the last favours, my love. I’ve been skittish for too long.”
The business with Jardine had become an ever-present menace, as if those who’d committed such outrages on Jonty had somehow found access to his bedroom and were standing gloating, spoiling even the most innocent of pleasures.
Orlando had been frustrated yet endeavoured to understand—he had to be patient, the worst thing to do would be rushing or forcing things. None of this logical reasoning had helped. Now the lowering clouds of unease seemed to have lifted and the sunshine of affection warmed him beyond measure. “If you’re sure, I’m ready.”
“You always are, Dr. Coppersmith. Since you discovered the delights of the flesh you’ve become quite a hedonist. Just imagine if I’d taken up that post in Ireland, you’d never have known any of this.”
Orlando swallowed hard, hating to be reminded of how close he’d been to not having Jonty by him. “Don’t remind me of that. Small turning points, that’s what life consists of. One little decision and the whole world changes.”
“It does. As it did for us.” Jonty reached up to kiss him. “Come on, I want you to lie with me. Been far too long.”
Orlando didn’t reply. Lips and hands could talk for him, kisses saying yes as loudly as tender touches did. Jonty’s skin was warmer than expected beneath his boyish pyjamas, and wafts of something lovely, which might have been lavender soap, assailed Orlando’s senses as he undid any buttons which had survived his first assault. To feel Jonty’s chest against his own, downy skin on smooth, was a necessary part of their lovemaking for him, a sign that they were indeed one, and not meant to be split asunder.
He still wasn’t sure how far Jonty wanted to pursue this. There was hesitancy in his touch, some slight tentativeness which didn’t usually grace their bed. He gently caressed the small of his lover’s back and was pleased to find that, at least for the moment, his hands were allowed to carry on.
Jonty twisted in his lover’s arms, using his powerful muscles to turn Orlando, give himself the dominance. He stretched over his lover, a protective canopy against the cold, the world, anything which might disturb them this night. Orlando burrowed into the security, enjoying the unusual sensation of being looked after. He preferred to be the protective one, guarding his most treasured possession, but Ariadne Peters’s words had stuck with him. He knew he shouldn’t always be the protector.
Tender kisses on the side of his neck made him tingle, firm strokes on his lower back made the sensation spread. However far Jonty wanted to go, he was ready, more than ready. He inched his fingers from the smooth skin of Jonty’s lower back down towards their target, a movement which normally brought delighted acquiescence, manoeuvring of body and legs to allow access. Not this time.
“What’s wrong?” Orlando spoke into his lover’s hair. Jonty had tensed—he was trying to hide it, but Orlando knew.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Jonty pulled away, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling.
“Is it this wretched thunder?” Orlando laid a tentative hand on his lover’s arm. A protective, comforting gesture, with no hint of desire.
“No. Yes. It’s everything.” Jonty crossed his arms over his face, shaking off Orlando’s hand in the process. “I’m back there, in my mind. A boy of thirteen in a cold room praying for a fire alarm to sound, or anything that would make it stop.”
“Dear God.” Orlando knew this had happened before, but never with him—all he could do was wait for Jonty to come out of the slough of despond.
“Put off the light and go to sleep, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll be able to get off for a while.”
“Should I stay here? I’ll do whatever you think best.”
“Please, if you could bear it. I’ll be fine, soon. Just tonight…I couldn’t do it tonight.” Jonty turned, pulling the covers over his head.
“Of course.” Orlando didn’t attempt to touch his friend. For the moment they were beyond words or contact. There was a chance, more than a chance, that it would be a long time before doing it became a viable option again.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 01:02 pm (UTC)If I get it now, I won't get my work done for the day. It shall be my reward for getting my work done. ZOMG YAY.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 02:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 01:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 02:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 02:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 02:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 02:38 pm (UTC)Jonty says thank you for the petting. LOL
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-25 04:04 pm (UTC)Tell him I said he's very welcome. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 04:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 07:21 pm (UTC)Hugs
Charlie
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 04:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 07:12 pm (UTC)Thank you. That's me in the corner having my release day panic.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 05:00 pm (UTC)Btw, congrats! The excerpt is so sad but that means the happy ending will be extra yummy.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 07:19 pm (UTC)Thank you for the kind words - yes, there will be a happy ending and I hope it's scrummy.
Where are you off to on holiday?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 06:25 pm (UTC)Yay to happy endings!! I can withstand almost any fictional trauma as long as the end is uplifting. Which I'm glad for because the theme of this one is almost more than I can take.
"A boy of thirteen in a cold room praying for a fire alarm to sound, or anything that would make it stop."
That line was just all kinds of vividly disturbing and I'm amazed Jonty can have a normal relationship at all, the poor man.:(
I am interested to see how he fares.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-26 03:02 pm (UTC)Have a great time.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-22 09:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-23 11:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-23 10:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 10:39 am (UTC)That cat? That's based on a cat we met in the place I've based the Stewart's home on. We reckon he was a ghost.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 03:42 am (UTC)PS Did Uni go ok? Have been buying supplies for senior Oxbridge who also starts this week
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 10:45 am (UTC)Uni's going fine. The wallet's not happy but everything else has been a case of so far so good. I think we should have packed a lorry with all Cathy's stuff...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 12:36 pm (UTC)FYI, I love Orlando so much now. It's not right, because I'm supposed to love Jonty more...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 02:02 pm (UTC)Now I'm intrigued. what has Orlando done to win such devotion? Apart from looking like Owen Hargreaves?
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 03:17 pm (UTC)Of course the fact that Orlando looks like OH helps, but Jonty looks like a Greek god. Hm...
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 03:35 pm (UTC)Protective Orlando is great because, of course, he has no clue about he could protect anybody from anything.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 04:21 pm (UTC)I want a protective!Orlando for myself. I hope he can protect me from nasty cockroaches and spiders, at least.
(Question: who's that man on the cover?)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 08:36 pm (UTC)If I find a protective Orlando, I'll mail him to you.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 03:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-24 03:37 pm (UTC)Hugs
Wumble
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-27 03:41 am (UTC)Ever since Christmas at the Stewart house in the last book I've been wondering if Jonty's siblings and their spouses know the nature of his relationship with Orlando, or at least suspect.
I was reminded of this question when I read Lessons in Power and it was brought home to me that Jonty's siblings have no idea what happened to him in school (which led to all sorts of awful wonderings about whether or not Clarence had ever been polite to Jardine, because he just didn't know). I can certainly understand why he wouldn't want his siblings to know about that, but I see no reason why people raised by Helena and Richard Stewart would have any trouble accepting that their brother loves a man. The various spouses, on the other hand, I'm less sure of.
So yeah, basically just wondering what Clarence, Sheridan and Lavinia make of Orlando, or if perhaps this might come up in a later book?
On a separate note: I really liked this one, perhaps even more than the previous three and I do hope we're going to be seeing Rex and Matthew again. And Mrs Ward is kind of awesome (and was that a hint for the next novel at the end there?). :D
I hope I managed to catch all my typos, I tend to get ahead of myself while typing and all sorts of strange jumbles come out. ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-27 12:50 pm (UTC)Jonty's siblings have no idea what happened at school, so there have been times when they treated Jardine just as they'd have treated any other old schoolmate. Awful for Jonty and his parents - you can imagine the scene 'I saw old Jardine to day, looking very well...'. Jonty feeling sick and his mother feeling murderous.
Lavinia knows, and has a sort of jealous acceptance (jealous because the lads clearly find some sort of physical pleasure together - she wouldn't understand what). Ralph Broad knows too and finds it a bit bemusing.
Clarence suspects but has never asked outright; both he and his wife just think the lads are two old dons who happen to share a house. And the wife thinks that's because Orlando's poor and a bit other wordly and Jonty is looking after him.
Sheridan (who hasn't inherited any of the family brains) doesn't actually think about it at all. Thinks Orlando is the splendid sort of sensible chap who'll knock some sense into Jonty and make him settle down.
I haven't planned having rex or Matthew in the next three books, but I have plans for one set after WWI and they might creep into that. Mrs ward will be flitting around the next few books as will the Stewarts.
Now, two people have asked that 'hint' question and I'm completely bemused. I see no hint. Halp?
Charlie
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-28 02:21 am (UTC)I am amused that Sheridan thinks Orlando will make Jonty 'settle down', because it's true. At least, for a given meaning of 'settle down'. :P
Clearly I was letting my imagination get away from me and reading things into things that I shouldn't have. I don't know what the other person was referring to, but I meant the little bit in Mrs Ward's letter to her son, in response to a query he must have made regarding 'her gentlemen' (and I am vastly amused at the fact that they've made minor celebrities of themselves). To be sure, it makes perfect sense that the young Mr Ward would wonder if the Drs Coppersmith and Stewart his mother works for are the ones he's read about in the newspaper, but it occurred to me that he might have had another reason for asking, namely that he was in need of a couple of private detective types himself. It would seem I was mistaken, thankyou for clearing that up, or I might have found myself expecting entirely the wrong things of the next book. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-09-28 10:23 am (UTC)The next story? If you don't want spoilers, don't scroll down.
Set in Bath. Another older mystery to solve. An old friend of Jonty's turns up. Orlando isn't happy at all.