Page 48 of A Gathering Storm
By way of answer, Ward set his own cutlery down and leaned back. “Me either. I think I’m ready for bed now.”
Nicholas’s twitch of a smile grew into a grin.
Just then, Mary returned, a jug in her hand.
“Begging your pardon, sirs, I forgot your gravy,” she said. Then, spying their half-full, pushed-aside plates, added worriedly, “Oh, didn’t you like it?”
“The food was fine,” Ward said. “We’re just not very hungry.”
Mary flinched at his harsh tone, and he couldn’t help but be irritated by her reaction, even though he knew it wasn’t her fault.
She glanced at Nicholas, as though begging for help.
“Is it because I forgot the gravy?” she whispered, eyes wide.
Nicholas said calmly, “No, no, not at all, it’s just been a long day for us, and we’re needing our beds more than food.” He pushed his chair back and stood, drawing a couple of pennies out of his pocket and handing them to her. “Thank you for your service, Mary. I hope the rest of your evening is easier.”
“Thank you, sir,” the girl replied, hurriedly tucking the coins into the pocket of her apron. “Good night, sir. Sleep well.”
“That was kind of you,” Ward remarked as they walked down the corridor. He was conscious that it would not have occurred to him to give the girl a gratuity.
“It was just tuppence,” Nicholas said, shrugging. “Still, I suppose she only earns . . . what? A shilling a day?”
“A shilling? Is that all?”
Nicholas glanced at him, his expression amused. “Don’t you look at your household accounts?”
“Good heavens, no. Pipp deals with all that. I’m far too busy with my work.”
“Hmmm,” Nicholas said. He didn’t sound particularly impressed with Ward’s ignorance of his servants’ wages, and Ward felt unexpectedly embarrassed.
“I should know about such things,” he decided. “I’ll speak to Pipp about it when I get back.”
Nicholas made one of his smile-frowns at that, puzzled and pleased at once, and for some reason, that did Ward’s heart good.
As they began to climb the stairs, Nicholas leading the way, Ward wondered what salary Nicholas earned. How much of his daily earnings did tuppence amount to? Or a shilling? Even as he pondered, he felt downright traitorous just thinking such thoughts, because he knew, without a doubt, that Nicholas would hate it. For the first time, Ward felt glad, fiercely glad, that he hadn’t paid Nicholas even a penny for his time. If he had, everything would be different between them; he saw that now. Nicholas would feel entirely differently about him. About them.
“Thank you for your service.”
Service.
Service wasn’t just work, it was paid work. Work that was instructed by a master of a servant for payment. The money that changed hands for that work shaped the relations of those two people in a way that could never be changed.
Ward realised, with sudden clarity, that if he had paid Nicholas, they would not be doing what they were about to do now. Nicholas would not have allowed it.
Tonight, Ward was going to undress Nicholas and be naked with him and take the man inside his body. The impossible intimacy of it made his head rush, not just because he wanted it so much, but because he knew this was going to be the first time Nicholas had known such intimacy, and that might just be the most astonishing and exciting part of this. That Ward was giving Nicholas something he’d never known before; that he was going to make this thing that had always been, for Nicholas, rushed and tainted by the fear of discovery, into something slow and languid, something to savour. At least, he hoped so. He planned to ready himself thoroughly, but it had been a while since he’d last done this, and he was very aware that there would likely be some discomfort, especially given how inexperienced Nicholas was. So yes, he felt a little nervous, but it wasn’t a fearful nervousness—more a giddy, happy sort of nervousness, like champagne in his belly, ready to pop and overflow.
When they reached the door of the bedchamber, Ward drew from his pocket the large brass key Mrs. Bassett had given him earlier. He felt the weight of Nicholas’s gaze on him as he fumbled it into the lock, all fingers and thumbs, and quickly glanced at the man. Something twisted in his chest to see the easy fondness in Nicholas’s eyes. It was not a look he’d seen on any lover’s face before, that pure, good-humoured . . . affection.
Affection and desire together.
What a breathtaking combination.
“Is the door to the little chamber locked?” Ward whispered, gesturing at it.
Nicholas nodded. He appeared calm and assured, even though he was the virgin here, so to speak.
At last the bedchamber door swung open and they stepped inside. It was barely eight o’clock and, at this time of year, still light out, but with the heavy velvet drapes closed, the room was dark, shrouding them both in deep shadows as soon as Ward closed—and locked—the door behind them.