Page 17

AFTER A night of little sleep, my thoughts occupied by the sensation of Rudolph’s lips against my own, I was in a dreadful mood.

I took tea before I went down to breakfast, hoping it would give me a much-needed boost, but by the time I reached the dining room and took my seat all I had accomplished was achieving the clarity that I had kissed a future lord in the garden of Ashford Hall the night before.

When I had met Rudolph in the garden, I hadn’t anticipated that his words would be in the pursuit of convincing me to see him as a viable romantic partner.

For two weeks now, my eyes had been firmly on Arthur in terms of interest, and now I had a man I’d known for less than a day telling me to pay him attention instead.

Rudolph Nelson was handsome, and I had done more with men I’d known for less time, but the thought of turning away from Arthur, particularly after the way he’d looked at me by the lake yesterday, was almost impossible to consider.

The fact was I found Arthur Ashford a far more intriguing possibility, a damaged man who nevertheless deserved love, and if I could unlock that part of his heart, I knew it would pay off.

That didn’t make the morning any easier, nor did it make me feel particularly good about facing the two men I was feeling so conflicted about.

When I entered the dining room, though, I found that Rudolph and Charles were in animated conversation.

I caught Arthur’s eye, the man sitting listening to them at the head of the table, and when he looked at me, I could see the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes and knew that Rudolph’s question of my interest in him over Arthur was not one I could answer easily.

I sat down alongside Ida, who was looking similarly amused, and spoke to her in a stage whisper. “What is the argument this early in the morning?”

“I’m not sure even they know,” Ida said, shaking her head.

“This is a bad habit our fathers instilled in the two of them, ostensibly to keep them occupied at parties, but they never outgrew it. One of them picks a topic, and the other debates them on it until… well, I suppose until they decide they’re finished. ”

“That… explains a lot about Charles,” I said.

Charles had always been a hearty debater, the sort of man who never backed down from an argument, and I had seen firsthand during the course of our friendship that he would defend a position until the end.

Usually, the position was that I shouldn’t be the victim of whatever vitriol I was currently enduring, but there had been a few times where I had been on the other end of the argument and had seen his persuasiveness for myself.

It made us a formidable pair, considering how neither of us would let an argument end naturally. “Your fathers instilled this in him?”

“Believe it or not, but Charles was quite shy when he was a child, and Rudy was damned near mute,” Arthur said, and I was surprised to find that he had leaned across to me and begun to pour tea into my cup.

The simple gesture touched me deeply, my heart twisting up in my chest, and I wondered what it meant that the head of the household was deigning to do this for me when I could see a servant already in the room.

“This was an exercise in opening them both up, and it clearly worked.”

Abruptly, the debate stopped, Charles laughing in that way he had that spoke to his complete lack of self-consciousness.

“You win, Rudy,” he said, grinning across at the man before turning his attention to me.

“You’ll have to join our debate tomorrow, Tom.

We should see if your debate skills have been honed by your law practice. ”

“I should hope so,” I said, touching Arthur’s wrist lightly as he finished pouring the tea, a small bit of gratitude, and he looked at me with surprise, his green eyes bright in a way that I hadn’t seen before.

Rudolph’s warning the night before had not fallen on deaf ears but rather had heightened my feelings, had made me realize that if Rudolph had recognized my attraction so quickly, it meant that I had been ignoring it for longer than I had known.

I had confirmation of who Arthur was at his core now.

He liked men, and from there it was easy to convince myself that he had an interest in me.

There were signs of it, of course. His apathy towards me had turned to friendship quickly, and I knew that I looked like Rudolph, although I was still convinced at the time that I was a pale imitation of Rudolph—even though that idea had been somewhat challenged by the events of the night before.

I will not pretend I was some blushing virgin, that I had not had my share of men who I knew no more about than that they had looked at me across a dark room with those eyes, but having a brief one-night tryst was far different than whatever was happening at Ashford Hall this summer.

However badly the romantic side of my mind was excited by the idea of having two noblemen interested in me, however, the logical side was unmoved.

To Rudolph Nelson, I was an exciting new toy, an interloper in a close family relationship he’d had since birth and an easy man to take as a summer lover.

To Arthur Ashford, I was his brother’s best friend, a nuisance turned something else, and I highly doubted that he viewed me with romantic intentions as much as he had just grown comfortable with me.

Misinterpreting these feelings could very well lead to a downfall of the worst kind, and I had to be cognizant of my position in this house.

That Arthur had not pulled away when I had touched his wrist boded well, but I could not pretend to know what a man of his standing thought when he looked upon someone like me.

That breakfast was the first of a long string of pleasant days spent at Ashford Hall.

June faded into July, the heat grew, and despite my growing comfort with the Nelson siblings and both Ashford men, nothing came to pass between myself and Arthur nor between myself and Rudolph after that first night.

I threw myself into my work in the mornings, spent my afternoons and evenings lazing about with Charles or swimming with Rudolph or reading with Ida and thought that if nothing else, it would be a pleasant summer spent among pleasant people.

My conviction that I was unlocking something in Arthur was put aside and I was, for a time, happy merely to be among such company.

On August 17th, nearly two months after the Nelsons had arrived, I was sitting in the garden with Ida, Charles, and Rudolph, sprawled out on a picnic blanket and reading through a file of notes that had been delivered to the estate when Felix appeared, his cheeks flushed pink as though he had been running.

We all looked at him, Rudolph’s brow knit in concern. “Is everything all right?”

“I’m dreadfully sorry,” Felix said, and his eyes were on me. My stomach plummeted and I sat up, looking at him. “There’s been a messenger just now, Tom. From London.”

“Oh no,” I said, pushing to my feet. “I told them only to send a messenger if it was truly important.”

“He’s brought a carriage to take you back.”

My eyes went wide, but before I could speak, Charles had done so for me. “To take him back? To London? Whatever for?”

“It seems there’s been a development in one of your cases that requires your presence,” Felix said, wringing his hands. “He mentioned something about a trial being moved up.”

“He’s out front of the house?” I asked, giving the rest of the group a hasty apology before following Felix out of the garden. “Thank you for getting me so quickly.”

“I got the impression he wanted to leave right away to return you to London on time,” Felix said. “I’ll let you speak with him, but would you like me to pack you a bag?”

“I think that will be necessary, unfortunately,” I said, sickened at the thought of leaving Ashford Hall so quickly but knowing that I could not ignore a summons from the city, particularly if a trial was at hand.

“Pack just enough for a month, Felix. I have no intentions of leaving for the summer yet.”

“I speak for all of us when I say that if you don’t return, our summer will be immeasurably worse,” Felix said, pausing as we reached the front drive, a carriage sitting in front of the steps and a young man hovering near the front of it. “I’ll put your bag together for no more than a week.”

He turned to leave and I reached out, grabbing his sleeve. Felix looked at me, surprised, and I was surprised by my action as well before I realized exactly why I had done it. “Where’s Arthur?”

“In the library,” Felix said. “Good point. You cannot leave him without saying goodbye.”

“Thank you,” I said, and with that he hurried off again, leaving me to approach the carriage driver.

“Good afternoon,” I said, and the man, who couldn’t have been more than twenty and who I vaguely recognized as a clerk at the firm, looked momentarily startled before he realized I was no doubt the man he sought. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, Mr. Whitmore,” the clerk said, half bowing in an entirely unnecessary way. “I’m so, so sorry to interrupt your holiday in this way. The trial for Mr. Landry has been moved up to Wednesday and we desperately need you in London to act as his defense. I’m here to take you back.”

“I see,” I said, furrowing my brow as I considered this. “He was supposed to be tried in October.”

“There was a change in judge, so they moved the date,” the clerk said. “We need to leave within the hour, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“All right. Give me some time to tie up loose ends here, and I’ll be ready to leave,” I said, already heading up the steps. “Get one of the stable boys to change your horse for you, and get lunch for yourself, yes?”