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R aoul was surprised when Beller announced that Mr. Warner was at the door. “Is there news?” he asked, as he jumped up to greet his friend.

“Good and bad,” Silas said, as he handed his coat to Beller. Once the valet was out of the room, they embraced, and Silas could not help himself. He began to sob.

“Oh, no, tell me,” Raoul said. “Ezra is not to hang, is he?”

“No,” Silas choked out. He struggled to control his tears as he sat on the plump divan and told Raoul all that had transpired that day. “I need to go home, but I must think about what to say to Ezra before I do.”

“This calls for alcohol,” Raoul said. “I have an excellent apple brandy from Calvados. May I pour you a glass?”

“Yes, please,” Silas said. He blew his nose with his handkerchief and leaned forward on the divan when Raoul handed him an elegant snifter with deep brown brandy in it. He lifted it to his nose, inhaled the fragrance, and then sipped. The liquid forged a warm path down his throat and began the process of settling him.

“Suppose he were to go to France,” Raoul asked. “Would you go with him?”

“What would I do? I don’t even know the language.”

Raoul shrugged. “Be his kept man.”

“I don’t think Ezra would want that. Nor would I. I am too accustomed to looking after myself.”

“Sometimes you must make compromises,” Raoul said. “I went from my father’s house to Father Maurice’s bed, and then at the priest’s direction went to university. I thought I had begun to gain my independence there, but now that I look back I was under the direction of my professors. And then when I came to London, I was Morvan’s man.”

“But you changed. You stood up to him.”

Raoul smiled. “I did. And then I moved in with John.” He waved his hand around the elegantly appointed room.

Silas recognized that it was fancier than Magnus and Toby’s, with fine china on display in a cabinet, rich Oriental rugs on the floor, not a mote of dust anywhere. Far nicer than anywhere he had lived, or had the expectation of living. “And do you see that as giving up your independence?” he asked.

“In a way. This is John’s home, and he covers all the household expenses. Beller is his servant, not mine. I endeavor to pay when we dine out, but sometimes John insists that he simply has more money than I do, so it is more sensible for him to pay.”

“And does it suit you, this domesticity? Do you ever long to feel another man’s cock in your mouth or your arse?”

“I have complicated feelings about sex, as you know,” Raoul said. “The years as Father Maurice’s catamite scarred me in many ways. It is hard for me to find joy in sex—except with John, who understands me. And John had enough of bad usage when he was at school. So no, neither of us long for other men. Do you?”

Silas squirmed uncomfortably on the divan. “I used to feel my cockstand rise every time a man looked at me. But since I met Ezra I can never find a man to compare.”

“And how does he feel about you?”

“We do not talk much, just fuck and cuddle,” Silas said. “Though he did say that he appreciates that I have stood by him and recruited you all to help him.” He took another sip of the warm brandy. With his eyes closed, he could almost imagine those were Ezra’s lips touching his, and he smiled, to think of his lover and someone he could savor and consume.

“I think you are jumping ahead,” Raoul said. “As you said, you have only been together a few months. If he chooses to go to France, that will be his choice. If he does not ask you to accompany him, that will be a clear statement of his feelings.”

Silas’s heart flip-flopped once more. “And what if he does?”

“Then you will have to make a decision. You are new in your career with Pemberton. Do you still want to be his clerk thirty years from now? Do you want to risk losing that career to follow a man’s arse, no matter how comely it is?”

“I was loose with my affections for so many years, and have only been faithful to Ezra for months.”

“Does he expect that?” Raoul asked.

“We have never talked about it. But you and John do not stray, and I don’t believe that Magnus and Toby do either.”

“We are but two couples,” Raoul said. “And we have made our own way. Men of our ilk do not have society dictating what we choose. As long as we are circumspect we are able to make the choices that suit us. You and Ezra must do the same.”

“I worry about all the pressure on him,” Silas said. “From his father, his wife, the boxing organizers and fans, even his co-religionists.”

“And you fear that you will come last in that list?” Raoul asked gently.

“I guess I do.”

“Then you must wait and see what choices Ezra makes.”