Page 22 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish

“All right,” Adam said without taking his eyes off Lysander. “We’ll say good night, then.”

Once Lysander and Adam had gone, Jonny turned to Perry. “Are you really tired?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.

Perry shook his head.

“In that case,” Jonny said slowly. “Would you… like to come to my bedchamber?”

Perry bit his lip against his smile, but it tugged at his mouth anyway, betraying his pleasure. He cleared his throat. “Um… all right. That would be fine.”

“Only fine?” Jonny teased. He kept his tone light, but in truth he wanted to be sure that Perry really wanted this.

“Sorry, I’m not very good with words,” Perry said. “I do want to come to your bedchamber, though.”

“No need to apologise,” Jonny said gently. “I just want you to be sure.”

“I am,” Perry said firmly. “It’s only that I’m so green about all of this. And I’m not sure whyyouwant to.”

“Are you serious?” Jonny asked.

Perry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Why wouldInot want to?”

“Well, you’reyou,” Perry replied, waving a hand in Jonny’s direction. “And I’m me.”

Jonny stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Look at you—you’re bloodylovely!” Perry exclaimed, his tone frustrated.

Jonny blinked, startled and touched in equal measure. “Well, thank you for the compliment,” he said, “but I feel bound to point out that you’re lovely too.”

Perry scoffed. “No, I’m not! I’m just a big oaf.”

Jonny’s heart ached at that. Perry clearly did not see himself as Jonny saw him. “You’re a big fellow, that’s true,” he replied. “But that’s exactly what I like in a man, so I’m not complaining.”

“I’m not handsome like you—or Zander or Adam. I’m just a plain sort of fellow.”

Jonny glared at that. “Do you know, I think you must be quite blind, Peregrine!” he said crossly. “You may not be as classically handsome as Lysander—but, speaking as an artist, I can tell you with perfect honesty that you have the sort of well-proportioned, symmetrical features that any artist’s model would be delighted to possess. Not to mention your noble brow and strong jaw. And your eyes…” His mouth dried up at this next part, somehow not quite as comfortable speaking his thoughts aloud on this matter—which had nothing to do with his professional judgment as an artist.

“What?” Perry said, his voice a little husky. “What about my eyes?”

Jonny shrugged, embarrassed. “They’re… kind,” he said at last. “You have the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen, I think.”

For a moment, Perry was silent. Then he said, quietly, “That’s what Bella—she’s my sister—always says.” He gave a short laugh, adding, “Though never in front of anyone. She wouldn’t want anyone overhearing her being nice to me.”

Jonny laughed, relieved by the light-hearted comment. “Oh, that would never do!”

Perry smiled. “No one else has ever commented on it, though.”

“No?” Jonny replied. “That surprises me. It was one of the first things I noticed about you.”

For a moment, they were both silent. Then Perry admitted in a quiet voice, “I like that you think that about me.”

“I like lots of other things about you too,” Jonny said huskily.

Perry blinked. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Jonny began, leaning closer and grinning, “such as the fact that your body is so magnificent, you should be prohibited from wearing clothes in public. The ladies—and gentlemen such as my good self—should be afforded every possible opportunity to drool over you.” He winked.