Page 28 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish
Perry, poor dear, blinked at Lysander, not seeming to know how to answer.
“Will you be free later today?” Jonny prompted, in an effort to help him out.
“I—uh—I expect so,” Perry said, his tone reluctant.
“Good,” Jonny said. “Just come by whenever suits you. I shall be there most of the day, I imagine.”
Perry gave a nod and said shortly, “All right.”
Jonny saw Lysander glance at Perry and frown, but he said nothing.
Lysander and Perry soon finished eating and took their leave, heading straight for the stables.
Once they’d gone, Jonny looked down at his breakfast. He’d shredded the roll without eating any of it, and his chocolate was untouched, an unappetising skin wrinkling on the surface. He pushed it aside, stomach roiling, and rose from the table.
He felt anxious and unhappy, so to calm himself, decided to go for a long walk around the gardens. He ended up looping around twice, breathing in the scents of the flowers as he slowly ambled. By the time he returned, he felt much calmer and ready to face the Shepherd's Hut again.
When he got there, it was still quite early, and the morning light streaming through the back windows gilded the empty room, highlighting a few lingering traces of the previous day’s events: the sketchbook that Jonny had been working on—left carelessly open on his chair—and the wooden pointer and dark green fabric Perry had been wearing as a cloak, dropped forgotten to the floor.
Slowly, Jonny straightened everything up and collected the pencils he’d discarded in his haste to go to his knees before Perry.
The memory of the day before had him all twisted up with mingled shame and lust and regret. Resolutely, he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind, instead turning his attention to the sketches he’d been working on. There were several of them, but it was the missing one—the one he’d not yet had a chance to draw—of Perry and himself together, that captured his imagination. As a composition it would work beautifully. Perry’s head and shoulders would occupy the top right quadrant of the page while Jonny’s own kneeling frame would take up the bottom left. Their hands would come together in the middle of the page, Jonny’s upstretched arms offering the sword and Perry’s right one reaching out to take it.
Jonny picked up his pencil and began to draw.
* * *
Around one o’clock, Adam came to the hut. He’d brought a basket of luncheon, which they ate sitting on the floor as they talked. Or at least, Adam ate. Jonny still wasn’t hungry. Although he felt calmer now, after several hours of working in silence, there was still an edgy feeling inside him that robbed him of any appetite. In response to Adam’s nagging, he nibbled some cheese and ate an apple. Then he picked up his pencil and spent the next hour sketching his friend, till Adam said he had to go and catch up on his correspondence.
It wasn’t until almost three o’clock that Perry finally appeared.
He knocked at the front door so tentatively that Jonny felt sure he would find a servant on the other side. But when he opened it, there was Perry, his posture defensive, his gaze wary.
Jonny suddenly felt uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He’d been so wrapped up in his own feelings last night that he hadn’t really thought about how Perry felt, and he’d spent the whole day today avoiding thinking about him. But now, faced with the man, there was no more ignoring it.
By the time Perry had left Jonny’s bedchamber last night, he’d definitely gone quiet, and this morning at breakfast, he’d been uncomfortable. By the look of him, he still was.
Was it because Perry had picked up on Jonny’s own uncertain feelings, or did he have regrets of his own? Jonnythoughthe’d hidden his emotions quite well overall. There had been that one embarrassing moment when his eyes had filled up, but it had been quite quick, and afterwards, he’d managed to suppress his usual tendency to cling, recovering his composure reasonably quickly.
Even Stephen could not have faulted him. Much.
Jonny smiled at Perry, trying to appear unaffected.
“Come inside,” he said. “Have you eaten? Adam brought me a picnic, and there’s plenty left over.”
“I had a spot of luncheon earlier,” Perry said, but when he entered the studio and saw the uneaten food, his stomach rumbled, and his face lit up with an endearing blush.
“You may as well eat it, if you’re hungry,” Jonny said. “It’s only going to waste otherwise.”
“I thought you wanted to draw me,” Perry said, still radiating stiff awkwardness.
Jonny shrugged one shoulder. “I can draw you eating,” he said. “It’s all part of—” He broke off. He’d been about to say,getting to know you.
“Part of what?”
Jonny went to the table and started collecting up his sketchbook and pencils. “Part of the process.”
They settled down on the floor, Perry helping himself to some of the picnic while Jonny began to sketch him in an idle way. Since Perry was not trying to stay still like the day before, Jonny didn’t worry too much about details, working instead on capturing those elusive, fleeting impressions that one only really saw when someone was in motion.