Page 4 of The Labours of Lord Perry Cavendish

Adam grinned. “He always does.”

“Lucky you. Where is he now?”

“I decided to let him sleep a little longer—just woke him before I came down. He’ll be getting dressed now, I expect.”

“Tired him out, did you?” Jonny said, with a leer.

“Me and the wheat harvest,” Adam replied dryly, getting to his feet. “Wine?”

“Yes, please,” Jonny answered, draping himself over a chaise longue in a manner that made sure to draw attention to his waistcoat.

Adam did not disappoint him.

“You’re very colourful,” he said as he strolled back to Jonny to hand him a glass of wine.

“I am,” Jonny agreed happily, accepting the glass. He beamed at Adam. “I adore this waistcoat. I look beautiful in it.”

Adam chuckled. “You do,” he agreed, returning to his chair. “It’s very you.”

Jonny smiled down the length of his own body. “It is. I was worried it was a bit much for a simple country dinner, but if one can’t wear one’s favourite things in the company of one’s favourite people, what’s the point of any of it, eh?”

When he glanced at Adam again, it was to find his friend watching him with one of his rare expressions of tender affection.

“I'm glad we’re your favourite people,” he said.

“Psshaw!You knew that already,” Jonny replied, swigging his wine.

“Even so,” Adam said evenly. “It’s nice to hear. And you know the sentiment is returned, I hope. By both myself and Lysander.”

Jonny’s eyes prickled. Stupid, leaky eyes. He sniffed discreetly.

“Now, don’t start crying,” Adam said, but his tone was gently affectionate.

Jonny gave a small chuckle and dashed away an escaping tear. “I’m not crying. I have something in my eye.”

“You always have something in your eye.”

“I do,” Jonny agreed, “I swear particles of dust follow me around, just waiting to swoop in.”

Adam’s laughter was fond.

For a while they sipped their wine companionably. Then Jonny said, “You didn’t mention Cavendish would be here.”

“I didn’t know,” Adam said. “Lysander’s invited him at least a dozen times before, and he’s never come till now.” He glanced at Jonny. “What do you think of him?”

“Cavendish?” Jonny considered that for a moment; then he shrugged. “Well, you know I do like a big, handsome lout.”

Adam eyed him for a moment. Then he said, “Perry’s a big chap, it’s true, but he’s not a lout.”

“No? What’s he like then?” Jonny studied the fingernails on his right hand, pretending unconcern, but the truth was he was curious as to how Adam would answer. Jonny might only have met Cavendish for a few minutes earlier, but he’d been oddly charmed by him and, yes, a little intrigued by the man’s blushes.

“He’s not the most elegant conversationalist,” Adam said. “And so far as I can make out, he seems to spend his time mostly prize fighting and drinking—at least when he’s in town.”

Jonny raised his brows. “But you say he’s not a lout?”

“I do say that,” Adam said, chuckling. “He’s actually quite sweet. And when it comes to men, totally inexperienced. He had a bit of atendrefor Lysander for a while, but he never acted on it, and from what I can gather, there hasn’t really been anyone else. Maybe a bit of fumbling, but that’s about the extent of it.”

Jonny set one hand over his heart. “Are you telling me that Cavendish is a virgin?”