Page 32 of Your Pace or Mine (Running for the Romance #1)
Darius
W ith Jamie’s big awards show just days away, Darius found himself once again on his way to his family home.
There was little call for formal wear in his day-to-day life, but he had enough of it in his old room that he couldn’t justify purchasing yet another suit.
He knew what Jamie would say if he did. So back home to dear old Dad it was.
On the way, Darius tried to keep up a calm facade for Jamie. That was all it was, though, a facade. He’d never taken a partner home to meet his family before—fake or not, this felt massive.
For his part, Jamie was drumming his fingers on his knee in time to the playlist of show tunes he’d commandeered the aux cord for. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Darius couldn’t help but notice his finger drumming was just slightly off beat, and he wasn’t speaking.
A silent Jamie was unusual enough to spark concern. Darius hoped he wasn’t causing him too much anxiety by bringing him along. He’d done his best to prepare him for the expected formality, but was worried that had just made things worse.
Darius watched Jamie closely as they exited the car, parking on the gravel drive right in front of the grand entrance to the main house.
Jamie’s eyes were almost comically wide as he took in the surroundings.
Before Darius could say anything to reassure him, Selena bounded out of the massive stone arched doorway, jumping onto Darius so quickly he had to lunge to catch her.
“I can’t believe you brought a boy home!” she squealed.
Darius lowered her to the ground and extricated himself from her arms. “Selena, meet Jamie,” he said with a deep sigh.
Selena laughed at him before turning her attention to Jamie.
“I am so excited to meet you,” she said.
“You know Darius has never brought anyone home before, and I know it’s meant to…
” Selena’s embarrassing tirade ended abruptly when Darius shoved his hand over her mouth, which she promptly licked.
Sometimes, Darius was convinced Selena was the more mature sibling, but this was not one of those moments.
“I get it, I get it, I won’t embarrass you in front of your boyfriend ,“ she groused. Selena positioned herself next to Jamie. “So what do you think of our humble abode?”
Jamie grimaced. “I don’t know that humble is the word I’d go for.”
Selena laughed out loud for a moment, stopping short when a figure appeared in the doorway.
There was an inscrutable expression on his father’s face.
His tie sat high on his neck, a perfectly knotted Oxford, and he didn’t leave the doorway as he addressed them.
“You’re late, Son, again. And you’ve brought a guest . ”
“Apologies, I’d like to introduce Jamie Carter, my partner,” Darius replied. He could sense Jamie’s anxious gaze on him.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Grace,” Jamie said, his voice shaking slightly, not a hint of the warm, gravelly edge it usually held.
Darius held his breath until his father nodded. “Indeed. Right this way, dinner has already been laid. You are late, Darius.”
“Traffic,” Darius responded absentmindedly as he took Jamie’s hand.
“At least you drove this time,” his father sighed as he ushered them into the formal dining room.
Selena chatted happily to Jamie as Darius picked at his potatoes, already on the back foot.
Clearly in a mood, the Duke bypassed any niceties and went straight into questioning Darius about his ongoing failure to make the Olympic team.
“It’s completely absurd for that Jennings boy to have taken your rightful space,” his father stated. “You have far more training and consistently better results behind you. Wanting to sell a Cinderella story in the media should not be how we are fielding our Olympic team. Shameful.”
Darius’s head snapped up from his meal. “Jackson deserves all the accolades he gets; it isn’t just because he’s some Cinderella story .”
His father set down his fork and looked straight at Darius.
“If you can’t even make the team with all the advantages I’ve given you, do you really think this,” he gestured to Darius and Jamie, “being public, or your ridiculous plan with pacing the marathon and the charities and whatnot, will make things easier? Perhaps it’s simply time to consider an alternative career, one that would keep you out of the press a bit more. ”
Jamie and Selena had gone silent across the table. Darius could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he shut down again. It seemed, though, that Jamie was tired of listening to his father’s assessment of the situation.
“Your son is one of the most driven, talented athletes in the world, and he could lose out on his dream because of you, your backwards politics, and whatever you did to Eric Anders. That’s what’s shameful.”
Darius wanted to kiss him. No one other than Selena had ever stood up for him before.
“But, of course, you were there to come forward and save his image,” Darius’s father drawled. “How utterly convenient.”
Darius flushed. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Father.”
“Just that you’ve both enjoyed quite the boost in press recently, and Jamie certainly wouldn’t be the first artist to go sniffing around for a convenient title.”
“It isn’t like that,” Jamie replied quietly. Darius attempted to shoot him an apologetic look, but Jamie was staring at his plate. “How I feel about your son has nothing to do with the money or the title or the press or any of it. He’s an amazing man, and you should be incredibly proud of him.”
His father looked taken aback. For a moment, Darius was certain he was going to verbally attack Jamie, and he was preparing to jump to his defence, when the Duke seemed to whither in on himself.
“I am,” he replied. “Of course I am.”
Darius’s eyes snapped up. An uncomfortable silence descended over them.
Though thoroughly confused and emotionally raw, Darius wolfed down the roast beef and potatoes as quickly as he could without being completely uncouth.
When they left the table, he escaped Selena’s questioning glance with the excuse of giving Jamie a tour of the grounds.
Had he been on his own, he would have been beating a quick retreat back to the glorious anonymity of the city, but he wanted to indulge Jamie’s curiosity.
After all, this might be the only time Jamie came here—and wasn’t that a sobering thought?
Once they were out on the grounds, well out of earshot of Darius’s family, Darius leaned in to kiss Jamie, pushing all his thanks and emotions into that single kiss.
“You okay?” Jamie asked, resting his forehead against Darius’s.
Darius shrugged. “I think so.”
He honestly wasn’t sure he could put a name to how he was feeling. It was all muddled up inside him with Jamie’s passionate defence and the quiet, defeated words his father had uttered.
He led Jamie through the gardens, pointing out his grandmother’s roses and the fruit trees he’d loved as a child. The grounds had always been his favourite thing about the place. Sometimes, when he was young, he’d imagined he could run forever through them.
“It’s beautiful here. You must miss it,” Jamie said quietly.
Darius glanced at him. “I thought you’d think it was too much. You called my townhouse a mansion.”
“It is a mansion, by London standards. This… this is another level,” Jamie said. “I guess I thought you’d have more, like, African decor, though? Those corridors felt a bit like touring the National Portrait Gallery with all the dead white guys on the walls.
Darius sighed. “We were never really raised to know that side of our heritage,” he said. “My father wasn’t either, as far as I know. It’s hard to feel connected to a place you’ve only ever seen listed on your family tree.”
“Would you want to? Feel more connected?”
Darius shrugged. “It’s complicated. Lineage matters in the peerage, so it feels wrong not to acknowledge it. What I would like is to be able to connect with some of the Ethiopian runners I know from competition more, but…but I don’t know if I’d… be accepted.”
“Why?”
“Ethiopia is, well… our relationship would be illegal there,” Darius admitted.
It was one more reason he felt shut out from that part of his heritage.
“Plus, I just don’t know any of the social norms. As mortifying as it is, I’m most comfortable at a state banquet or Royal garden party, where I know exactly what the protocol is. ”
Jamie grinned. “Ah, proper titled aristocracy stuff, Marquess Hewitt,” he said with a wink.
Darius groaned. “Please don’t.”
“You sound embarrassed. Why?”
He hesitated. “The title feels wrong when it’s out of context… it isn’t really me. It’s just something I’ve carried my whole life.”
“Like a performance?” Jamie asked gently.
“Exactly,” Darius nodded. “When I was at school, I hated how othering it felt. I didn’t fit in because I had all these extra duties and expectations.
But then, even among other titled families, my family was just an exotic footnote in Debrett’s,” Darius continued.
“I never wanted to represent anyone, deal with politics. All I wanted was to run. And running… it humbles you. The elite level isn’t like Oxford; it’s not just for people with every bit of gear and the most expensive coaches.
It’s for people from all walks of life, people who started with nothing and made it on sheer talent.
Sometimes it’s embarrassing to stand next to them, knowing I could never have done what they’ve done if I’d started where they did. ”
Jamie tilted his head. “I don’t think it’s meant to work like that. You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of where you came from. Nobody should. Privilege is what you do with it, not where it came from.”
“I think… maybe I haven’t done enough,” Darius admitted. “I’m still not. Everything I’ve done—the charity work these past few weeks—it was your idea. Not out of the goodness of my own heart.