Lyndon scratched at his bristly chin.“I fear the state of my hair and whiskers might frighten our visitors too.”
“Not half as much as the sight of you swinging from the chimney pots.But you might want to…ah…tidy them.Everybody will be congregating in the drawing room soon.It is time we went your bedchamber and spruced you up.”
“I suppose we’ll have to feed them all?And find them beds for the night and so forth?”Lyndon pouted.He wanted his lover all to himself and preferably spreadeagled on the hearth rug.
Chuckling, Rollo clambered to his feet, pulling Lyndon up by the hand.“It is traditional when people have travelled a certain distance to visit a person, yes.It is also traditional that one refrains from taking pot shots at them.But I’ll leave that to you, my lord.As master of the house.”
Chapter Thirty
GOULE HALL DIDN’Tneed a resident ghost spooking its guests, not when a living, breathing Berridge glided about the place like a wraith.As Rollo pulled the door to Fitz’s bedchamber closed, after having escorted him down from the nursery and left his lover strict instructions to bathe, the servant materialised by his side.Rollo jumped five feet in the air.
“Berridge,” he acknowledged stiffly, crumpled cravat in hand.“I was just…”
“Precisely, sir.”
Rollo didn’t need to look down at himself to know his waistcoat was askew.And he knew for a fact his trousers were sagging because Fitz had ripped the top fastening clean off.“I am…um…I am on my way to change for dinner.”
His guilt hung heavy in the air.The scent of Fitz’s release certainly lingered on his skin.
“Very good, sir.”
Berridge stepped aside to let Rollo pass.
“I was just…” Rollo began again, then faltered.Damn it, he’d rescued a man from near death today.He didn’t need to explain himself to anyone, least of all a servant.And anyhow, Fitz’s household were loyal as the day was long, and today had proved to be very long indeed.
“Tell me, Berridge,” he began instead, waving his ruined cravat around as if leaving his host’s bedchamber in a state of undress was absolutely the done thing in smart circles.“His lordship has an unexpectedly full house this evening.I trust Cook is able to rustle something up for dinner?And my father and Mr Angel will require rooms, of course.Adjacent, if possible, as they will be sharing a…um…valet.My brother shall bunk with me, seeing as he still requires some assistance.And am I to understand that the duke and his entourage have also arrived?”
“Indeed, they have, sir.All is in hand.”
With a brisk nod, Rollo marched towards the staircase, resisting the urge to run.As he placed a foot on the first tread, Berridge’s quavery voice called after him.
“Shall I assume that his lordship’s venture up onto the roof to…ah…adjust the loose chimney pot was a success, sir?”
Rollo halted.“A-A loose chimney pot?”
“Yes, sir.”Berridge paused a beat.“Such a dreadful east wind today.It’s no surprise something worked loose.I cannot imagine any other reason for him to have climbed up there, sir.Can you?”
“No,” Rollo replied slowly.“I don’t believe I can.”
“Excellent, sir.I shall report his success to the remainder of the staff, if I may.So that they may sleep more easily tonight knowing all is safe and secure.Sir.”
“You do that, Berridge.And you can reassure everyone that they will not be troubled by…ah…loose chimney pots in the future.No matter how severely ill winds blow.From here on, I shall be personally seeing to it myself.”
“Very good, sir.”
His interaction with Berridge, combined with leaving Fitz to complete his toilette alone,trustinghim to be alone, sapped the remainder of Rollo’s strength.Thankfully, he’d have a moment or two to rest.He found Willoughby all by himself in the drawing room, his leg propped on a pouffe.
“I’ve been stranded here,” Willoughby announced cheerfully.“After all the excitement, Papa and Kit have retired for a ‘lie down’—we know exactly what that entails—and the duke and Tommy have taken themselves on a tour of the grounds.”
Rollo collapsed onto the settee next to him with a sagging groan, as if he’d never rise again.“I’m fagged to death,” he declared.“Saving lives is such hard work, Willoughby.”
“You were incredibly brave crawling all over that roof.What with you so hating heights and all that.”
“I was, wasn’t I?I didn’t even think about it until I was up there.All I could think of was rescuing and talking some bloody sense into my poor Fitz.”
“So brave,” cooed Willoughby as Rollo nestled against him wearily.“And may I also say, so terribly stupid.One slip, and we’d have been scrubbing bloodied bits of you out of the cracks in the cobblestones for days.”
Rollo shivered as if still up on the roof at the mercy of the winds.“It was nothing,” he lied, “for a courageous sort such as myself.”
