“We try,” Gwen says, a little bashful all of a sudden, which is an interesting look on her usually proud face. “You and Bobby make quite a good team as well, usually. Though you’re terrible at badminton.”
She releases his arm to take her seat at the long table with its flowing white tablecloth, and James stands, puzzled. Do they know about him and Bobby? Or is everyone just glad they’re no longer at each other’s throats? And more, has he really grown so much that the thought of them finding out no longer fills him with dread?
Or is it more that he feels safe here? That Albert knows, and doesn’t care—and all of them, save Lady Harrington, know about Beth and Gwen, so whyshouldthey care about James and Bobby? He didn’t think he could consider being discovered without panic, but there’s barely an edge to his anxiety as he rounds the table to sit across from Gwen, leaving space for Albert and Meredith to join them as they stroll out of the solarium.
Bobby and Beth reach the table and Bobby plops down beside him dramatically, feigning exhaustion from having his ego so horribly beaten down.
“You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” Bobby declares, looking across at Gwen. He presses his foot to James’ beneath the table, requesting decidedly different restitution.
“You’ll survive,” Gwen says, arching a brow in James’ direction.
“Here, have the larger sandwich,” he says, shrugging as Gwen rolls her eyes. “What, I’m a pushover?”
Gwen snorts and Meredith laughs. “So we shouldn’t leave the babysitting up to you when this one is three years old and incorrigible?” Meredith asks.
James looks over, surprised. “Um, well, I mean, with anactual child, I would certainly try,” he hedges, feeling a flush creeping up toward his forehead.
He watches Beth and Gwen glance around and then share a sticky jam kiss. Watches Albert rub Meredith’s stomach as they lounge, rumpled and comfortable together. Watches Bobby laugh at something his brother says, seeming lighter than he’s been before.
He feels safe here, he decides. Safe and cared about. And it’s lovely.
Lady Harrington swans out of the solarium, waving at all of them as they go to rise and apologize for starting without her. She sits without fanfare and immediately pulls Beth and Gwen into a discussion about this season’s gowns.
“Larger than life,” Bobby mutters, their shoulders briefly pressing together as he leans across James to snag a biscuit.
“But wonderful,” James argues.
“Oh, no denying. But you call me dramatic?”
James meets his gaze. “I call you many things—dramatic is just one of the more appropriate.”
“I’ll need a list of the others,” Bobby says, his voice a shade lower, husky.
James shrugs and forces himself to take a calm sip of his tea. He glances down the table and finds Lady Harrington smiling at him. He smiles back, trying to ignore the sudden gnawing feeling in his stomach. Nothing’s changed. Lady Harrington is marvelous fun, and he’s enjoyed their evenings playing cards. Why should her arrival unsettle him from the comfortable sense of secluded joy he’s been basking in all day?
“We’ll have to send a second carriage with all of your things,” he hears Albert say.
“Mother can bring them with her. I think she’d like to stay here an extra day or two,” Meredith says.
He turns to listen to Albert, Meredith, and Bobby’s conversation, that gnawing feeling gripping at him more firmly.
“You could stay with her,” Albert says, and even James can hear the hesitation in his voice.
“There’s no way I’m giving up a carriage ride with Beth and Gwen,” Meredith says indignantly. “You ride back with her, then.”
“James and I need to be in session on Monday, or I would,” Albert says soothingly. “I want to make this as comfortable a journey for you as possible. And if you want to be squished up with Beth and Gwen, that’s your right.”
“Yes, and we don’t have to wear dress hoops for the journey, that will make it better,” Beth chimes in, smiling over at them before turning back to Lady Harrington and Gwen.
James puts down the finger sandwich he’d been keen on eating just minutes ago. That clenching sensation is joined by a sinking feeling. He knows, of course, that they’re returning home the day after tomorrow. But up until this moment, he’d been doing an admirable job of distracting himself from thinking about it. It’s been a problem for later, for after, for someone less happy, and less calm, and less content. A job for his former self, the one terrified of his stepfather.
A person he’s been trying to tell himself he isn’t anymore.
But the clutch of panic in his chest, the restlessness in his legs, and the choking fear invading his throat are proof that his transformation is far from complete. He is still terrified of what his stepfather would do if he discovered James’ proclivities. Terrified of the ton. Terrified of what happens if they try and keep all of this going—the happiness, and sex, and...feelingshe’s not ready to name—and then the end of the season comes and they all have to separate anyway.
Or worse, what if he lets himself fall hopelessly in love withBobby Mason, and in a few years he has to shatter both their hearts to do his duty to his title, and take the life they would build with all these wonderful people around them out in the cross fire?
Lady Harrington laughs and James nearly flinches. Everything is suddenly off-kilter, and he wants to shake this off. Wants to hold on to the happiness he’s felt here for one day longer, but an all-too-familiar anxiety is roiling in his stomach and he’s not sure he can sit here for another minute.
