Theo added, “We’ve known each other for years. We were actually at the same dinner earlier tonight.” He gave a strained smile, surprised by how calm he sounded when his heart was pounding and his gut churning. “Neither one of us expected to see the other here.”
Potter's smile was sympathetic. “I see. It can be rather uncomfortable when this happens, particularly during a gentleman’s first visit.” He smiled at George. “But it’s nothing to be alarmed about. As we discussed, my lord, our members observe the strictest code of honour, is that not so, Mr. Caldwell?”
“Yes,” Theo said. “It is. Just think, George. Have you ever heard any gossip about me?”
George blinked, then shook his head. “I… can't say I have. To be honest, you’re the last person I would ever have imagined…” He trailed off uncertainly. But Theo knew what he meant. People might hazard a guess about George’s nature, but that never happened to Theo. If he was discreet, avoiding any entanglements and keeping his encounters impersonal, no one need ever know where his private preferences lay.
“How long have you been a member here?” George asked.
“I was a member for two years before I went to the Continent,” Theo said. “And I renewed my membership when I returned to England some months ago.”
George seemed to calm a little at this reassurance. “That’s… good to know.”
Potter cleared his throat, and they both turned back to him. “Would you like to continue with the tour, my lord?” When George merely looked at him blankly, he added, gesturing at Theo, “Or perhaps you would you prefer to take a glass of wine with Mr. Caldwell first?” He offered an encouraging smile, “Sometimes it’s easier for a new member to ask any questions of someone he already knows.”
George’s gaze darted back to Theo. “I wouldn’t want to impose on Mr. Caldwell’s evening. He didn’t come here to chaperone me.”
“No, but I didn’t know I’d see you here. Since I have, we may as well at least take a glass of wine together, don’t you think? I’m certainly very happy to answer any questions you have.” His still-pounding heart and damp palms gave the lie to that confident assertion but he did his best to ignore his own shock. It was the custom here to welcome and reassure any new members. The least Theo could do was try to set George at ease.
George met his gaze. He still looked terrified but also a little relieved. Maybe even grateful. “I suppose—if you really don’t mind.” Glancing at Potter, he added, “And perhaps we can continue our tour of the, um, other area later, Mr Potter?”
“The back rooms you mean?” Theo said, amused when George’s flush deepened. “I could show you around those, if you like? Once we’ve had our wine.”
“By all means,” Potter said smoothly. Turning to George, he added, “Whatever you prefer, my lord. I will be here in the lounge if you need me for anything. Just ask any of the footmen if you cannot find me.”
George swallowed and nodded. Then he glanced again at Theo. “Shall we…?” He trailed off uncertainly, biting his lower lip. Theo’s gaze was drawn to his mouth, to that plump lower lip. When he realised he was staring, he hastily looked away. “Let’s go and sit down.”
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Potter agreed. “I’ll send over a bottle of our best Burgundy.”
Taking hold of George’s elbow, Theo steered him in the direction of a pair of leather wingback chairs in a quieter corner of the room.
As George sank into one of the chairs, he murmured, “Am I behaving oddly? I’m sorry, if I am. I thought I’d prepared myself for the possibility of seeing someone I knew here, but you really are the last person I would have expected.” He glanced up at Theo, who was still standing and attempted a smile, though it looked tight and nervous. “To be honest, I still can’t quite believe it. Do you really—?” He broke off, then added faintly, “With other men?”
“Yes,” Theo said, settling into the other chair. “I’m just rather better at hiding it than some.”
“Oh.” George’s nervous smile faded. “Better than me. That’s what you mean, isn't it?”
Theo felt a stab of remorse, disliking the hint of hurt he heard in George’s voice, and the way his gaze slid away. “I didn’t mean—” he began hesitantly, but wasn’t sure how to go on because… well, that was what he’d meant.
“I understand. You’re not as shocked to see me here as I am to see you. That makes perfect sense.” George’s tone was neutral, his expression closed. But Theo frowned, not liking how unreadable George had suddenly become.
Theo knew what he must be thinking. After all, he and Piers had teased Fletch and George all the time when they were boys. It had been good-natured ragging for the most part since Piers didn't have it in him to be cruel, but Theo had quite often teased George about being fussy or unmanly. Or mocked him for mooning over Fletch.
Towards the end of Theo’s time at St. Dominic’s, he had tried to stop. He hadn't wanted George to hate him. But sometimes, he would notice George staring at Fletch, and some dismissive remark would escape him. Or he’d catch sight of him reading a book on his own and before he knew it, he'd have snatched the volume out of George’s hands, refusing to give it back till George did some dare or agreed to play cricket, or some such thing.
He’d genuinely thought it would do George good to toughen up. To learn how to hide his nature, in the way Theo did.
Glancing up, Theo realised that George was still waiting for a response from him.
“I am shocked to see you,” he said at last. “I would never have thought Redford’s was your sort of place.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not—” Theo broke off, searching for a diplomatic way to say what he was thinking. He’d never been particularly subtle, though, so, in the end, he put it bluntly. “The members of Redford’s don’t come here for what you and Fletch have.”
George’s cheeks immediately heated, and his brows drew together in a glare. Theo was faintly shocked by the bolt of satisfaction he felt at making George’s detached, slightly haughty expression crack.
“Ollie and I don’t have anything,” he said tightly.
