“Regarding—well, regarding what he likes in the bedchamber,” George said, flushing.
“He told you this?” Theo pushed.
“Yes,” George sounded a little exasperated. “He likes women in his bed, not—not the other.”
“Excuse my bluntness,” Theo said lightly, “but I’m not sure I believe that. Fletch used to hang all over you at school, and he was jealous of anyone you so much as spoke to. He left no one in any doubt that he considered you his. He was always putting his damned arm around your neck.”
George shook his head stubbornly. “That's just his way. It doesn’t mean he wanted me.” He looked a little ashamed. “I should have accepted it the first time he told me, but I thought he was saying it because his father—” He stopped, swallowing hard.
“Because his father thrashed him?” Theo asked bluntly. “What exactly did Sir Joseph see when he discovered you?”
George closed his eyes briefly. “It was almost nothing,” he whispered. “A stolen kiss behind the stables after we’d been swimming in the river. But we were just in our breeches, carrying our shirts while we dried off.” He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. “I’m sure it looked more debauched in his eyes than it was.”
Theo’s gut clenched at the thought of Sir Joseph’s response. After a moment, he said, “I take it he was angry?”
George’s expression was bleak. “He was incandescent. Even so, I didn’t imagine he’d beat Ollie quite so viciously. He sent me back to the house to pack before he did it, and I just obeyed him. I only learned what had happened when I was sitting in the carriage, waiting to leave, and I overheard one of the grooms telling someone that he and another servant had had to carry Ollie back to his bedchamber after.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Theo said. He meant to say it gently, but it came out exasperated.
“But it was, you see,” George insisted. “I initiated that kiss. We were on our way back to the house when I pushed him behind the stables.” He swallowed. “We were laughing.”
Theo didn’t know what to say. At last he asked, "What happened when you returned to school after the summer?”
“Ollie told me he’d made a mistake in responding to my overtures and that he preferred girls. I didn’t really believe him at first, but, regardless, in the end I agreed that we’d never do anything like that again. With each other or anyone else.”
“Anyone else?” Theo gaped at him. “Why would you agree to that?”
George considered that for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I truly believed we’d both get married one day. I thought that indulging in my preferences wasn’t compatible with marriage. Not the sort of marriage I wanted.”
“What sort of marriage was that?”
George’s mouth twisted into a rueful half-smile. “A real one, with a family, and both parties fully committed. One with a strong foundation of respect and love.”
Theo’s chest ached at the wistful note in George’s voice, and at something else—the idea of George with his perfect duchess and their brood of perfect children. He would be a good father, Theo thought. Patient, kind. Attentive.
And then he remembered what George had said the other night in Redford’s.
“Up until quite recently, I had been planning to marry too…”
When had George given up on that dream?
They were turning onto Curzon Street now. George began to slow his pace and, a minute later, came to a stop outside one of the houses.
“This is your house?”
George nodded. “My sister’s actually. Though she and her husband are not in town presently.”
It was time to part ways, but Theo found he was reluctant to do so. “Will you be staying in town for a while?”
George shook his head. “I don’t think so. It involves too much fending off of marriageable young ladies. What about you? When do you leave for Wales?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Theo said. “My only regret is that I can’t fit in another visit to Redford’s before I go.”
George blushed hotly, and Theo felt a strange pang of affection at the sight. He had to suppress the inexplicable urge to lift a hand and touch George’s pinkened cheek, just to know how warm it felt beneath his fingers.
Suddenly, he realised that he didn’t want this day to end. He didn’t want to walk away from George—not without some kind of plan to see him again. It was so very far from his usual feelings that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, or what words he needed to say to make that happen.
“If not town for you, then what?” he asked, inwardly cringing at his own, surely obvious desperation to keep the conversation going.
