Tucking it away, the ostler touched his brow. “Do you need help mounting, sir?”
“No, thank you,” George replied, wedging his boot into the stirrup and swinging himself up into the saddle in one fluid motion.
A minute later, Theo returned. “I went to pay the bill, but I gather you already paid. I’ll settle up with you later.”
George nodded and turned his mare towards the courtyard entrance, waiting for Theo to mount his own horse and take the lead, falling in behind him.
Once they were on their way, Theo set a quick pace, and there wasn’t much opportunity for idle chit chat. As the ostler had predicted, the road to Llanberis wasn’t too bad considering how much rain had fallen the night before. Even so, it was muddy in some places, and they had to watch out for ruts and holes on the road, slowing their pace from time to time to avoid any accidents.
The day passed in the usual way, with stops for food and new horses, some hard riding and some easier stints. Gradually, the last vestiges of residual awkwardness between them melted away, and they found their way back to the easy friendship they’d established during the first days of their trip.
For George, it was a relief. Over the last week, he’d come to value this new, unexpected friendship with Theo Caldwell, who had turned out to be a thoughtful, good-natured companion and remarkably easy to spend time with. Somewhat to his surprise, George realised that he wanted to continue their friendship beyond this trip—and he suspected that outcome would be a damned sight less likely if he was reckless enough to repeat last night’s encounter. He knew first-hand the dangers of breaching the limits of friendship and letting himself hope for more with a man who would never be able to give him what he wanted.
17
THEO
On the morning of their mountain climb, Theo woke shortly before dawn. Jumping out of bed, he hurried to the window to check the weather.
The sun had not yet risen, but there was the faintest shimmer of pale yellow on the horizon, just edging the mountain ridges in the distance. Above that line, the sky was a dusky blue, purplish almost. Not quite dawn yet. Most importantly, though, there were no clouds shrouding the tops of the mountains. All in all, it looked quite promising.
Theo strolled over to the sideboard to wash. The inn in Llanberis had had no shortage of rooms so he was in a bedchamber of his own again this morning—as was George, whose bedchamber was at the other end of the corridor.
It was a very different wakening from yesterday morning, when Theo had opened his eyes to find George’s sleeping face only a few inches from his own. The instant rush of simple happiness that sight had provoked had shaken Theo. And then had come the cold-water memory of what they’d agreed the night before—not to speak of what they’d done the next day. To go back to normal.
Whatever normal was.
Theo had scrambled out of bed, doing his best to dress silently, petrified that George would wake before he’d had a chance to collect himself. But George had not awoken, and Theo had managed to escape to the inn’s dining room, where he’d spent nearly an hour staring at his breakfast and telling himself that this was good. Perfect, even. After all, it wasn’t as though Theo wanted more than singular encounters, was it? George had simply given him advance permission to do what he would normally prefer to do anyway—pretend their encounter had never happened. No need for any histrionics on either side.
Except that, contrarily, Theo was finding that he did want to talk about it. He wanted to know what George thought about what they’d done, what part he’d liked best.
If he wanted to do it again.
Hell.
By the time Theo was fully dressed, dawn was breaking in earnest. The pale yellow line on the horizon had become a generous rose-gold glow over the mountains, the dusky purple sky fading to halcyon blue.
Leaving his bedchamber, Theo went to George’s door at the other end of the corridor, and knocked softly. At length he heard the creak of bedsprings, then the sound of someone crossing the floor. When the door opened, there stood George, in nothing but his drawers, his eyes barely open, his dark hair appealingly sleep-rumpled.
“Time to get dressed,” Theo said cheerfully, amazed at how calm and clear his voice sounded when he felt as though his mouth had just gone dry with lust. “I’ll see you in the taproom in five minutes for breakfast.”
“Five minutes?” George groaned.
“We’re making a prompt start on our walk,” Theo said. “I asked the innkeeper to arrange an early breakfast for us.”
“You’re a fiend,” George said, quietly but succinctly, and Theo laughed as he closed the door on him.
Descending the stairs to the taproom, Theo found the innkeeper’s wife sitting in a chair in the corner, knitting. When she saw him, she levered herself to her feet, setting her needles down in a basket at her feet.
“I'm afraid breakfast at this time isn’t up to much, sir,” she told him. “We’ve only just got the fire going in the kitchen. But there’ll be plenty, and I’ve got the provisions you requested for your walk as well, so you won’t go hungry. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll be back presently.”
He did as she said while she lumbered off to the kitchen.
A few minutes later, George wandered in, yawning widely.
“How can you look so awake?” he complained, sliding into the chair opposite Theo. “It’s practically the middle of the night.”
Theo chuckled. “You’re too pampered.”
