George glanced at him. “I was thinking about your uncle and Martin again.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” George said with a half-hitched, rueful smile. “I’ve been brooding over what you said yesterday—that if they were lovers, that means Martin had to leave his home when your uncle died.” He shook his head. “It’s just so unbearably sad.”
“Don’t brood too much,” Theo said gently. “We don’t even know for certain that they were together.”
“I know, I just—I wish I could ask him.” George’s brows were pinched together. “I’ve been trying to think of ways to do so subtly but?—”
“Absolutely not,” Theo interrupted, coming to a stop. “What if you’re wrong? What would Martin make of you asking such scandalous questions? We can’t?—”
George's anxious expression shifted into something that looked more like impatience. “I’m not an idiot, Theo. I wouldn’t just blurt it out.”
“Good. Then don’t,” Theo said shortly. “The least said, the better.”
“Do you really think that?” George said hoarsely. “I’m not sure I do anymore. I keep thinking about how he must feel, grieving the man he spent his life with and not even being able to speak of it. To anyone. I can’t imagine anything more lonely. Can you?”
Theo could only stare at him. George was right—but Theo was right too. Raising the subject would be reckless. For some reason, though, this particular story had struck a nerve with George.
That was when, the words George had uttered at dinner last night came back to Theo.
“I’m tired of being lonely.”
George knew what it was to be lonely, and the realisation made Theo’s throat ache. “I just think we still need to be careful.”
George scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and began walking again. “I know. You’re right.” Silently, Theo fell into step beside him.
After a while, George said, “What was your uncle like?”
Theo shrugged. “Honestly, I barely knew him. I only met him once or twice when I was very young. You could have knocked me down with a feather when I learned he’d left me Blackfriars.”
“How did he come by it?” George asked. “Did he inherit it from someone else in your family?”
Theo’s mouth quirked. “No, it’s quite a story actually. I told you before that he lived in London before he came here, and spent all his days drinking and gaming?”
George nodded.
“Well, one night, he won Blackfriars in a game of Faro. Everyone thought he’d sell the place, but instead he gave up his hedonistic life in town and came here to settle down and become a farmer.”
“Oh my word,” George gasped. “He and Martin moved here so they could be together! That must be it, don’t you think?”
Theo considered it. His mother had told him that everyone had been astounded that Stephen Lockhart had given up his decadent life in town to become a farmer in the back of beyond. If he had come here so he could live out his life with Martin in peace, though, that decision made a great deal more sense.
Theo glanced at George. His gaze was hopeful. Happy. For some reason, the story of these two men—the truth of them—mattered to George, and suddenly, Theo couldn’t think of a single reason why he was expending so much effort denying that George was probably right.
He sighed. “All right, let’s see what we can learn without being too obvious,” he said. “It may be that if we drop a hint or two, Martin will take us up on it.”
George’s smile deepened, and his gaze went soft. “That sounds like a plan.”
His approval settled over Theo like a warm blanket that felt far too good. He didn’t want to crave George’s happiness, or make compromises to win his approbation, yet somehow he found himself doing just that.
When they crested the rise of the hill, they could see Martin’s farmhouse in the valley below. It looked quiet and still, but as they approached the house, they began to hear wild barking and distressed whining.
“Is that his dog?” George said, brows drawing together in concern.
It certainly sounded like it. When no one answered the front door, they hurried around the back of the house.
As soon as they appeared in the farmyard, the collie, Fen, raced over to them, barking like mad, only to wheel around and go hurtling right back to where it had come from.
