Together, they carefully lifted him, George talking soothingly as they carried him into the house and laid him down in that spartan bedchamber, tucking the blankets around him. The bed was only big enough for one person, the mattress plainly stuffed with straw, the sheets roughly homespun. It could not have been more different from the luxurious four-poster bed he’d slept in at Blackfriars with its fine linen sheets and velvet hangings.
It was some time before Morgan arrived with Doctor Carr, an impatient, tired-looking man. After hearing Theo’s brief explanation of how they'd found Martin, he disappeared into the bedchamber to examine him while the other men waited outside.
When he emerged a quarter hour later, he was frowning deeply.
“I think he may have had a mild apoplexy,” he said. “Perhaps it happened when he was on that ladder, and he hit his head when he fell off—he’s certainly got a lump at the back of his head, though I don't think he’s fractured his skull, thankfully, or any other bones. His ankle looks bad, though. Swollen. Could be a sprain.” He paused, sending Theo and George a speaking look. “He's exceptionally lucky you came here and found him.”
“Will he be all right?” George asked.
The doctor shrugged. “It’s difficult to know. If it's just a concussion, he’ll probably recover within a few weeks at most. If, as I think, it’s an apoplexy, even a mild one, it could be quite a bit longer.” He frowned then. “I gather he lives alone? He won’t be in a position to look after himself. Do you happen to know if he has family?”
“Not that I know of,” Theo said. He glanced questioningly at Morgan who shook his head, his expression troubled.
“What will he need help with?” George asked.
“If it’s an apoplexy, more or less everything, certainly to begin with,” the doctor replied. “He was able to move a little when I examined him, but his left side isn't as responsive, and his speech was bad, though he did seem to understand what was going on.”
“What do you mean when you say more or less everything?” George asked.
“I mean that he’ll need help with all the essentials,” the doctor said. “Eating, washing, dressing and so on. It’s impossible to say how long that might go on for, and the extent of any recovery is uncertain. There’s no question of him being able to deal with harvesting this year.” Glancing at Theo, he added, “You may need to consider getting a new tenant, Mr. Caldwell.”
“Absolutely not!” George broke in. Without waiting for a reply from the doctor, whose gaze was moving between Theo and George uncertainly, George turned to Theo and said, “We have to help him, Theo. We can move him up to the main house to be nursed, and I’ll take care of things here while he recovers—I can stay on as long as you need me.”
“I can help too,” Morgan put in. “I know what animals and crops Mr. Martin has, and we usually help each other at harvest time anyway.”
George smiled warmly at him, then turned back and gazed at Theo, waiting for his answer.
Hell. There was no way out of this, was there? Not that he wanted to get out of it precisely, but it was obvious this situation was going to tie him to Blackfriars for God only knew how long. And for a man who’d spent his entire life avoiding ties and responsibilities, that was a daunting thought.
George didn’t seem to see Theo’s uncertainty. His gaze was hopeful and trusting, as though he believed implicitly Theo would do the right thing.
And really, there was no question of disappointing George. Theo couldn’t bear to see how his expression would change if Theo failed to meet his expectations. Couldn’t bear to be diminished in George's eyes.
So, in the end, he pushed his misgivings aside and turned to Morgan. “Do you have a cart we could use to take Mr. Martin up to the house?”
27
THEO
One month later
The sound of someone moving around the bedchamber prodded at Theo in the depths of his sleep. He woke slowly, gradually, momentarily confused when he opened his eyes. The shaft of sunlight piercing the drapes was bright, and he had to blink a few times before his vision adapted.
George was in the middle of the room, bending down to rescue his discarded shirt from the floor, his gaze flicking to Theo as he straightened.
“Good morning,” he murmured, a tiny smile just touching the corners of his mouth. “Sorry I woke you. I was trying to be quiet.”
Theo smiled back, helplessly. “I’m glad you did. Come here. Kiss me.”
George gave a soft huff of laughter. “I see what you’re up to, but I’m afraid I need to leave—I’m meeting Morgan in half an hour.”
“Half an hour’s plenty of time,” Theo said, levering himself up onto one elbow, enjoying the way George’s gaze immediately dropped to his chest, his teeth sinking into his lip as Theo displayed himself shamelessly.
It was astonishing, really, how easily he and George had drifted into this effortless intimacy over these last weeks. But with George, everything was easy.
“You look beautiful, lying there,” George said softly, moving towards the bed.
“You’re most welcome to join me,” Theo said, shoving the bedsheets aside to reveal the rest of his naked body, his eager, bobbing cock.
