Norris smiled, displaying those crooked teeth. “I’d be very happy to help,” he said. And Theo couldn’t help but wonder what his commission must be for him to be so accommodating.
28
GEORGE
George had a busy day, only returning to the house shortly before dinnertime.
“There you are!” Mrs. Ford exclaimed when he entered the kitchen through the back door. “I thought you were only working at Mr. Martin’s farm till lunchtime?”
“I was, but I rode over to Balmouth to do some errands after,” George said, sniffing appreciatively at the delicious cooking scents in the air.
“You must have spent a good while there,” she said. “It’s nearly six.”
George suppressed a smile. Mrs. Ford was fishing in her subtle way, but he wasn’t about to tell her what he’d spent those hours doing, not before he spoke to Theo. He’d visited half a dozen different tradesmen and suppliers today, pricing up works and filling pages of his notebook with information. He’d need to spend a good bit of time going through it all to get his thoughts into any kind of order. He should probably do that before he broached the subject with Theo.
“Something smells wonderful,” he said instead, by way of distraction. “Do I have time to wash and change before dinner? I don’t want to keep the others waiting.”
“It’ll just be Mr. Caldwell and yourself this evening,” she said.
“Mr. Martin isn't joining us?”
“He’s gone to bed,” she replied, lifting the lid off a large pot and giving it a stir. George’s stomach rumbled loudly. “He’s had a difficult day.”
“Is he all right?” George asked, concerned.
“Just tired, I think,” Mrs. Ford replied. “He and I ate half an hour ago, and he could barely keep his eyes open. It’s to be expected, I suppose. He’s still recovering and will be for a while yet.” She smiled at him then. “Go and wash up. Mr. Caldwell won’t mind if you eat a bit later.”
George nodded. “I’ll be back down in ten minutes.”
When he reached his bedchamber, he stripped his clothes off, gave himself a thorough wash, checked himself in the looking glass to make sure there was no mud left on him from his long ride, and hastily dressed again, yanking a comb through his wind-tangled hair before hurrying back downstairs.
Theo was already sitting at the dining table when he entered. He looked up when George appeared, his smile bright and immediate. George’s heart stuttered when he saw his clear pleasure and affection.
“Apparently, Martin’s having an early night,” Theo said, gesturing at the table which only had two places set.
“Yes, Mrs. Ford said,” George replied, pulling out a chair and taking his place. “She says he’s tired. Do you think he’s all right?”
Theo nodded. “I spoke with him earlier.” He looked thoughtful, adding, “We had a good talk actually. About him and my uncle, and how he came to leave me this place.”
“Him and your uncle?” George echoed, raising his brows. “Does that mean…”
“Yes,” Theo interrupted, rolling his eyes. “You were right. Go on, gloat.”
He sounded so resigned, George couldn’t help but laugh. “I won’t gloat,” he promised, “provided you tell me everything.”
Mrs. Ford arrived with their dinner then—a rich mutton stew with fresh-baked bread to mop up the thick, meaty gravy. George, who hadn’t eaten since breakfast, fell on the food like a starving wolf while Theo shared what Martin had told him. The life he and Stephen Lockhart had shared for thirty years, and why Lockhart had chosen Theo as his beneficiary.
“It sounds,” George said carefully, “as though your uncle was hoping you’d be willing to pour your own money into Blackfriars.”
“Yes,” Theo agreed, his expression regretful. “Perhaps if we’d had the chance to talk before he passed away, and he’d learned my money was all gone, he’d have changed his mind about leaving it to me.”
“Perhaps,” George agreed. “It sounds as though his primary concern was for Martin.”
“I think so.” Theo was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse with some raw emotion George couldn’t quite identify. “You were right about them, George. They were…” He trailed off, swallowing visibly. “They truly cared for each other.”
George set his fork down, his appetite deserting him as a lump rose in his throat. Until this moment, Theo had never acknowledged that two men might share anything more than temporary physical pleasure. George was suddenly fiercely glad that Theo could finally see the possibility of it, even if he didn’t seem to want it for himself.
Perhaps that was unfair though. Just because Theo didn’t want George in that way didn’t mean he’d never want anyone. If Theo could at least accept the possibility of love, then maybe, one day, he would allow himself to have it. Even if it had to be with someone else, George would hope for that. He wanted Theo to be happy.
