“Has something happened?” Jonathan asked quietly once he was close enough that no one would overhear them.
Charlie said nothing, of course. He watched the footman continue ahead of them, then stared with wide eyes at the gentlemen guests, most of whom were at least casually gazing back at the two of them.
Jonathan glanced over his shoulder and smiled at them, then turned back to Charlie, gesturing for him to walk with him back into the house.
“I don’t know what Brutus was on about, charging us to photograph these men,” he said, keeping his voice as low as possible. “I don’t recognize any of them, by name or by appearance. I struggle to see the point in photographing nobodies.”
Charlie glanced up at him with wide eyes. As they stepped through an open doorway from the garden into a dimmer parlor,his pupils expanded to make his expression look wary and haunted.
“This is not a good place,” he whispered, hugging himself as they crossed the parlor and headed into the hall.
“What?” Jonathan balked a bit. “Fairford House is lovely. Lord Frome gave me a tour of the grounds and gardens earlier. They were designed by Capability Brown, though I don’t imagine you would know who that is.”
They went silent for a moment as they passed a grim-faced maid in the hall, then made their way up a wide staircase to the first floor.
“I don’t suppose we can make any judgments about Fairford House until we’ve at least attempted to fulfill the task Brutus has set for us. There may be more notable guests arriving soon.”
Charlie knew the way to the rooms Jonathan had been given and stepped ahead to open the door for him. He didn’t look at all convinced about simply going about the business of photographing the estate, though.
“Why don’t you think this is a good place?” Jonathan asked as he sorted through his equipment, which Charlie had put away nicely. He loaded a satchel with a box of dry plates and a few of his favorite lenses. It was bright enough outside that they wouldn’t need the flash pan, though.
Charlie took a long time to answer, but to Jonathan’s surprise, he did. “The house is holding its breath,” he said. “There is danger in the walls.”
Jonathan laughed. “My dear boy, I’d no idea you were such a poet.”
The fierce, offended look that flared in Charlie’s eyes made Jonathan momentarily ashamed of himself.
Jonathan cleared his throat and forced himself to be serious. “Where is the danger?” he asked.
Charlie continued to hold his gaze with unnerving intensity for a few more seconds. Just as Jonathan’s back began to prickle with uneasiness, he let out a breath and glanced down.
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s just there. Something is very wrong here.”
Jonathan’s brow flew up. Those might have been the most words he’d heard from Charlie in a single utterance.
A deep part of him wanted to take his sweet boy seriously. An entirely different part of him wanted to believe that the party was nothing more than a gathering of gentlemen. Gentlemen who seemed to find him interesting and worthy of their company, and to enjoy that.
“I suppose the only way to discover more is to do the job we were sent to do,” he said with a shrug, walking over to grab his camera, which was already affixed to its tripod. “And the only way to accomplish that is with time. We move forward with eyes wide open, yes?”
Charlie’s head was still bowed, and his brow was furrowed in dissatisfaction. It pained Jonathan to think that his lad was upset about something, but he wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about it.
Finally, Charlie raised his head to meet Jonathan’s eyes and nodded.
Jonathan shifted his camera into one arm and walked over to Charlie so he could caress the side of his face.
“All will be well,” he said. “You’ll see. We have a mission and days to complete it, and then we will leave. That’s all that’s been asked of us.”
Charlie pressed his cheek into Jonathan’s palm, closing his eyes for a moment as if reveling in the sensation.
His devotion warmed Jonathan from the inside and sent blood pumping to inconvenient places when they needed toreturn to the company of the others. Charlie really was a treasure. He was lucky to have found the man.
“Come along,” he said, pulling his hand back and shifting his camera again. “Let’s photograph some brilliant, Wiltshire countryside.”
He marched over to the door, camera held like a pike over his shoulder. Charlie followed him, but when they reached the door, Jonathan turned back to him.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Charlie,” he said. “I promise that whatever it is about this house that unsettles you, I will keep you safe. If it all becomes too much, we can simply pack our things and leave.”
Charlie breathed out and smiled a bit, which had Jonathan smiling back at him.
