Barely intelligible words escaped between choking sobs. “I don’t want to leave! Got… no place to go!”
Surprising himself with his own strength, Alfred pulled the frail man from the chair and onto the bed. He enfolded Bernard in his arms and rubbed lulling circles on a bony back. “Shh. Why do you think you’d have to leave?”
Again he listened carefully to hear the words through the force of pitiful crying. “I’m too old! I can’t… can’t do my job anymore. I’ve outlived my usefulness, and I… I have no family left with time for me, save one great-niece, and you and your nephews.”
“What do you mean, you can’t do your job? I’m not questioning your work performance,” Alfred assured the distraught man. “I merely wondered if you’d like to retire and do what you want to for a change.”
“I… I’ve been doing strange things. I find myself in places… I don’t know how I got there, or why I’m there.” The wracking sobs eventually began to subside, though still frightening, particularly as Bernard never exhibited such behavior before. “You clearly told me to put Paul upstairs, but I forgot. I… I’ve moved things around and I don’t know why.” With a final wail for good measure, he added, “And Iamdoing what I want to, sir!”
Alfred chuckled softly and crooned, “It’s all right, Bernard. Memory loss and misplacing things comes with getting older. The same things happen to me all the time. In fact, I’d be totally lost without you to keep my life organized.”
His attempts at comfort only inspired louder sobs. Realizing Bernard needed to get the stress out of his system, Alfred held him close and rocked him, patiently waiting out the storm. When the heartbreaking cries reduced to weak hiccups, he resumed the conversation. “Bernard, I’d like to offer you a new position.”
Watery, suspicious eyes rose to meet his. “A new… position?”
“Yes. Think of yourself as butler emeritus, if you will. It’s come to my attention that I need to hire new domestics.” He quickly held his hand up to discourage more tears. “No, hear me out. You’re the best butler and the best friend a man could ever ask for, and I speak for Byron as well as for myself. What we’d have done without you, I shudder to think. However, we need to be totally honest with each other. My time is coming to an end.” Again Alfred raised a hand to cut off protests. “Deny the facts all you want; you know it’s the truth as well as I do. My only regret is that I couldn’t live to the end of my days with Byron at my side.” A bittersweet smile crept across his face. “I suspect we won’t be separated long.”
Holding Bernard’s gaze, he explained what he had in mind. “I want you to train new staff and prepare them for the day when this house will have new masters.”
“Masters?” From behind lined lenses, Bernard watched him closely, expression wary.
“Yes, Bernard: masters. This house will be the joint property of Alexander Martin and Paul Sinclair upon my death. I’ve added a stipulation that you continue to live here for as long as you like—as a retired family member, not a servant. I’ve been putting aside a fund for your retirement, and for the other employees of this house. It’s quite a tidy sum, even by my standards.”
“Why?” Bernard’s eyes widened with surprise.
“Because you’re as much a part of this family as anyone and….” He winked conspiratorially. “I want you to keep an eye on the boys. Would you do that for me?”
Bernard replied without hesitation, “Anything for you, Alfred.”
“I was hoping you’d agree.” Alfred smiled and kissed his old friend’s balding head. “What say the two of us go out to breakfast and hash out the details, shall we?”
A faint tinge of pink crept up Bernard’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir! Your breakfast is ruined.”
“I’m sure Martha made me a lovely breakfast, too, and entirely healthy, as usual. This morning, I’m craving bacon and eggs for a change. Here, take this back to the kitchen while I shower and dress. Have Isaac bring the car around. We’ll leave in half an hour.” Alfred reluctantly untangled himself from his friend’s embrace. Even if they weren’t Byron’s arms, the physical closeness of another body had been nice… while it lasted.
BERNARDimmediately missed the warmth and comfort of being held close, something he’d rarely experienced in his life, and never from his gay employer, who’d always taken meticulous care to avoid intimidating his heterosexual employees.
He rose from the bed and gathered the now cold breakfast tray, realizing he still hadn’t answered Alfred’s question. In light of their conversation, revealing his age seemed unnecessary. Alfred’s houses were all he remembered of his life, all he wanted to remember. The time before hadn’t been happy. Now, he’d get his wish to live the remainder of his life where he felt needed, where he felt he belonged. What a tremendous relief not to be dismissed out of hand for the inability to perform his duties with the efficiency he’d once prided himself on.
Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to go to Paul’s room consumed him, though he knew Paul was currently at the funeral parlor visiting with his uncle. Returning the tray to the nightstand, Bernard listened closely for the sound of running water. He couldn’t say why it felt important that his employer not discover his plans. Relieved to hear a rumbling baritone emanating from the shower, singing the familiar strains of an old love song, he crossed the hall and quickly retrieved the item he sought.
Once he’d arranged the article on the bed, he returned the tray to the kitchen, humming along with Alfred’s tune.
“UNCLEAlfred?” Alex rapped his knuckles lightly against the door before entering his uncle’s bedroom. Singing from the bathroom inspired a chuckle; he recalled times he’d heard that particular ditty before, sometimes blended with Byron’s tenor. They’d sung together like they’d lived together—in perfect harmony for the most part, with enough sour notes to keep things interesting.
Apparently, now wasn’t a good time for a visit. As Alex turned to leave, a splash of bright color caught his attention. Sparing a glance to the closed bathroom door, he crossed the room to investigate the scrap of blue cotton contrasting starkly with the pristine white sheets of the unmade bed. He squinted before reaching out to pick it up, recognizing the offending garment as too small to belong to his uncle. He’d seen it before, and not long ago.
Anger burned through him, and he flung the damning evidence back where he’d found it. So his suspicious were true. Far from being upset about Byron’s demise, Paul had taken full advantage of the situation, wasting no time in taking his uncle’s place in the man’s own bed.
The flames of rage were further fanned when Alex’s active imagination supplied images of two bodies, one old and withered, that he tried to block, the other young, firm, and wanton, writhing together on the sheets. While he’d been out, leaving his uncle unattended, the conniving opportunist had made a move. Well, it certainly wouldn’t happen again. Until he managed to convince his uncle to kick Paul out on his manipulative ass, Alex needed to stand guard.
An unbidden image appeared in his mind of that same ass wearing the thin covering now lying rumpled on the bed. Alex frowned. It had been past midnight when he’d seen Paul dressed in these, leaving the room. He must have returned later. What was he trying to do, give the old man a heart attack?
After a moment, clarity dawned. Yes, that was exactly what the young slut wanted to do. As open as Alfred was, Paul undoubtedly knew about the heart condition and planned to use the knowledge to his advantage. Well, he wouldn’t get away with it.
The sudden quiet alerted Alex that his uncle’s shower had ended and he was about to be caught snooping. He gently closed the door behind him, hastily retreating to the privacy of his own quarters to fume and plot against the man most certainly using his considerable charms to secure a hefty chunk of Alex’s family’s fortune.
While he dressed for Byron’s funeral, his resentment for Paul grew.
