Chapter 2 #2
Now, though, he forced himself to smile. “All right. Thank you.”
Kit looked briefly surprised, before smiling widely. “I’ll pour you some tea.”
While Kit busied himself pouring George’s tea, then filling a plate for him, George settled into one of the armchairs and began talking to Mrs. Atkins about how things were going with the school. She seemed content to chatter away while he ate and drank.
After a while, Peter got up from the floor and approached Kit, whispering something in his ear. A moment later, Kit was getting out of his chair and joining him on the floor while the boy emptied a box of dominoes onto the rug.
“Peter,” Mrs. Atkins said, a warning note in her voice. “Don’t have Uncle Kit playing dominoes all afternoon.”
“We’ll just play best of eleven,” Peter said, not looking up from his job of turning all the dominoes over so the spots were hidden.
“Best of five,” Kit said, with a chuckle.
“Seven, Uncle Kit?” Peter countered hopefully.
“All right,” Kit replied indulgently, his expression fond.
Mrs. Atkins sighed. Then she returned her attention to George, who was setting down his empty plate. “I hear you have a rather marvellous library.”
“Oh, yes, we’re very lucky,” he replied. “Would you like to see it? It’s just next door.”
Her pretty face lit up. “That would be wonderful.”
They left Kit and the boy engaged in what sounded like an exceedingly competitive game and went next door.
George pointed out the different categories of books and explained how they were shelved.
When she gave a shout of glee at discovering several of Sir Walter Scott’s novels, he insisted she borrow The Bride of Lammermoor, the only one she had not yet read.
Then he pressed her to take The Tales of Mother Goose by Charles Perrault too, to read with Peter.
“I loved this when I was his age,” he said, handing it to her. “I used to read it with my mother.”
Her pretty gaze softened. “You’re very kind,” she said, cradling the books reverently. “I’ll return them next time I visit Kit.”
“No need to rush,” George assured her, smiling. “If Peter’s anything like I was, he won’t be satisfied with reading it just once.”
Later, after Mrs. Atkins and Peter had left, Kit said, “It was very kind of you to lend Clara the books. Particularly the Mother Goose one—I know it must be very dear to you.”
George felt embarrassed by the praise. He did have a distant fondness for the book, but it was the memory, really, that he cherished.
Knowing that Clara and Peter would share what he and his mother had shared was far more pleasing to him than hoarding the book in his library.
“It’s nothing,” he said lightly. “We’re fortunate to have so many books.
You must let Mrs. Atkins browse and borrow some whenever she is here. ”
Kit’s warm, approving gaze made George feel oddly shy. Clearing his throat, he got to his feet. “Well,” he said. “I think I’ll go and find a book for myself now.”
“Before you go,” Kit said, “there was something I wanted to mention to you.”
George stilled. “Oh yes?”
“Yes,” Kit replied. He hesitated, then said, almost diffidently, “You’re off to London tomorrow, aren’t you? For your friend’s wedding.”
“Yes.”
Kit bit his lip. He looked undecided, as though unsure how to proceed. At length, he said, “I gather it’s been some time since you were in town?”
“Over two years,” George admitted, adding with a rueful smile, “I’m not terribly interested in society events. I prefer life in the country.”
“I can understand that,” Kit said. “I have no particular desire to return either. The thought of all that noise and stench isn’t very appealing. Still, it will be nice to see your old friends, I expect?”
George didn’t know what to say. His friendship with Ollie had been so close, that there hadn’t been much room for anyone else.
When the silence stretched, Kit cleared his throat and said, “Or perhaps you could make some new friends when you’re there.
You know, likeminded fellows. In fact, that was…
well, it was what I wanted to mention to you. ”
George stared at him, confused. “Likeminded fellows?” he repeated slowly. It was only as the words left his mouth that it occurred to him what Kit probably meant. Men who preferred men. Like him. Like Kit. “Oh,” he said faintly, his face heating. “I see.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. It probably only lasted a few moments, but it felt like forever, and all the time, George could feel his face getting steadily hotter.
Kit’s gaze was unbearably sympathetic. Tentatively, he said, “I think it might do you good to meet a few gentlemen like yourself. Other than Oliver Fletcher I mean.”
“I wouldn’t say that Ollie and I are likeminded,” George said, acutely aware of how offended Ollie would be by such an implication.
“No?” Kit looked doubtful. “Well, let’s not worry about that—he’s getting married after all.
My real question is, would you like to meet some other fellows?
Because I happen to know of a club you could visit in town where all the gentleman are…
likeminded. It’s very discreet too.” After a brief pause, he added nonchalantly, “I could furnish you with an introduction, if you wanted.”
George hesitated, intrigued despite himself. “Could you?”
“Yes. I know the owner.” Kit darted a mischievous look at George then. “Actually, I used to be the owner. I sold up before I came to live here. It’s hellishly difficult to get in, but I do enjoy certain benefits as the founder. If I send you with an introduction, Jake will see you right.”
“Jake?”
“Jake Sharp,” Kit said. “The new owner.” After another long, uncomfortable pause, he added hesitantly, “It’s somewhere you could meet some other men like yourself and just, well, see what they get up to.
” He smiled at what was probably an expression of utter mortification on George's face, adding, “You wouldn't have to do anything. Lots of men go just to watch.”
George stared at Kit, trying to scramble together some kind of reply, but he didn’t know what to say.
“Tell you what,” Kit said gently in the face of George’s obvious indecision. “I’ll arrange the introduction. You can decide whether you want to go there or not once you get to town. What do you think?”
He thought it sounded absolutely terrifying, but somehow he heard himself say faintly, “All right.”
Even though he couldn’t imagine ever being able to summon up the nerve to go.