Chapter 6 #2
His rational mind immediately balked at the thought, reminding him that George had chosen to come to Redford’s for the first time on the eve of Oliver Fletcher’s wedding.
That was no coincidence. Especially when one considered that—according to Piers—George had been rusticating on his family estate for the better part of a year and hadn’t seen Fletch for months until this evening.
“Ollie and I don’t have anything.”
George’s bitterness had been obvious when he'd bitten those words out. Was he nursing a broken heart? Looking for another man to distract him from his heartbreak?
Theo frowned, disturbed by that idea. He did not entertain romantic entanglements and made as much clear to all his bed partners. But, strangely he did not like the idea of George having romantic feelings for anyone else.
Once the footman had moved away, George lifted his wine glass and took a deep swallow.
When he set it down again, he said, "I didn’t realise that coming here this evening would be so difficult.
” His voice shook slightly, and Theo was reminded of when George was a new boy at St. Dominic’s, so obviously trying to be brave as he was introduced to the other boys at assembly.
“Is it worse because I’m here?” Theo asked. "If so, I’m sorry. But you honestly needn’t worry. As Potter said, all the members here are honour-bound not to speak of who or what they see.”
“I know,” George said. “I’m not worried about that. It’s more that—” He broke off.
“What? What’s the matter?”
“It’s—” He rubbed his hands over his face. “You wouldn't understand. I have waited for this for so long. Too long.”
“Waited for what?”
George dropped his hands and sent him a despairing look. “For this,” he said, a desperate note in his soft voice. “To experience… intimacy, with another man.”
Theo blinked. “But—” he began. “You and Fletch. You were lovers, were you not?”
George’s face flamed. “No,” he said shortly, his gaze sliding away from Theo’s. “We were not.”
Theo stared at him, disbelieving. “But that summer,” he began.
“When I came upon the two of you—” He broke off mid-sentence, struck silent by the distraught expression on George’s face—until George seemed to realise what he was revealing and looked away, composing himself.
For long moments, neither of them spoke.
Then Theo said quietly. “Forgive me. It’s none of my business. ”
After a long moment of silence, George said stiltedly, his eyes on his wine glass rather than Theo, “That summer was the end of anything like that between us—not that anything had really started. No more than what you saw.”
A kiss, Theo thought, reeling. That was all he had seen—a fumbling, clumsy kiss between boys.
George took a deep, shaky breath. “After that, we were only friends. That had to be enough for me. And it was enough, for a long time. Until last year.”
“What happened last year?”
George shrugged. “Ollie was trying to find a wife. He invited me to join him in London for the season, but after a few weeks, he told me I was hindering his chances of securing a suitable young lady’s affections. So… he asked me to leave town.”
Theo stared at him. “He did what?”
“He asked me to leave. And I did.” George shrugged. “I hadn’t wanted to be in town anyway. I was only there because he'd invited me.” He took a sip of wine, setting his glass down carefully on the table. “And then he met Miss Hewitt, and here we are.”
That didn’t sound like the whole story, not nearly.
It certainly didn’t explain why George had suddenly decided that mere friendship with Ollie was no longer enough for him.
Why he was here, tonight, at Redford’s. Theo wanted to probe further, but he wasn’t sure he should, not with George looking so bleak.
“Can I ask you something?” George said quietly.
“Of course.”
George met his Theo’s eyes, his own dark gaze very direct. “After you caught Ollie and I together, did you tell anyone?”
“What? No!” Theo said immediately, insulted by the very idea. “I would never.” As soon the words were out, it occurred to him why George was asking. “Was that why Fletch’s father thrashed him? He found out about you two?”
George’s nodded, slowly. “Sir Joseph discovered us in the same place you did, just a few days later.”
Theo huffed. “I can’t say I’m surprised. God knows you two weren’t being very careful." Then his stomach twisted as realisation dawned. “You thought I told him.”
George flushed and looked away.
Suddenly, everything made sense. George’s coldness this evening when he’d always seemed to like Theo before, despite the way Theo had teased him.
“Listen to me,” Theo said quietly. “I never told a soul what I saw that day, I swear.”
George nodded, swallowing visibly. Eventually he whispered, “I believe you.”
For a while, they were both quiet. Then Theo said, “Why have you only come to Redford’s now? Just before Fletch gets married?”
George didn’t answer straight away. He stared into his wine glass, seeming to consider the question.
At last he said, “Up until quite recently, I had been planning to marry too. I’d persuaded myself that, since that was my intention, it would be wrong to indulge my private urges.
But recently…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath before he began again.
“Recently, some things in my life changed and I began to see my future differently. Or rather, I’m not sure how I see my future now.
I don’t think I’ll know until I understand what this thing I've always desired is like. Even though finding out is terrifying.” He sent Theo a frustrated look. “Does that make any sense at all?”
Theo nodded. “It’s terrifying to do something you’ve always been told is unspeakably wrong. I know very well how that feels. Everyone here does, probably.”
George blinked at him, then glanced around the room, at the various groups of men gathered, as though he was seeing them for the first time.
After a while, Theo said quietly, “Do you want to see the private rooms now? I can show you, or ask one of the footmen to fetch Potter, if you prefer?”
George returned his gaze to Theo. “Would—would you show me?”
In that moment, he looked very like the boy Theo had been so taken with, in that last year at St. Dominic’s. Sweet and appealing and trusting.
Far, far too trusting.
But that was the past. Now they were older and everything was different.
Determinedly, Theo thrust his memories aside.
“Of course,” he said, rising from his chair. “I’d be happy to.”