Chapter 8
THEO
Theo woke the next morning feeling rather green about the gills.
After George had left Redford’s, he’d fallen into company with some fellows he knew and drunk far too much brandy, before heading home and drifting into the sort of shallow, drunken sleep that left a man drained and exhausted the next morning.
All he wanted to do was roll over and pull his pillow over his head but he had to be at the church in less than an hour. And so, resignedly, he rang the bell for hot water and forced himself out of bed.
Half an hour later, he was clean-shaven, a little more awake thanks to the coffee the footman had brought him, and was looking halfway presentable. He’d be nicely on time too, since the wedding ceremony was taking place at St George’s in Hanover Square, only a short walk away.
He stepped out into a morning that was overcast, the grey and cloudy sky seeming to promise rain.
The dismal outlook did nothing to improve his mood, and, as he strode towards the church, he scowled to think of the day ahead.
The ceremony itself, though a bore, would hopefully be relatively short, but he had no such hopes for the wedding breakfast. Judging by last night’s endless dinner, it would probably be at the more opulent end of these sorts of things and go on for hours.
The very thought made his head ache and his stomach feel decidedly queasy.
There was, however, one person who might ease Theo’s boredom.
George Asquith.
The thought sent a thrill of excitement through him, even as he winced to remember their awkward parting the night before. Which was all the fault of that damned kiss. The unexpected press of George’s lips against his own had thrown him into a stupid panic.
He’d over-reacted, pushing George away like that, but he’d been startled and acted instinctively.
He wasn’t sure why he’d felt quite so panicked, though.
It was true he didn’t go in for kissing with his bed partners, but still.
It wasn’t that he hated it. It was just easier to keep his encounters on the right track that way.
Kissing was… personal. Better to gaze upon a man’s well-muscled back as you fucked him than to stare into his eyes and share his breath.
That way, you got all the pleasure and none of the unwanted intimacy.
Which made it all the more ridiculous to find himself wondering now what would have happened last night if he’d just let the kiss happen.
What would it have been like? Even now, as he remembered those brief moments when George’s lips had briefly pressed against his own, his heart began to race—which was utterly absurd.
Forget the kiss, he told himself, impatiently. Remember the other part instead. The good part when you had George begging you to touch him.
God, yes. Because that had been good. His cock plumped happily at the memory—the weight of George’s body reclining against him, the warm satin of his skin under Theo’s fingers as Theo pushed up his shirt, baring his lean chest and flat belly, the hot, solid heft of his prick in Theo’s hand.
The way he’d gasped and arched and dripped, finally coming apart entirely while Theo worked him.
Perfect, his mind supplied, unhelpfully.
Even then, his mind stubbornly returned to the question.
What would have happened if he hadn’t pushed George away?
Might he have stayed a little longer at Redford’s?
Might they have made plans to return there this evening?
Would Theo have even wanted that? He did not generally bed his partners more than once.
He had realised a long time ago that, for men like him, the best path in life was one that offered uncomplicated pleasures, and nothing more serious.
That was why he went to Redford’s. For straightforward sex with whatever man took his fancy.
He had no desire to form any attachments—in his view, any man who did want that was undoubtedly more trouble than he was worth.
He was fairly sure that was exactly the sort of man George Asquith was.
Sentimental.
George’s expression when Theo had shoved him away had been stricken, and seeing that flash of hurt had made Theo feel like a heel.
He was not fond of feeling like a heel.
“Caldwell!”
When Theo looked up at the sound of his name being called, he realised, with some surprise, that he had almost reached the church. Ahead of him, wedding guests were milling around. Piers was among them, wearing an exceptionally ugly coat in a bilious green colour and waving at Theo.
“Where on earth did you get that coat?” Theo called as he closed the distance between them.
Piers beamed at him. “Do you know, everyone’s been asking me that this morning.”
“I’m not surprised,” Theo said faintly, though, seeing Piers’s pleasure at being the centre of attention, he couldn’t quite bring himself to point out why that was. Instead, he changed the subject. “Will the ceremony start on time, do you suppose?”
“Yes, most everyone’s here,” Piers said cheerfully. “We need to usher this lot inside so we can get started. Help me, will you?”
Together, they gently urged the chattering guests to move into the church, bringing up the rear themselves.
As they slowly moved up the aisle, Theo spotted George, sitting in splendid isolation on the groom’s side.
He’d left several empty rows between the guests already seated and himself, silently declaring himself to be a person of no particular importance.
Theo wasn’t sure what to make of that. Whether to feel sorry for George, or to cheer him on.
“I’ve got to sit on the front row,” Piers said. He didn’t seem to have noticed George. “But there’s room on the row behind if you want to sit there?”
“No, that’s for family,” Theo said. “I’ll sit back here. You go ahead.”
“Right-o,” Piers said brightly, striding off.
For a few moments, Theo eyed the back of George’s dark head, then he set his shoulders back and slid into the pew beside him.
“Good morning,” he said pleasantly, when George turned to him. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you.”
George’s eyes widened briefly, but he quickly schooled his face into that cool mask Theo was already becoming used to.
“Does it matter if I mind?” he said evenly.
Theo raised his brows. “Is that your way of asking me to sit somewhere else?”
“Not at all,” George said stiffly. "This is a church—it’s hardly up to me where you may or may not sit.”
Theo bit back a smile. George was so damned appealing, even when, like now, he was a little on his dignity. Maybe especially.
“You know, George,” he said gently, “you can tell me to sit somewhere else if you want. You don't need to be so polite.”
George frowned at him. “I’m not being polite.”
“Aren't you? Even at school you were a bit too gentlemanly for this world. Especially to boors like me who didn’t deserve your manners.”
“You think you were a boor at school?”
“I know I was. I teased you quite a bit.”
George shrugged. "All the older boys teased the younger ones. It’s just how things were.”
“Still,” Theo said, “If I ever you upset you, I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t upset me,” George said shortly. Then after a pause, he added, “Well, other than that time you hid my copy of The Metamorphosis and couldn’t remember where you put it. I never did get that back.”
Theo’s neck heated. He’d forgotten that particular incident. “You probably won’t believe me,” he said, “but I didn’t tease you to be vile—in my idiot mind I was trying to help you.”
“Help me,” George echoed doubtfully.
“Yes,” Theo said. “You were always a bit, well, prissy. I was trying to get you to be more manly.”
George stared at him, plainly unimpressed with this explanation.
Theo sighed. “Yes, I know. I was an idiot. I just thought you needed to toughen up.” When George remained silent, he added, “I still do, to be honest. People are still taking advantage of you—look at how Hewitt monopolised you last night.”
George scowled at that and looked away, and Theo inwardly slapped his own forehead.
What was he babbling about? He opened his mouth to apologise, but just then, the church began to quiet.
Moments later, the bride and her attendants entered the church and began slowly making their way down the aisle to the altar, where, Theo now saw, Fletch was waiting with Piers.
Miss Hewitt looked very well. Her fair hair was plaited and pinned in an elaborate style, and her dainty figure seemed to float along in a cloud of pink and white, all silk and gossamer. She wore creamy pearls at her ears, around her throat, and in her hair.
When she reached the altar, the Dean began to speak.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this Congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; which is an honourable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church…”
And so it went on, in the old familiar vein.
Unsurprisingly, no one knew of any impediment why the bride and groom ought not to be lawfully joined together, and the bride’s father was, it seemed, only too happy to giveth his daughter to Oliver Fletcher in holy matrimony.
The vows were exchanged, though in voices too low to be heard by any guests sitting as far back as Theo and George.
Prayers followed, then a psalm, then the usual Lord have mercy upon us, Christ have mercy upon us chorus before the Dean droned his way through a short sermon about procreation and spousal duties which made the state of holy matrimony sound even more unappealing to Theo than it had before.
He was more than ready to leave the church by then, but apparently, they had to sit through holy communion as well.
Through it all, George gazed quietly ahead. His expression was outwardly calm, but Theo could sense the tension in him, and see it occasionally too, in the grip of his hand on the prayer book, in the hard set of his jaw.
When all the sermonising was done, the bride and groom walked down the aisle towards the church doors, the bride beaming, the groom carrying a faint air of panic about him.
Fletch looked right at George when he passed their pew.
Theo wanted to look at George too, to see if he was meeting Fletch’s searching gaze, but he resisted the urge, and a moment later, the happy couple had passed, moving on towards the church entrance.
Once the bridal party had left the church, the other guests began to stir, getting up from their pews and strolling down the aisle, chattering amiably.
Theo stood, but George stayed where he was, unmoving. Theo set a careful hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” he said gently. “Just the wedding breakfast to get through now. You can probably leave after you’ve shown face for an hour or so.” That’s what Theo would do if he was in George’s position.
Hell, he still might do that.
George rose to his feet. “I said I’d give a toast,” he said wearily. “So, I’ll have to stay till that’s done at least.”
Theo felt a surge of anger on his behalf. Fucking Oliver Fletcher. He just had to get his pound of flesh out of poor George, didn’t he?
“Well,” Theo said, diffidently, “if it would help to have the company of a friend, I’m happy to stay by your side at the wedding breakfast.” He cleared his throat, adding unnecessarily, “Though I realise you might prefer to be alone than have my company.”
George met his gaze, his dark eyes uncertain as he gnawed his lip uncertainly. Theo felt sure George was searching for the words to refuse his impulsive offer, but in the end, he said softly, “I’d appreciate that, thank you. The truth is, I’ve been rather dreading today.”
The relief and pleasure that washed through Theo at George’s words shocked him.
What was it about this man that affected him so, with his careful thank-yous and excuse-mes?
With his ridiculous, unwarranted politeness in the face of Fletch’s selfish thoughtlessness and Hewitt’s self-regarding monologues.
And, hell, Theo was no better than anyone else with his appalling manners and rotten apologies.
George, though—he was always a consummate gentleman.
Truly, a gentle man. Theo felt an unexpected and wholly unwanted surge of affectionate exasperation at that thought.
All these years since their school days and George hadn’t changed one bit.
He still needed to toughen up. Scratch the surface of that reserved mask and you’d find the same boy Theo had first met all those years ago—sweet-tempered and apologetic and far too liable to be taken advantage of.
Well, not today, Theo decided suddenly.
Today, Theo was going to look out for him.