Chapter 10
KAI
Standing at the window of my bedroom, I can see across most of the gardens, but I’m not admiring them, I’m watching Jason.
He’s digging over one of the flower beds, his broad back bending and straightening.
I can’t quite see his muscles flex from this distance, but I can imagine them every time he lifts the fork and then thrusts it into the ground.
Watching him work has become one of my favourite activities over the last week—that and talking to him.
Yesterday was the longest conversation we’ve had so far.
I enjoyed hearing about his family, and the love he has for them.
A little pang shoots through my heart at that.
I never had that growing up, and certainly not as an adult—people to share your life with, who look out for and care for each other.
I think that’s why I said I wanted to go to a football match.
I don’t know if I’d actually like the game, but the camaraderie and belonging .
. . it sounded so perfect I wanted to be a part of it.
As soon as the words were out I’d regretted them.
I’d taken in Jason’s puzzled frown and realised I’d sounded needy, and why would he want a lonely guy like me tagging along with his family?
Embarrassed, I practically ran away. But today I hope he’ll have forgotten when I try to talk to him again, because the other nugget of information I got from him yesterday was that he’s single.
I don’t know if he’s gay or bi or whatever, but I’m hoping to find that out too.
Of course, I’ll have to think up another lame excuse to talk to him.
I wonder if he’s noticed those yet. He never tells me to go away, or that he’s too busy, but maybe he’s just being polite.
Either way I’ll head out there later, when I know they’ve had their tea break.
I’ve started to learn the routines of this house, which brings some comfort that it runs so smoothly.
A knock at the door makes me jump and I shout out, “Come in.” Jones enters carrying a package.
When I first arrived, Jones would walk into the room and nearly give me a fright each time.
But also, and even worse, was the lack of privacy, thinking I could be disturbed without warning.
I quickly enforced a rule that he could walk in if I buzzed, but if not he had to knock and wait.
“There’s a parcel for you, sir,” he says, putting it down on a table. Good, I was expecting it, an addition to my act on For my Fans. “And Mr Nagle is here.”
“Here? Did he say he was coming?”
“I don’t believe he did.”
“I wonder what he wants. Where is he?”
“I’ve put him in the west drawing room.”
“Thank you, Jones,” I reply.
“Will you want some refreshments?”
“Yes, why not. But give it fifteen minutes.” I see him raise an eyebrow at that, because normally they’d be served more promptly.
“I want to open my parcel first. Mr Nagle can wait.” He gives a small laugh as he exits.
I’m glad he finds it funny, but in reality I’m a little uneasy as to why Mr Nagle is here without arranging it first. I want to buy myself some time as well as sending him a message that if he’s going to do that, he can wait until I’m ready.
I find some scissors and slit the tape on the parcel.
I take out the carefully wrapped items and undo them, lining them up beside each other on the table.
Three glass dildos, all different shapes and sizes.
LegacyinLace is doing well. After making five thousand on the first day it’s been growing at a good rate.
I have just over twenty thousand followers and so far I’ve made nearly two hundred thousand pounds in a week.
On one hand it’s a huge amount of money, but I need thirty times as much to save the hall.
I don’t have thirty weeks left to do it, so I need to work harder.
The video I uploaded yesterday, with me wearing the stockings and gloves, has been viewed almost as many times as the first few combined, so it’s clear the viewers like to see anal action.
I’m going to do a video later and tease with the dildos, then people can pledge money to see which one they want me to use.
The one that gets the most money pledged will be used in a video in a few days’ time.
Leaving them on the table, I walk past the window again but can no longer see Jason. Sighing and hoping that whatever Mr Nagle wants doesn’t take up too much time, I make my way down to the drawing room.
“Ah, there you are.” Mr Nagle’s tone holds a hint of impatience, and I wish I’d kept him waiting longer.
“I had some business to attend to and I wasn’t aware you’d made an appointment,” I say pointedly, and I see his jaw tighten. He knew what he was doing, perhaps hoping to catch me unprepared. Then his face relaxes and he gives what I assume he thinks is a kindly smile, but it looks false to me.
“And how is it going? I didn’t actually expect you to live in the house once you’d put it up for sale.”
“I’m growing quite fond of it,” I say and his eyes narrow briefly before the smile is back.
Just then Jones enters with a tray, saving me from having to say anything else. He hands me a coffee and then offers Mr Nagle a drink. Jones checks in with me and I nod that it’s okay for him to leave us.
“So, what’s the purpose of this visit?” I don’t waste any time once the door closes behind Jones.
“Have you considered the offer for the house?”
“Not yet,” I reply bluntly. “The estate agents were only here last week, so it hasn’t been on the market very long.”
“I think it’ll be difficult to sell. You have a generous offer. I think you should give it some thought.” Yes, too generous really, which is always something to be wary of.
“Really, and why do you think that?” I ask, taking a swig of my coffee. My question catches him off guard and he takes a few seconds to answer.
“I just mean that you must want to get on with your life, without having to worry about this place.” He looks nervous enough for me to wonder what his angle is on this. But he’s starting to annoy me and I don’t want to prolong this any further.
“Like I said, I’m becoming fond of it. I still have plenty of time, don’t I?”
“Yes, but if you wait too long they might reduce the offer or withdraw it completely.” I don’t know why he seems so concerned.
“I’ll take my chances,” I say, putting down my cup.
“Now, I believe all the remaining paperwork regarding the estate is in order, so unless you have anything else, I have work to do. Jones will see you out.” I leave him open-mouthed as I open the door, and I allow myself a smile as I head towards the kitchen to find Jones.
Apart from concerns over why he came here to persuade me to accept the developer’s offer, I quite enjoyed the exchange.
Maybe I could get used to acting the earl.
“See that he leaves immediately and doesn’t linger anywhere,” I instruct Jones as I enter the kitchen. He nods and obeys while I sit at the table. Martha puts a plate of biscuits in front of me, knowing I’m not able to refuse her cooking.
“He’s gone,” Jones says when he returns. “What did he want?”
“To suggest that I accept the developers’ offer for the house.”
“Hmm that developer has been after the hall for the last few years. Your uncle always refused their offers.”
“So I understand.” I absently reach for another biscuit.
“Will you accept it, sir?”
“Not if I can help it,” I say and push off from my chair.
My head feels a little muzzy, probably just from Mr Nagle’s strange visit, but I need some air.
My body feels heavy too. I set off across the gardens and keep on going, wanting to clear my head.
I find myself at the lake, standing on the deck and staring out across the dark waters.
Something about Mr Nagle’s words and tone bother me.
I know he was trusted by my uncle, but I don’t feel the same way.
I’m not comfortable with him handling the estate, so I think I’ll start looking for a new solicitor to take over things for me.
Even if I do end up having to sell the hall, I’d prefer someone else to do it.
A creak of the wooden deck comes from behind me and I whirl round to see it’s Jason.
“Sorry if I startled you. I was checking the boathouse and I saw someone was out here,” he says. He’s a welcome sight after the last hour, and I smile at him. He matches it, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
“I’ve never seen the boathouse. What boats do we have?”
“Would you like to see?” he asks and I nod.
He leads the way as I follow along the short path to the low wooden building.
He unlocks the door, opens it, and then gestures for me to enter.
As I squeeze past him, I catch a smell that’s mellow.
Sandalwood and cinnamon with earthy tones.
It’s warm and strong just like Jason, and I breathe deeply before stepping into the gloom where my senses are overtaken by the smell of the wooden boats and a faint scent of dank water from the lake on the far side.
“We have a few canoes, and several rowing boats that can fit two, four, or eight people. There’s also a sailing dinghy, which I don’t remember your uncle using while I’ve been here, but I think he did when he was younger,” Jason explains.
“Where do people sail or row to?” I ask.
“Apart from using it for exercise, the lake is bigger than you think. It’s a horseshoe shape, and around the other side is a small island where there’s a small folly.”
“Another secluded place for my uncle’s parties?”
“They were quite lively,” he answers, and I see a faint glint in his eyes.
“Wait, did you have to do the rowing?” I ask and he gives a wry smile. “You did, didn’t you?!” He just gives a little shrug, but I know it’s true.
“Did you ever see anything? Did it scandalise you?” I pry a little.
“No, and no.”
“Not men with other men?” Okay, that was very blatant.
“Should it?”
“I don’t know, some hetero men might find it a bit too much.”
“They wouldn’t fit in here very well, would they? But then maybe it’s a good thing I’m not.”
Bingo. It was as subtle as a ton of bricks, but I got my answer.
I shiver in the cold air of the boathouse. I’d left without a coat, and though the walk down here had warmed me up, now my skin is chilled.
“Are you cold? Perhaps we should be getting back,” Jason says and I agree.
I wait for him to lock the boathouse again and we walk back up the hill towards the hall.
When we reach the gardens again, I turn and look back down at the lake, seeing for the first time how it disappears out of sight behind a bank of trees.
Despite the walk I still feel chilled, and my head hurts even more.
I want to warm up but I don’t want to leave suddenly like yesterday.
“Thank you for showing me the boathouse. When the weather’s warmer I’d like to see the folly as well. Would you take me there?”
“I’d like that,” he replies.
“Thank you.” I smile at him, at the fact that he didn’t just agree or say “of course.” Expressing that he’d like to feels like more than just duty, and a warmth blooms in my belly despite the clamminess of my skin.
When I enter the hall I ask Jones to light a fire in my room.
I have a couple of videos to record, but I need to warm up first.