Chapter 2
Abraham
It’s a challenge to keep my pace steady as I head toward the creek.
My feet want to run. Fly.
Jasper returned to the stables the day before last, as he said he would. But there were no long conversations to be had between us. There was barely even the chance to exchange a smile. Victor had returned to his post, and Jasper had no reason—or excuse—to linger.
I pray he’s able to meet me today. If not, well… I suppose I may get another opportunity to hear his voice when he comes to collect the carriage.
The sun shines brightly as I walk along the edge of the woods, the gurgle of water finally reaching my ears. I strain to hear any other accompanying sounds, but all is quiet. Peaceful.
I expect the bend of creek to be empty when I round the tree line, so seeing a shock of light hair has my pace stuttering to nearly a stop. Jasper turns quickly, having caught me from the corner of his eye. His wariness immediately settles. And then he smiles.
Oh , but he’s beautiful.
I’m well aware men are not meant to think such things about each other, but I can’t help it. I’ve never set eyes on someone as absolutely lovely as him.
His hair is golden in the sun. His skin pale and near flawless. He’s fine-featured and fine-boned. And his eyes…the deepest, most fathomless blue.
If he knew what I thought of him, would he still smile at me so?
“Abraham.” The relief is evident in his voice.
“Did you think me someone else?” I ask, continuing my walk to where Jasper is standing, my heart beating heavily beneath my rib cage.
He tugs at the sleeve of his coat. He must be sweltering in it. “For a moment, yes. I’m grateful it is you.”
I blow out a small breath, the pressure beneath my ribs too great.
“Have you been waiting long?” I ask, reaching him at last.
“No, not at all. I… I hope you don’t mind, but I brought a small loaf of bread to share.” He indicates the wrapped bundle on the ground beside him with a nervous flick of his hand.
“Jasper…” I manage, more appreciative than he could possibly know. “That’s incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”
He smiles shyly, and my heart aches at the sight. “Would you…like some now?”
“Please.”
Jasper lowers to the ground, carefully flattening his coattails under him. I seat myself with far less fanfare, and Jasper’s eyes skip down my legs, throat bobbing as he takes in my lack of stockings .
“Does it scandalize you? To see me dressed so?”
“No.” He says it on a breath, grabbing the cloth-wrapped bread and beginning to unwrap it. “I’m unused to it, is all. My family would not allow for such.”
The admission by no means surprises me. Jasper’s station demands a certain decorum. From the buckles on his shoes to the fine stitching on his clothing, it’s clear to me—and was from the moment I first saw him—that Jasper and I are from different worlds.
Him sitting beside me now is nothing short of a miracle.
“You could remove your stockings here,” I offer, watching Jasper’s stillness closely. “And your coat. If you’d like.”
His chest rises and falls, the bread in his hands temporarily forgotten. His eyes dart to me, and I can see him weighing his options. Deciding on what would be right.
Slowly, he sets the bread down, keeping the cloth beneath the underside of the loaf.
With trembling fingers, he removes one shoe and then the other.
Ever so carefully, he lifts the hem of his breeches and rolls his stocking down and off his foot.
He repeats the process on the other side, leaving his feet as bare as mine.
His eyes dart to me once more before he shrugs his heavy coat off his shoulders, placing it on the grass beside him.
He looks pounds lighter, even with his waistcoat in place over his fine linen shirt.
“Feel better?”
His exhale sounds almost like a laugh. “Yes.”
With a smile aimed my way, he continues unwrapping the bread, revealing with it a small jar of honey. I nearly groan, only managing to keep the sound within myself by the skin of my teeth. Jasper breaks the bread into two pieces, offering me one before uncapping the honey pot.
We take turns pouring the sweet liquid on our bread and biting off mouthfuls. It’s divine. I can’t remember the last time I tasted honey.
Jasper chews his bite fully before speaking. “You live close?”
I nod, letting my toes stretch down toward the edge of the creek, the gentle breeze today welcome. “The walk here is short. Is it far for you?”
“Yes, it is. But I’m glad for it.” He laughs once, the sound light. “I’m grateful to get away. Is that terrible? It feels terrible to admit.”
“No,” I say softly. “I understand.”
His face falls. “Oh, Abraham. I’m sorry. You must think me horribly ungrateful. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative of what I’ve been afforded in life, I truly don’t. It’s only…”
Jasper breaks off, looking surprised by my hand on his bare ankle, his skin warm beneath my fingers and palm.
I give him a gentle squeeze. “Think nothing of it,” I tell him before letting go, loath to do so.
“I only meant because of my mother’s condition.
It’s a guilty pleasure, taking a few moments for myself when I know I should be home, caring for her. Do you think that terrible of me?”
Jasper seems to consider this, which I find fascinating. I think I would rather enjoy trying to unravel the way this man’s mind works and find myself desperate to succeed in doing so. “What is wrong with her?”
“She’s lost the use of her legs,” I say, pouring a few drops of honey on my last piece of bread. “She cannot work. Can scarcely get around.”
“Abe.” Jasper’s tone is soft, the sound of that single syllable spoken so casually yet with such familiarity nearly stealing my breath away. “I’m so sorry. She relies on you.”
It’s not a question, but I answer nonetheless. “Yes, she does. I love her dearly. Please don’t mistake me on that. And I don’t fault her in any way. But sometimes… I wish for the impossible.”
“And what’s that?”
I hum lightly, dusting flour off my fingertips. “Freedom, I suppose. Choice.”
Jasper gives a slow nod, his hand twitching as if his impulse is to reach for me. I wish he would. “I don’t think you terrible, Abraham. I think you human.”
A small smile lifts my lips. “So you see now why I couldn’t think you terrible, either?”
He lets out a quiet laugh, licking a drop of honey off his thumb before closing the glass pot. “Except that my circumstances are not your own.”
“And what are yours?”
He leans back onto the flats of his hands, his lithe body stretched out, his head dropping back as he looks up at the sky.
“My father expects me to step into his shoes at the printer. My mother expects me to start courting. And soon. And the only one who ever asks what I want is the one person who can’t give it to me. ”
“Who’s that?”
“Our housekeeper.” He winces as his gaze settles on me, wariness there.
I shake my head before he can utter another apology for something he has no control over. “You love her.”
“I do. So very much. If I could, I would live with Catherine in the country and be content to simply…be.”
His melancholic smile is both sad and lovely. It plucks at my heartstrings, making me long to give him that very thing. To be a part of it. Even as the notion is utter insanity .
“Could I join you there?” I jest, regardless of the impossibility. “Me and my mother both.”
Jasper turns to me, gaze serious, his cupid lips a bright contrast against his fair skin. “Yes. You would be most welcome, Abraham.”
I pull in a breath, facing the water flowing gently past our feet. It sparkles blue in the sunlight, the color muddied over the shallow, stony bed. “Would you like to swim now?” I ask before other words can escape my mouth.
His smile is soft and sweet. “I would.”
I stand, and Jasper does the same. His eyes go wide in a way he can’t quite conceal when I pull my shirt from beneath the band of my breeches and tug it over my head.
His mouth parts, and I take my time, folding the material before setting it on the ground.
With Jasper’s eyes on me, I walk into the creek.
The water is cool as it runs over my toes, mud seeping upwards with each step I take. Stones press against the soles of my feet, but they’re small enough not to hurt. Jasper has yet to move an inch when I stop at the deepest part of the creek, the water flowing over my knees.
“Are you joining me?” I ask.
He swallows, the motion visible in his slender neck.
His eyes dart back and forth quickly, likely checking to make sure we’re alone, before he reaches for the buttons on his waistcoat.
I try not to watch him undress, but it’s a hard-fought battle I lose in the end.
Jasper removes his waistcoat, revealing the whole of his shirt, more finely tailored than my own.
He toys with the material at his waist before tugging it free as I did.
I do my best not to think of the single layer of clothing now covering his prick.
Jasper is slow to lift his shirt over his head, and I force my eyes away before he can notice the sharpness of my gaze.
Even still, the sight of that slim stomach and flat chest is a vision now seared into my mind.
I let myself drop into the water, floating along the surface, the burbling creek moving gently beneath me. In my periphery, I can see Jasper taking a moment to set his clothes flat. He approaches, a small whoosh of air leaving his lungs as he steps into the water.
There’s nothing remotely untoward about two men taking a dip together. But the direction of my own private thoughts is forbidden. I know as much. If anyone were to find out…
I don’t want to consider it.
The only opinion that truly matters to me is Jasper’s. What would he think? Would he hate me? Condemn me for my nature?
“Feel good?” I ask, my head turning lazily to track my companion, water filling my ear.
Jasper smiles, his hair brilliant in the sun, his skin calling to me in a way I’m unsure if I’ll ever be able to act on. “Yes. I haven’t done this in a very long time.”
“You’ve come to this spot before?”
He gives a quick shake of his head. “Not here, no. Although I prefer this spot over the creek I played in when I was young. It’s far more…secluded.”
I hum, sitting up as Jasper closes the distance between us. He lowers himself carefully, a stuttered exhalation leaving his lips as the water rushes up to his belly button.
“Whoo.”
I laugh at his bark of surprise, and Jasper’s smile widens.
In a show of supreme playfulness, he splashes water my way.
I feign offense, waiting for him to lower his guard before returning the favor.
He sputters a laugh, water dripping down his face that he wipes away.
Slowly, he flattens onto his front, head above the surface as he lets the shallow water run over his body.
There’s a fierce tug in my chest as I watch him. An ache to run my hand along the soft swell of his back. To curl my arm around him and hold him to me, keeping him afloat, keeping him close.
It makes no rational sense to long for this man when I know my cravings can be satiated much closer to home. Safely. And discreetly.
But I’ve never wanted another as fiercely as I want Jasper. I desire to know him. To see a lifetime of his smiles. How wonderfully light would my world be?
It’s foolish, utter nonsense, to consider testing his trust. But I can feel it approaching, like a compulsion, a knowledge deep in my core. I won’t be able to resist forever.
He’s the sweetest forbidden fruit. And I yearn to know his taste on my tongue.
We swim for quite some time. Jasper tells me more about Catherine.
About her goodness and how he wishes this life were different for her.
For all of us. He tells me about his father and the subtle edge of control that’s a constant threat, a sharpened knife at the edge of Jasper’s throat he has no choice but to obey.
He tells me about his mother. How he knows she loves him, but she isn’t kind. Not like she could be.
And I tell him more about my own mother, the only family I have left.
How her days are spent at home, alternating between her bed and the chair that overlooks the only window to outside.
How I’m trying my best to keep us fed. Keep her alive.
He doesn’t say it, but I can see the guilt in Jasper’s eyes when I share this, and I wish I could clear it away.
We end up on the grassy shore after our swim, baking in the sun. Jasper’s hair curls against his forehead, the strands blowing in the breeze as they dry. His breeches sit tight against his form, and more than once, I have to draw my gaze away.
“Have you ever wondered what happens when we die?”
Jasper’s question is so unexpected on the heels of his tale about a stray tabby cat he used to sneak scraps to when he was young that it takes me a moment to answer. “The church would have us believe Heaven or Hell.”
His head shifts my way, blue eyes seemingly trying to read me. “You don’t think so?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “I do not.”
“What do you believe?”
I ease out a breath. “There is so much in this world that is unknown to me. Places I will never see. Concepts I will never understand. But I cannot bring myself to believe there’s one governing body who decides the fate of all mortal men on this earth.
The will of man is great. And no matter the circumstances under which we are born and die, if I didn’t believe us capable of commandeering our own fate, I would have nothing to fight for. ”
Jasper watches me for the longest time. He doesn’t shy away, and I relish every heartbeat in which his eyes hold mine. “I want to believe what you do.”
“You can.”
“You make me think that’s true.”
No, I will not be able to resist Jasper Sinclair for long.
Jasper turns his gaze up toward the clouds, letting out a resigned sigh. “I must go. Will we do this again?”
“If you wish it.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
Jasper’s smile is warm. “Then we will. Next Sunday? ”
I nod, and he reaches for his shirt before standing. We dress beside one another, Jasper in his fancy shoes, my toes digging into the dirt.
In a world of my making, I would clasp Jasper behind his neck and offer my lips to his.
In this world, we bid each other goodbye. And I watch as he walks slowly toward his home, dreaming of a time when his footsteps might draw near instead.