Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
They both walked Rachelle to the front door and gave their farewells.
The moment felt bizarrely “coupley” to Cameron, but he’d need to get used to that happening at least some of the time, he supposed…
or not. Or perhaps he should face the thing he was silently avoiding.
That he should probably unravel this shameful mess he’d created and call the whole thing off.
But dear gods, where would that put him? How would he explain that to everyone—to Rachelle, his parents and Lennon. The house staff… the Upper Avalon aristocracy. Cameron had finally acquired a mate. He had chosen someone, but suddenly, he’d have to backpedal and figure this out all over again?
The thought was unbearable. Rachelle had used the word “selfish” as if it were a positive attribute of one’s character. In Cameron’s estimation, it certainly was not. He was being plenty selfish and a coward lately. Rachelle didn’t need to encourage him.
With his sister gone, Cameron stuffed all his tumultuous thoughts away and turned to Thomas as they stood in the foyer. “Would you like to have lunch together?”
“Sure,” Thomas said.
The corridors were quiet as they made their way to the small banquet hall. Peaceful, just the way Cameron liked it. Lennon greeted them inside the door. Lunch had already been plated and set out for them.
“You survived,” Lennon snarked as they passed. “Well done.”
Cameron rolled his eyes and went to sit at the table in his normal spot. Thomas sat across from him.
They ate in silence. Or, at least, Cameron ate.
Thomas had taken a spoonful of the hearty vegetable soup, but then began his habit of shuffling the food around in its bowl.
His usual feeble charade at eating. It wasn’t any of Cameron’s business, really, and he didn’t want to be intrusive.
But he found himself asking, “Is the food not to your liking?”
Thomas looked up with mild surprise laden in his straight features. “No, it’s alright. It’s very good.”
“If there’s something you prefer,” Cameron went on, “you can talk to Sulee and I’m sure she’d be happy to make it for you. You don’t need to be hesitant or shy.”
Thomas chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, I’m not shy. I simply… don’t have an appetite for food. I haven’t since… Well, rest assured that it bears no reflection on your chef and the quality of her meals. It’s me that’s the problem.”
Stirring his own soup, Cameron pondered that.
“If it’s anything that we can help with, please let us know.
We… I want you to feel comfortable here.
” Was it absurd of Cameron to want Thomas to be pleased within his forced environment?
Likely. Absolutely. But Cameron found that he did genuinely care about the man’s contentment.
Now that he was firmly planted in it, he didn’t want to unravel this situation.
Cameron wanted Thomas to stay.
Thomas stared down into his soup as he spoke. The words came out quietly, but sure. “Your kindness is a comfort to me, Cameron, and I do appreciate it. It’s just that… eating food requires a certain zeal for life. And I think… maybe I’ve lost that, somewhere along the way.”
Thomas lifted his chin to meet Cameron’s gaze. The earnest expression on his face in combination with the raw truth of his words made Cameron’s heart ache. “But I haven’t given up on myself,” Thomas went on, offering that weak, friendly smile. “I might find it again, someday.”
What has happened to you? What had transpired between the winter solstice party at the Havenwrath estate all those years ago and now? What event or action had so drastically altered his character?
Rachelle had been annoying in making her point, and Cameron would never admit it aloud to her, but she was right.
Cameron did remember the night he met Thomas.
It played brilliantly in his mind like a movie he’d watched only yesterday.
Something about it felt imprinted on his psyche.
He didn’t understand it at all, and no other party or social gathering he’d been forced to attend held anywhere near the same weight.
That velvety green room emblazoned with firelight and Thomas’s former self, full of not only zeal but playful intelligence. Confidence and curiosity. His chic suit well tailored to his long, elegant frame and the way he’d thrown his head back and openly laughed.
Thomas had smiled, and the simple gesture had brightened his whole demeanor. No, it had turned the entire operation of him on its head. Not just a frigid and bookish greyhound, but something more. Something frisky and enigmatic.
Yes, he’d remembered Thomas. Turns out, he was doing all the remembering, all by himself.
“I don’t mean to cause concern for you or your staff,” Thomas went on as Cameron sat lost in his internal musings. “If it’s any consolation, I am trying. I force down what I can manage, which, admittedly, isn’t much, but—”
“It’s alright, Thomas,” Cameron said, lifting a palm. “You don’t need… I’m glad to hear you haven’t given up on yourself. That speaks volumes, I think.”
Not for the first time, Cameron wondered if he’d taken on more than he’d accounted for with Thomas.
Yes, he seemed polite and reserved. But what darkness lay hidden beneath the placid, gloomy surface?
And what should Cameron do about it—if anything?
He wasn’t a hero in a storybook, and he wouldn’t know the first thing about saving anyone, anyhow.
“Speaking of zeal, your sister is a feisty one,” Thomas offered, an obvious attempt to change the heavy subject matter.
“‘Feisty’ feels like a euphemism for ‘pain in the ass,’” Cameron returned, rubbing his temples.
Thomas huffed. “She wants to throw us a party. She is right, you know. Sensibly speaking, the citizens within Upper Avalon will want to offer their congratulatory sentiments to their local lord. It’s ingrained in them to do so. Avoiding it might cause you more headache later on.”
Cameron met his gaze. “More headache than a boisterous and ostentatious party?”
“Mm. At least with the party, it’s one and done.
Everyone will bombard you all at once, then it’s over with.
If not, residents will try to congratulate you in their own individual ways—invitations to dinner, lunch or tea.
Smaller, private banquets thrown in your honor to curry favor.
Letters and cards being sent that will, of course, warrant a gracious letter or card of ‘thanks’ in return.
The procession of congratulatory acts could last for months—”
“Alright, okay, I understand.” Cameron’s hand had migrated to the back of his neck, massaging with more intensity the longer Thomas spoke.
“My fear is that a party will allow more onlookers in, which inevitably means more pressure. More expectations. I’ve been honest with you in that I primarily made this arrangement because I was pressured to do so.
Not because I have grandiose notions about bonding or love or status or whatever the hell else vampires usually do this for. ”
Hearing himself, Cameron snapped his eyes open and lifted his head. “No offense, of course. Please don’t take offense to any of that.”
“None taken.” Thomas shrugged. “You are correct. There are many preconceived notions surrounding bonding arrangements, each one differing wildly from one vampire to the next. Attending a party will put us under a microscope, at least for a short time. Will they mate? Can they form a bond? How long will it take? This is the usual fodder. Eventually, everyone’s attention will shift to the next salacious news item and we’ll be all but forgotten. ”
Impressed, Cameron’s mouth quirked up into a smile. “You’re quite intuitive about this—the social workings and norms of the aristocracy. I’m not surprised, though.”
Thomas returned his slight smile, his eyebrows lifting. “Thank you.”
Reassure him, Cameron told himself. He needed to stop beating around the bush.
Maybe if Cameron clarified the sex issue, Thomas would know that he could feel at ease within their home.
Even though he’d been brought here without his consent, Cameron would offer him a comfortable life as long as they respected each other’s needs.
“Speaking of bonding, do you mind if we address the issue of sex?”
Thomas’s face and body went noticeably still. “If you’d like.”
Cameron took a breath. “You’ve admitted to me that you lack a certain zeal about life.
My sincerest hope is that you will regain it, somehow, and with that…
when the time comes and you feel emotionally inclined to desire someone, please rest assured that I am not opposed to you taking a lover for your pleasure.
You are free to explore and fulfill your sexual desires, Thomas.
I would not hold you back. I’d simply ask that you refrain from parading strangers through the estate, or hosting any parties.
Discretion would be preferred. Otherwise, truly, I do not mind at all. ”
There. He’d said it and made things clear. Cameron hoped that this would serve as even more ammunition for Thomas to stay with him. They didn’t need to dissolve the arrangement, did they? Thomas could get to know Cameron and feel safe and secure. He could lead a good life here.
Thomas sat motionless, watching him and blinking his pale eyes. The anxiety in Cameron’s chest pulsed and tightened. “Is this agreeable for you?” he asked, fingering the collar of his sweater. It suddenly felt as if it was choking him.
“You… have given this a lot of thought, I see,” Thomas said.
“I-I am not an unreasonable vampire,” Cameron said impulsively. “I am strange, but I do understand that most other vampires have intimate needs to be fulfilled. You are young, intelligent and bright. You should enjoy yourself when the timing is—”
“With all due respect, Lord Ashford, I am bitter and weary,” Thomas disputed, his face hard and emotionless. “While I appreciate your very flexible perspective, the mere notion of ‘taking a lover’ feels preposterous to me. You needn’t worry.”
A stiff silence settled over the table. Cameron knew that he was terrible at social decorum, but this moment seemed to emphasize the point. Somehow, he’d bungled this severely.
“It was not my intention to make you angry,” Cameron said softly.
“I’m not angry. I’m… I just…” Thomas breathed a defeated sigh and ran a palm down his face to cover his mouth. He glanced off. Cameron waited, but he said nothing more.
It was clear that Cameron had upset him. He didn’t know what to do or say to make it right. He should probably apologize, for starters. “Thomas, I—”
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to retire to my rooms for the day. Do you mind?” His eyes were glassy when they flicked over to Cameron, the tear ducts threatening to overflow at any moment.
With his throat tight, Cameron nodded. “Of course not. Please let us know if you need anything. Anything at all.”
Thomas stood. He offered a shallow bow, but as he lifted his head and turned, Cameron caught sight of the tears spilling over and onto his cheeks.