Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
Despite his terror, Rollo’s heart swelled. Sophistry at a moment like this! Absurd, and yet so typical of the man. Sucking in a breath, he shakily rose to his full height.
“Fear of falling then,” he corrected, his voice cracking. Anything to keep Fitz distracted and talking. “It is much the same thing, is it not?”
“It’s not the fall that scares you either,” remarked Fitz. “It’s the crunch and thud when you reach the bottom.”
Rollo shuddered. He blinked several times, his vision blurring. Two Fitz’s now appeared to be dancing on the edge of the roof, not one.
“Please, do not say that, Fitz,” he whispered, though his voice sounded as if it was coming from very far away.
His left leg had numbed, too, as though it were no longer there.
He thought he heard his father’s voice, urgently insisting on something.
The grey sky faded in and out, little white stars dotting it as it merged with the flint roof slates like a vast, stormy ocean. “Please, Fitz, I cannot bear—”
*
ROLLO CAME BACK to himself, cradled in a pair of strong arms and ensconced in a solid, broad lap.
Despite the sloshing in his belly and feeling like he might swoon again if he opened both eyes properly, he decided that he was so comfortable he never wanted to climb out of it.
When he braved peeling his eyelids apart, he discovered he was still far too high from the ground for his tastes, though not near the edge.
A howling wind whistled through his ears.
And yet, he’d never felt more secure.
Fitz’s throaty voice rasped in his ear. “Heights are stupid things to be afraid of, pup.” Soft lips pressed against his temple. “You should avoid them in future. Or you’ll do yourself an injury.”
Rollo would have had a smart retort for that if his mouth were working properly. Instead, he drifted in a half-asleep haze with the steady thrum of Fitz’s heart against his cheek until he felt better.
“I’m afraid of many stupid things,” he answered eventually.
“Such as Willoughby doing pretty much anything from here onwards. And the peat bogs surrounding Goule. Sheep when they start that higgledy, gambolling run. This creaking house when darkness falls and the ghouls come out to play.” He opened both eyes to find his lover’s soft, dark, worried ones gazing down at him. “But…but losing you scares me more.”
Fitz stroked his damp hair back from his face. “I tried, pup. I strived to return to how it was before you came. But…existing in such an empty, meaningless world felt so hopeless. No one needed me. I am not capable of such a pointless existence.”
“No, but you are capable of love. You have so much to give.”
“I am.” Fitz kissed his forehead. “And I gladly gave it all to you. But then I realised it wasn’t the giving that frightened me. I am afraid of not being loved back.”
Rollo entwined his fingers in Fitz’s. “Then be afraid no longer. Because you are much loved. And needed.” He paused. “Very needed.”
“I respectfully disagree.”
“What about Will?” Rollo countered. “Who would read him Johnson’s cheerless essays one day and Rodolfo’s exploits the next, if not you? And give a highfalutin Italian count a rough Glaswegian accent, just to bring a smile to your oldest friend’s poor face?”
Fitz’s cheeks warmed with a tinge of colour. “He nearly choked to death the first time I tried it, from laughing so hard. Perhaps it would be wiser if I didn’t.”
“And no one except you would keep Berridge in employ. He can barely climb the steps to the front door, let alone the hall staircase. A lesser lord would have palmed him off years ago. And Simpson wouldn’t receive any church support for his second project without your name adhered to it.
The Elliot’s grave markers would be strangled by weeds at the first hint of spring.
Not to mention your beautiful hydrangeas. ”
Rollo sat up a bit, rallying. “In fact, the whole of Goule would suffer. You have no heirs, and your brother is far too busy to spend his time trekking all the way to Norfolk several times each year to ensure all is kept shipshape. The hall and the village would fall into disrepair and the people into poverty. Ripples would stretch far and wide. These folk aren’t tin soldiers, Fitz.
If one kills the commander, the entire regiment falls. ”
“All right, all right. You’ve made your point,” Fitz muttered.
“Trust me, I’ve only just started. I have much more to say, especially about the duke. He needs—”
Fitz held up a finger. “That’s where you’re wrong. Benedict has no need for me. He is perfectly capable of being Ashington without my hindrance. And anyhow, if its support he’s after, he has Squire warming his bed.”
Rollo scoffed. “And Tommy Squire, born in the back alleys of Covent Garden, knows all about running a dukedom, does he?”
“Well, no—” began Fitz, but Rollo cut him off, apparently suddenly feeling much better.
“I shall support Willoughby in every way I can when he takes over from Papa, and gladly.”
Fitz smiled at him gently. “Then I hope for his sake that your Willoughby has a strong character.” He nuzzled against Rollo’s ear, his mouth tracing the delicate flesh; Rollo felt he never wanted move again.
“You haven’t mentioned you,” Fitz whispered into it. “Sometimes I think this slight body hides within it the strength of ten men, but I fear I shall test all ten of them in years to come.”
Rollo reached up to cup his lover’s coarse whiskery cheek. “All ten of us would be bereft without you.” He scratched his fingers against the bristly hairs. “I am your man, Fitz, until I draw my last breath.”
“Then, God help me, I am yours.”
They kissed, long and deep. Rollo clung to him, even though Fitz’s mouth tasted like an uncorked cask of old brandy.
“It will be hard, this business of loving,” he said as he came up for breath. “I am still young. And I am not always wise. And…and tend to speak my mind.”
Fitz’s mouth smiled against his. “Indeed, we shall often do battle with each other. I look forward to it.”
“Talking of battles,” Rollo pulled away to gaze about him. “What have you done with my papa?”
Fitz chuckled. “I sent him back down in search of a stiff drink and his lover’s comforting arms. Never seen the man quite so distraught. Or dishevelled. Anyone would think a big, warm heart beat inside that pillar of ice.”
“An enormous one,” Rollo confirmed. “He was prepared to scramble across this roof in my stead.”
Fitz’s dark eyes twinkled. “In that case, I’d have definitely jumped.”
“I put that argument to him.” Rollo traced a line across his lover’s strong jaw.
“Being young and unwise, I decided to do it myself. And…” He wriggled a little.
Truly, Fitz had a marvellous lap. “If you had received all my thousands of letters, you would see that I tried to explain my fears. I still have much to learn about life and…and I think that you have much to forget.”
“And I think you are demonstrating your vast wisdom already.”
Fitz’s fingers travelling over the front of his trousers was distracting, but Rollo pushed on.
“Yes, but having you living here and my Rossingley life over there, and London somewhere else entirely, will be damned tricky to navigate on occasion. And we can’t overlook that you appear to have made enemies of half the country.
We’ll have to sort that out and I daresay make the odd recompense for it, just as we will also have to accept that I’m a damned foolish youth desperate to enjoy a few seasons.
I intend to be the pink of the ton. I am determined to get into all sorts of scrapes with Willoughby, which you may have to haul me away from.
Undoubtedly, I shall quarrel with Papa when I do. And with you.”
Fitz smiled. “All three of us will disagree on many things. Your father and I have yet to find common ground.”
“You have more in common than either of you would believe. You just haven’t discovered it yet.
What I’m trying to say, in far too many words when so very few would serve as well, is that I would be an utter disaster without you.
If you had tumbled from this damned roof and died, I would never have forgiven you. ”
Planting a last kiss on Fitz’s mouth, he brushed himself down and reluctantly clambered off Fitz’s lap. “And it goes without saying that the art world would have suffered enormously.”
Fitz fought a smile, Rollo could see it tugging at his lips. His dizziness had passed, but he wasn’t taking any chances; the skies were as leaden as ever and inside was calling. Reaching out a hand, he helped Fitz up.
“Say goodbye to the roof, Fitz. You shan’t be seeing it again.”
“You annoy me, pup.”
“And I plan on annoying you every day for the foreseeable future.” As he tilted his head up to meet Fitz’s eyes, a spot of rain landed on his nose. “But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll make a start from the comfort of the house.”