Chapter Twenty-Two
James
“Do you get the sense that they’re onto us?” Bobby whispers, leaning over to James on their half of the badminton court.
James watches Beth and Gwen giggle and sip at their drinks on the picnic blanket a few yards away, taking a moment for “refreshment”
before they’ll be back to decimate Bobby and James for likely the third time. He and Bobby actually make a decent team, but
it’s rather hot outside now and they’re both down to their shirtsleeves and it’s... distracting.
“How do you figure?” James whispers back, wiping at his brow. He turns to look at Bobby and finds his eyes dark and wanting.
Any concern he had about Gwen and Beth being onto them pales in comparison to the heat that flushes through him looking at
Bobby now. Jesus, they’re pathetic.
“Switching sides with us every game, forcing us to bend over to pick up the shuttlecock,” Bobby says, his voice dipping on
the hard “k” in a way that makes James’ whole body tighten.
“Oh, so you’re blaming that on them?” James asks, looking him up and down. “Just because you let Gwen’s serve pass you by
doesn’t mean you have to wiggle your delectable arse at me when you bend over,” he whispers, unable to keep from smiling as
Bobby crowds closer.
But as much as he’d like to throw him down and ravish him in the green grass, he notices Beth and Gwen returning, so he coughs and steps back.
Perhaps a little distance is what they all need, given Beth and Gwen are looking rather handsy themselves, and he and Bobby
can barely keep their hands off each other. Lady Harrington is about somewhere. No need to tempt discovery, for any of them.
“Why don’t we switch teams?” James suggests. “Give me and Bobby a fighting shot.”
Bobby groans while Beth and Gwen consider the offer. “I’m just going to keep losing. I’m the weak link,” Bobby admits.
“Ah, but this way I can at least win one. Ladies, which of you shall be the bigger person and take poor Bobby?” James asks.
Gwen cackles and Beth nudges her, smiling at Bobby. “We’ll beat them, you’ll see,” she promises. “Go be mean with James,”
she adds, shoving Gwen away as she continues to snicker.
“It’s not mean, just practical,” James defends, pleased by how little he has to take her comment to heart now.
Both Beth and Gwen have opened up to him with bright cheer over the past few days, and it’s let him just... float. Stealing
kisses with Bobby, playing cards with the girls, basking in the sun, flirting over croquet and bowling, all followed by endless
rounds in the sheets—it’s bliss here at Mason Manor, and he wishes idly it could always be this way.
“Ready to decimate?” Gwen asks, tapping her racket against her hand.
“Oh, absolutely,” James says.
He didn’t expect to enjoy spending time with his cousin’s lover so much. But Gwen is vicious and sharp-witted, incredibly
quick, and hilarious. He doesn’t have to be nice to her for his cousin’s sake, or Bobby’s sake; he genuinely enjoys her company.
And he thoroughly enjoys beating Beth and Bobby in a punishing 15–2 victory.
“Take that!” Gwen yells, jumping up and down in triumph as Beth and Bobby lean against each other, winded.
“We are the victors,” James exclaims.
“Oh, they’re both poor winners, that’s tragic,” he hears Beth mutter.
Bobby’s loud laughter rings across the lawn and James can’t help but smile, even in his admittedly petty victory.
“We deserve sweets in celebration,” Gwen declares, plucking the racket from his hand to toss both of theirs by the net.
She takes his arm and guides him across the lawn back toward the patio where Mrs.Tilty has just finished laying out a magnificent
lunch.
“You are an excellent partner,” James tells Gwen.
She pats his hand. “I know.” He laughs, glancing up to find her looking over her shoulder at Beth and Bobby. “I’m glad you’re
here,” she says, turning back to him.
James feels himself smiling. “I am too. It was kind of you all to let me come. I truly appreciate it.”
“I appreciate that you took the time to apologize to Beth,” Gwen says, no preamble, no gloss.
James ignores his fleeting discomfort. “Someone had to. She deserves an apology, at the very least. I’d do more, if she’d
let me.”
Gwen smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and another unforeseen weight lifts off his shoulders. “I’ve got her covered
there, but thank you.”
“I wish it had been different, but I am glad that the silver lining of such a horrible year was you and your father. You both
make Beth and her mother very happy.”
“We try,” Gwen says, a little bashful all of a sudden, which is an interesting look on her usually proud face. “You and Bobby make quite a good team as well, usually. Though you’re terrible at badminton.”
She releases his arm to take her seat at the long table with its flowing white tablecloth, and James stands, puzzled. Do they
know about him and Bobby? Or is everyone just glad they’re no longer at each other’s throats? And more, has he really grown
so much that the thought of them finding out no longer fills him with dread?
Or is it more that he feels safe here? That Albert knows, and doesn’t care—and all of them, save Lady Harrington, know about
Beth and Gwen, so why should they care about James and Bobby? He didn’t think he could consider being discovered without panic, but there’s barely an
edge to his anxiety as he rounds the table to sit across from Gwen, leaving space for Albert and Meredith to join them as
they stroll out of the solarium.
Bobby and Beth reach the table and Bobby plops down beside him dramatically, feigning exhaustion from having his ego so horribly
beaten down.
“You’ll have to make it up to me somehow,” Bobby declares, looking across at Gwen. He presses his foot to James’ beneath the
table, requesting decidedly different restitution.
“You’ll survive,” Gwen says, arching a brow in James’ direction.
“Here, have the larger sandwich,” he says, shrugging as Gwen rolls her eyes. “What, I’m a pushover?”
Gwen snorts and Meredith laughs. “So we shouldn’t leave the babysitting up to you when this one is three years old and incorrigible?”
Meredith asks.
James looks over, surprised. “Um, well, I mean, with an actual child, I would certainly try,” he hedges, feeling a flush creeping up toward his forehead.
He watches Beth and Gwen glance around and then share a sticky jam kiss. Watches Albert rub Meredith’s stomach as they lounge,
rumpled and comfortable together. Watches Bobby laugh at something his brother says, seeming lighter than he’s been before.
He feels safe here, he decides. Safe and cared about. And it’s lovely.
Lady Harrington swans out of the solarium, waving at all of them as they go to rise and apologize for starting without her.
She sits without fanfare and immediately pulls Beth and Gwen into a discussion about this season’s gowns.
“Larger than life,” Bobby mutters, their shoulders briefly pressing together as he leans across James to snag a biscuit.
“But wonderful,” James argues.
“Oh, no denying. But you call me dramatic?”
James meets his gaze. “I call you many things—dramatic is just one of the more appropriate.”
“I’ll need a list of the others,” Bobby says, his voice a shade lower, husky.
James shrugs and forces himself to take a calm sip of his tea. He glances down the table and finds Lady Harrington smiling
at him. He smiles back, trying to ignore the sudden gnawing feeling in his stomach. Nothing’s changed. Lady Harrington is
marvelous fun, and he’s enjoyed their evenings playing cards. Why should her arrival unsettle him from the comfortable sense
of secluded joy he’s been basking in all day?
“We’ll have to send a second carriage with all of your things,” he hears Albert say.
“Mother can bring them with her. I think she’d like to stay here an extra day or two,” Meredith says.
He turns to listen to Albert, Meredith, and Bobby’s conversation, that gnawing feeling gripping at him more firmly.
“You could stay with her,” Albert says, and even James can hear the hesitation in his voice.
“There’s no way I’m giving up a carriage ride with Beth and Gwen,” Meredith says indignantly. “You ride back with her, then.”
“James and I need to be in session on Monday, or I would,” Albert says soothingly. “I want to make this as comfortable a journey
for you as possible. And if you want to be squished up with Beth and Gwen, that’s your right.”
“Yes, and we don’t have to wear dress hoops for the journey, that will make it better,” Beth chimes in, smiling over at them
before turning back to Lady Harrington and Gwen.
James puts down the finger sandwich he’d been keen on eating just minutes ago. That clenching sensation is joined by a sinking
feeling. He knows, of course, that they’re returning home the day after tomorrow. But up until this moment, he’d been doing
an admirable job of distracting himself from thinking about it. It’s been a problem for later, for after, for someone less
happy, and less calm, and less content. A job for his former self, the one terrified of his stepfather.
A person he’s been trying to tell himself he isn’t anymore.
But the clutch of panic in his chest, the restlessness in his legs, and the choking fear invading his throat are proof that
his transformation is far from complete. He is still terrified of what his stepfather would do if he discovered James’ proclivities.
Terrified of the ton. Terrified of what happens if they try and keep all of this going—the happiness, and sex, and... feelings he’s not ready to name—and then the end of the season comes and they all have to separate anyway.
Or worse, what if he lets himself fall hopelessly in love with Bobby Mason, and in a few years he has to shatter both their hearts to do his duty to his title, and take the life they would build with all these wonderful people around them out in the cross fire?
Lady Harrington laughs and James nearly flinches. Everything is suddenly off-kilter, and he wants to shake this off. Wants
to hold on to the happiness he’s felt here for one day longer, but an all-too-familiar anxiety is roiling in his stomach and
he’s not sure he can sit here for another minute.
“I’m going to take a walk; feeling a little overfull. I’ll see you all at dinner,” he says, directing his words to no one
in particular.
He rises without meeting anyone’s eyes and heads as steadily as possible around the table and off the patio, marching toward
the hedges at the far corner of the back lawn. Hopefully he can scurry down into the depths of the maze and find a quiet corner
in which he can collapse, far away from prying eyes.
He makes it almost all the way there before he hears footsteps jogging behind him. It can only be one person, and he doesn’t
know how he can face Bobby right now. Doesn’t know how to explain everything swirling through his head.
“You all right?” Bobby asks, catching up to him and lightly taking his elbow.
James forces himself to nod, continuing to walk into the maze. Bobby follows without argument. He’s seen James in a state
before, after all. But not since they’ve been sleeping together.
James doesn’t want to make this Bobby’s problem, but it is. It’s all their mutual problem now. He’s gone and developed feelings
for Bobby Mason, and Bobby’s developed some level of feelings for him, and now his anxiety is swirling, and he doesn’t know
what to say.
“James, slow down, hey,” Bobby says, pulling him to a stop after they turn their third corner into the maze. “What’s wrong?”
James stares down at their feet, trying to breathe through it. Trying to find the words to tell Bobby’s he’s fine.
“Did Gwen say something to upset you?”
“What?” he says, looking up in surprise. Which is a tactical error, because Bobby looks so concerned, and lovely, and handsome.
It instantly cracks something in James’ chest. “No,” he says. “No, she didn’t.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
James shakes his head. “Nothing. Just... a little sun-tired,” he lies.
Bobby raises an eyebrow. “Sun-tired? Do you want to... nap?” James forces a strangled chuckle. “What’s the matter, really?”
“I—I just—” Bobby steps closer, running his hands up and down James’ biceps and James loses the battle to keep it all from
bubbling out of his mouth. “How can you stand this?” he exclaims.
Bobby’s hands go still as he blinks down at James, that sly look slipping off his face. “Stand what?” he asks.
He can see Bobby’s thoughts racing behind his eyes, knows he has only one chance to properly explain this. “It’s like—it’s
like there are rocks sitting on my chest, you know?”
Bobby cocks his head. “What?”
“I’ve— Being here is amazing. And you are amazing. And I’ve tried, really I have, to be like you—to just live in the moment and not worry about the future and
not care about the consequences.”
James hears his words play back only in time for Bobby’s face to darken. Bobby’s hands slip from his arms. He doesn’t move,
but the lack of contact feels like a chasm between them all the same.
“Is that what I do? Don’t give a damn about the consequences—that’s what you still think of me?”
“No!” James exclaims. “No, I just—I’m not explaining this well.”
“Clearly,” Bobby says, and there’s no warmth to his voice, no teasing.
“I just—I don’t know how I can—how we can—just return to London after everything we’ve done and face everyone. How we—”
“‘Everything we’ve done,’” Bobby repeats. “What, is this a tawdry secret to you? Something wrong and disgraceful?”
“No!” James says again, that clutch of panic shooting all over his body in a tight, pulsing fear. He’s messing this up, like
always. His mouth running away before he can make sense the way he means to. “No, but my stepfather, and the ton, and—you
know they’re just waiting for something to use against me—us—and this... if it ever got out, what we’ve done—”
“Stop saying that,” Bobby says, his words ringing around the hedge maze. “I am not something you’ve done. I’m not some boy
at the back of an inn or a classmate behind the classics building. This— I am more than that.”
That’s not what he meant, not at all. “Of cour—”
“I know you feel it between us,” Bobby says, and James clenches his fists, trying to control his own breathing. “This is something , James. Are you really so afraid of your bloody stepfather you’re willing to throw this away on the off chance he finds out?
So afraid of him you can’t even admit you wanted this?”
“How do you expect us to continue a relationship like this in London? How could we do this in the actual world?” James beseeches,
his heart thudding loudly.
“Tell me you don’t feel it,” Bobby demands.
James steps back, gravel crunching under his feet. “Bobby.”
“Tell me you only fucked me because we’re in the country. Tell me you don’t feel anything real for me.”
James’ back presses into the hedge behind him, and Bobby looms over him. He can’t lie and tell Bobby he doesn’t feel what’s clawing up his throat, desperate to be shouted to the rooftops. But he can’t free those words from his mouth when he has no plan for how to keep them safe.
When he doesn’t know how a love could survive beyond the safety of Bobby’s family’s country home.
Feeling overcome and desperate and pent up, he does the only thing he can think of and lurches forward, grabbing Bobby’s face
to pull him into a hard kiss. Bobby stills against him for a moment before pushing James back, hands on his shoulders, holding
him against the hedge, glaring.
They stare at each other, too much to be said, and then their mouths crash back together. James groans as Bobby rucks up his
shirt. The press of his hands against James’ skin, the stroke of his fingers, sends shivers up and down James’ spine. He clutches
at Bobby’s neck, sucking on his bottom lip. He bucks into Bobby’s hand, already making its way into his trousers.
“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me,” Bobby rasps against his mouth as his hand wraps around James.
James can only moan, pleasure clenching all over his body as Bobby uses everything he’s learned about James this week to bring
him to the edge in a matter of minutes.
“Tell me,” Bobby insists.
He can’t explain, but he could show him. He kisses Bobby roughly, skirting his hand down to fumble with the buttons on Bobby’s
trousers. He would drop to his knees right here in the hedges, worship at the altar of Bobby’s body to say all the things
he can’t put into words. And maybe if he does, maybe Bobby can understand what he meant to say all alon—
A shriek pierces their hazy frenzy of lust and anger and feelings, and the little control James has over his panic and fear
shatters apart.