Chapter Twenty-six
DOMINIC
I came awake slowly, aware of Ben’s warmth along my side. He was still fast asleep, sprawled on his front with one arm trapped beneath the pillow and his hair sticking up in approximately six different directions.
People didn’t normally become more attractive after hypothermia and three hours’ sleep, but somehow Ben had managed it. Maybe he felt me watching, because he made a soft sound and moved closer, pressing tight against me.
I couldn’t resist any longer, and kissed his temple.
His eyes opened almost immediately, and for a second he simply looked at me, sleep-blurred and soft.
Then memory returned all at once, visible in the slight tightening around his eyes.
It didn’t look like pity, thank God, but it did look like concern. I couldn’t bear that.
“So,” I said before he could speak, “good news. We survived near-drowning by Welsh weather.”
To my relief, he lost that look and his mouth twitched.
“Barely,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep.
“You know, we may need to reconsider our life choices. We seem to spend an alarming amount of time naked and freezing.”
That got an actual laugh out of him, quiet and warm against the pillow. And God, the relief of hearing it made it easier to breathe. I’d lost control, yet he was still here.
Ben reached for me, his hand settling warm against the back of my neck as he pulled me down into a kiss. And then nothing else mattered.
BEN
I’d reluctantly left Dominic’s bed, finally managing to convince us both that I really needed some clean, dry clothes. Last night’s were still in a soggy pile on the bathroom floor, so I borrowed his robe to go down to my room.
“Save time in future and bring some more back with you,” he said, standing there unconcernedly naked and leaning in to kiss me.
I wasn’t a prude, by any stretch of the imagination, but I’d never been the kind of person to walk around naked.
I was very glad Dominic was, because the view was spectacular, and I also found myself reconsidering my previous life choices.
When I was with Dominic, it felt as if I were freer, somehow.
Which was ridiculous, because I’d never felt particularly constrained before.
But maybe I had been, without knowing it.
In my room, I dug out the duffle bag I’d brought with me, and packed a couple of days’ worth of clothes.
Then I thought about the last few days, and I added another couple of changes to cover any more unforeseen outdoor adventures.
At least today was bright and sunny, small white clouds chasing through the blue sky as if it were spring rather than autumn.
Boyfriend, he’d said. I’d been so swept up in the joy of being with him that I hadn’t really thought about identifying what this was between us. I’d just known it was important and good. But hearing Dominic call me his boyfriend had made me ridiculously happy.
I was digging out another jumper from the wardrobe when a folded piece of paper caught my eye. Of course, those drawings I’d found on my first day here. Now that I knew Dominic, I wanted to look at them again, if only to tease him for his lack of artistic ability.
The first one I drew out was… Well, I still couldn’t tell what that blob was supposed to be. The only clue was the line sticking out of the front. A unicorn? Rhinoceros? Abstract art?
But when I unfolded the next sheet of paper, my heart squeezed so tightly I thought it might stop beating entirely. I was never telling him about these drawings.
In bright purple crayon, three stick figures were drawn, the shortest one holding the hands of the two on either side. Two of them had black crayon hair, and the other’s hair was long and yellow. All three were smiling, and underneath in a very shaky hand was written Mummy, Daddy and Me.
Oh God, I was going to cry. I folded it up tight and shoved it right to the back of the shelf, where hopefully no one would find it for another century or two.
To think of little Dominic, with no idea of what life held for him, happily labouring over this.
To think there’d been a time when he’d held his father’s hand…
I zipped my bag shut, drew a deep breath, and headed back up to Dominic’s room.
I mustn’t let him suspect anything. I didn’t pity him—I was in awe at the way he’d survived.
I wasn’t at all sure I would have in his place.
But there was this little part of me that hurt so badly for the boy he’d been, and I was certain he’d hate it if he knew.
I paused outside his door long enough to get my expression under control, then knocked lightly against the wood before pushing it open.
Dominic was back in bed beneath approximately every blanket in the house, sprawled diagonally across the mattress with typical dragon territorial instincts. He looked up from his phone as I walked in.
“There you are,” he said. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen down the stairs.”
“Yet you didn’t come rushing to my aid?” I asked, dropping my bag beside the wardrobe.
“I would’ve come, once I’d finished researching how to build a trebuchet,” he assured me.
“Good to know my safety’s a priority.”
His gaze followed me as I crossed the room. Watching me closely, the way he did when he thought I wasn’t noticing.
“You okay?” he asked.
I thought of bright purple crayon. Of three smiling stick figures holding hands. God.
“Yes,” I lied.
His eyes narrowed at once. “That sounded suspiciously like a lie.”
“You’ve known me how long? You cannot possibly identify my lying voice already.”
“I’m very talented.”
I rolled my eyes and climbed back into bed, even though I was fully clothed. Before he could keep looking at me like that.
The instant I settled, he moved closer, warm beneath the blankets as he tucked himself against my side. Like this was already habit. Like we’d always done this.
It hurt so fiercely I had to close my eyes for a second. And when I opened them, I couldn’t help but reach out to brush his hair back from his face. God, he was beautiful.
“You’re being weird again,” Dominic informed me suspiciously.
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“Well,” I said, because I needed to say something before I got too emotional, “you’re very stare-at-able.”
That got a startled laugh out of him, and some of the heaviness lingering around him seemed to ease slightly. Not gone, but softer somehow.
His fingers slid lazily beneath the hem of my jumper, up under my t-shirt, coming to rest on my skin. “You know,” he murmured, “at some point we probably have to leave this bed.”
“That does sound unpleasant.”
“Tragic, honestly.”
For now, though, neither of us moved.
DOMINIC
By the time we made it out of bed, breakfast was so long over, Glenys was almost ready to serve lunch. We snagged toast and coffee anyway, and got out of the kitchen before she thought to ask us about the sodden, muddy boots by the back door from last night.
The records room still had that smell of dust and old paper. I hesitated slightly before walking in.
Ben noticed, of course, but all he said was, “I know I should be working on the early stuff, but I’m dying to find out your family’s version of peppercorn rents. I know it’s going to be nothing normal.”
I blinked at him. “What rents?”
“Peppercorn, when some kind of payment was needed to protect the landlord’s and tenant’s rights, but you didn’t want to fleece someone.
Oh, that’s a thought—I bet at least one person demanded a fleece or maybe a sheep in payment.
Anyway, sometimes it was nothing more than a single peppercorn or a pair of capons. ”
“What the fuck’s a capon?” I asked, dropping into my chair.
“They’re castrated cockerels.”
I stared at him.
“Well,” I said eventually, “that’s certainly a sentence.”
Ben snorted. And breathing became a little easier.
The morning settled around us almost normally after that.
Ben buried himself in records with frightening intensity while I prowled restlessly around the room, occasionally pretending to help while mostly distracting him.
Every now and then he’d read out another absurd rent payment, apparently delighted by the existence of medieval administrative nonsense.
At one point he looked up. “A red rose annually in June.”
“Honestly, I’d take that deal.”
“It’s symbolic.”
“I feel people should accept more symbolic payments in general. I could absolutely pay my taxes in vibes.”
Ben looked genuinely affronted. “That is not how taxation works.”
“Smash the system!” I demanded. “Give me liberty or give me death.”
His laugh warmed the part of my gut that had remained stubbornly cold since yesterday. A part that hadn’t relaxed with the rest of me.
I watched him for a moment while he scribbled notes with fierce concentration, sunlight catching warm in his hair.
Yesterday hadn’t gone away. It had left a bruise that I wasn’t sure would ever quite heal.
But Ben was here. Laughing with me over castrated chickens and impossible rents like none of it had changed what he saw when he looked at me.
Maybe that mattered more than a piece of paper.
“Have you found anything Arthurian yet?” I asked eventually. “Anything Mortimer might want to know about?”
Ben frowned thoughtfully. “Not really. A few scattered references to names that crop up in old legends, but that’s about it. Certainly nothing supporting Mordred as the rightful king.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, though it felt like a pretty good guiding principle to not want whatever Mortimer wanted.
“Evelyn’s mouth gets this weird pinch every time she mentions Mortimer,” Ben continued. “What d’you reckon your father thinks about whatever he’s up to?”
“I think he’s worried,” I said slowly. Rhodri didn’t usually worry about other people.
He simply bent them to his will. But when I thought about the conversations we’d had—well, the brief sentences we’d exchanged—and the fact he’d listened to my thoughts about Mortimer, it suggested he was anxious enough to forget his usual opinion of me.
But then, Rhodri had asked me to go with him to visit Anne, where I’d been able to sprinkle charm around to cover for his austereness. And that had nothing to do with Mortimer.
It seemed almost as if he’d changed his mind about me.
Yesterday’s record had made it painfully clear what he used to think, but things were different now.
The pieces of information he was sharing with me were very carefully selected, of course.
Going to wish an elderly member of the family a happy birthday was scarcely worth noticing for most people.
But the fact remained, just a few weeks ago, he’d never have included me.
I was beginning to dare to hope this was the start of something new.