Page 54 of Once a Gentleman
Which meant that something had changed.
Kit went to stand by the fireplace, staring down into the blaze and leaning his arm on the mantel and his forehead on his arm. He hadn’t yet made up his mind what he would do once the seven days he had given Andrew were at an end.
Or rather, he had not yet admitted to himself that he no longer had the luxury of choice.
The thought of Andrew leaving him, sailing away to God, or the Admiralty, only knew where and for how long, left him…well, nauseated and panicky, as if Andrew’s possibly impending departure were an emergency rather than something to be expected of a naval officer.
As if Kit didn’t know how he would bear the separation.
He had meant to go at the end of a week, and he still ought to. Nothing guaranteed that Andrew’s passion would even last so long as that—although he had certainly been intent and enthusiastic enough that morning.
It seemed to take a very long time, but at last he heard movement and voices in the hall, and then the front door opened and shut again.
Another endless moment passed. Footsteps approached and Andrew entered the study, shutting the door quietly behind him and turning the key in the lock. He had something of the same unsettled air about him as Kit felt in himself, with his cheeks flushed and his hair rumpled as if he’d run his hands through it, and tension clinging to the lines of his shoulders.
“There’s no better way to say this than at once,” he began abruptly. “Captain O’Neill has just been and gone. We sail in ten days.”
Kit tried and failed to suppress his flinch of dismay. He had expected something like this, but now that Andrew had said the words aloud, the reality loomed all too stark before him.
“So quickly,” he stammered. “Was your ship not many weeks from completion of the refit? How has it been hastened so much?”
“Timber is scarce,” Andrew said, “and part of the delay rested upon that. The Admiralty has their own reasons for wishing theHoratioto sail sooner than planned. They have diverted resources to our ship and away from others. Presumably there is another ship’s captain now cursing the Naval Office for giving us the mainmast he ought to have had.”
“Their own reasons?”
Andrew shook his head. “I trust you implicitly, but I may not tell you where we sail, or why, upon this occasion,” he said rather stiffly. Kit almost took offense—but no. Andrew did not speak so because he didn’t believe in Kit’s discretion, but rather out of the fear that Kitwouldtake offense, when Andrew could do nothing to assuage it without failing in his duty.
“I understand,” Kit said, and had the satisfaction of seeing Andrew ease a trifle. “I wouldn’t ask you to tell me anything you’re not at liberty to reveal. I only—” He stopped, biting his lip, unable to think of any way to express his thoughts that would not reveal far too much of his feelings.
The urge to run to Andrew and tear off his clothes had to be resisted as well. Good God, they had so little time…but had not Kit meant to go in five more days, in any case?
Andrew advanced at last, slowly, as if he thought Kit might make a break for it if he made any sudden moves.
“You only what, Kit?”
“Nothing, I don’t know what I meant to say.”
“Liar,” Andrew said, but with a fond smile that took any sting out of it. He stopped a mere foot away, near enough that Kit had to tip his head up a little to look into his eyes. “I won’t press you. On that point, at least. But—Kit, you must tell me what you mean to do,” he said in a rush, as if the words had built up in him with a pressure that couldn’t be denied. “Whether you mean to stay. I cannot—I cannot—”
Andrew stopped, swallowing hard. Kit couldn’t look away from his eyes. Whatever shone in those blue depths caught and held him, and made his breath catch in his throat besides.
His heart pounded, his palms clammy with nerves. Andrew would renew his expressions of love, would perhaps beg Kit to stay. And Kit knew, as surely as he knew he had hidden a jar of salve in the desk drawer, that he would be unable to resist either giving in to Andrew’s pleas or the temptation of putting the jar to use.
Andrew hesitated. And then at last he said, “I cannot go to sea with my business affairs unsettled. It would be a great kindness, a favor, if you would commit to remaining here as my secretary and my proxy until I return.”
Kit stared at him, stunned beyond belief.
His secretary.
Hisproxy.
His bloody business affairs, afavor, until he returned.
Andrew wavered in his suddenly blurry vision. Oh God, no, he could not weep, that would be a mortification to end all others. He had been the one to demand Andrew say nothing more about love, had he not? And now he would possibly never hear those words again.
He strode to the desk, his back to Andrew, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes. “Of course,” he said, too quickly, “I will be more than willing to attend to your affairs in your absence. Perhaps while you’re gone I may begin the search for my replacement, if, that is, you would trust me to do so. I will consult Mr. Robinson—”
Kit broke off with a squeak of surprise as strong arms wrapped around him from behind, jerking him flush against Andrew’s body. Andrew nuzzled his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Kit’s spine.
