Page 57 of Vanquished By A Viscount
Again, he was forced into silence as Miss Kennedy and one of the maids rushed past, eyeing them as they did. There was simply too much distraction all around them for either man to say what needed to be said.
All the same, Grayson mouthed the words, “I love you.”
Charlie felt those words in the core of his being, but he was no longer certain he trusted them. He turned to go, a heaviness hanging on his heart. What good was love when he would be separated from his lover by the entire world?
Eighteen
Grayson fully expected to pass a sleepless night by the time Robert took Barbara up to bed and the rest of the house party guests were finally persuaded to take to their beds again as well. He assisted the footmen in cleaning up as much as he could, but it was clear he did not have the stamina of a servant.
Once he finally did reach his bedroom, entering only after he gave the door to Charlie’s room a long, wistful look, and stripped out of his soaked and soot-stained clothing, he crawled right into his bed. But instead of tossing and turning, he sank into oblivion within minutes.
Of course, he did. His bed still smelled of Charlie and sex, two of the most comforting scents he knew.
He woke late the next morning, his head throbbing slightly. Paul had clearly already come and gone, performing his valet duties by picking up his discarded clothing, refilling his wash pitcher, and laying out fresh clothing for the day. Gray was grateful for that as he dragged himself out of bed, washed, and dressed. It would be a long and likely trying day.
Again, as he left his room, he stared longingly at Charlie’s bedroom door. The two of them needed to speak and clear theair, and they needed to do it as soon as possible. Gray had completely forgotten about Australia in the excitement of the last few days. Charlie’s reaction to the news of his intended travel had told him everything he needed to know about what his lover thought of the trip. It had also raised deep questions about whether Gray wanted to leave England at all at present.
He stepped toward Charlie’s door, intending to knock and then enter, but considered that at such a late morning hour, Charlie would already be downstairs. His stomach gave a growl, confirming him in the decision to seek out his beloved in the breakfast room rather than wasting time knocking on doors.
He should have trusted his first instinct. Charlie was not in the breakfast room. But huge helpings of sausage and eggs, sweet buns, and bacon were. Gray told himself that a twenty-minute delay while he broke his fast would not change the world.
“What a shock we all had last night!” Lady Winifred addressed Gray as soon as he was seated with cutlery in hand. “And to imagine that only hours before, we ladies had taken tea in that very same cottage.”
It took Gray a moment to realize the woman was addressing him. He blinked, a piece of sausage raised halfway to his mouth, then said, “None of us could have anticipated the lightning strike.”Or a great many other things, he thought as he popped the bit of sausage into his mouth. Like rekindling the love of his life just after he’d purchased passage to the other side of the globe.
As if the assembly at the table could hear his thoughts, Miss Martin said, “It must be terribly exciting, sailing away to Australia.”
Gray swallowed awkwardly and glanced up to find all eyes at the table on him. Including Howard’s. He had only barely acknowledged his old lover at the other end of the table.
“I made the arrangements for the journey many months ago,” he said as if defending himself, as if running away to Australia was a coward’s way out of…something.
“I have heard so many fascinating things about Australia,” Lady Eudora said, leaning close to Pettigrew and grasping his arm, as had become her habit. “Have you not heard many fascinating things about Australia, Dr. Pettigrew?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
Gray clenched his jaw as he observed the two of them for a moment. It seemed wildly unfair that a young woman like Lady Eudora could throw herself so publicly at a man, one who clearly did not want her, and all she was likely to receive was slight censure. Whereas if he so much as smiled too broadly at the man he loved and would gladly spend the rest of his life with, all of society would throw up their hands in offense, and he was as likely as not to be carted off to prison.
“I should like to visit Australia myself,” Pettigrew said, face red. He cleared his throat and subtly tugged his arm away from Lady Eudora’s. “Sincerely,” he went on in a flat voice, looking Gray dead in the eyes. “I should very much like to travel off to the other side of the world to try my fortunes there.”
Gray could not help but grin sympathetically as he gathered egg onto his fork.
“But why would you want to go so very far away?” Lady Eudora asked in distress. “There are so many lovely things for you right here.” She fluttered her eyelashes and thrust her ample bosom out.
Pettigrew turned even redder. He glanced across the table to Howard.
Howard pretended he was not aware of the conversation, but Gray knew the cheeky grin that danced across his lips well. He doubted very much that there was any great affection between Howard and Pettigrew. Howard did not partake ingreat affection or deep love, though he was one of the most amiable men Gray knew. But there had certainly been a bit of fun between the two men before the fire.
The mood in the breakfast room changed immediately when Robert strode in wearing a bandage around his right forearm and a serious face. “Grayson, might I speak with you a moment?” he asked, pausing just shy of the table without so much as looking at the food.
“Certainly,” Gray answered, pushing his chair back and standing. He grabbed the roll from his plate before stepping away from the table and following his brother into the hallway.
Robert did not stop there. He marched down the hall toward one of the exterior doors, which already stood open. “The cottage is a complete loss,” he said, speaking in his most serious voice. “The initial assessment by Mr. Wallace is that it was not in as good repair as it could have been. The state of the roof was poor. ‘A disaster waiting to happen’, he called it.”
Gray nodded gravely as they stepped out into the garden and headed across the still-wet grass to the charred and smoking remains of the gamekeeper’s cottage. “It seems the best course of action will be to raze the rest of it to the ground and perhaps build a newer and better gamekeeper’s lodgings elsewhere, if they are needed.”
“I am not certain they are needed,” Robert said. “The estate does not keep game anymore the way it once did.”
Gray hummed and clasped his hands behind his back as they came to a stop some distance away from the remains of the cottage. It was a pitiful sight, and seeing its remains filled Gray with a sense of dread. Was the cottage a metaphor for his attachment to Charlie? Were they a house that had seen better days? One that burned to the ground with just a single lightning strike?
He shook his head, having no wish to contemplate the worst outcome. Instead, he asked, “How fares Barbara this morning?” turning toward his brother and away from the specter of destruction that felt too close to home.
