Page 48 of A Gentleman's Wager
“I’m full of them.”
Lucerne sprang to his feet. “Let’s race.”
“No,” Charles’s groan echoed from his boots. “We’ve only just sat down.”
Vaughan met Lucerne’s gaze, saw the laughter in their twinkling depths, then they were both running.
“Last to the steeple pays the tab at the Golden Cock,” Lucerne called over his shoulder
Charles staggered to his feet, all red face and brown corduroy. “Marlinscar, you confounded popinjay.”
Giggling like boys, they scrambled down the grassy slope. A half mile of rugged pasture lay between them and the village of Reeth. At the end of the gorge, Vaughan leaped the stream and heard Lucerne splash through just behind him. They were an even match. Lucerne a fraction taller, but Vaughan lighter built and more athletic. Their pace slowed a fraction as they ploughed through the thicker grass, where the ground remained boggy after the rain. His soles squelched in the mud. There remained nothing in it. By the time they emerged onto the grazing field that bordered the church, they were neck and neck racing for the kissing gate.
They could only pass through one at a time.
Vaughan veered right, pushed off the top of the low church wall and cleared it in an easy bound. He landed heavily on the opposite side, had to duck to avoid laying himself out on a huge granite cross and saw Lucerne sprint ahead. Kicking with his last reserves, Vaughan chased him the remaining hundred yards to the church door. Lucerne beat him by a fraction of a second.
Bent and panting, they staggered about the leafy porch. Vaughan rubbed the sweat from his palm on the leg of his breeches, then offered Lucerne his hand. They shook warmly.
“I’d never have won but for that wall.” Lucerne straightened his back, then coughed the phlegm from his throat as he continued to smile. “God, I haven’t run like that in years. I’m knackered. That was hard work.”
“I daresay Charles will feel so too.”
Lucerne shielded his eyes and turned to look for him. “I do believe that’s him coming.” A blurry figure was moving slowly towards them in the distance.
“Quick.” Vaughan grasped Lucerne’s sleeve and tugged him along the uneven path around the side of the church. They scrambled between the blackberry bush and the vestry steps and fell onto the grass snickering behind a high, boxy sepulchre.
The sun was warm against Vaughan’s chest. He lay still for a moment listening to the birdsong and the sound of his own breathing. Knelt beside him, Lucerne cautiously peeped around the edge of the tomb. Vaughan tugged at his coat. “Get down. He’ll see you.”
Lucerne allowed himself to be pulled back. He fell to the grass beside Vaughan and rolled onto his back, stifling his laughter. Charles’s voice drifted towards them on a breeze that smelled of ripe berries. Vaughan looked down into Lucerne’s bright cornflower-blue eyes and sighed. Instantly, all the humour vanished from Lucerne’s face. His lips thinned and the warmth faded from his gaze.
“Vaughan, we have to talk,” he mouthed.
Vaughan shook his head almost imperceptibly. “What’s to be said?”
He could not hold Lucerne’s gaze. Could not bear to see the rejection in his eyes. Instead, he shifted to watch the rise and fall of his friend’s chest. He truly believed that after everything, Lucerne’s defences might have shown at least an appreciable crack.
“I’m sorry, Vaughan. I know what you want, but…” Lucerne touched his ringlets, unintentionally brushing the skin of his cheek. The caress might have been well-meant, but it stung as viciously as any slap.
“Don’t pity me. Don’t you dare.”
Lucerne shifted uncomfortably, drawing back his hand and laying it palm up on the grass. Was it not the ultimate gesture of surrender? Vaughan pinned his wrist.
“Vaughan?” Lucerne’s startled exhalation brushed his cheek, as Vaughan lowered his mouth to kiss him.
“Ho, found you.” Charles leaned over the top of the sepulchre, right as their lips were about to brush. Vaughan jerked away sharply and rolled on to his side. Beside him, Lucerne sat bolt upright.
“What the devil are you doing?”
“Nothing.” Lucerne’s voice sounded gratingly sharp. Vaughan watched him pull himself to his feet and brush down his breeches. “Let’s go for that drink.”
“Of course, of course. Never let it be said that I back out of a wager. The Golden Cock? It has the finest ales, porters and small beers around, although I suppose such beverages will be wasted on your lordships. You’ll be wanting sherry or Madeira,” he finished dubiously.
Vaughan caught Charles eyeing them suspiciously. Aubury wasn’t as simple as he made out. At the very least, he was now wondering how far their friendship went.
Let him wonder. Vaughan had never been afraid of his own proclivities, and he wasn’t the only man among the nobility that sought the affections of both men and women. He graced Charles with a lecherous grin and enjoyed the startled-rabbit response. They might have to talk later about ill-timed intrusions.
Lucerne offered him a hand up and he accepted it graciously. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before Lucerne turned away and led them into the lane. All that remained unsaid would have to wait a fraction longer.
