Page 37 of The Lawrence Browne Affair
Georgie climbed down from the ladder. A patch of plaster landed at his feet. He sighed and kicked it away before carrying the ladder to the next window.
In Falmouth, Georgie had spent more money than he had over the course of his entire life. He had acquired everything from beeswax candles to the servants who would light them. He ransacked his memory for every convenience and ornament a gentleman’s house ought to have.
Georgie was determined that the poor child—which was how he persisted in thinking of this heir to an earldom—feel like he was welcome and wanted.
Extending a warm welcome to a young lordling ought to be the last thing in the world Georgie gave a damn about, but the necessity of making things right for this child was also the only thing Georgie knew to be an immutable truth, so he clung to it with both hands.
He needed things to be right for young Simon Browne. More than that, he needed Lawrence to get it right.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Returning from his walk, Lawrence found Georgie in the study, tacking bolts of cloth to the walls.
“What the—”
“This felt will muffle the sound and give you some peace,” Georgie called over his shoulder.
Lawrence trailed a finger over the lengths of coarse dark material that now lined his walls. It was true; he could hardly hear the commotion downstairs.
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for thinking of it.”Thank you for knowing, he wanted to say. He shouldn’t be surprised that Georgie knew how much Lawrence valued his silence.
Georgie spared him only a glance by way of recognition. “The maids will clean this part of the house on Wednesday afternoons, during which time you may make yourself scarce or scowl silently or whatever pleases your lordship. Regardless, I will be present to ensure that none of your more lethal equipment is interfered with.”
This was less tolerable, but still Lawrence grunted his assent.
“When the child comes, dinner will be served in the dining parlor at six o’clock.”
No. “To hell with this—”
“It’s a meal, Lawrence. Not a ritual sacrifice. Just sit there and bear it. There will be one footman present. If you play your cards right, the only people you’ll have to see all day are your son and one or two servants, both of whom will be instructed not to be alarmed if you act like a perfect savage.”
Lawrence shut his eyes and drew in a breath. He did not want to be forced out of his sanctuary; he did not want to sit at a long table and endure the stares of servants. He couldn’t conceive of a single sane thing he could say to Simon, and the very idea of seeing the child he had last held as an infant threatened to short circuit his brain. “And you,” he said.
“Pardon?”
“I will also see you.”
Georgie looked startled, which was to say that his usual mask of cool composure slipped for the merest instant. “I thought you didn’t mind me. Not two hours ago it was ‘I need you, Georgie,’ unless you only said those things to be gallant?”
Lawrence was so astonished by this image of himself being gallant that he let out a crack of laughter. And then he saw the answering smile on Georgie’s face, lighting it up like a candle.
“You caught me out,” he said, trying for a light tone, “telling falsehoods to flatter everyone around me.”
Something shifted in Georgie’s expression. “No, I daresay falsehood and flattery are notyourabiding sins.” He returned his attention to the felt.
There was an emphasis on theyourthat made Lawrence want to say that it was all right, that Georgie’s secrets didn’t matter, whatever they were. But he still didn’t know the exact nature of the man’s secrets, and he was afraid that by asking he would ruin everything between them, so he said nothing. Instead he came up behind Georgie, resting a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re doing the right thing,” Georgie said, putting his hand over Lawrence’s. “That’s all.” Suddenly, he pivoted, and his arms were around Lawrence’s neck, his lips against Lawrence’s cheek. Lawrence was too startled to do anything but put a steadying hand to Georgie’s hip.
“What was that for?” Lawrence asked, his mouth almost touching the secretary’s ear.
“A kiss for luck.”
“Only for luck?” Lawrence asked, bringing his other hand to Georgie’s face. The man looked weary. He had dark smudges under his eyes. Lawrence bent his head to kiss one, then the other. As Georgie’s eyes fluttered closed, a puff of air escaped his lips. “You’re done for the day. Go to bed. That’s an order.”
“I can’t,” Georgie protested, sinking against Lawrence’s chest. “My bed is covered in bolts and bolts of fabric. It was the only place I could think where they wouldn’t get dusty. And none of the other bedchambers are clean yet.” He glanced up at Lawrence in a way that seemed to ask a question.
“I have a perfectly good bed. Right over there, in fact.” He gestured with his chin towards his bedchamber while tugging Georgie closer with both hands. “Big, too.” It was large enough for them to sleep without even touching, if that was what Georgie had in mind. But even now Georgie was unbuttoning Lawrence’s coat, so it looked like that was not what he wanted after all. Lawrence took hold of Georgie’s hands, pulling them away from his coat.
