Page 46 of Two Rogues Make a Right
“I read Will’s draft of the new play this morning,” Martin said, because this was why he had come downstairs in the first place. “I assume you haven’t touched it yet?”
“Not yet.”
“It’s... filled with... feelings. Will’s feelings. He just... puts them in the play, for actors to read and for all the world to see. I don’t know how he can be like that.”
Hartley gave him an odd look. “That’s why I begged him to let me rewrite his first play. I had to. It was—it made mecry. I couldn’t let other people see it, and also no audience wants to sit there and cry without a little bit of comedy to serve as a shield.”
“And you’ll do the same with this play?”
“That’s the idea. He writes the sentiment, I dress it up in cleverness so it isn’t quite so naked, I suppose.”
“Oh, thank God.” Martin felt wildly grateful. “Obviously, if he wanted to just put his heart out there for all the world to see, that would be his choice. And I suppose it’s worth something that even after everything, his heart is so—” He swallowed. “There’s no ugliness in there.”
“No defenses, either,” Hartley murmured.
“I’m glad you’re there to protect him,” Martin said. He glanced at Hartley, and to his surprise, the man was smiling—a tiny twist on one side of his mouth, but still it counted.
“That was exactly my thought. I said as much to Sam and he thought I had run mad. But he didn’t know Will before, so he doesn’t understand. There’s still a bit of tea left in the pot, if you don’t mind it being a bit stewed. You’ll find a cup on the dresser.”
Martin realized he was being issued an invitation, and he seized it. When he returned to the table, teacup in hand, Hartley was watching him and not bothering to hide it.
“Thank you for bringing him home yesterday.”
“I’ll always do my best by him. I hope you know that this winter, I didn’t ask him to walk away from his life here to look after me.”
Hartley looked puzzled, then opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the door opening.
“Good morning,” Will said, still bleary-eyed and sleep rumpled. “My two favorite people,” he said, smiling crookedly. He squeezed Martin’s shoulder and reached over to ruffle Hartley’s hair.
Hartley swatted his hand away, then got up and pushed Will into the empty seat. “I’ll make more tea.”
“Where is everybody?” Will asked, yawning.
“It’s past nine,” Hartley said. “Closer to ten. Sadie and the baby are doing the marketing, Sam’s waiting for a delivery from the brewery, Nick and Alf are in the kitchen, haven’t seen Kate since yesterday, and Sam’s aunts and cousins are everywhere, threatening to feed me if they catch me without food in my mouth. Beware.” Hartley flushed slightly at the end of this recitation, and Martin marveled at having lived to see Hartley Sedgwick look so pleased. Hartley murmured something about inventory and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
“Do you have anywhere you need to be today?” Will asked, spooning tea leaves into the pot.
“Nothing in particular, but at some point I ought to reassure my aunt that I’m alive.”
Will looked up, alarmed. “I didn’t even think about that. Will she be frantic that you were gone all night?”
“She was aware that I might not return. She knows how things are between us. She guessed, that day at the cottage,” Martin said, recalling how he had felt the previous afternoon when he realized Will could be open around his brother, and understanding that he might have something similar with his aunt.
“Oh,” Will said, pouring the now-boiling water into the pot. “She’s trustworthy?”
“Yes,” Martin said, surprised to feel defensive about his aunt. “And I never actually confirmed her suppositions. I only refrained from denying them.” He didn’t say that it had been rather nice to be known, and to not be reviled. “I hope you know I’d never be reckless with your safety.”
Will nodded. “I do know that. I’m just... not exactly overflowing with trust in the aristocracy, present company excluded. While we’re on the topic, Hartley knows, of course. And if Hartley knows, then Sam knows.”
“Mr. Fox kissed Hartley in front of me, so I’m aware of that situation.”
“Did he?” Will poured tea first into Martin’s now-empty cup and then into his own. “There are a handful of safe people here, people who know about Hartley and Sam. And quite a few people involved with the theater know about my, um, amatory habits, who would be safe for us to be ourselves around.”
Martin turned that thought over in his mind. Will had an entire community of people with whom he could be himself. This city that seemed intent on ruining Martin’s health had also provided Will with friends, family, safety, a career. Will’s life was in precisely the place where Martin needed not to be.
Chapter Nineteen
Martin knew he had no particular talent for polite conversation, but before his night with Will he had been getting on tolerably well.
