Dances Long Forgotten

by Ruby Moone

  He was silent for a long time, but Hugo couldn’t speak. Couldn’t tear his eyes from Simon’s grief.

  “She died in my arms the following day.” He swallowed. “Half an hour before the minister arrived.”

  Hugo pressed a hand to his mouth. Simon was silent for long moments as he gathered himself.

  “I went home. Took you with me. Mother had just arrived home from her trip on the continent, so I threw myself on her mercy. Begged for her to help. I had no idea how to care for an infant, no idea how to present the situation to the world and protect my sisters, the family reputation, but I was determined to keep you even though I could never claim you as my rightful heir.” He shook his head.

  Hugo swiped at his eyes.

  “Eventually, Mother and Father decided that they would bring you up as theirs. Hide the fact that the heir to the Winsford Marquisate had an illegitimate child. Say Mother had been away in confinement, and that the babe was now born, and you would be my brother.” He looked away. “I didn’t want to. I wanted the world to know, and more importantly, you to know, that you were my son and that I was proud to own you.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Father threatened to disown me. He couldn’t disinherit me, but he could cut off all financial support. Everything I had, everything I owned came from him. He told me there was nothing but honorary titles and the clothes that I stood in. He threatened to take it all away. I was too young, too foolish, too grief stricken to think clearly. To take sensible advice and find out if I could manage somehow.” He closed his eyes. “I agreed.”

  “You didn’t say anything when we lost Mother and Father.”

  Simon flinched and shook his head. “It didn’t seem the right time.”

  “I might have appreciated knowing that I still have a father.”

  Simon nodded. “I know, but I didn’t think you’d be able to understand at that age.”

  “When I was older?”

  “You were enjoying school; you went to university…” He shrugged. “I set you up in London and let you enjoy being a young, unencumbered man. You seemed perfectly happy as you were, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that to you.”

  Hugo shook his head. “I hated every moment of school. I never fit in. I was bullied, beaten, terrified…” He swallowed. “Cambridge was better, but by then I knew I was different.”

  He regretted saying it as soon as he saw the look on Simon’s face.

  “My God, I’d no idea. What happened?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “It really doesn’t.”

  Simon stared at his hands. “I should have told you much sooner.”

  Hugo nodded stiffly. “You should. You really should.”

  “So, you told everyone that you were a widower.”

  “I was tired of being hounded by the mamas of the Ton. I have a title, people find me personable, it was tired of everyone setting their caps at me. I let it be known that I’d been married in my youth, nursed a broken heart, and would never marry again. In effect, it was true.”

  Hugo raised a brow. “I imagine that had exactly the opposite effect to that which you desired?”

  A smile edged into the tenseness of Winsford’s mouth. “You suppose right. It simply made them more determined. Apparently, a pining heart is a much-prized goal. Particularly when the owner is a peer of the realm.”

  Hugo smiled with him, and they were silent for long moments.

  “Might I ask you something?”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “Well, if you loved my mother, how are you now involved with Edgar Hessledon? You said you were like me.”

  To Hugo’s surprise, Winsford blushed. He cleared his throat.

  “Well, when I said I was like you, I might not have been entirely honest.” He cleared his throat again. “Edgar has never found women attractive. Never taken a woman to his bed. His affections appear reserved solely for men.” He looked up at Hugo. “Are you like that?”

  Hugo thought for a moment, then nodded. He liked women, but he’d never found them arousing.

  Winsford swallowed. “Well, I find both men and women attractive. It seems it’s possible for me to fall in love with either.”

  “Truly?”

  Winsford nodded.

  Hugo thought for a moment. “I have a friend like that. Equally at home in bed with a man as with a woman.”

  “You’re not shocked?”

  Hugo was, but not by that revelation. “No. Not at all.”

  Winsford stood up. “I imagine it might take you some time to come to terms with this.”

  “Do the whole family know?”

  “They all know about the fact that I’m your father. Vincent and Jossy know that I’ve been involved with another man. That’s too much of a secret to ask the girls to keep from their husbands.”

  Hugo nodded and they sat in awkward silence for a moment.

  “I should go. Edgar and Lyndon are waiting outside. They’ll be cold.”

  Lyndon is outside?

  “Might we part friends?”

  Hugo looked at his brother, no, his father, and felt dazed, but nodded.

  “Thank you, it’s more than I deserve.” He hesitated. “I know I can never take Father’s place in your affections, but if we could begin as friends, I would consider it an honour.”

  Hugo had the strongest suspicion that he could. He’d never been close to his father at all. Never felt to measure up, never seen the slightest affection from him. Now he knew why. He looked at the man he’d always thought of as his brother and realised that he’d always been the one who loved and cared for him. Father had always been hardest on Simon, and it all made sense now. The anger and confusion he’d felt gave way to something else. Something he couldn’t quite name. Something warm. As though the world had shifted beneath him and in so doing, made him feel as though he might be comfortable with his place in it.

  Hugo nodded. He stood up and nodded again, the feeling blossoming and taking root. “Friends.”

  Winsford stood too, clamped his jaw shut, and a muscle ticked along it. He noted Simon’s eyes were damp and the tenuous feeling solidified.

  He held out a hand to shake, and Simon took it, held it for a moment, then shook slowly.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Hugo muttered and pulled him into an embrace. He could feel how shocked Simon was, but then his arms tightened fiercely and Hugo felt for the first time in his life the one thing he’d never had. His father’s love, his father’s embrace.

  “My boy.” His father’s words were a hoarse whisper.

  When they pulled apart, both needed a handkerchief. The coughed and repaired themselves, taking deep breaths.

  “I’d best let them in.”

  Simon nodded, so Hugo headed for the door and pulled it open. Huddled in the hallway were Edgar Hessledon and Lyndon. When he put his head around, they both jumped.

  “How are you?” Lyndon came to stand in front of him.

  “I’m well. You’d best both come in.”

  He stood back and let them pass. They joined Simon in the small parlour, and he threw more logs on the fire. It was the strangest gathering. He wasn’t sure what to say or do, so he offered them all brandy. They almost fell over themselves to accept, each trying terribly hard to be convivial, pretend that everything was perfectly normal. Hessledon was watching Simon like a cat watches a bird. One move to leave and he’d pounce. Lyndon was following his every move with wide, wary eyes. Simon was staring into the fire as if it might hold some answers.

  When each had a glass, he held his aloft. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

  The three men looked at him.

  Hugo looked at Simon. “To fathers.”

  Hessledon and Lyndon exchanged a swift, hopeful look. Simon stood a little taller as they toasted fathers.

  “If I might be so bold?” They all looked at Hessledon as he spoke. “To love. In all its
guises.”

  Chapter 14

  His father and Edgar left, leaving him standing in front of the fire with Lyndon, stunned at how quickly, how easily, he could think of Winsford as his father.

  “Are you still terribly angry with me?” Lyndon fidgeted anxiously.

  Hugo hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I can see why you didn’t speak up. Not your secret to tell?”

  “Yes. I didn’t like it, though. Not at all.”

  Hugo nodded.

  Lyndon appeared to wait for him to speak.

  He looked so handsome, his silky, fair hair framing his fine-boned face. Those eyes that could be inscrutable were filled with wary emotion. Nothing hidden, nothing masked.

  “Are you angry with Winsford?”

  Hugo shrugged. Was he angry? He was at first, but listening to his story, his most overwhelming feeling was sadness.

  “I am, but he explained to me what happened.” He took a deep breath and briefly recapped the bones of the story for Lyndon.

  “Hard to be angry with him when he’s already suffered so much.” Hugo ran a hand through his hair.

  “You should be his heir. Doesn’t that make you angry?”

  “Not a bit. Vincent is welcome to it. I would make a dreadful Marquis.” It was true. He couldn’t think of anything worse. It was hard enough coming to terms with being at odds with the rest of his society because of who he loved. He couldn’t really imagine combining that with the need to manage being a peer of the realm. “I really don’t know how Simon does it.”

  “I think that’s why he tried to end it with Edgar. Too much to bear, too much to hide.”

  Hugo scratched his chin. “Too much to lose.”

  They both nodded and were silent for a moment. Lyndon broke it.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but whilst we were outside, I talked a little with Edgar about your future.”

  Hugo frowned. “My future? What do you mean?”

  Lyndon shifted. “Well, you said that you wanted to do something. Be useful? Not only be a man about town, but your interests were in books and that didn’t seem to go down too well with your family.”

  Hugo huffed a sad laugh. “Something of an understatement, but yes, that’s about the sum of it.”

  “Well, a career in politics might be something that would interest you.”

  “I can’t exactly see myself as a Member of Parliament.” He frowned at the thought.

  “You don’t have to be a member and there are so many other things. The Foreign Office for one thing.” Lyndon gave him a smile. “They have a spectacular library.”

  Hugo smiled as a memory came back to him. “So I believe. Met the librarian not long ago. Chap called Hertslet?”

  “The very one. He’s a good man. It might be possible to get a sinecure. If not, a clerkship. It might not pay well, but it would be a start. There’s the Home Office too?”

  “It does sound interesting. Anything would be better than what I’m doing now, but I worry…”

  “Hugo,” Lyndon took both his hands and held them tightly. “Don’t let the fact that you prefer men exclude you from living your best life. You’d be astonished how many of us there are. You just have to learn to take care. Living carefully is what we do. What your broth…sorry, father does. What Edgar does. What I do. We dance alongside the world. Part of it, yet not.”

  Hugo felt something shift inside him. “Dances long forgotten.”

  “What?”

  “It’s what you wrote when you left me a note. Dances long forgotten. It seems there are a lot of dances I don’t know yet.”

  A warm smile curved Lyndon’s lips. “We could learn them together.”

  He’d always felt off kilter in the world. Always felt that he must keep to the edges. The notion that he didn’t belong was terribly strong. He felt set aside from his family by virtue of his age, set aside from his school friends because of the relentless bullying, set aside from his peers and the rest of society because he didn’t want to bed women. The thought that he wasn’t alone and on the outside any more made him lightheaded. As though he’d just drunk a whole bottle of champagne.

  Yesterday, he’d been a bored, orphaned, miserable sodomite wasting his life, trying to find space to live alongside people he knew would send him to the pillory, or the gallows if they knew about him. And today, here he was. He had a father who loved and cared for him. The boys at school who were hideous bullies had turned into hideous men, and he didn’t need to be one of them. A goodly proportion of the finest men of London society, including his father, were at home in the bedchamber of other men. Just like him.

  He nodded, frowning.

  Lyndon let go of his hands. “If I’ve caused you pain, you have my unreserved apology.”

  Hugo looked at him and his chest fluttered at the worry in Lyndon’s eyes. This beautiful man had cared for him, comforted him, even planned a future for him that involved books… He nodded again, unable to find the words he needed to convey just how much he appreciated him.

  Lyndon looked down. “I should probably leave. You have much to come to terms with.”

  Hugo braced himself and cleared his throat. “Could I ask something of you?”

  “Anything.”

  “Would you…hold me?”

  Lyndon’s eyes widened. “Oh, Christ, Hugo, of course.” He closed the gap between them and wrapped him in a tight, fierce embrace. Hugo pushed his face into the warmth of Lyndon’s neck, and held on as hard as he could. They stood like that for a long time and Hugo let the warmth soak into his bones. Allowed himself to feel at peace with it, with Lyndon, with himself.

  Lyndon was the first to pull back so he could look at him. “Better?”

  Hugo smiled into his eyes. “Most definitely. Thank you.”

  “My greatest pleasure.”

  Lyndon brought a hand around to caress Hugo’s face and he pushed his cheek into his palm, closing his eyes as he did so. He turned his head further and pressed a kiss to his palm.

  “I’m sorry I’ve made such a mull of everything,” Lyndon said. “Perhaps one day you could forgive me?”

  There really wasn’t anything to forgive. Hugo looked at Lyndon, head on one side.

  “Perhaps.”

  Lyndon’s smile was tentative. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

  “Anything?”

  Something of the heat that was pooling in his stomach must have shown because Lyndon’ s eyes went dark.

  “Anything.”

  “Come to bed with me.”

  Lyndon closed his eyes and swallowed. “Willingly.”

  Hugo stepped forward and took hold of his hand. He guided him to his bedchamber, threw more logs on the fire, and in front of the blaze, they very carefully undressed one another until both stood naked and aroused. Firelight played over the planes of Lyndon’s slender, pale body but his gaze appeared fixed on Hugo in a most gratifying way.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, making Hugo flush.

  “Not as beautiful as you.”

  They smiled at each other, and the words that had been bubbling so close to the surface suddenly seemed right and proper. With everything that had gone between them, Hugo wanted whatever happened next to be honest. The words were there, but the thought of speaking them made him feel more naked than standing before him, with no clothes on, erect.

  “What is it?”

  Hugo squared his shoulders. “I need to say something to you.”

  Lyndon swallowed, and his chin dipped. He nodded, and waited, not looking at him, and it occurred to Hugo that the man thought he was going to berate him.

  He moved closer, took hold of his hand, and kissed the back.

  “I need to be honest with you and tell you that…that…” He cleared his throat. “I love you.”

  Lyndon’s gaze shot to his, eyes wide, filled with hope and something else that made Hugo’s heart hammer even more in his chest.

  “Oh, Hugo,” he whispered. “O
h, Hugo. I have loved you since I was a boy. I loved you in school, and I love you now.” He slid both hands along Hugo’s jaw, searched his eyes for a moment, and then kissed him with unspeakable tenderness. “I will always love you.”

  Lyndon rested his forehead against Hugo’s and Hugo let his eyes flutter closed.

  “I loved you in school too. So much. It’s always been you.”

  They stood together, swaying gently.

  “It feels like nothing was as it seemed,” Hugo whispered.

  Lyndon brought up a hand and cupped the back of his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault my whole life is a lie.”

  Lyndon pulled back and looked down at him. “Now that’s a little blue devilled, even for you.”

  Hugo’s lips twitched. “Maybe.”

  “Winsford’s a good man. He loves you.”

  Hugo nodded and sighed. “I love him too.” He shrugged awkwardly. “I have a father.” His smile spread as the truth warmed him. “A father who cares about me, loves me, and loved me enough not to give me up.”

  “That’s the ticket.”

  “We could be a family. Couldn’t we? Unconventional, but a family nonetheless.”

  Lyndon nodded. “I would like that. And you did offer for me…”

  Hugo smiled. It felt as though his smile went on and on. “And you did accept.”

  “Without hesitation.”

  Hugo pulled back and tugged the signet ring from his finger. It was a heavy, gold affair. His father, well, his grandfather, had given it to him when he attained his majority. It had a sapphire in the middle.

  “Come here.” He pulled Lyndon until he was facing him in front of the fire. “With this ring, I thee wed.” He tried to put the ring onto Lyndon’s finger, but it was too small. He slid it onto his little finger instead, amongst much soft gasps and laughter.

  “If I knew the words properly, I’d recite them,” Hugo muttered.

  “For richer for poorer, for better for worse?” Lyndon said, looking at the ring, then back at Hugo.

  “Till death us to part?”

  “Sickness and in health?”

  “Something about worldly goods?”