by Alex Jane
The closer he'd come to the dining room, the more the house had come alive, not least due to the sounds of lively conversation that came from it. The chatter had halted somewhat when he had entered, finding the pack busy laying the table and setting out the food. Once they'd seen it was him, the discussion had started back up again, although Ruth had scolded him when he'd rushed to grab the napkins from the sideboard and had started to fold them ready to place next to each plate. When the hall clock had chimed the hour—a deep, satisfying sound—Nathaniel finally made an appearance and soon the awkward air that had been between them returned.
Dinner had been…strange. Nathaniel had appeared to want nothing more than to eat in silence. Gabriel had tried to start up a conversation more than once but after receiving a response consisting only of a series of grunts from his new husband, he'd shut up entirely. What had made the atmosphere worse was the odd looks the rest of the pack, particularly Ruth and Solomon, had been giving Nathaniel through the whole meal.
Once they had finished eating, Nathaniel had abruptly stood and excused himself, saying that he had work to finish, leaving Gabriel to look forlornly at his retreating back and the swinging of the door as the man had limped away.
Worse still, Ruth had forbade him from lifting a finger to help with the clearing up, forcing him to eat another slice of the admittedly excellent cake while the others had cleared the table and no doubt spent a fair amount of time cleaning in the kitchen too while he'd sat idle, feeling guilty and more out of place than he had been in his entire life.
In the end, it had been Solomon who had thankfully suggested that he must be tired after his long day and might like an early night, giving Gabriel the excuse he'd needed to scurry away to his room like an unwelcome guest. The wine he'd consumed after dinner and the strain of the day had actually realized Solomon's prediction and before too long Gabriel had fallen into a deep sleep.
The new day meant a fresh start to this new life of his, such as it might be. He was of two minds about rising so early, as was his habit, but after dressing and making his way downstairs sounds from the kitchen told him at least he wasn't the first awake.
Surprisingly, it was Abel he found stoking the fire while a pot of coffee heated on the stove. "An early bird?" Abel smiled at Gabriel over his shoulder as he came in.
"Looks as if I'm not the only one. I thought the others might be up by now."
Abel shook his head and brought down a cup to join its twin on the table. "Not likely. Ruth and Solomon should be up shortly, and Eunice isn't as bad as some, though Ruth indulges her and lets her sleep in mostly. The Alpha won't surface until later, although he's excused being he would have been up working later than any of us."
"Well, I didn't do a lick of anything yesterday so I hope you'll put me to work today. I hate being at a loose end."
Abel paused and looked Gabriel over before he turned to get the coffee pot and filled the mugs on the table to brimming. "How do you feel about livestock?"
Gabriel shrugged and took one of the cups when it was offered to him. "I know which end of a horse to feed and which end to clean up after, if that's what you mean."
Abel let out a snort of laughter and took a drink, wincing when the coffee was too hot. "Well, we have a couple of them that need tending to, plus eggs to fetch and traps to check. I'd be happy of the help if you think you can hold out for breakfast."
"Sounds like a good way to build up an appetite, I'd say."
It turned out to be just that. Abel was good company, being about the same age as Gabriel, and the two of them worked happily together for the next couple of hours. After a quick orientation of the stable, showing where the tack was kept, and giving an introduction to the two draft horses and the imposing but friendly stallion who was Nathaniel's riding horse and the sweet, skittish filly of Priscilla's, Gabriel was happy to haul bags of feed and aid with the mucking out. The small enclosure of the chickens, ducks, and quail was right next door and between them they managed to get a fair basket of eggs without getting pecked by them or the utterly terrifying goose that lorded over them. There was no milk cow, Nathaniel preferring to pay a premium to the local greengrocer to provide something better than swill milk along with cheese and butter, as well as anything the household needed. The exception being rabbit, of which there was an issue on the property—or a blessing depending which way you looked at it. The two men took a wide lap around the grounds to relieve the traps of their prizes and carried home two brace of plump conies that would no doubt end up in a stew.
As they passed back up the east side of the property, ambling casually up an overgrown path and its canopy of trees, Gabriel saw a familiar glint through the foliage.
"Hey, is that a glasshouse? I thought I saw it from my window yesterday."
"It is," Abel replied. He appeared to have no issue with altering their trajectory slightly, guiding Gabriel toward the building when an appropriate fork in what passed for a suggestion of a path came up. "We don't use it. From what I can gather, it was in a bad state when the Alpha bought the place. Solomon might be able to tackle it, being he has the greenest thumb of us all, but Nathaniel seems more inclined to let the poor thing fall apart in its own time."
As they got closer, Gabriel felt a pang of sorrow that such a glorious old thing should be left to ruination. The building was fairly large: longer than it was narrow, with one end fashioned somewhat like a birdcage, all rusting wrought iron and filthy glass. The mess of plants inside could only be inferred as the muck and condensation obscured the view for anyone outside.
Walking up to the door, Gabriel tried the handle without any luck. "It's stuck fast," he said, more confused than annoyed.
"Locked," Abel replied. "Nathaniel has the key, I believe. I'm sure if you asked him, he'd be happy for you to unlock it."
Gabriel hummed under his breath, his eyes lingering greedily before he dragged them away. A little frustrated at being denied his prize, he rejoined Abel and left the glasshouse behind. Back at his father's house they hadn't the room for such a thing, only having the space for a few hotbeds. Gabriel wasn't the best gardener despite the subject fascinating him. Mostly, he wanted to get in there to poke around and see if there were any exotic plants to look up in the library. He was musing on how best to go about asking Nathaniel for the key—whether it would be best to charm it out of him or be straightforward and demand it—when Abel interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm sorry about yesterday. About Nate."
Gabriel frowned over at him. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know." Abel shrugged, although Gabriel had the impression he knew exactly what he was talking about. He just didn't want to say it aloud. "He's not usually so…"
"Talkative?" Gabriel offered. "Warm and welcoming? Amusing?" He was joking but Abel's brow furrowed.
"He can be all those things, y'know. I think yesterday he was…nervous, I suppose."
"Why would he be nervous around me?"
Abel laughed. "I don't remember the last time we sat in the dining room to eat. Normally, we make do around the kitchen table, not fuss with the good china or polished silverware. I think he wanted to make a good impression on you." He laughed again when Gabriel's mouth flapped open uselessly. "It was his idea for Ruth to bake that cake too, y'know."
"Ginger cake has always been my favorite," Gabriel murmured.
Abel nodded, satisfied that Gabriel was getting his point. "Clearly he remembered as he asked for that specifically. Which is why it was so strange that he was so gruff with you over dinner."
"I think he's under the impression I don't want to be here."
"Don't you?"
It was something Gabriel hadn't really thought about, at least not in those terms. "It's not a question of want, I don't think. I am here and I want to make the best of things. I always liked Nathaniel well enough and being here means I won't be cut off from my pack or my father, so I know it's best. I think I can be happy here."
"You should tell
him." Abel flushed a little and looked back down at his feet. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so forward."
"That's all right," Gabriel said, companionably bumping his shoulder against Abel's. "And I will if I should get a chance. Once he stops making excuses and hiding in his office all night."
"Oh, that's quite normal for him," Abel said with amusement in his voice. "He works such long hours, it's a wonder he ever sleeps. What with all the legal matters and letters to write and Lord knows what else. I have no head for business myself."
Gabriel had to frown at that. "Surely, much of that should be taken care of by his secretary?"
"He won't employ one," Abel said as if what he was saying wasn't highly unusual. "I don't think he'd trust someone outside the pack with such personal matters. And none of us have the skills to keep up with it all. Ruth might try but I don't think she'd be happy. I have no head for numbers and Eunice, for all that I love her, is such a scatterbrain I'm quite sure Nathaniel might end up chasing her out of the house for misplacing some important document. Solomon could, perhaps, but he stretches himself so thin taking care of the house already…"
"So, Nathaniel does it all?" Gabriel was quite amazed at how he found the time.
Abel nodded. "It's why we don't often see him for lunch or sometimes even dinner. He'll work late into the night, and I suspect he's often up before me, working in his room before coming to breakfast. I know he's our Alpha and wants to provide, but still, it does feel as if he takes too much on himself."
Gabriel hummed under his breath before he sighed and straightened slightly. "I suppose what he needs is a husband to help take some of the burden from him?"
The smile Abel gave him in return was quite blinding in its hopefulness. "Yes. I suppose it is."
By the time the two of them ambled back to the kitchen, they found Ruth stirring a large pot of something that smelled delicious and the aroma of bread baking in the oven. She looked somewhat surprised to see not only Abel back so soon but Gabriel with him. She was more surprised still when Gabriel took it upon himself to start laying the kitchen table. He made some excuse about there being a chill to the morning air and it being much warmer in the kitchen than the drafty dining room. It wasn't much of an excuse or hardly believable being that both he and Abel were clearly warm after attending to the chores, but she seemed happy to have him make it.
Just about the same time Ruth placed a large dish of kedgeree on the table alongside the last of yesterday's bread toasted up, more coffee and a small dish of fruit, both Solomon and Nathaniel appeared. They entered separately within seconds of each other, drawn by the smell of the food no doubt: Solomon with a smile and a good morning for everyone. Nathaniel, however, paused in the doorway, his brow drawn as he glared at the pack assembling around the table.
"We're not breakfasting in the dining room?"
There was a moment while the pack glanced nervously at each other, not knowing quite how to respond, until Gabriel piped up, "Please don't on my account. I'd hate to think you're standing on ceremony for me. And I'm so much more used to a family breakfast."
Ruth to her credit reached across the table and patted his hand at that, saying, "Whatever makes you most comfortable, dear. We do so want you to feel welcome." She was laying it on a bit thick in Gabriel's opinion, but her performance appeared to appease Nathaniel, and he made his way over to the table even if the scowl didn't leave his face completely.
As he sat, Gabriel stood, taking the plate laid in Nathaniel's place and the serving spoon, ready to put up a plate for him. It only seemed natural to do so and therefore he was shocked when Nathaniel roughly grabbed his wrist.
"I can manage," he growled, not letting Gabriel loose until he had replaced the spoon in its dish and had started to sit back down in his chair.
The rest of the wolves did him the courtesy of keeping their heads down and ignoring the fierce flush of embarrassment he could feel staining his cheeks. The rejection seemed loud and clear, at least at first. It had only felt normal to Gabriel that he should serve his husband's food, as his father had done for his mother and vice versa. The pain in his wrist was a stark reminder that his marriage was truly in name only and privileges of that kind were not open to him. At least, that was what he was thinking as he sat with his head bowed, rubbing the sore skin on his arm, when his plate was lifted away.
He looked up when it was placed back in front of him to find it was Nathaniel feeding him. The Alpha didn't look at him or make comment when Gabriel murmured, "Thank you," under his breath. Nathaniel merely handed the serving spoon to Solomon so he could serve himself and his wife and set about eating his meal in silence.
The food was good and the others indulged in some light conversation for a while as they ate. Gabriel didn't feel able to join in, partly from being an outsider but also as he was still trying to gauge what had just happened. His wrist ached a little, but worse, his pride had been injured and he was rather confused by the whole exchange.
Nathaniel seemed to blow hot and cold in turns, rejecting him one moment then acting in a proprietary manner the next. As children, they had been friendly enough, although there had come a point in which Nathaniel had withdrawn, and it seemed whenever he found himself drifting into the realm of familiarity, it was fought at every turn. Gabriel had no illusions that they might return to the same level of intimacy they had shared as children, but he figured the best way to wear the older man down was by acting as if all was normal between them.
"This morning, Abel showed me the glasshouse," Gabriel said, apropos of nothing, having decided the direct approach would be best suited to his problem. He didn't feel up to being charming.
Nathaniel's eyebrows rose and he glared across the table at Abel, who studiously poked at his food, refusing to make eye contact. "Did he now?"
"Well, I'd seen it from my window and we happened across it when we were coming back with the rabbits. Interestingly, I found the door locked. Do you have any objection to my having the key? I'm dying of curiosity to see what's inside."
Nathaniel's spoon paused for a moment over his plate before he mumbled, "Curiosity killed the cat."
Gabriel couldn't help himself: leaning over his plate, a wicked smile forcing its way onto his face as he whispered, "Ah yes, but satisfaction brought it back."
Gabriel couldn't have been more surprised when Nathaniel's eyes flicked up to him and Nathaniel moved in closer still, as if what he was saying was a confidence that couldn't be heard by the others at the table, their heads tipped toward each other as if they were children again. "In that case, I suppose I should keep you…satisfied." There was something about it, a weight behind the words that Gabriel was not fully prepared for, especially when Nathaniel's tongue dipped out of his mouth to wet his lips.
The moment lasted only a second before Nathaniel appeared to remember himself. Sitting back with a jolt, a deep red hue stained his cheeks and he looked about to die. Gabriel felt he should say something, but the only part of his body capable of action in the moment was occupying his trousers. The interaction hardly went unnoticed either as when he looked down the table, the rest of the pack were intently focused on eating. All except for Eunice, who was gawping at the two of them, at least long enough to take an elbow to the ribs from Ruth.
Solomon took it upon himself to rescue the situation, striking up a conversation about the day's tasks and how they were to be managed. It was washday and everyone had a role to play. All except for Nathaniel, who adjourned to his office almost before the plates were cleared away. When he was at the door, he paused and looked back at Gabriel. "I'll look for the key. For the glasshouse. If you still want it," he said quietly.
Gabriel nodded, surprised at the gesture and its delivery. Nathaniel was hardly a brute but to see him so unsure was quite disarming. "Yes. Yes, I would like that very much."
Nathaniel's reply was a curt nod before he was gone again. Gabriel found his gaze lingering on the spot where his husband had stood until Ruth touch
ed him on the arm.
"How do you feel about scrubbing?" she asked, her smile kind and affectionate.
"I'm plenty at home in front of a washboard," he replied, thankful he would have something to take his mind off the look his husband had given him.
"Glad to hear it," Ruth replied. "Let's make a start, shall we?"
The morning passed quickly. Ruth wasn't entirely happy with the way he did things and felt the need to correct how much soap he was using and how long he would scrub, but Gabriel was happy enough to receive instruction. Each packhouse had their own way of doing things, and he was content to adapt now he had a new family to take care of.
Unfortunately, the chore didn't do much to take his mind off his new husband and the moment they had shared earlier. More than once, he found himself scrubbing a little harder and in such a rhythm that he was glad he could keep the board between his legs long enough to get a grip on himself. That, and the thought of what might happen if he stood too close to the mangle in such a state, served to quell the effects of his husband's wicked tongue on his treacherous member.
They had almost finished hanging the last of the sheets up to dry on the clothesline and were contemplating lunch when Nathaniel reappeared. Gabriel and Ruth were laughing over some silly story Gabriel was telling her about Frank and the time they had taken it upon themselves to ford a river and had ended up being attacked by geese, when he noticed a figure out of the corner of his eye, making its way over between the wafting sails of white.
Nathaniel looked somewhat tired as he limped over, blinking into the bright sunshine bouncing off the white sheets. Gabriel suspected it was mostly a result of being stuck in a dark office, squinting at papers or whatever the man had been up to for such long hours. It clearly had made him tense and serious, being his waistcoat was still buttoned as if the garment alone was holding him together.