The Arrangement (Homestead Legacy Book 1)

by Alex Jane

  Nathaniel's eyes were wide and edged with angry tears, his lips slack and pink. "Oh yes," he replied, just as quiet. "He knows."

  "Tell him it's all right, will you? Tell him we can wait."

  "I should have told you." Nathaniel almost sobbed out the words. "I'm so sorry, Gabe. For everything. I'm so, so sorry."

  Gabriel said nothing more, but he let Nathaniel clasp his hand and drag it to his cheek. When Nathaniel pressed his face against it, Gabriel slowly rose up on his knees and sank forward, wrapping his arms around his fragile Alpha, holding him until his body stopped shaking.

  They never spoke of it afterward—the embrace that evening in the study—just as they never spoke of the carriage ride home from the restaurant when Gabriel had held Nathaniel's hand. Gabriel didn't think it was because Nathaniel was embarrassed about appearing weak in front of him exactly. If that had been the case then he could imagine Nathaniel building an emotional wall to hide behind. But in many respects—subtle, almost imperceptible respects—his attitude softened. Not that they suddenly became close or anything so dramatic. It was almost as if Gabriel could see the tension Nathaniel had been carrying along with the secret dissipate and leave his husband lighter somehow. The burden being lifted made him free to move a little easier, to smile a little more readily.

  Beyond that, he appeared less anxious whenever Gabriel stepped into the room. But whatever his reason for acting as if nothing had changed between them, it confused the hell out of Gabriel, leaving his head a mess of contradiction. For it was bad enough he had to deal with Nathaniel in a better humor than he'd seen him for a long time, with all his smiles and gentle chuckling, but also now he had the memory of the weight of his husband's body as it pressed against him, the heat of his stubbled cheek nestling into his neck, and the scent of the man, up close—close enough to taste if he'd had the courage to sneak his tongue out on the pretense of licking his lips, they had been so entwined in each other. The depth of his feelings became a waking nightmare as he struggled to keep his composure every mealtime when all he wanted to do was strip Nathaniel naked and impale himself on his cock whenever the man asked him to pass the salt. It seemed there was a hell and he was in it.

  If the other members of the household noticed any difference, they stayed quiet about it, thankfully. Gabriel wasn't sure he could have taken the teasing or looks of disapproval or, worse still, false hope shining in everyone's eyes. Which made it all the more infuriating when it was Gabriel himself who gave the game away.

  The morning had started badly when Gabriel was awoken from the most explicit dream he'd ever had in his life, not by the light gently filtering through his curtains but by an orgasm that made him cry out as he exploded against the sheets where he was rutting against them in his sleep. If the humiliation of that wasn't bad enough, moments later, before he'd even had a chance to gather his wits or get his breath back, there came a knock at the door and Nathaniel's concerned voice asking if he was all right.

  Gabriel managed to garble something about stubbing his toe getting out of bed, which he hoped sounded plausible, but if he had thought that would be an end to it, he was sorely mistaken. Worse than finding Nathaniel was wearing the darn pale linen summer suit—not only with the waistcoat that showed off his chest and the pants that hugged his behind most obscenely but also him abandoning the jacket altogether and rolling up his sleeves for Goddess' sake—he insisted on asking after Gabriel's injured toe at every opportunity. In front of the whole pack. Who, of course, then became concerned and drew out a whole question and answer session in which Gabriel not only had to lie to them all while trying to persuade them that he really didn't have to take his shoe and sock off to show them the damage but also manage his own shame of being reminded of the dream and its most glorious, yet sticky, outcome. By the time he entered the glasshouse after lunch, he was in a foul, frustrated mood.

  "Are you all right?" Frank asked, watching in horror as Gabriel violently plunged a spade into one of the borders. "Is your toe still hurting?"

  "No!" Gabriel yelled. "So help me, I will beat the next person who asks me that with this spade!"

  "What's wrong with Gabe?" Priscilla asked as she walked in to join them.

  "His toe hurts," Frank told her, giving a frown and a shake of the head in warning, while having the dexterity to duck away from the clod of earth Gabriel launched at his head.

  "My toe is fine!"

  Priscilla sighed and settled on a stool that had somehow found its way into the building. She had taken to joining the two of them quite often to talk, or currently, make plans for the picnic she was still organizing, with a notebook and pencil in her hand. "Then what is it?"

  "It's Nate, all right! Nate and his goddamn—!" Scent. Chest. Lips. Gabriel managed to stop himself just in time.

  "Oh really." Priscilla looked over at Frank and the two of them shared a smile. It wasn't lost on Gabriel that Frank settled in to rest on his spade as Priscilla folded her hands in her lap, despite trying his best not to look at either of them. "Go on."

  Gabriel felt pinned, like a butterfly to a board, waiting for the deathblow when all his secrets would come tumbling out. Except perhaps he shouldn't have felt that way. The two people in front of him were his closest friends after all. He might not want to divulge all his secrets to them, but he was pretty certain he needed some advice. There were only so many times he could pretend to stub his toe.

  Looking between the two eager faces, Gabriel let out the breath he'd been holding and slumped down to sit on the wide wooden slab that edged the border. "I just don't understand him," he mumbled after a long pause.

  "Anything particular?" Priscilla's tone was lightly mocking but he could tell she meant well.

  "We…we had a moment." Gabriel put his hand over his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the smirking that was practically audible. "We argued—which is hardly a rarity. We're getting quite good at that. But then he was…emotional and, well, he let me hold him. It wasn't… I don't know. But now he acts as if nothing happened. Which it didn't, I suppose. It was only…but he doesn't even acknowledge it. Like the time I held his hand in the carriage."

  "You held his hand?" Priscilla sounded more shocked than anything. And Gabriel realized he might have said too much.

  There was no way to retract what he was admitting so he figured if he was in for a penny… "Yes. That evening after Delmonico's. When he saw your parents. I just couldn't let him sit there in the dark all alone, I just—"

  "Am I missing something here?" Frank asked, without judgment. "You are married to him. Surely…I mean, he does seem very fond of you."

  Gabriel's head snapped up as he barked out a laugh. "Very funny."

  Frank rolled his eyes and went back to digging. "I'm not joking. I wish the two of you would sort things out so I didn't have to put up with his endless attempts to ingratiate himself or all the damn questions about your mother's favorite flowers or if you prefer Bach to Schubert, as if I would have the first clue…"

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," Gabriel said, still agog and wondering how they came to be talking at such crossed purposes.

  "You held his hand?" Priscilla reiterated, as if unable to shake the absurdity of the idea.

  Gabriel leveled her with a grimace and said again, "Yes?" unsure of why he felt less certain of the fact as time passed. He pointed his attention back to Frank, even though his friend was hard at work. "It's not so simple as being married. We're not mated. Marriage is just a contract between us with no expectation of anything…intimate."

  "Like holding hands?" Frank asked, stamping down on the blade of his spade, the cutting edge audibly splicing through the roots of the dead vine.

  "That among other things."

  "Well, the solution is clear." Frank turned back to face him with a grin. "You should woo him."

  The idea seemed to jolt Priscilla from her stupor and she jumped in her seat before brandishing her notebook toward Gabriel's head and exclaiming, "Ye
s!"

  Gabriel was struck dumb for a second before he laughed again. "I can't woo him. We're married."

  "Is it against the rules?"

  Frank's question was genuine enough and Gabriel wished he had a better answer. "It's not a question of rules. It just seems…"

  He struggled to think of how to explain himself but Priscilla got there before him.

  "I think it's a wonderful idea." When Gabriel vehemently shook his head, she groaned. "Why not?"

  "It's not that simple. I don't want to force my attentions on him when we have to live together in this house. He deserves better."

  In a wonderful display of agility, Priscilla managed to lean forward on her stool and firmly thwacked Gabriel in the head with her notebook while remaining, not only dignified, but seated. "Firstly, I would trust you would respect my brother enough that should he reject you, that you would do your utmost to remain civil."

  "Of course. And second?"

  Gabriel wished he hadn't asked when a grin sent straight from the devil himself spread across her face. "Secondly. You admit that you have feelings for him, then?"

  It was a trap and Gabriel had fallen headfirst into it. His mouth worked, making the shapes of words that weren't forthcoming from his brain and after blustering for a moment, he could only growl and bury his head in his hands.

  Priscilla was delighted and clapped in excitement. "This is so wonderful."

  "No, Pris," Gabriel warned her. "No, it is not. Nate has no interest in me. Not like that. He is a good friend, for all that we know each other. I suspect his guilt over Reuben played a large part in his making me an offer, and I don't want to ruin the tenuous friendship we have managed to cobble together."

  Priscilla looked at him, then at Frank, who only shrugged at her and said, "Told you," before going back to digging.

  Gabriel had no idea what was meant by that but it seemed to fix something in Priscilla's expression. "All right," she said, squaring her shoulders. "Just do one thing for me. Tonight, at dinner, I want you to really think about Nate and his strange little ways, the way he treats you and the things he says. Think on it overnight and if you still imagine he wants no more than to tolerate you in the morning, I'll not say another word about it."

  There would be a catch, Gabriel was certain. But he nodded in agreement just to be out from under her beady stare. He was still regretting it come dinnertime, even as he buttoned the waistcoat he was wearing that evening. He didn't bother with a jacket much in the house, being that the days had been warm and he would only be moving from the kitchen to Nathaniel's study once they were fed. Nathaniel, of course, always came to dinner looking immaculate with a fresh shirt and his jacket unblemished, as much as he would parade around in his shirtsleeves the rest of the day. It was a blessing really, that Gabriel wasn't subjected to the sight of his muscular forearms while he was eating. Indeed, it would be hard enough to get the food from fork to lips without stabbing himself, let alone swallow, with the distraction of the smear of dark hairs that covered his forearms and the place where they stopped at his pale wrists. No. Thank goodness for the jacket.

  Nathaniel was already in the kitchen, placing folded linen napkins on each plate, by the time Gabriel bounced into the room. Only Eunice came after him, muttering her apologies and cursing one of the chickens who had gotten out and made a break for freedom. Dinner was a joint of cold ham with roasted summer vegetables. All the dishes were laid out on the table as the family took their seats.

  As usual, Nathaniel didn't even give Gabriel the chance to serve him, snatching up Gabriel's plate even before he had started to carve the joint. The gesture made Gabriel sigh and roll his eyes, but when he looked over at Priscilla she was flashing her eyebrows at him, looking pointedly at what Nathaniel was doing.

  Gabriel frowned at her, thinking perhaps she had something in her eye, but as he watched proceedings, as he'd promised, he saw Nathaniel taking the best bits of meat, chosen carefully from the selection, and placing them on Gabriel's plate before scooping whatever was easiest to pick up for his own meal. The Alpha did the same too with the vegetables, flicking through the carrots and beets to get the best for Gabriel before choosing a random selection for himself. Then, once he had replaced Gabriel's plate in front of him and received the usual quiet "Thank you" from Gabriel, Nathaniel handed him the gravy boat, waiting for him to pour before taking it himself.

  The gravy splashed a little as Gabriel drizzled the side of his plate with it, and he realized his hand was shaking. Normally, Gabriel would chat and laugh with one of the others while he waited for his meal to be handed to him, thinking the whole thing an inconvenience at best and a rebuke at worst. He was embarrassed that Nathaniel didn't allow him to serve. Solomon and Ruth took turns as married couples did, and Gabriel had got it into his mind that this was one of the ways in which Nathaniel subtly slighted him. However. This had been eye-opening. It appeared to be less like a punishment and more like—no. It seemed inconceivable to Gabriel that Nathaniel was following his Alpha instincts and performing this ritual as some kind of courtship. Except, when he looked over at Priscilla with what must have been an expression of shocked realization on his face, she grinned and shrugged one shoulder as if to say I told you so.

  Gabriel scowled and shook his head at her, making a point of attending to his dinner, arranging the little carrots so diligently that Nathaniel leaned over to ask discreetly, and with great concern, whether he'd made a bad selection and would Gabriel want any of his as a replacement. The gesture was so sweet that Gabriel leaned in to compliment him on his choice, saying that he was only admiring them. He imagined kissing him then, and somehow they stayed huddled together so long Solomon ended up having to clear his throat, making them jolt apart. Nathaniel hastily shoved a large piece of meat into his mouth to indicate everyone could start eating. Except they didn't, instead mesmerized at the way the pork flopped down onto their Alpha's chin, leaving gravy in his whiskers and a spot on his lapel. Abel covered his laugh rather expertly with a cough, aided competently by Frank who patted his back and offered water, whereas Ruth didn't bother trying to be subtle and guffawed before starting her meal, and most of the way through it.

  Gabriel was still processing what he'd been thinking when Priscilla piped up.

  "Can I borrow Abel and the carriage tomorrow? I have some errands to run in town."

  Nathaniel scowled at his plate as he sawed his remaining meat into smaller pieces, clearly having learned his lesson. "Abel has better things to do than ferry you about. And weren't you complaining just this minute that you have sewing left over from today to finish?"

  "Yes. But I can get that done in the morning. Well, most of it."

  Shaking his head, Nathaniel put down his cutlery for a moment to think. "No," he said finally. "I have business in town the day after tomorrow. I can pick up whatever you need then."

  The sigh Priscilla let out was melodramatic at best, and Gabriel was glad she'd never had a passion for the theater. "All right," she said, her voice dripping with resignation. "Though I'm sure Gabriel will be sorely disappointed." It was almost comical how Nathaniel's ears pricked up at that. He looked questioningly between the two of them until Priscilla said, "Oh, didn't I say? Gabriel wanted to come to town to get a few things, didn't you?"

  Her look implored Gabriel to play along, but the best he could manage was a mumbled, "It can wait," before he shoved a carrot into his mouth.

  It appeared that was all it took. Gabriel was used to Nathaniel digging his heels in when it came to unnecessary trips to town. It was as if he felt they should all hate it as much as he did. And yet, he only spent a moment pushing his gravy about with a piece of meat, before grumbling, "I suppose I could spare Abel for a few hours. But I want you back here promptly to help with dinner."

  Priscilla looked utterly triumphant. She had the good grace to sound grateful when she thanked him, but her eye was on Gabriel the entire time, soaking in the way he wanted to crawl under the table and
expire from embarrassment. It seemed the only person Nathaniel was apt to spoil more than his little sister, was Gabriel. It was too much for him, and he spent the rest of the dinner trying to force his food down, even refusing dessert when it was presented.

  Nathaniel didn't say anything, although he sent him concerned looks all through the meal. It did make things easier when they retired to the study, as was their habit. Nathaniel stood at the gramophone holding two discs in his hands. "I can't decide between Verdi or this. Which would you prefer?" he asked, holding out the sleeve. The scene was so domestic, Gabriel knew he had to get out of there.

  Simply him being in the study was evidence that Nathaniel favored him. As far as he could ascertain, no one, not even Solomon, was allowed in the room for any extended period. And yet, Nathaniel had not only let Gabriel in, but permitted him to change the whole place around, tidying up his things, cleaning—and choosing the music that accompanied them more often than not. All things that were a gift if one looked at it the right way. Nathaniel didn't suffer fools gladly, but he suffered Gabriel moving his papers and yelling at him for his slovenly housekeeping. Suddenly, being in Nathaniel's private space seemed so obscenely intimate that Gabriel had to get out.

  "Would you mind awfully if I retired early this evening?" Gabriel asked.

  "Are you unwell? Should I call for the doctor?" Nathaniel stepped toward him as if he was ready to catch him should Gabriel swoon.

  "No. I think I'm just a little out of sorts. I simply need an early night."

  "You barely ate anything at dinner."

  Gabriel had to smile and somehow felt brave enough to reach out and place a hand on Nathaniel's arm. "I'm all right, really. A good night's sleep and I'll be right as rain." He started to back away but Nathaniel caught his hand, trapping it in his own.

  "You would tell me if there was anything wrong."

  He seemed so sad in that moment, Gabriel wanted to throw his arms about his neck and hold him tight. "Of course," he said, squeezing Nathaniel's hand firmly. "I promise."