by Megan Derr
He really wanted to know, and only four days ago, he'd barely known such a thing was possible.
Not daring to put his thoughts into words quite yet, Jewell simply took another kiss.
Addison smiled when they finally parted, flushed and pleased, the happiest Jewell had seen him since their hours at the museum. "Rae said you should show me around the village, or take me around the countryside. He said if we need him, he'll be in his office or the library."
Jewell grabbed his hand. "That's perfect! Come on, we'll take my favorite horses; they're both excellent mares." He dragged Addison to the stables, surprised and pleased when Addison helped him; everyone else he knew stood there and let the stablemen do the work. "Does your family have horses?"
"Yes," Addison said with a nod. "We have two; we need them to deliver mail to the outlying homes. They're not look like yours, though they're good horses."
"A good horse is a good horse," Jewell said. They led their horses from the stable, then mounted and rode off. Jewell blew Addison a kiss, then heeled his horse into a run and took off, laughing as Addison cried out and came after him.
They left their horses with the village stable when they arrived, and Jewell then wasted no time taking Addison into one of his favorite stores—the sweet shop.
"Well, well," said the clerk behind the counter. "Here's a face I've not seen in an age. It's good to see you again, Highness. Whoever is your friend?"
Jewell introduced Addison, then said, "We're staying with Uncle indefinitely, so I'm sure you'll be seeing more than enough of me."
The clerk laughed. "Indeed, Highness. Have you anything in mind for today? We've all the usual assortments. Oh! I just finished Prince Benedict's order this morning; he was supposed to pick it up today. Would you care to take it back with you?"
"Gladly," Jewell replied. "Marzipan, I would guess?"
"Naturally," the clerk said with a smile. "For you, I would wager I'll be boxing up chocolates."
Jewell grinned. "Mm, please. Thank you."
"And what would you like, Master Addison?" the clerk asked brightly. "We have virtually everything."
"Uh—nothing," Addison said, going still and quiet in that way of his. Jewell was beginning to realize meant he felt uncomfortable. When Addison felt more confident, he was neither still nor quiet—though he would never be as half-wild as everyone claimed Jewell to be. "I'm fine."
Jewell wanted to kick himself. He was so busy trying to show off and make Addison happy, he tended to forget it might intimidate instead. He pondered a moment, then lit on something, recalling all they'd had to eat and drink the past few days, what Addison had tended to favor. "An assortment of the candied fruit."
The clerk smiled and sketched a half bow. "Certainly. If you'll come back in an hour, I'll have all prepared for you."
"All right," Jewell said, and handed over the necessary monies. Then he took Addison's hand again and led him from the shop and on to the next. Sensing Addison would not be able to resist, and knowing he'd be comfortable, he dragged him into the bookshop.
Several books later, and after glaring heavily at the clerk who kept making eyes at an oblivious Addison, he dragged Addison off to the tavern for lunch, then back to the sweet shop, off to the stable to leave their purchases, then off to another half dozen stores.
Their final stop was for jewelry, because he wanted to see Addison in sapphires to bring out the deep, deep blue of his eyes. "You should get your ears pierced," he said as he dragged Addison to a counter displaying all manner of earrings, nestled on velvet beneath pristine glass.
Addison said nothing, and Jewell looked up to see if he'd been heard. A clerk drew close at the time, and Jewell waved him off, concerned with the guilt-stricken look on Addison's face. He kissed the corner of Addison's mouth. "Stop looking so upset, unless you're just trying to get me to kiss you. I'll do that anyway, you know."
Laughing weakly, Addison replied, "You…you keep buying me stuff. I don't have money. I can't buy you anything. I don't need any of this. It doesn't seem fair."
Jewell kissed him again, then lifted Addison's hand and kissed his knuckles. "Addy—I assaulted you in the park. I dragged you away from your home, your life, your family. I've put you in an awkward situation and caused you a great deal of trouble. I've dragged you three days away from anything remotely familiar, and am more or less forcing you to stay here with me indefinitely. I lied to you about who I was. I am a reckless, impulsive, spoiled brat with more money than I ought to be allowed to have. The very least I can do is spoil you rotten for a little bit. Please?"
Addison stared at him, and Jewell wanted to squirm, say something to distract him—kiss him to distract him. Anything but be stared at by Addison, those deep blue eyes that seemed to see way too much, and were still the most open and honest eyes he'd ever seen.
But he held still, and remained silent, and stared back until Addison finally gave a slight nod and a soft sigh. "All right. But don't get carried away."
"I won't," Jewell said, and grinned, then kissed the top of Addison's nose. Then he spun around, back to the counter, and rang the bell to bring the clerk back. He tapped the glass. "Sapphires; the square-cut one in the gold setting. Yes, and we'll need his ears pierced. Also the matching cravat pin and cuff links. Then a full gentleman's set in plain silver, another in plain gold, and…" He tapped his lips thoughtfully, squeezing Addison's hand when Addison began to seem nervous and fretful again. "Diamonds, too, then. Square-cut as well, but the silver setting, please. Yes, that will do for now. But do let me know if you get anything else in pearls and sapphires, something a bit more subtle."
The clerk bowed and began to collect all the required pieces, leaving them alone for the moment.
"Jewell!" Addison said, face red. "I said don't get carried away—mph—!"
Jewell grinned as he broke the kiss. "You didn't say according to whose definition."
Addison scowled. "I don't want you buying stuff for me. It isn't necessary. I don't need sapphires and diamonds or anything else."
"I know," Jewell said, cupping his face, then pulling him close and hugging him tightly. "You're the only person I've ever met who never asked for them, though, and that makes it fun to buy them. So stop worrying upon it, Addy." He kissed Addison's cheek, then stepped back. "Now we get your ears pierced."
Shooting him one last scowl, Addison nevertheless then went along and sat quietly while the clerk pierced his ears. Jewell immediately moved forward when he was finished. "They're even more perfect than I thought they would be."
Addison shrugged, reaching up tentatively to touch them. "They're far too extravagant for me, Jewell. I'm not at all suited for sapphires."
"Pish posh. Your eyes outshine them easily; they're so bloody perfect if my mother saw you in them she'd turn emerald-green with jealousy. She loves sapphires but they're all wrong for her. If it makes you feel better, though," he added as he led Addison from the jewelry shop, "I do have ulterior motives for those earrings."
"What do you mean?" Addison asked.
Jewell smiled, and slid his arm across Addison's shoulders, then bent slightly to murmur in his ear, "I want to see how you look wearing nothing but the sapphires."
Addison flushed—straight to a deep rose, completely bypassing the soft pink he usually turned first. "Jewell!"
Throwing his head back and laughing, Jewell hurried them along to the stables. He could not wait to get Addison home and into bed.
Home. He wondered if someday they might actually return to a home that was theirs. He wondered what he'd have to do to make that possible. A pity he'd never invested in an estate, but he'd never needed one; nearly all his time had been spent in the city.
He tucked the matter away to work out later; he had more than enough to contend with at present.
It was full dark when they finally returned, exhausted, happy, and perhaps a trifle bit mussed from their break along the riverbank. Rae was in his office when they stumbled into the hous
e, glasses on his nose, bent over a tidy pile of papers, a lamp with a stained-glass shade casting bright amber light across his desk.
"I see we had fun," Rae said, setting aside his pen. "Cook has a cold supper set by, should you desire it."
"The sweet shop clerk had these ready," Jewell said, moving forward and setting a box on the edge of Rae's desk. "Benedict was supposed to pick them up today; I think they're for you?"
"Yes," Rae replied, shaking his head and smiling faintly at the white box bound with green and gold ribbon that smelled faintly of amber. "Thank you." He looked at them again, chuckling softly. "Get on, then. Clean up and go to bed. I'll see you both in the morning."
"Good night," Jewell said, and slipped away, Addison keeping pace with him.
"I feel bad," Addison said quietly as they went upstairs. "Rae's really nice, and your uncle seemed nice, too. I hate that he's going to be in the city for two weeks. Rae obviously misses him."
Jewell laughed. "Most people don't think Rae is nice, you know. He once threw someone off a balcony, just because the man dared to touch Benedict and make certain offers. He likes to throw things too; they used to say he had the nastiest temper in the country. My mother told me that he and Uncle Bene used to hate each other before they suddenly turned lovers—"
"That's what Rae said," Addison said. "That they didn't like each other. But he said all that changed in the span of three nights." His face softened as he relived the conversation. "He said sometimes circumstances are simply beyond your control, and you can either run away from them or let them sweep you up." He smiled shyly at Jewell. "He said, for those three days, he didn't know what to do. On the fourth day though, when everything came to a head, in the end he wound up with a lover whose never left his side in twenty three years."
"That doesn't sound so bad, then," Jewell replied, and pushed Addison into their room, barely closing the door before pulling him close again.
*~*~*
Addison looked up from the book he was reading at the sound of the front door opening and closing. Setting the book down, he stood up and ventured into the hall—then immediately turned red and backed into the parlor, closing the door on Rae's enthusiastic welcome home to Benedict.
He resumed his seat and opened his book again, glancing briefly at the settee where Jewell had flopped down to read his own book. Addison had expected five minutes of silence before Jewell started talking, but when he'd glanced up in amusement nearly half an hour later, it had been to find Jewell fast asleep.
That had been more than an hour ago. Smiling fondly, Addison went back to his book. A soft knock at the door came a few minutes later, and he greeted Martha with a smile as she slipped inside. "Master Addy," she said quietly, seeing Jewell asleep, "I came to let you know that Prince Benedict is home, but that he probably will not see you until morning."
Addison smiled sheepishly. "I, uh, saw that, and figured as much. Thank you, though, for letting us know."
Martha chuckled. "Shall I put supper on for two, then?"
"Um—" Addison hesitated, flustered. Servants never asked him such questions. They barely learned his name. "I don't think Jewell will wake up any time soon, and it's not worth the trouble for just one? I'd be happy with more tea and scones, if that's not a bother?"
"Oh, Master Addy, there was never a person less a bother than you. I'll bring it straight away."
Then she was gone—but he'd just opened his book again when she returned. "Lord have mercy, and here I am forgetting the one thing Prince Benedict bid me do. A letter for you, dear." She bustled out again, leaving Addison more or less alone with a letter from his parents. He would know his mother's handwriting anywhere.
Feeling sick, already fairly certain about what his parents would have to say, he set his book down and reached for his tea. Leaving the letter in his lap, he finished his tea and refilled it. When that was half gone, he finally picked up the letter and broke the plain wax seal.
The letter was only a page long, though it would have been easier to read if his mother had spread it over two pages; that was his mother, though, never using more than was strictly necessary. The contents were precisely what he had expected and dreaded.
When he came home he would be confined. He would reimburse his uncle and his parents for all the time and money they had wasted on trying to locate him. And, his mother spent the last two paragraphs saying, when he was done being the cheap little plaything for a spoiled prince, he best see to it that when he was cast aside he held on to all the costly trinkets and baubles he could, to help repay the debts to his sorely tested family.
Addison stared miserably at the letter, and wondered what he was going to do. How did one write his parents and tell them he was at least half in love with a prince and as much as he hated to upset and anger them, Jewell mattered more? He'd tried once already, to assure them he was safe and happy and they weren't to worry, but obviously they'd paid that letter no mind.
He read and reread the letter, only setting it aside when Martha returned with tea and far more food than the scones he'd requested. She brushed aside his protests and patted his cheek, and bid him have a good night, she'd fetch the dishes in the morning so he wasn't to worry over them.
Defeated, Addison helped himself to more tea and one of the fruit tarts she'd brought.
The tarts reminded him of the candied fruits Jewell had bought him, which had been like nothing Addison had ever tasted. Of course, thinking of the fancy sweets reminded him of all the other things Jewell had bought him. It was stupid, he shouldn't let Jewell buy him anything. If his parents knew, they really would believe he was nothing more than the latest gullible fool coerced into being Jewell's plaything of the moment.
But he wasn't. He might know nothing else about this wild, unbelievable situation in which he'd put himself, but he knew Jewell regarded him as far more than a passing fancy.
What he'd done to deserve Jewell, that was the burning question. He would probably never know the answer; it seemed surreal that someone like Jewell would want him. After Rae's talk and all he and Jewell had said to each other yesterday, he was daring to believe forever just might be possible.
How remained a mystery, but Rae had said he and Benedict had struggled with the same problem for a long time. But in the end, together was together, even when they were apart, and no one but the two of them could change that.
Sipping his tea, he picked up the letter again, determined to find a way to soothe his parents and convince them that he was doing the right thing, no matter how mad a thing it seemed.
But it only depressed him again, despite his best efforts, especially those last two paragraphs. Was that really all that concerned them? That he bring back expensive jewelry? Not once did they ask if he was truly all right, if he really was happy, and he knew it was mostly that they were worried and angry—
He reached up to touch the jewels that still felt heavy and strange in his ears. Sapphires. It was beyond anything that he was wearing sapphires, and now owned a proper jewelry case with already nearly a dozen items inside.
It was beyond depressing that his parents were more concerned with the contents of that case than with whether or not he was happy.
Letting his hand fall, he continued to stare at the leather, thoughts tangled.
He let out a yelp as a hand covered his, and the letter was snatched away. "Uh—you're awake."
"What's this?" Jewell asked, looking at the letter, raking his rumpled hair back and yawning as he started to read it.
Addison stood and tried to snatch it back. "No, Jewell, don't read that. It's just—oof—" He stared up at Jewell from the settee, completely confused. "Why are you sitting on me and how did it happen?"
"I'm very good at finding ways of getting on top of you," Jewell replied, settling more comfortably where he straddled Addison's chest, trapping his arms. "Probably because being on top of you is one of my favorite things, second only to being inside you."
"Jewell—!" Addison
said, not quite shouting the words. "You—that—how can you say such things?"
"Who is going to hear them except you and me?" Jewell asked with a laugh. He bent to give Addison a quick kiss, then sat up again. "Now, about this letter making you so sad—"
"Don't," Addison pleased. "I don't want you to read it. Please, Jewell, I'm beg—"
Jewell cut him off with a kiss. "Don't beg," he said. "Just don't. I'm sorry. If you don't want me to read it, I won't."
Addison relaxed, but he could see Jewell was hurt. "It's just from my parents. I don't want you to read the awful things they said, that's all."
"Ah," Jewell replied, and dropped the letter to the ground. "I can guess. I'm a prince, and young, and known to be reckless, uncouth, unorthodox, impulsive, loud, unseemly, and a whole host of other unflattering adjectives. No doubt everyone expects me to play with you for a short time, and then send you packing. Are your parents hoping you'll come home contrite and sorry, and with diamonds in your bag?" He shifted on the settee, freeing Addison's arms, slipping one leg between Addison's thighs, bracing his weight on one arm, using the other to comb through Addison's hair. "Is that the gist of the letter?"
Addison nodded, hating, just hating how bitter and cynical Jewell looked as he spoke. Jewell was always so bright and cheerful, always made it seem like things would go his way just because it never occurred to him they could go another way. He made Addison want to try things that he'd never have had the temerity or courage to do on his own. He made everything around him brighter; he shouldn't look that sad and jaded.
"Oh, stop looking sad," Jewell said, his smile returning. "I don't like when my playthings frown."
"You!" Addison said, attempting to buck him off, not really protesting when Jewell only more securely pinned him and demonstrated just how rested he was after his impromptu nap.
By the time they finished, Addison was ready for a nap himself—though, given the clock was chiming the twentieth hour, it made more sense simply to go to bed. "We really shouldn't be doing such thing in your uncle's house; not outside our bedroom, anyway," he said, pushing Jewell off him and sitting up. Bundling up their ruined handkerchiefs, he shoved them into a pocket and then set about restoring his clothes to order and trying to sort out his tangled hair. "He'll murder us."