by Crook, Amy
CHAPTER 8
In Which the Evening Comes to a Close
Duckworth spent a good long time with Julian, and was looking much happier than his predecessors when he left, though Chudleigh’s good mood had also proved unassailable despite his early position. Alex tensed as the servant came in his direction, though third was quite a respectable place for someone with virtually no status in society to be placated.
Alex let out the breath he’d been holding when it was Willoughby that the man tapped, earning Alex a glare from several of the men, Willoughby included.
“Looks like it’s just you and me left,” said Pembroke, sidling up to him.
Alex took a swallow of his water and considered the idea of gin. “A black sheep and a golden child,” he said, amused. “Quite the pair.”
Pembroke inclined his head, acknowledging the description. He was the second son, but very much a favoured one, from what Flora had said. Her information, while long-winded, was usually reliable, at least so long as she wasn’t directly involved.
“Who do you think will be last?” asked Pembroke, sounding quite smug.
Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “It won’t be me, I’m shocked I made it this far. Willoughby can’t be pleased to be third to my second.”
“Your participation has been a surprise all along, so really, why should this be any different?” said Pembroke, his tone insinuating.
Alex took another sip of his drink and watched as Willoughby’s annoyance faded in the face of Julian’s charm, then he shrugged. “Perhaps Julian just likes to keep you all on your toes.”
He didn’t feel he’d get a better exit line from this conversation, so Alex downed the rest of his water and went over to the bartender for another refill. He wasn’t allowed to stay out of it this time, however; Duckworth walked up as soon as he stepped away from the bar. “You’ve made quite an impression on our young man,” he said. “I wasn’t aware you moved in these circles much.”
“I don’t,” said Alex, hoping he didn’t look as trapped as he felt. “I met Julian in the course of Mandeville’s murder investigation.”
Duckworth looked delightedly scandalised that Alex would say such a thing so bluntly. “So you’re the dark hero, then.”
Alex looked down at his black-on-black clothing and the pale skin of his hands and shrugged. “Not so dark as all that,” he said.
“But quite mysterious,” said one of the early picks, Standish Flynn, coming up to join their conversation. “No one knows much about what you’ve been up to since leaving school.”
“I expect they haven’t felt me relevant,” said Alex, starting to get annoyed, though he knew that sizing up the competition was only to be expected. He just hadn’t counted on being considered much competition so quickly.
Standish laughed, a polite, snooty sort of laugh that grated on Alex’s nerves. “Well, you’re relevant now. It’ll be all they can talk about that you got so far in the standings.”
“Must we talk about this Courtship as though it were a horse race and we were all prime studs looking for a jockey?” asked Alex, his voice pained.
They both laughed at that, and Alex had no idea whether it was a good or bad thing.
There was more conversation along that vein, though it was mostly a blur for Alex, who couldn’t seem to tear his attention away from where Julian and Willoughby sat, bodies tilted toward one another and Willoughby’s hand laid gently atop Julian’s on the small table.
It was a relief this time when the servant came for Alex, leading him to Julian and the strange muffled silence of the privacy spell.
“So, what have you been drinking all night?” asked Julian, his smile a bit tired though his eyes held genuine interest.
“I’m quite boring,” said Alex, offering him the glass. “It’s just water with lime and mint.”
Julian laughed delightedly. “And they’re all out there thinking you’ve about drunk them under the table, I bet.”
Alex chuckled with him. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “What about you?”
Julian grinned. “Irish coffee,” he said, taking a sip of the potent brew. “But they keep bringing me water to alternate so I don’t go promising what I don’t really want to deliver.”
“Perhaps I should have brought you the sobering potion hiding in your guest bathroom,” said Alex, teasing.
“You went snooping!” said Julian, but he seemed to like the idea.
Alex shrugged. “The bathroom was quiet, so I did a little listening. It’s about to lose its potency, though,” he said. He cocked his head and added, “It’s really quiet in here, this is a good spell, I can’t hear anything but the magic we’ve got on us.” That also meant that whatever that thread of subtle evil was that he’d picked out earlier, it wasn’t on Julian’s person, but originated somewhere in the house proper.
“Are you really only here for the investigation?” asked Julian, eyes shrewd.
Alex found himself blushing just the tiniest bit and he took one of Julian’s hands, acutely aware of the echo of Willoughby’s earlier gesture. “If I just wanted to investigate, I could have asked you to get me past your guardians when we were writing,” he said, which was mostly the truth. It wouldn’t have let him observe the way he had tonight, but he might have learned a thing or two that would be hidden now that he was a Suitor.
Julian looked very pleased indeed by that answer and Alex relaxed just a bit. “Good,” he said. “Now, tell me about your life, while I have you alone.”
Alex chuckled. “What do you wish to know?” he asked, wondering how his mundane life might seem to someone as sheltered as Julian.
“What do you do when you’re not detecting?” asked Julian, hand still in Alex’s and his head tilted in a flirty, almost feminine manner.
Alex could suddenly see why they all saw him and thought consort rather than husband. He swallowed and answered carefully, “Well, I make magic, I study magic, I read terrible detective novels so my handler, Agent Lapointe, can get the joy out of telling me how they get it all wrong.”
“And is this Agent my rival for your affections as well as your time?” asked Julian, and Alex couldn’t miss the sharp edge.
Fortunately, he could laugh. “Murielle isn’t my type,” he said. “I’m afraid I’m all for the boys, as they say.”
“Good,” said Julian, with a satisfied look. “I am, too.”
“And you’ve got your choice of the cream of society, plus me, of course,” said Alex with a chuckle.
A shadow passed over Julian’s eyes. “At least I’ve got some choice left to me,” he said, sounding more bitter than Alex would have expected.
“You did choose to declare yourself a consort,” pointed out Alex, feeling as though he’d missed something vital.
“I declared myself Cecil’s consort,” said Julian. “And then, only after he’d begun to take up the reins of business and responsibility. I chose him; not the life of a consort, but the life of his consort. And now I’m doing a Courtship, because that’s the last choice left to me.”
Alex drew Julian’s hand up to his and kissed the back. “You’ll find a man here who’s worthy of you,” he said, not thinking for just a moment about how he was still among the candidates. “It will be difficult and dark sometimes, but there will be joy again, even without your first love.”
Julian looked up at Alex with the full weight of his grief in those stormy blue eyes. “Even though it feels like I’ll never really be happy again?”
Alex turned over his hand and laid the softest of kisses in the palm before bringing it down to cradle in both of his own. “Even though, there will be happiness again, just as your Cecil would want you to have.”
Julian chuckled at that, though his eyes were suspiciously bright. “He would have, you know. Cecil always wanted me to be happy, above everything else. It’s part of why I agreed to become his consort, so he could always take care of me.”
“And you’ll find a man who wants that among th
is crowd, not everyone is here just for lands and titles and money,” said Alex.
“You’re not, anyway,” said Julian wryly. “I’m not so sure about the rest of them.”
Alex chuckled. “Give it some time, Julian, they’re all nervous now, and trying to put on the best face. Wait until they’ve got you alone and in their element, and you’ll see more personality.”
“I should hope so,” said Julian, and Alex had to laugh at the disgust in his tone.
“Now, now, they can’t be as bad as all that,” said Alex. “Besides, if you can’t decide who to keep, you can always hold a Masquerade.”
Julian looked surprised, then very pleased at the idea. “You’re right, I’d forgotten about that option. At least that way I’d get some kissing in.”
“Let’s hope your sister forgives me for the strain on the household budget,” teased Alex. “Tonight’s dinner was masterful, by the way, I had missed really fine food. I mostly eat takeaway curry these days.”
“I won’t tell her the Masquerade was your idea if you don’t,” said Julian. “Now, I have a few days before I send out the invites to tea, and one of the things it’s polite to ask is what sort of tea you’d like.”
Alex cocked his head, trying to remember the options from his childhood, and then he grinned. “I’d like a picnic in your orchards,” he said, “if it pleases you, of course.”
Julian’s smile was soft but also thoughtful this time, as though he’d just realised that Alex, too, was paying attention to all the tiny hints and preferences that Julian let drop. “An orchard picnic it shall be, though Emmy might demand to join us so you don’t compromise my integrity too soon.”
“Oh, I don’t know, she seemed to think you ought to be taking us all out for a ride,” said Alex teasingly.
Julian laughed and hid his blushing face. “Oh, don’t remind me!” he protested.
“Now, I already have something in mind for your first gift, but I know I’m supposed to ask what you could possibly want that isn’t already provided,” said Alex, changing the subject awkwardly.
Julian giggled, sitting up and taking a healthy swig of his doctored coffee. “I’d very much like to see what you have in mind, it’s bound to be more interesting than a charmed paperweight.”
“Is that what that was?” asked Alex, though of course he’d already known from his magical appraisal of the gifts that it was charmed to keep papers safely under itself until the owner’s hand freed them for perusal.
They chatted a little longer about nothing of importance, though Alex gathered up each little tidbit of information for future reference. He had his second gift already, but part of the task of a suitor was to provide a series of gifts, each more thoughtful and personal, to show that the suitor not only listened to what Julian had to say, but cared enough to cater to those tastes.
After another bout of giggling, Julian sighed. “One to go,” he said, and he didn’t sound like he was looking nearly so forward to it as Alex thought he should be.
“You won’t have to go by prestige much longer,” said Alex, kissing Julian’s fingertips and finding them soft and warm against his lips, with just a whiff of some cologne applied hours earlier. “You can choose according to your heart, Julian.” He paused and grinned wryly. “Even if that’s not me.”
“Even if that’s not you, you’ve made tonight more bearable,” said Julian, “and I won’t forget that.” He leaned in and kissed Alex on the cheek, a sign of great favour indeed that put Alex to the blush.
Alex stood and gave Julian’s hand one last squeeze, then took a swig of his forgotten drink and shot him a wink. “I wouldn’t have borne it at all but for you,” said Alex, and then he stepped out into the room, steeling himself for the inevitable deluge.
This time, when he visited the bartender, he gave in and got a gin and tonic. He had a feeling he was going to need it, with the way the rest of the suitors were hovering.
“Lucky Pembroke,” said Chudleigh with his affable grin, the first to approach Alex, “but lucky you as well. A kiss for luck, in fact.”
“Sometimes it’s better to be comforting than clever,” said Alex, though really he had no idea what he’d been, other than a slightly more polite version of himself. He took a drink and paused to enjoy the high quality of the gin.
That is, if he was going to be allowed, which seemed unlikely. Willoughby sidled up to him and said in a rather snide tone, “I see you’ve got an in with our little fox.”
“Do you fancy yourself a hound, then?” asked Alex, though it was one of the terms sometimes used for the man being courted in such a situation. Alex had always found it uncomfortable, given what usually happened to foxes on a hunt.
“Oh, Willoughby’s an infamous hound,” said Chudleigh with a grin that showed some intelligence under the ridiculously cheerful exterior. “You’d have to curb that for our Julian, wouldn’t you? He wants a proper consort bond, no straying.”
“It’s no less than he deserves,” said Alex, bothered by the attitude that had come over the room. A glance around explained it, though; Ms. Fitzhugh had taken her leave, whether for the moment or the night, and the men were feeling their oats without her calming presence.
“Are you what he deserves, then?” asked Willoughby, giving Alex the most insulting once-over he’d ever received from someone who wasn’t a cop or a murder suspect.
Alex gave Willoughby a disdainful look. “He deserves Mandeville, and we are all poor seconds to that.”
He stalked off, but there were other suitors every way he could go, so he attached himself to the harmless-seeming Chilcott. “Are you looking forward to your tea?” asked Alex, which seemed safe enough.
Chilcott chuckled. “I may not seem like much competition,” he said, “but I have every intention of winning Julian.”
“Good,” said Alex, getting a surprised look. “Julian deserves to have men vying for him and not just his titles and lands.”
Chilcott raised one eyebrow and said, “I can see now why you’re the dark horse. That sort of talk has won stouter hearts than his.”
It was Alex’s turn to chuckle. “It only works if you mean it,” he said.
“I know,” said Chilcott, and they shared a moment of perfect understanding.
~ ~ ~
In the end, it looked as though Pembroke’s form of charm worked just as well as Alex’s, and Alex had to squash a moment of misplaced jealousy when Julian also bestowed a kiss to Pembroke’s cheek.
They emerged from the little alcove together, and Emmeline returned as well for a blessedly brief final bit of mingling before they were all sent on their way with a final toast.
“May we all find happiness, each in our own way and time,” said Emmeline. She was acting as the head of their little household, which made the toast her purview. “May magic make us safe, luck make us joyful and blessings make us prosper. Let it be!”
“Let it be,” they all echoed, then everyone sipped the champagne that had been circulated among them.
“Thank you for coming to my brother’s first Courtship dinner,” she said, fingers nervous on the stem of her glass. “Godfrey will see you all out to your cars.”
They all filed past, glasses abandoned on a waiting side table so hands were free to shake hers, give a small final greeting to Julian, and be ushered on their way. Alex didn’t bother trying to linger, though he did give them both an extra squeeze and a silent promise that the Agency was still most diligently on Mandeville’s murder.
Alex had a feeling they heard him, with or without words.
~ ~ ~
“So, how was it?” asked Henry, draped as he was over Alex’s couch.
Alex sighed; he should have known he wouldn’t get to sleep before the interrogation began. “Long,” he replied, moving toward the bedroom. “If you make tea while I change, I might forgive you for not waiting until morning.”
Henry laughed, but he got up. “You’re worse in the mornings,” he reminded Alex.
Alex didn’t dignify that with a response, especially since Henry was right. Instead he vanished into his bedroom, which he’d personally warded against his family’s unwanted intrusions and therefore felt safe hiding in, at least for a bit. He carefully put away each item of clothing, the cufflinks and tie tack in their box, cravat hung over a bar in the shower to see if the wrinkles would steam out, jacket hung with the vest and trousers in his wardrobe, socks and shirt in the laundry. He spent a long moment sitting on the end of his bed in his pants, which were a black silk that matched the cravat, before shedding those, too, in favour of a pair of soft blue silk pyjamas that nearly matched Julian St. Albans’ eyes.
“Tea’s on!” called Henry, smart enough not to try to pass the wards without invitation, though he’d had to learn the lesson the hard way.
“Coming,” said Alex with a sigh, belting on a nice black dressing gown and shuffling out in his slippers. “Can we keep this brief?”
“Only if you give me the good bits right off,” said Henry, sounding far too cheerful for how tired Alex was feeling.
“Humbug,” said Alex grumpily. He accepted the mug of tea Henry handed him, took a sip, made a face, then added sugar and milk to acceptable levels.
Henry just chuckled. “I’d say you should watch all those calories, but you’re still thin as a rail.”
“I burn them off,” said Alex, not bothering to explain that it was through magic rather than whatever nefarious ideas he was sure Henry was concocting.
“You’re being good during the Courtship, though, right?” asked Henry.
Alex snorted. “You only care that the family would lose face, but yes, I’m being a good little boy while I’m part of a formal Courtship.” His tea was now acceptably adulterated, so he rummaged in his cupboards for a tin of biscuits. He’d been full to the brim a few hours ago, but nervousness seemed to have burned it all off.