by Crook, Amy
Godfrey was waiting at the door with his usual expression of very proper disdain, and Alex checked his watch as he walked up to the door. “Am I late?” he asked pointedly; it was a very proper three minutes to the hour.
“No, sir, of course not,” said Godfrey with a sniff. “Master Julian is waiting for you in the salon, if you’ll just come this way.”
They walked a short, winding way through the house, and Alex found himself in the same room they’d used for the start of the dinner gathering. This time Julian was sitting alone, facing the fire, and he turned and rose with a smile on his face that made Alex’s heart skip a beat.
“Alexander, so good of you to come,” he said, offering Alex his hand, which Alex politely kissed. “That will be all for now, Godfrey.”
“Sir,” said Godfrey, voice dripping displeasure as he took his leave.
Alex chuckled. “He doesn’t like me at all,” said Alex, letting Julian’s hand drop. “Here, I brought these just so it wouldn’t look like I hadn’t given you anything at all,” he said, handing over the pastry box.
Julian smiled and set it aside, then stretched up to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Thank you for the early gift, it’s made all the difference in the world,” he said, and Alex had to admit he did look better.
Interestingly, the buzz of magic seemed subdued as well, or at least Alex noticed it less, even when they touched.
“I’m glad,” Alex said, and he realised it was true. No matter his reasons for joining the Courtship, he genuinely wanted his participation to make things better for Julian.
The relieved, cautious happiness on Julian’s face was reward enough.
A servant came to the door and waited, not Godfrey but one of the many random maids that a place like this employed. “Your picnic is ready, sir,” she said with a little curtsey.
“Thanks, Janice,” said Julian, snagging his box and gesturing for Alex to join him. They meandered through parts of the house that Alex had never been in and out a back door into the warm autumn sunshine. “It’s a bit of a walk, I hope that’s all right.”
“I’m a big, healthy boy,” teased Alex, taking the box and then tucking Julian’s arm in his own. “You’re supposed to be the retiring, fragile one here.”
Julian chuckled. “I suppose I can stand being a bit pampered,” he said, giving Alex’s arm a squeeze. “You’re quite fashionable today, no black.”
Alex blushed a little. “My sisters insisted,” he said. “I feel like an aubergine.”
Julian laughed. “You look quite handsome, the designer did a good job.”
Alex blushed more, cursing his fair complexion. “Thank you,” he said. “You look quite nice yourself,” he added, letting his eyes sweep over Julian’s body just once before putting them back on the path. Julian was wearing autumn colours that suited him well, warm gold and rich red-brown that brought out the texture of his hair.
Julian gave him an impish smile. “Are you just saying that because I did first?” he teased.
“Now you’re just fishing,” said Alex with a laugh. “I’m saying it because it suits you, you look more alive like this. I might look good in black, but it washed you out.”
“I was also sleeping poorly, but I’ve had three good nights since your potion,” said Julian sincerely, the teasing put aside for now.
Alex smiled over at him. “Good,” he said. “Now, where are we… Oh, I see!” There was a rug laid out beneath one of the apple trees, with a table and two chairs set up, and servants hovering around to serve their tea.
It was Julian’s turn to flush. “They wouldn’t let me do a proper picnic, they said it wasn’t seemly,” he said shyly.
“We’ll have time for real picnics once I’ve won your hand,” said Alex, having no idea where the sentiment came from. He’d been careful up until now not to lead Julian on too much, but the surreal romanticism of the setting was getting to him. He wasn’t used to having sumptuous meals with lovely young men who supposedly adored him, murder or not.
“Perhaps we will at that,” said Julian coyly.
The servants allowed Alex to pull out Julian’s chair and place the gift to one side of Julian’s place setting, and even to seat himself, but that was as far as their moment of privacy went before they descended. Napkins were placed, glasses poured with water and a crisp white wine that tasted of apples and sunlight to Alex, when he managed to take a sip. A salad was placed in front of each of them, more apples and greens with goat cheese and what proved to be an apple cider vinaigrette.
“I take it your chef was going for a theme?” said Alex teasingly, gesturing around them once they’d both had a chance to eat a few bites. “It is quite a lovely orchard, I can see why you like it out here. I bet the view is amazing from up in the trees.”
Julian laughed delightedly. “It is, and I bet we could scandalise everyone by climbing them after pudding,” he said.
Alex grinned. “That sounds like an excellent plan,” he agreed. That started a conversation about things they’d gotten into trouble doing as children, which was a strange sort of nostalgia for Alex. He remembered loving those things, but the resentment of being constantly scolded for the things he liked best had built into a bitterness that didn’t go well with the light wine or delicious food.
It helped when he concentrated on Julian’s stories, on the note of longing for when his parents had been around still and the joy in his face when he talked about hiding out in the attic from his tutors. Alex had hidden from his siblings more than his tutors, but they both agreed that window seats were a must for happy childhood reading. That moved into a discussion of beloved books that lasted through the soup, main course, and all the way to the final course, which was sliced apples, cheese and crackers.
“Do you own a dairy, too?” asked Alex, thinking of the other ways he’d seen Alex’s chef use cheese, mostly on the salads.
Julian grinned. “Of course, there’s a bit of everything to serve the main house, you know how it is.
“I do,” said Alex with a chuckle. “It’s just strange, you know, I’m so used to takeout and biscuits and tea from Tesco that I’d nearly forgotten how each big house is its own little ecology and economy, with almost everything coming from the land around it.”
“That’s right, you know, you clean up so well I almost forgot you were one of the plebeian masses,” teased Julian.
“It’s utterly spoiled my tastes, or so my family tells me,” said Alex wryly. “They complain about the tea whenever they drop in uninvited.”
“Does this mean that they’re nicer invited?” said Julian, taking a bite of crisp apple that made Alex’s attention go to his mouth for a long moment.
He made himself laugh, but he wasn’t sure it hid the way he’d wanted to just stare at Julian’s pink mouth. “It means they’re never invited,” he said.
“I’d miss Emmy if she wasn’t around,” said Julian, a little more serious now.
“As you should,” said Alex. “Your sister’s got your best interests at heart, I think.” Again, he felt as though he’d reassured Julian of things that he himself wasn’t so sure of, but the words were said and couldn’t be taken back.
Besides, it made Julian smile.
“I hope she does let me hold a Courtship for her, once I’m married and the household’s settled,” said Julian with a soft, sad smile. “I think she gets lonely, sometimes.”
“Not half so lonely as she’d be without you, I bet,” said Alex reassuringly.
While they were talking their wine glasses were discreetly removed and the first actual pot of tea made its appearance. “How do you take… your tea?” said Julian, eyes full of mischief and voice full of innuendo.
“Three sugars and lots of milk, please,” said Alex, though he’d been tempted to make some inappropriate pun instead. He’d save the awkward flirting for when they were out to dinner and not surrounded by people who might later advise Julian to dump him as a lecher. “You might want to open your gift now,�
�� he added, accepting his cup.
“Oh, yes, I forgot,” said Julian, grinning as he untied the ribbon and looked inside. “Oh, you remembered!”
Alex grinned, pleased to have gotten it right. “You did say you got used to such plebeian treats when you were at university,” he teased.
Julian giggled and lifted out one of the little fairy cakes, setting it on a clear spot on his mostly-devoured cheese plate. “I haven’t had one of these in ages, wherever did you find them?”
“The same bakery that makes Agent Lapointe’s favourite macarons also makes these. I swear they specialise in things people have sentimental attachment to. They also have giant frosted gingerbread men all year round,” explained Alex.
“That sounds brilliant,” said Julian, peeling the paper off his fairy cake. The one he’d chosen was chocolate, with cream spilling out the top to hold up the cake “wings,” and Alex wondered if it also had jam inside. Some of them did and some didn’t — Alex had asked for an assortment to surprise them both. Julian made a face of pure happiness as he bit down on the cake, and the sound of pleased surprise that followed gave Alex a warm feeling rather lower than his chest.
“Jam?” asked Alex, and Julian grinned and nodded. Alex sipped his tea and let himself enjoy the moment without thinking about magical influences or murder suspects or anything but Julian St. Albans and the pure, sensual joy he was getting out of eating a childish treat.
It was actually quite refreshing.
“Will we have time for a little tour, once we’re done here?” asked Alex, when Julian and finished the last bite of his first cake.
“Mmm, yes, there should be,” said Julian, closing the lid on his box regretfully. “As long as I don’t take the time to eat the whole box, anyway.”
“There’s a temporary preservation charm on the box, they should last about a week,” said Alex, “so there’s no need to rush.”
Julian grinned. “You do think of everything, don’t you?” he said, but Alex took it as rhetorical. Especially when Julian went on. “You know, this would’ve been a good enough gift even without the other.”
“Well, good for you I’m especially generous,” teased Alex, having another sip of the tea and finding it quite excellent. “This is delicious, what kind is it?”
A servant stepped forward and said, “It is an Assam of the first grade, sir.” Unlike Godfrey, his manner didn’t suggest that Alex should obviously have known that, but was instead politely informative.
“Thank you,” said Alex with a grin. “I think Victor prefers Darjeeling, maybe that’s why I never like his tea.”
The servant looked amused, and Julian chuckled. “As you say, sir,” said the man, stepping back to stand with the others and their cleverly charmed serving trays, which had kept the hot food hot and the cold food cold so the courses wouldn’t grow old while waiting.
“It’s good to know you like my taste in tea,” said Julian teasingly.
Alex grinned. “I’m sure you’d be appalled at most of my pedestrian tastes,” he said, “but I have been known to enjoy the finer things when give the opportunity.”
Julian looked pleased by this particular innuendo, and Alex tried not to wonder when he would put his foot in it. There never really was an if in these situations, sadly.
“But could a man like you be happy, with only the finer things at his fingertips?” asked Julian, his tone flirtatious but face intent on the answer. His fingers skimmed over the small expanse of throat visible above his collar, and Alex had to swallow for a moment to try to remember what they were supposed to be talking about besides the possible taste of that warm, golden skin.
“I, ah, I think I could once more become accustomed to such luxury,” said Alex, trying to think at all. Why did Julian have to be so damnably attractive, anyway? He wasn’t used to the way it made his brain stutter and lose track of itself, especially when he was supposed to be gathering clues to a murder.
Julian seemed to enjoy Alex’s discomfiture, however, and his fingers slipped thoughtfully over those pink lips before he grinned and sipped his own tea. “I can see you’re already developing new cravings,” he said, looking smug and flirty at once.
There was something about the phrase, the tone, that made Alex want to check himself all over again for influences. “Not entirely new,” Alex protested, “Just more refined.”
Julian laughed delightedly at that, sipping his tea. Alex had the image of him doing just this as a child, sipping tea and looking smugly delighted whenever he got his way on something he hadn’t been sure he could convince his parents about. “It’s always good to refine one’s palate,” he said.
Alex sipped his own tea and wondered if he could get away with crying for mercy, or changing the subject. He’d always been terrible at actual flirting, he could only do it when he didn’t actually want the person, which reminded him again quite sharply that he wasn’t supposed to want this person. Which only made it worse.
He sighed and let himself smile wryly. “Perhaps I can teach you to enjoy something a bit more pedestrian once in a while, as well.”
Julian grinned. “I have always wanted to try a few things beneath my station,” he said, which gave Alex some very naughty mental images indeed.
“More tea, sir?” asked one of the servants, and Alex nearly laughed with relief that it wasn’t him who had broken through that invisible boundary of propriety to garner this subtle scolding.
Julian made a little moue of annoyance that was sexy and sort of cute, which Alex felt was utterly unfair, and waved the servant away. “We’ll just have the one cup, and then take a tour of the grounds, right, Alex?”
Alex inclined his head and sipped his tea. “As you say,” he said, but he winked over his cup.
Julian’s smile was almost as good as the thrill of triumph that he’d get his tour after all.
~ ~ ~
Alex was impressed at how well-organised the grounds were. “Did someone lay this all out on purpose?” he asked, as they crested a hill and could look down at large portion of the immediate lands.
“What do you mean?” asked Julian, head cocked curiously.
“Well, at the Benedict estate, everything grew sort of organically out from the main house, which has also grown a few times, so it’s all a bit of a patchwork, with gardens here and there and chickens in inconvenient locations, though of course out front everything seems perfect,” explained Alex.
“Oh, yes, Grandfather Julian got tired of always having to walk around the chickens and pigs to get to his hunting dogs, and he declared that they were going to have it all make sense.” Julian laughed. “The way Mother tells it, the whole estate was in total disarray for a couple of years, but after that it never ran better.”
It bothered Alex a little to hear Julian still referring to his late mother in the present tense, as though she was just on an extended vacation on the continent, but he supposed everyone must deal with grief in their own way. “It sounds dreadful to live through, but much better to live with afterward,” he said.
“Oh, yes, it’s brilliantly laid out now, everything’s so sensible and it makes less work for everyone,” said Julian. “I actually liked some of the management around the estate, back before I got all caught up with Cecil and then Emmy took over,” he said wistfully.
Alex brushed his knuckles over Julian’s in what he hoped was a comforting or possibly flirtatious manner. “I’m sure you’ll get the chance again, once your husband knows you’re interested,” he reassured him. “I certainly wouldn’t mind sharing the duties.”
“Taking care of the home is considered quite a proper pastime for a consort, too,” said Julian. “Cecil and I talked about it sometimes, but we hadn’t really figured anything out yet.”
Curious, that he used past tense for Mandeville every time, but not his mother. More mysteries, but Alex thought perhaps this one was related, somehow. “You’ve got a lifetime to get it figured out, with whoever you choose.”
&nb
sp; “With whoever I choose out of my suitors, you mean,” said Julian, that bitterness of lost choices back in his voice.
“Well,” said Alex, twining his hand with Julian’s and then kissing the back, “I hope you chose suitors you actually wanted to be Courted by, for the most part, then.”
Julian looked over sharply but he couldn’t find whatever he was afraid of seeing in Alex’s face, so he smiled wanly. “I chose as best as I could, but none of them… None of you are my Cecil.”
“I shouldn’t say this,” said Alex softly, stroking his thumb over Julian’s from tip to wrist and back again, “but I wish I could give him back to you.”
Julian flushed and looked down. “That’s not fair to any of you,” he said softly.
“Nothing about this is fair,” said Alex.
Julian sighed and looked back up, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Don’t be so bloody understanding, you’ll just make me cry and I want to be done with crying,” he said, voice tight.
Alex pulled him into an utterly improper hug. “I promise not to tell if you have one more good one in you,” he said.
Alex had always been bollocks at comfort but this felt easier, because he knew the grief of a lost parent, though not both at once, and he knew the pain of a broken heart if not a murdered lover. None of this was his fault in any way so it was easy to just be strong and reassuring, because he really was doing his best to make things better, in his own limited way.
Julian seemed to sense that and his arms came up to cling at Alex’s ridiculous purple suit and he cried, soft and sad and broken, not for long but for long enough.
“I suppose I ought not to use Willoughby’s gift with you here,” said Julian wetly, once he stepped back and began to dab at eyes and nose with one of the charmed handkerchiefs.