I ate alone in the restaurant, watching the back and forth of waiters serving larger parties and couples. I felt rather old and invisible and it seemed all who looked at me eating on my own did so with piteous gazes.
I could not get the happenings at Dunecht Hall out of my head. There were so many unanswered questions. Did Cavell set the chimney afire to act as a distraction so he could steal the Staff? That awful scenario seemed most likely to me. The hall was constructed of thick stone and so the whole house would not have caught alight, but there was plenty of smoke to blacken the walls. And why had Cavell stolen the Staff at all? Was it, in fact, his true prize and he’d lied to me about wanting the gold and gem Tigers head ornament?
After dinner, I ordered a bottle of Port to be sent to my room. I was not in the mood to be sociable, so I would spend the remainder of the night reading and writing in my diary.
The Visitor
On returning to my room I found that the fire was lit and I was not alone. I smelled pipe smoke. I strode into the lounge to see a pair of splendid boots drying out on the hearth. I knew who they belonged to.
“Ah, you’re back at last,” Sebastian Cavell said as he exited my bathroom wearing nothing but a towel, and using a second towel to dry his ginger hair.
“I hope you don’t mind. I was frozen to the bone and took a good hot bath to get my blood pumping again.” He explained.
Cavell disheveled was a lovely sight to behold I was quite lost for words. His skin was flushed and glistening and from his bath. Sebastian’s chest was broad and ginger blond hair covered his pectoral muscles and ran down to his navel where the white hotel towel covered up his decency. His arms were slender, with small defined muscles and they were lightly freckled. There was elegance to his frame, and seeing his pale-skinned nakedness left my mouth dry and my heart working hard to keep the blood moving around my body.
“I…I... What are you doing here?” I attempted to protest at his unexpected appearance and his presumptuous lack of manners, but it was as if my mouth would not marry with the thoughts in my head. This man had me completely befuddled. A knock at my door made me start. I remembered with horror that I had ordered a bottle of Port to be delivered to my room. I could not very well allow the waiter into my chamber where a half-naked man stood.
I rushed to the door and on opening it the room service waiter made to enter but I put a foot to the back of the door to prevent it from opening any further. The waiter gave me a quizzical look. I reached for the docket and pencil, signed my illegible scrawl upon the receipt and then grabbed the bottle by its neck, and the two glasses, and said a dismissive, “Thank you, goodnight”, and then closed the door on the dumbfounded fellow.
“Ah, a man after my own heart, I see!” Sebastian enthused when I returned to the lounge and he saw what I held. I was grateful that he had donned trousers and a shirt while I had dealt with the waiter. Then I noticed that the garments were mine. We were of similar build but I was horrified that this man, this stranger thought it acceptable to take my clothing without even seeking permission. He saw the stunned look on my face and then said,
“I got soaked to the skin and my trunk is still on that ruddy train in Carlisle. I’ve hung my clothes to dry in your bathroom. The radiator in there is nice and warm.”
“What do you mean your trunk is in Carlisle?”
“I planned to get back to London before you so I could seek you out and take you up on your invitation to dinner, but this blasted weather scuppered that idea.”
“That invitation was for John Edwards of Massachusetts, not Sebastian Cavell.”
“I can be whoever you want me to be, dear heart!” He said flirtatiously. I felt my cheeks redden, but secretly, I did like it when he called me that affectionate name.
“The train kept stopping and I knew there was no way we’d reach London today. We paused at Hamilton while navvies cleared the snow from the track. I hopped off the train, borrowed a horse, and rode back to Glasgow. I knew you would be stranded too, and what better place to seek refuge than the hotel adjoining the train station.” Sebastian surmised.
I was pleasantly surprised by the warmth that ran through me from head-to-toe knowing the lengths Sebastian had taken to return to Glasgow to see me. But I couldn’t for the life of me understand why he’d done it. Why was this man so interested in me? My countenance toward him softened and it appeared I didn’t mind him wearing my garments after all—if it was a choice between my shirt and trousers or a bath towel.
“Would you care for a glass of Port? I’ll warm the bottle by the fire if it pleases.”
“That would
