Sebastian watched me licking his spill from my fingers. His laughter vanished, his look grew dark, and he gasped.
“My God, Benedict. Look what you do to me!”
“Dear boy,” I replied
“I haven’t even started!”
Domesticity
For two days and nights Sebastian and I were alone at my Townhouse where, in privacy, we became more acquainted with one another’s pleasures a little better. Two days with my friend was not enough by far, and our time together was not only about slaking mutual lust. We talked a great deal, ate together, and used up evenings with fireside reading. More than the passionate sensuality, it was the companionship that made my heart flutter. I had previously convinced myself I was not worthy of a companion and would make a morose partner, but it was surprisingly easy to make space in my life for Sebastian. We had many intellectual pursuits in common—he appreciated art and antiques. We both read widely and enjoyed the music of Elgar. We read out newspaper stories to one another and laughed at the character assassinations of The Gentleman Thief, or Dandy Rogue—the use of moniker dependant on the quality of the newspaper! Quality presses used the former, and those papers whose output was of a more scandalous nature preferred The Dandy Rogue as it gave the thief a more romantic bent!
I discovered that Sebastian was not only a courteous guest, but he revealed many hidden talents. He was very hands-on when it came to domestic necessities, like remembering to turn the fire on in rooms we planned to utilize, and dealing with meals—things that my servants had always done for me and I forgot to do for myself.
As was routine, I attended my morning church service alone, however, the sermons of damnation and hellfire for sinners, fornicators, sodomites, and adulterers that usually felt like they were specifically aimed at me, did not penetrate the bubble of warmth in my heart. Although I took comfort in my worship I wished for the service to be over as quickly as possible so I could get home and into the arms of my lover.
Mrs. Twigg returned on the morning of the third day. She had caught the early train from Sevenoaks with two tired, bedraggled maidservants in tow. They had all been caught in a fierce downpour walking from the train station and were soaked to the skin. The ladies stood in the doorway of the dining-room looking like drowned rats on a riverbank. They stared at me and my guest, and at the breakfast spread, their faces morose as if I had done them ill.
I was working my way through my breakfast, and a stack of invitations to social events. Attending the Cavendish Ball had made me a more acceptable guest for the London elite, and although I would not be attending any of these new soiree’s, I was privately pleased that I had not been seen to make a fool of myself—and that none had realized I dance with a man disguised as a woman!
“Have you employed a new housekeeper, sir? I’ve only been gone for a few days.” Flora grumbled.
I laughed out loud at the wounded accusation in her tone. Maybe my housekeeper expected to find my house turned upside down because she was not caring for me?
“Don’t worry, Flora. You are quite irreplaceable. Birdie stopped by for breakfast and gratefully, it appears he knows his way around a kitchen! You know as well as I that I don’t know the right side of an egg!”
Mrs. Twigg gave a wan smile. I was sure she was alarmed that any man had fingered through her panty without permission! I must say I was pleasantly surprised that one of Cavell’s talents was cooking. Bacon, scrambled eggs, tea, and toast adorned the table. He had delighted in the meal’s creation as if he were an artist creating a masterpiece. His liking for domesticity gave me butterflies of happiness inside and for the life of me, I did not know why.
“Oh, there was a letter on the doormat for you sir”, Maud, the youngest of the maids spoke up. She scurried into the room and passed the envelope to me.
“Thank you. Now ladies, go and get those wet clothes off and warm your selves. I can’t have any of you catching a cold. In fact, take the rest of the day off. You can resume your duties tomorrow.”
The ladies gave each other peculiar side glances and I could tell they were surprised by my good humor. The house was mostly as they had left it, apart from the musky, stained bed-linen that Cavell and I had slept on. Sebastian thoughtfully stripped the linens from my bed and put them to soak in the laundry, and then remade the bed. Was there anything this man was not prepared to do? The servants curtsied and trudged up the stairs, leaving us to finish our breakfast.
Two days had passed since The Dandy Rogue handed Leopold to his retainer and watched them board the ship to Germany. Over the top of today’s Times Cavell explained,
“The Christiania will make port in Hamburg later today, and then, as I understand it, they will meet with his father’s guards for an escort back to Thüringia.”
“I imagine the boy experienced one hell of a hangover when he awoke—and was rather vexed to discover that he was abducted and at sea.” We grinned at one another, pleased at having completed our good deed.
I absently tore open the letter that the maidservant had handed to me. I was in such good humor that for a time I quite forgot the bad business that had pushed Sebastian and me closer together. I unfolded the letter and saw the black, spidery script that I recognized. Horrified, I dropped the letter, then peered
