A Proper Lover (Ganymede Quartet Book 2) (52 page)

“It surprised me to see Benjamin in regular clothes,” Henry told him. “I think I’ve mentioned before that Uncle Reggie used to dress him up like a prince in a fairytale, and kept his hair in these long ringlets…he really stood out. They both did.”

“Well, why not, Sir? Your uncle is the kind of man who can’t disguise what he is, anyway, I think. With me, it’s not quite so obvious. Of course, there’s no real stigma for a slave, Sir.”

“What about me?”

“No one would guess, Sir. They would have to see how you are with me in private to have the least inkling.”

“What about Jesse?” Then, before Martin could answer, Henry said, “No, wait. I think ‘bohemian’ covers it.” He laughed and lifted his head off of Martin’s leg. “I feel calmed down now.” He dared to take Martin’s hand and gave his fingers a brief squeeze. “I should try to talk to Uncle Reggie again, I think.” Henry got up out of the chair. “Let’s go down and find him.”

Reggie wasn’t in the parlor with the ladies, nor was he in the library with the men. Father wasn’t there, either. Henry spotted Uncle Gilbert in the crowd and made his way over to him.

“Hello, Uncle Gilbert. Merry Christmas, sir.”

“Henry! Why aren’t you upstairs with the others? Everyone’s getting along, I hope?”

“Everything’s fine, Uncle. I’m looking for Uncle Reggie. I wanted to talk with him some more, if he has time.”

“Reggie’s in conference with your father,” Uncle Gilbert said. “They’re using my office. I don’t think you should interrupt, though.”

Henry didn’t think he should, either. “All right then. I’ll wait. Thank you, Uncle.”

“It’s good to see you, Henry. You’re so grown up now. A real young gentleman.” Uncle Gilbert clapped him on the back and gave him a sort of one-armed hug. “Oh, there’s Malcolm. I need to speak with him, Henry, if you don’t mind.”

“No, that’s fine, Uncle. I’ll find you later to say goodbye, at least.”

“That’d be lovely, Henry,” Uncle Gilbert said. Then, calling over Henry’s shoulder, he said, “Malcolm!”

Henry made his way out of the smoky library into the hall. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that Father and Reggie were talking or not. Was Father going to send Reggie back to Italy? What would Mother do if he did? She seemed so happy in Reggie’s presence. And what about Henry himself? Not only had Henry missed Reggie’s kindness and the color he had brought into his world, but if Reggie was a fairy, as Henry was quite certain he was, then he might be the one person Henry could talk to about his own situation.

They wandered idly about the house. The slaves were busy in the dining room, removing all the leaves from the long dining table and setting up card tables so that the family might play euchre. Henry watched them work, loitering at the sideboard and picking all of the chocolates out of a dish of candy.

“Can I get you anything, Sir?” Martin asked. “Something to drink, perhaps?”

Henry shook his head. “I’m all right. Thanks, Martin.” He handed Martin a chocolate drop that was only a little melted from the heat of his hand and Martin ate it readily, which Henry found peculiarly erotic. He loved that all he need do was offer something, anything, and Martin would take it willingly into his body, whether it be food, drink, or some part of Henry himself.

It was amazing to him that he’d only known Martin these past four months and yet felt about him the way he did. It truly felt as if Martin were essential to Henry’s very existence. He thought of his mother, bereft after the loss of her brother. How would
he
feel if Martin was taken away? Oh, it was too horrible to think about! He just needed to continue to exercise caution, keep all signs of his outsized attachment hidden.

The ladies began to drift out of the parlor and towards the card tables. Mother was talking animatedly to Aunt Virginia and, though she leaned on Pearl’s arm, she seemed less of a dragging burden than usual.

“Henry, darling!” she called out. “Have you seen your Uncle Reggie?”

“Hello, Mother.” Henry stepped away from the sideboard and greeted her with a little bow. “I believe he’s with Father,” he told her. “That’s what Uncle Gilbert said.”

“Oh.” Mother stopped short, blinking. “Oh. I hope that’s good news.” Her mouth trembled and she forced a smile.

Aunt Virginia patted her arm. “I’m sure it will all be fine,” she said soothingly. “Try not to worry, Louisa, dear.”

Mother looked as though she might cry. “Pearl,” she said. “Do you have my medicine?”

“Right here, Ma’am,” Pearl said, reaching into her dress pocket. She turned to Aunt Virginia and asked, “Might we have some tea for Mrs. Blackwell, please, Ma’am?”

Mother was led to the settee that had been pushed into the corner to make way for the card tables and a slave was sent for tea. Mother’s lady relatives gathered protectively around her and there was no need for Henry to be there, none at all. “Come on,” he said, with a jerk of his chin, and Martin followed him from the room.

In the library, the men were leaving their cigars to smolder in the ashtrays and swallowing the last of their drinks, readying themselves to join the ladies at cards. Father stood champing on a cigar and talking to Uncle Gilbert and a few of Mother’s cousins, all of whom seemed interested in and attentive to whatever he had to say. Father might not be the most well-liked person, but Henry knew that he was invariably right about business matters. That didn’t mean, however, that he was necessarily right about other things.

Father saw Henry through the crowd and waved him over. The adults parted to let Henry join their circle. “Has this been a merry Christmas for you, son?”

It was, for so many reasons, none of which would likely meet with Father’s approval. Henry decided to admit it anyway. “Yes, sir. Very happy.” He wanted to ask where Uncle Reggie had gone, but hadn’t the nerve. He did look about furtively but did not see Reggie anywhere, though Reggie was short enough that he might easily be lost in a crowd.

Father had known at once what he was doing. “If you’re looking for Reggie, he’s gone to find your mother.”

Henry wanted to immediately go after him, but feared making Father angry. He stood looking guilty and discomfited until Father laughed at him somewhat ruefully and waved him off. “Go on,” he said. “Go find him. I don’t think Reggie can do you any harm at this point.”

“Very good, sir.” Henry turned and rushed from the library, Martin on his heels.

Once again, Reggie sat beside Mother on a settee, holding her hand while she cried. When Reggie looked up and saw Henry, he brightened and smiled. “Henry! Darling boy! Come here and sit with us.”

Henry wended his way between the card tables. “My father,” Henry began, slightly out of breath. “What did he say to you?”

Reggie reached up and patted his arm. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“But are you going to stay?” Henry desperately needed to know, for his own sake and for Mother’s sake.

“I have some last bits of business to attend to in Italy,” Reggie told him, “but I can come home for good after that.”

“Really?”

“Really and truly,” Reggie affirmed. “Now, sit. Sit and let me get to know you again.”

Henry pulled up a chair from the nearest card table and sat with his knees bumping against his uncle’s. With a glance over his shoulder, he saw that Martin was right there behind his chair, his hand resting on the back.

“What do you want to know, Uncle?”

“Oh, everything, darling!” Reggie leaned forward and patted Henry’s wrist. “Do you have a lot of friends? You were so friendly with that rough little boy down the street when you were young? Do you still know him?”

“That’s Louis Briggs. He’s still my best friend.”

“He was certainly a noisy child, so boisterous and rowdy, like a little terrier! He had a great number of siblings, as I recall.”

“There are seven Briggs kids now.”

“Oh, my! I know your father wanted a big family, but
seven
children just seems so
unnecessary
to me, darling.” Reggie shook his head, seeming dismayed by the prospect. “Do you have a lot of other friends?”

“Well, there are eighteen boys in my class, including me, and I’m friends with eleven of them.”

“Those others are completely beneath notice, I’m sure!” Reggie patted his arm again. “And of course you’re all new slave owners this year. That’s been exciting!”

Henry blushed to think how exciting it had been. “I’m very happy with my choice,” he said. “Martin is a really good slave.”

“Was he a Superior boy? My Benjy was Superior, too. Ganymede boys truly
are
the best, don’t you think?” Reggie smiled at Henry, then directed a smile at Martin. Turning to Henry again, he said, “Tell me, darling boy, what do you do for fun?”

“Er…” Obviously, Henry wasn’t going to mention sex, though this was certainly what came immediately to mind. “Well, I like to read—”

“You always did,” Reggie affirmed, giving him another pat. “You could get lost in a book.”

“There’s a serial I’ve been following for years and years, and now Martin reads it to me and does voices for all the characters.”

“Oh, my. Is he an actor, then?” Reggie looked up at Martin again. “Are you a thespian, young man?”

Martin sounded flustered, perhaps surprised to be addressed. “Oh, no, Sir. I only like to read aloud.”

“What else do you enjoy, darling? Are you artistic like your cousin?”

Henry shook his head. “I don’t have talents like Jesse.”

“You have talents of your own,” Reggie said with confidence, though Henry wasn’t sure he was right. “You were always such a graceful child, so well-coordinated. Watching you play was like watching a ballet.”

Henry thought this was surely an exaggeration. “Well, I’m still good at…physical stuff, I guess. Sports and dancing.”

“Wilton men are
all
good dancers.” Reggie offered this up as if it were an indisputable fact.

“We like to go riding,” Henry noted. “None of my friends much care for it, and Louis is afraid of horses, but Martin loves to ride.”

Reggie offered Martin another smile. “You chose well, then, darling.”

“We play poker all the time, too. I’m pretty terrible at it, actually. Martin almost always wins, but it’s just fun to play anyway.”

“As I recall, you were never terribly interested in winning,” Reggie said. “You were a generous, fair-minded little boy, and I think you must be a sweet, giving young man.”

Henry blushed. “Oh, I don’t know.”

Reggie turned to his sister. “Louisa, what do you think?”

“Oh!” Henry’s mother had not expected to be put on the spot and seemed slightly panicked. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’re right, Reggie.” Truthfully, Henry didn’t think she knew the first thing about him, and he felt embarrassed for both of them; he didn’t want Reggie to know how terrible they’d become without him around.

Reggie gave Mother a stern look but said nothing; still, it seemed he had some inkling that things were not exactly right between Henry and Mother.

The Wilton slaves came around offering coffee and tea, and Henry took coffee with cream, which Martin prepared for him. Reggie and Mother both took tea, and Henry accepted a plate of ginger cookies.

Reggie sipped his tea fastidiously, pinky extended. “What about school? Do you get good grades?”

“I get As in math,” Henry told him. “I’m average in other subjects, I guess.” He decided to omit any mention of Latin.

“Oh, that’s good, darling. I haven’t a head for numbers
at all
. That’s why I could never make a go of any business.” He sighed and let Mother take his hand in sympathy for his failures. “What about a sweetheart?”

Henry shook his head adamantly. “I’m not interested in girls,” he said firmly, wanting this to seem significant to Reggie, but his uncle heard the information impassively and did not question him further in this regard.

“You seem very fond of each other,” Reggie remarked, giving Martin a nod. “There’s an ease between you. Are you benefitting from ownership, do you think, darling? I mean, are you learning the lessons you’re meant to learn? It’s such a tumultuous time in a boy’s life.”

“Uh…” Henry scrambled for something to say. He’d learned everything, but nothing he could talk about. “Well, having Martin around has made me a better person, I think. I’m definitely a better brother than I was before.”

Reggie’s brow wrinkled, quizzical. “How is that, darling?”

“Martin is good with children, and Cora adores him, so I’ve been paying more attention to her than I did before.”

“How fortunate for Cora. She seems a delightful child. Very outgoing. She was telling me all about some circus you gave her?”

“Martin picked it out,” Henry confessed. It was important to him that Reggie understand how special Martin was, how vital to Henry’s happiness, but he couldn’t just come out and say that.

But Reggie must have had a sense. He smiled up at Martin and said, “The right slave makes such a difference, darling. I think you’re very lucky.”

While they talked, the men had come into the room and people were sitting down at the tables. A chair was brought in from another room to replace the one Henry had taken. Father stood in the wide doorway to the dining room talking to Uncle Gilbert. He sent Timothy over to inform them that they’d be taking their leave imminently and an additional slave was dispatched to fetch Cora and Nurse from the nursery.

“I need to say goodbye to Jesse,” Henry said, standing reluctantly.

“It’s good you boys like each other so well.” Reggie smiled up at him. “I’d always hoped you would.”

Henry knocked on Jesse’s door and a few moments later Russ opened it. “Come in, Sir.”

Both Jesse and Eli lounged on the floor looking rumpled and indolent, but they were clothed, and the slaves were at least half-clothed. Lyle lolled on the bed, seemingly asleep.

“Are you leaving, then?” Jesse stood and stretched. “Let’s try to see one another again before next Christmas, all right?” He stepped forward and hugged Henry and said, “I’d like to know you better, Henry. We’re almost grown. Surely we won’t have to do what your father wants forever?”

Henry wasn’t as sure, but he didn’t say so. “I always like seeing you, Jesse.”