Speak Its Name: A Trilogy (27 page)

We reached our allocated seats and my father led Lady Pelham away while I secured Emily for the first set. My future was now running in two paths. Either I should come out of this evening an engaged man, or a disinherited one.

The expression in Emily’s eyes surprised me not a little; for whilst she was as gentle and compliant as ever, and I knew the dances to be two of her favourites, her eyes held a hardness that I had not seen in them before. She looked more like her cousin than ever, and my heart hurt at the reminder of the look on Adam’s face at our last meeting. It did not bode well for my chances of further acceptance and the brightness of the evening dimmed a little more in my eyes.

What a couple we were, and how ridiculous I imagined we looked. I could almost feel the room quivering with the expectation of my proposal, all eyes upon us as if I were going to drop to my knees at any moment. My father was standing behind Lady Pelham and the smile on his face could not have been wider, the look in his eyes as he fixed me from across the floor could not have been more clear. The music began and we were engaged in movement, trapped for at least the half hour.

“I am glad to see you in such good health, Miss Pelham.”

“You flatter me, sir.”

“Not at all,” I said, although I ached with an almost irresistible urge to run, for all the good that would have done. “I was quite concerned, for yourself and for your cousin’s health. I am glad that Dr. King did not hear that I allowed you to flee Bath when he had been so solicitous. It gives me joy to see your colour high and your eyes so lively. I owe your doctor my gratitude.” I was an ass, and I knew I sounded like one.

“Perhaps,” the dance brought us to rest, side by side, “my high colour is merely brought on by how very displeased I am with you at this moment.”

I almost missed my cue and almost had to skip to keep my place as she moved off. When we came together again I murmured, “If there is some disservice I have done you, please let me know, for I would do anything to undo it.” I searched my memory for some insult or slight I may have given her, but could think of none. Even tonight I had made sure that flowers were delivered to her house before she set out. I had been happy to see (what I assumed to be) one of my blooms, something pink and frilly, on her shoulder.

“You have done nothing to me personally, Major Chaloner. But by implication you have hurt me as you have hurt another. You forget, I think, how very close, and how fond of each other my cousin and I have always been.”

How could I forget? This sorry mess had come about because of Adam’s protectiveness towards her, but I gleaned from the unusual arch of her brow that she meant a little more than she had said. I had no chance, indeed, if I had have had, I would have not been able to speak, as my thoughts were as tangled cobwebs. “You and he have had a falling out, I understand,” she continued. “Is there no way you can become friends again?”

I knew I was flushing, and everything I feared would happen was just about to fall on me. Did she know? Had Adam really told her everything?
Oh, we grew up together,
he’d said in Bath,
we’ve always confided in each other.

“I don’t know what your cousin has said,” I said carefully. It was hard to concentrate on the complicated turns and the conversation as it spiralled out of control, let alone attempting to keep a smile on my face.

As she put her hand in mine for the promenade, she squeezed it and smiled for the first time that evening.

“He has said nothing to me of his present unhappiness,” she said, and she frowned a little. “He refuses to speak to me at all, and I’ve never been so excluded before. But he has said much to me recently.” She paused as we separated and as we came back to together for the rest she said, “Of his great,
great
happiness.” Her look and the repeated squeeze of her hand let me know what she meant. “He means a very great deal to me.” We moved diagonally over the set, and when we came back, she said with a full and meaningful glance, “
too
.”

My world seemed to tip sideways a little, as I took in what she was saying. Adam still loved me? He was miserable that we were separated? It seemed too much to understand. “Thouless...” It was the one word that had tortured me.

“Oh—that monster,” she said. “Adam owns a horse with him, Major.” She paused and I could see her phrasing her answer, for we were in public, no matter how little likely we were to be overheard. “My cousin has a little more sense than that. And a
great
deal better taste.”

It took an entire chorus for me to form any kind of response. When I had to opportunity to speak, I merely said that we should speak more when the set was over. Somehow we reached the end, and, avoiding my father’s eyes I swept Miss Pelham outside without the least care for propriety or the wagging tongues.

Once in the moonlit gardens, I slowed and attempted to give the impression of a young man sauntering along with his betrothed.

“I find you hard to answer,” I said. “It is completely outside my experience.”

We had reached a fountain and she stood and looked into the water for a moment in silence. “I hope you think no worse of me, sir. And my experience is no more extensive than your own. But Adam has been my closest friend for all of my life and his happiness is bound up in mine as I know that mine has always been safe in his care.” That much was true and I nodded, numbly. “I understand the conflict between Adam’s world and the rest of society, but I’ve always known, and been privy to, his secrets. We were so young; we didn’t knew it was wrong when first he began to speak of it.”

She was more eloquent in this indelicate matter than ever she had been on any other before and I was startled, impressed; a warm feeling of friendship flooded through me.

“Still no answer?” She put her hand on my arm and we continued around the fountain. “I wonder what your silence means. Is it that you are stubborn as Adam attests, (which is quite as stubborn as he is himself), or the simple fact that neither of you silly men realise that the answer lies in your hands, Major Chaloner, yours and yours alone.”

“Mine?”

“The answer is as simple as it can be.”

“It is?” I really didn’t understand her.

“Perhaps you didn’t know, and there’s no reason why you should, that Adam and myself had long decided that when I marry and move to Wenson House—with my
husband
—that Adam, who has no settled home or income of his own, would always have a home with me.”

There was a deafening ringing in my ears as if every bell in London were sounding at the same time. It couldn’t be that simple. It couldn’t. The girl couldn’t mean what she was saying. “But... you...” was all I could manage. I needed to speak to Adam, I felt that if I could just speak to him, he could decipher this all for me.

“I have been raised to marry, Major Chaloner. That is my role in life. I like you a very great deal, and that is more than I expected. When your father first called on us last winter I thought that perhaps my mother intended me for him.” Her voice had not a little vigour in it. “But that was luckily not the case, although should you not...” We walked for a while longer in silence while I took this in and then she said. “I think, unless you object strongly, we should go back in and face the congratulations? That is, unless you refuse me, Major Chaloner?”

“Yes—yes, I mean no! I don’t know what to say.”

She laughed then, went up onto tiptoe and kissed my cheek. “I think that’s what we like best about you, Geoffrey. Adam should be here by now. I made him promise to come. He didn’t want to but I insisted. I think you should ask him for my hand in marriage now, don’t you?”

“Again?” I said, aghast and we laughed together for the first time. We were still laughing when we re-entered the ballroom.

~

I found him in a side-room, gambling and drinking, a look of pure misery on his face. Unseen by him, I watched the play from the doorway, and I imagined how it would be when we would sit in our home together, perhaps us three, perhaps just he and I and be friends, brothers, lovers. As it should be. I was still reeling that it
could
be.

One of the players finally called to me, “Chaloner, isn’t it? In or out, man, the noise from that infernal orchestra sets me teeth on edge.”

“Miss Pelham has sent me to fetch her cousin,” I said, not taking my eyes from the object of my desire.

Adam had started like a deer at the first syllable of my name and was glaring at me with a look not dissimilar to the one he’d had for me early on in our acquaintance. He stood and excused himself, throwing some coins onto the table with a casual grace. I held the door open as he stalked past and I led him into an empty room that I’d found whilst looking for him, and locked the door behind me. It was dark and I lit the candles on the sconces by the fireplace, then turned to find him scowling. I was so happy to see him, I didn’t care if he scowled at me from now until Doomsday.

“From the look of your idiotic grin, I’m assuming this is some childish, military prank. And since my cousin is conspicuous by her absence, I’ll return to my game.” He turned to go.

“Don’t go. Adam. Don’t go.” He turned back, slowly, leaning heavily on his cane. Then I said the wrong thing. “You were losing, anyway, weren’t you?”

He sneered at me. “That’s what I wanted them to think. Don’t you know the expression about being lucky with cards, Chaloner?” He sat down, as if grateful to take the weight off his leg. “All right. It’s not like I can run away from you. What is it?”

I moved closer to him, so I was standing over him. “I want to marry Emily.”

He tried to stand, but I was too close. I pushed him back down.

“Let me go,” he growled. “You don’t need to prove to me how much stronger you are.” His voice was full of bitterness. “You made that very plain.”

“I’m not going, and I’m not going to let you go either. Or Emily. I want you both.
She
wants us... both.”

“What are you saying?” He looked revolted.

“I’m asking your permission to marry Emily,” I said. “Where were you going to live when Emily married? Or is she not telling me the truth?”

His face contorted as he processed the information. “She said... she told you... she wants...”

“Yes. Yes and yes.” I was delighted to see him lost for words for once and that made me laugh out loud. “Will you...?” I couldn’t ask him the question; that would never be possible for us. I wanted him, loved him. I touched his hair and told him just that.

“But. How? What? She?” I could see the questions lining up in his agile mind, hard and fast one after another, so I leaned forward and kissed him silent, feeling him relax as I pushed him back onto the settle. He didn’t need to answer me—it was a solution, and not one we ever could have anticipated.

There were a thousand problems in front of us, all of us, but I knew that between Emily’s courage and Adam’s fearlessness, we’d all get what we deserved.

I certainly had, in fact, a lot more than I deserved.

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Charlie Cochrane

Charlie Cochrane primarily writes historical gay mysteries/romances, although she has to admit that her favorite short story is the one she wrote about gay werewolves. She started writing relatively late in life but believes she draws on all her hoarded experiences to try to give a depth and richness to her stories.

Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby, and a church service in the evening, with her husband and daughters tagging along, naturally. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport, especially rugby.

Aftermath
, Charlie’s story in
Speak Its Name
, was the first story she had published and holds a special place in her heart.

Charlie’s Cambridge Fellows Mysteries Series, set in Edwardian England, is available through Samhain, and she has stories in the anthologies
Past Shadows
and
I Do
(MLR) and
Queer Wolf
(Queered Fiction).

Lee Rowan

Lee Rowan has been writing since childhood, but professionally only since spring of 2006, with the publication of her Eppie-winning novel,
Ransom
. She is a lady of a certain age, old enough to know better but young enough to do it anyway. A confirmed bookaholic with a wife of many years, she is kept in
line
by a cadre of cats and a dog who gets her away from the computer and out of the house at least once a day.

Erastes

Erastes has been writing since 2003, and has had two novels, three novellas and over 20 short stories published, which have appeared in anthologies by Alyson Books, Cleis Press, STARbooks and many others. She specialises in gay historical fiction and works hard to bring attention to the genre. She owns Speak Its Name, the only review site to concentrate on gay historical fiction and is a member of The Macaronis, a group of like-minded authors. Her second novel,
Transgressions
, was one of the flagship releases by Running Press in their M/M Historical Romance line which is being marketed directly at the existing romance market.

She’s also the Director of the Erotic Authors Association, and lives on the Norfolk Broads in England. She is drawing on the landscape of the local area for her next novel, a Victorian Gothic mystery,
Mere Mortals
.

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Bristlecone Pine Press, an imprint of Maine Desk, LLC

10A Beach Street, Suite 2

Portland, ME 04101

First Bristlecone Pine Printing, October 2009

Aftermath, copright © Charlie Cochrane, 2008

Gentleman’s Gentleman, copyright © J.M. Lindner, 2008

Hard and Fast, copyright © Erastes, 2008

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