Winter's Bees (10 page)

Marcel closed his eyes.
Yes,
he wanted to say,
I want you to stay and help me undress and bathe. I want you to share sweet kisses with me and let me take you to bed and make love with you before dinner. Or at the very least hold me and tell me we will be all right, despite this rift between us.

"No." He opened his eyes and turned back to Gilbert, giving him a small smile. "I can bathe and dress on my own, thank you."

Gilbert nodded and let himself out.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and Marcel opened it to allow in a small parade of servants.

The footman with his trunks was followed by several servants carrying a copper bathtub, the hot water for it, soap, shaving requirements, and linens. A stout older woman began unpacking his trunk and laying out a fresh evening suit while the tub was filled and his bathing supplies set out. The floor was covered with linens and more were set aside for him to dry off with.

"Will that be all?" the older woman asked, turning to him when the preparations were complete.

"Yes, thank you. You may leave." Marcel smiled and waited for them all to fill out before he began undressing.

It was harder than he cared to admit to undress and get himself into the tub. Most of his arms were not able to be submerged in water, and it was always a bit of a trick getting in and out of the bathtub with only one arm and fewer than two good legs. Today was particularly difficult, though, as his leg threatened to give out on him almost at once and he nearly fell.

He managed the rest of the process of bathing, shaving, and redressing, however, without incident.

A servant led him back down stairs and down a long hall to a small dining room where Gilbert sat, candles on the table lit and wine already poured.

"Please sit." Gilbert rose when he saw Marcel coming around the table. He did not pull out the chair for Marcel, but he did hover while Marcel sat.

Reaching up and kissing Gilbert on the cheek would not be improper, even for a marriage based on political convenience rather than love. Nevertheless, Marcel resisted.

"How are things in the city?" Gilbert asked, sitting across from Marcel again.

"Fine, everything that needs to be taken care of has been."

A servant brought in their soup.

"We need to talk," Marcel said, and Gilbert fumbled with his spoon.

"We are talking."

"You know perfectly well what I mean." Marcel glared across the table and then sighed, shaking his head. "You've been avoiding me, and I know this is largely my own fault, but I do not want lose you as a friend, so please let us talk about this and try to work something out."

"I …" Gilbert looked away and swallowed hard. "I would like that too."

"Good." The tension in Marcel's chest loosened a little bit, and he smiled at Gilbert.

Gilbert reached for his wine glass with a hand that trembled ever so slightly, and Marcel longed to reach out to him. He wished they were not sitting so far apart across this stupidly large table, wished that he could reach out and touch or comfort Gilbert and would have known that such an action would be welcomed. But of course such actions would not be welcome. He clenched his good hand in his lap.

The servants came bearing the main course, and Marcel reached for his own wine. He thought of the plan he'd come up with in the carriage. Although every fiber of him screamed at the idea of Gilbert being in someone else's arms, it was still the best plan he had. With a new love, Gilbert would not have so much time or inclination to brood over the mistakes Marcel had made.

"We should hold a party."

Across the table, Gilbert did not try to hide his grimace.

"Oh, come now," Marcel said. "A housewarming, now that we are settled in."

"Must we? Did we not just have a ball to celebrate our marriage vows?"

Despite himself, Marcel couldn't help but laugh at the look of dread on Gilbert's face. "Just a small party," he cajoled. "I will handpick the guest list myself. Who knows, you might enjoy it."

Gilbert let out a disbelieving snort.

Marcel propped his chin on one hand and considered Gilbert. "If I threw a party here, would you attend?"

Gilbert seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. "I suppose, if you feel you must, I would attend. For you."

"Thank you." Marcel lifted his wine glass to his lips. Normally he would have tucked such a statement away to replay during private moments and pretend Gilbert had meant something more by it. Right now, he was simply glad Gilbert would speak to him in friendship and that he would have a chance to put his plan into effect.

"When you first returned, you spoke of having moved a good deal forward on your research," Gilbert said, sounding almost tentative now, and Marcel shook himself from his thought.

"Yes, indeed."

"I would love to see the progress you've made." Gilbert ducked his head, his cheeks coloring as if he'd asked something improper, and Marcel nodded.

"Certainly, tomorrow, perhaps once I have my things settled." He gave Gilbert what he hoped was a teasing smile. "You know how I love to speak of my search, at length."

"And I always enjoy hearing it." Gilbert looked away, seeming ill at ease again, though Marcel could not imagine why. Their conversation was truly harmless enough, or perhaps Gilbert was still not as comfortable as they both might wish in Marcel's company. Even thinking that made Marcel's chest ache.

He wished desperately that he could take back the kiss. Yet he knew also knew that if he truly had the chance to go back and do it over, he probably would not be able to stop himself from kissing Gilbert. As selfish as that made him.

When they were finished with dinner, Marcel poured himself more wine and stood, taking the glass with him. "Would you like to retire to the library?" he asked, giving Gilbert a small smile. "You could even show me were the library is."

"I thought you might want to retire early," Gilbert said. "You seemed so tired when you arrived, but if you feel up to it, yes, certainly."

"I found the bath I took before dinner refreshing." On impulse, Marcel offered Gilbert his arm. A jolt went through him when Gilbert first took the wine glass from Marcel's grip and then linked his arm with Marcel's proffered one.

"This way," Gilbert murmured, eyes averted and cheeks a little pink. Marcel bit his lip hard to keep himself from doing or saying anything he should not.

God, was this how it would be now that they were married? Gilbert, such a constant lovely temptation, and Marcel unable to do anything about it?

He prayed not. Maybe once Gilbert was well settled with a lover of his own, Marcel's own passion would fade. Maybe he would look Julian up again and resume their arrangement, or find someone new. He doubted he would ever love anyone else the way he loved Gilbert, but it would be good to have someone with whom he could share affection and intimacy. Once Gilbert was settled, he could think of himself.

The library was as large as Marcel had imagined it would be. Every wall was lined with bookcases from floor to ceiling and every shelf filled with books. Gilbert had taken the liberty of bringing not just his own collection but also Marcel's to the house. There was also a fireplace, already laid with a fire, and two large armchairs before it with a small table to hold books or a drink next to each chair.

Gilbert let go of Marcel's arm and set the glass of wine he'd been carrying on one of the tables. Marcel circled the room, inspecting the shelves and touching the spine of a book here and there.

"Does it meet with your approval?" Gilbert asked, and Marcel turned to find Gilbert watching him and looking once more truly anxious, as if he were afraid Marcel would find fault.

"It does." Marcel smiled and moved across the room to stand beside Gilbert at the fireplace. They both sat in the armchairs facing the fire, and Marcel set his cane aside and reached for his glass. "Do you have everything settled in here, your collection and such?"

"I do." Gilbert fidgeted with the edge of his jacket for a moment, gaze fixed on the fire. "When I first came, I thought I would not enjoy living here, you know. My main residence hasn't been anywhere other than the palace since I was a small child. I thought being out here would feel like some kind of banishment, but I like it here. The house is large, as are the gardens, and there are forests and the lake. I thought it would feel overwhelming; instead I find it gives me just enough space to do anything I please as far as my research is concerned. I like being away from the city and the palace. I like the quiet of it."

Unbidden, the image of Gilbert in a walking suit and straw hat ambling through the forests and fields, trapping or sketching insects as he encountered them, or working in his botanical gardens came to Marcel's mind. He smiled at that thought, imagining himself spending his days pondering chalkboards of equations before coming down to dinner to find Gilbert windswept, sun-kissed, but most of all happy.

He wanted that life more than anything, more than the social life he'd built for himself in the capital, more than any chance to teach at the new college of science and technology. He would do anything to make the image of a quiet life of study and companionship a reality.

"I'm glad you feel you could be happy here." He took a sip of wine to fortify himself. "Although you know you are free to return to the city any time you choose."

"I know," Gilbert said, seeming genuine. "And I most likely will from time to time, but I too am glad I can return here without any regrets."

Marcel swallowed thickly. "I would like the same."

They stared at each other from across the small space that separated their chairs.

"Marcel," Gilbert said after a long moment. "I do not blame you, you know, nor do I harbor any sort of ill will against you, either for our marriage or for your regard."

The fingers of Marcel's good hand tightened into a fist. "I should not have forced a kiss on you as I did."

Gilbert made a soft noise. When Marcel looked at him, he was gazing at the fire, once more seeming troubled, which only made Marcel's own stomach twist worse.

He took a breath. "That I did, in a moment of weakness, force you into such an act is something that I should forever regret."

"Come now, you shouldn't … shouldn't think that way." Gilbert raised his chin, looking determined now. "I have quite forgotten it."

Which was so blatantly a lie that under different circumstances Marcel would have laughed and teased him about it. Now he only forced a smile that felt quite wooden on his face and he was sure looked even worse.

"Perhaps," he said, reaching for his cane and pushing himself up, "I should retire early after all."

Gilbert gave him a long worried look. "If you're sure …"

Marcel forced another smile. "It's been a long, taxing day."

"Well, I hope you sleep well, then." Gilbert gave him a small, tentative smile of his own, and Marcel fled before he could do or say anything unwise again.

*~*~*

He was in the library, lying on the hearthrug and being rather thoroughly kissed. Fingers tangled in his hair as a hot mouth pressed against his, tongue probing deep. The heavy weight of another body settled on top of his, legs entwining with his own.

Gilbert groaned, already achingly hard. He pushed himself against the larger man on top of him, rubbing his erection against the man's hip. The man above him let out a small growl of pleasure, lips trailing down to Gilbert's throat, loosening and casting aside his cravat as he want. He bit hard at Gilbert's throat, making him gasp aloud, and Gilbert tried to reach up, to touch the other man in return. His hands were forced away, held tight but not painfully by one of the other man's hands, and pinned against the carpet above his head. He forced Gilbert's legs apart with his knees. For a moment, he felt eyes on him, roving across his body, and then his hands were freed and the man flipped him over, pushing his face down, leaving his backside up. The hands unfastened his breeches and pushed them down, leaving him fully exposed.

Heat burned through Gilbert like a fever. In his deepest, darkest fantasies, he imagined himself being manhandled and taken roughly. He'd never experienced it, though, mostly didn't even let himself fantasize about it when he pleasured himself alone at night. Maybe if he and Tristian had remained together… But in his heart of hearts he knew he would never have trusted Tristian enough with this.

Whomever the man who knelt behind him was, he trusted him.

Slick fingers probed at his tight hole, stroking and pressing until he could barely stand that fire that burned through him.

"Please." Gilbert clawed blindly at the rug under his hands. "Please. Oh God, Marcel—"

He sat bolted upright in bed and swore, violently, for several moments. Between his thighs, his cock ached and throbbed in time with his heart, the head already slick with his own preseed. His tight shirt was tangled around his belly, sweat across his back and chest made his skin feel clammy all over, and his bed covers were in disarray.

Gilbert flopped back down onto his pillows and tried to will away his arousal.

It had happened again.

Again.

He thumped the pillow next to his head hard and screwed his eyes shut. He'd hoped actually seeing Marcel would knock some sense into him, but if anything it seemed to have only enflamed his nightly passions further. Gilbert took several deep breaths and then let his hands slide down under the blankets. He grasped himself, stroking slowly, not thinking about anything in particular, just enjoying the feel of his hands on his cock. It didn't take long for his passion to crest, and Gilbert pressed his face into his pillows as his body shook through his release.

After a moment of relaxing in a blissful haze, Gilbert sighed and rolled out of bed.

Marcel was not at breakfast. Gilbert dined alone and ordered a tray be brought up to him.

He still had not finalized his plans for the botanical gardens. So he took tea and his papers into the library and spread them out to begin going over layouts for beds and lists of available seeds.