Chapter 7

Over the course of the next two weeks, Andrew spent most of his days sorting through his uncle’s affairs and packing for the London Season, his only reprieve the nights he spent with Jeremy. Packing was longer and more tedious than Andrew thought it would be, though it helped that the only two who would be leaving were Andrew and Jeremy. That did not mean they were left out of the packing process, however. Phoebe took it upon herself to oversee both Andrew’s and Jeremy’s wardrobes. If Andrew insisted on taking Jeremy under his wing, she insisted he should at least look presentable. Even scaling back, it took several footmen to help carry the chests to the carriage.

Having Jeremy along with him made the time pass much quicker than it otherwise would have. The ride through the country could be dull, especially as the leaves had only just started to form on the trees. Spring wasn’t yet in full swing. Jeremy’s presence, however, made the journey much more pleasant. They spoke of London, at first. Jeremy had only been once or twice, several years earlier. Conversation eventually turned to Oxford. Where Jeremy had been in Wadham College, Andrew had been in Worcester, and they discussed what life had been like in each. It came as no surprise that Jeremy had expressed no interest in sport during his time at university. Andrew, on the other hand, had been part of the rowing club when it was introduced.

“I suppose I enjoyed working as part of a team,” he said. “The inclusion, the feeling of belonging. It surprised no one that I bought a commission after graduating, and not simply because I was the second son.”

“Was it ever difficult, hiding who you were from them?” Jeremy asked.

“Remarkably enough, it wasn’t. Desiring other men is an integral part of who I am, though it is not the only part of who I am. Just as you are an artist, a son, a Christian, there are other parts to me.”

Jeremy’s cheeks tinged and he ducked his head. “It was not my intention to suggest there aren’t.”

“I know. Allow me to explain. While I was at Oxford, I learned to separate that part of myself away from every other part. It was the…the thing that stayed locked away in my room or my wardrobe. The only time I allowed it to come out was when I found someone else like me. Someone willing to go to bed for a few nights and nothing more. You’ll find it is impossible to remain with one partner for long, lest the rumours start. Exclusivity is nearly unheard of among men like us.”

“You and I are exclusive, though.”

Letting out a sigh, Andrew nodded. They were, for the moment. He was Jeremy’s teacher, though. The exclusivity wouldn’t last. It was better to shatter those illusions now, before Jeremy got too attached. That was what Andrew kept telling himself. “We are exclusive, yes. I’ve agreed to teach you what you need to know. Once we reach London and you learn all you can from me, you’ll find someone else who can better suit your needs. Several someones.”

Jeremy let out a sharp breath, and Andrew nearly wished he hadn’t said anything. It would have been so easy to let Jeremy keep his innocence, just for a while longer. Easy, but cruel.

“I know it sounds harsh, Jeremy, and I will not turn you away the minute we reach London. You know as well as I do that being the way we are is dangerous. I would not want you to be the target of rumours or slander. I care for you. I want you to succeed. That is why I am doing all of this. But you will not always be under my protection. You will eventually leave my home and that will make a relationship difficult for the both of us,” Andrew explained.

He knew his words did little to ease Jeremy’s hurt. It was still there, present in those grey eyes that held more emotion in them than Andrew thought possible. Jeremy’s hands were clasped together in his lap, so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and he had pressed his lips together in a grim line. There had to be some way to make this better.

“I understand this is difficult, seeing as I was your first, but believe me, once you figure out what sex can be, you’ll never look back.” His words were coming out wrong. As much as he wanted to bring Jeremy some kind of comfort, he knew that he was only digging himself deeper into a hole. “You’ll move on to bigger and better things. You’ll forget about me, I assure you.”

“Shut up,” Jeremy said sharply. “Just stop talking. I don’t want to hear what you have to say.”

Jeremy turned away from him, pressing his cheek against the glass, and Andrew’s heart sank. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull Jeremy to him, but that would likely only make matters worse.

They rode in silence for several hours. Jeremy eventually nodded off, and Andrew was left to contemplate his next move. The best thing would be to find a patron for Jeremy as soon as possible. They could break off their ties to one another. Jeremy would receive the stability he needed, and Andrew could go back to his life of isolation. It was safer that way.

***

By the time they reached the inn, the sun had set and a chill had settled. Even inside the coach, the temperature had dropped, and Andrew had pulled out a thick blanket to cover the both of them. Jeremy had shifted closer to the warmth and eventually rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder. Not that Andrew minded. He didn’t want to force Jeremy away just yet. As they pulled to a stop in the mews outside the inn, Andrew shook Jeremy’s shoulder.

“You have to get up. We’ve reached the inn.”

Stirring, Jeremy groaned and stretched. “Where are we?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Boxford.” Andrew pulled the blanket off of them and shivered. Folding it up, he replaced it underneath the opposite seat. “We’ve stopped for the night. We can have supper and a proper rest.”

Or as proper as they were going to get. The door opened and the solemn-looking driver nodded at the both of them.

“This way, my lord.”

Andrew climbed out of the carriage, his muscles seizing as he did. Even though the carriage had made frequent stops to allow him to get out and walk around, the ride had been hell on his back. He stretched as he waited for Jeremy to join him, then walked into the inn. It was a well-kept, clean establishment, its polished wood beams gleaming in the firelight. Low ceilings and a grand fireplace gave the space a cosy feel that helped cut through the chill. A large, portly man stood at the bar as Andrew and Jeremy approached.

“Good evening. Obadiah Bowles at your service. What can I do for you sirs?” he asked.

“I need two rooms for my friend and myself, and lodgings for my driver. I’ll also need a hot bath and supper sent up to the rooms.”

The man nodded and took two keys from a row of hooks on the wall behind him. “Aye, here you are. That’ll be eleven shillings.”

Andrew pulled out his purse and handed the coins over, watching as they were deposited directly into Obadiah’s pocket.

“Thank you, sir. That’s upstairs to your right, third and fourth doors on the left,” Obadiah said.

Their driver had brought in valises for both Jeremy and Andrew, so Andrew took his, leading Jeremy to their rooms. It was interesting to see the way Jeremy looked around, as though he were trying to take everything in.

“Have you never stayed at one of these before?”

“Years ago,” Jeremy answered. “The journey to Oxford takes less than a day, and the last time I visited London I was only a teen.”

Andrew opened the door for Jeremy, helping him inside his room. The lodging was simple, just a bed, a washstand, and a table and chairs, but that was all either of them needed. Rather than leaving Jeremy alone and heading next door, Andrew closed the door behind him and stood just inside.

“I wanted to apologise for my words today. What I said was unkind, and I understand that. Forgive me.”

Even though his words had been nothing but the truth, Jeremy needed a softer touch. He didn’t need Andrew reminding him that this was temporary.

Jeremy stood silently, his arms crossed. He pursed his lips, then spoke. “I know why you said it, and I know that you’re probably right. That does not mean I want to think about it yet.”

“I understand,” Andrew said with a nod. “I will not bring it up again.”

“Thank you.” Jeremy looked past Andrew at the door. “You should leave now. The maids will be up to bring our baths.”

Andrew nodded, taken aback by the boy’s distance. By bringing attention to the fact that their time together would end, he realised suddenly that he had alienated Jeremy. He had betrayed his trust. Regaining that trust would be difficult.

“I see.” He opened the door. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

After making his way next door, Andrew sat at the table and chair looking idly at his hands. The room had seemed cosy when he had entered, but now he found it far too large. Normally, Jeremy was there at the end of the day. Being alone now simply felt wrong.

Nearly an hour later, Andrew climbed into bed, missing the warmth of Jeremy next to him. He’d become so used to having Jeremy in his bed at night that going without him felt like something was missing. The absence of Jeremy’s head on his chest, the young man pressed against his side, was disconcerting. Andrew found himself tossing and turning. He’d never missed anyone like this in his life. When he had been at Oxford, he’d had a series of lovers, and the same had been true in London. Not even when he and Ned had broken things off had he felt this kind of loss.

Yet here he was, pining away like a schoolboy for Jeremy. Only a wall separated them, and yet the distance felt far greater. Angrily, Andrew threw off the quilt and climbed out of bed. He sat down hard on the small, plush chair in front of the fire and stared into the flames. What made Jeremy so special? He was untried, optimistic, and so thoroughly pure. All of those qualities stood in direct contrast to Andrew himself—Jeremy’s naivety to his own jaded outlook on life. Part of Andrew wished he hadn’t brought Jeremy along. He wanted to shield him from the city and everything it contained. But there was no going back now. They were halfway to London, and he had promised Jeremy a future.

The pain in Andrew’s neck woke him. Shivering, he opened his eyes and jolted at the sight of Jeremy standing over him. Every muscle from his neck to his ass spasmed, and Andrew shouted in pain.

“What the hell are you doing?” he gasped. He attempted to right himself, but found moving to be virtually impossible. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Jeremy shook his head and took a step forward. “I was about to wake you, but you were talking in your sleep, so I thought it might be better to let you keep on.”

“Do I want to know what I was saying?” Andrew asked warily.

“Nothing particularly bad. Mainly barking orders.”

The war. It was always the war. Andrew eyed Jeremy carefully as the boy walked around the chair. The boy’s hands on his shoulders felt wonderful, and then a searing mix of pain and pleasure shot down his spine.

“Oh my god. I’m not sure whether to cry or kiss you.” White spots danced in front of Andrew’s vision.

“I would highly advise against that. The door is unlocked.”

“Right. What time is it?”

“A quarter past eight. What time did you want to leave?”

Jeremy ground the heel of his hand against Andrew’s shoulder, and he let out a groan.

“In an hour or so—oh god do that again. That should put us in London this evening. I’ve sent a letter ahead so my staff know we’re coming.”

Jeremy simply hummed, and Andrew found himself wishing that he could tell what Jeremy was thinking.

“How did you sleep?” Andrew asked, more to fill the silence than anything else.

“Fairly well. The bed was a bit uncomfortable.”

After sleeping in a bed as grand as Andrew’s, he could certainly see how this bed would leave much to be desired. “These inns aren’t known for having the best beds,” he said with a shrug.

“How about yourself?” Jeremy asked. “Was the bed so uncomfortable that you had to find your rest in a chair in front of the fire?”

Andrew hesitated. He didn’t want to give Jeremy false hope, or any reason to believe that their relationship was anything more than that of a teacher and student. “I found the bed to be too large,” he admitted. Jeremy could make of that what he would.

***

Jeremy’s mind was still reeling from Andrew’s admission when they climbed in the carriage an hour and a half later. Andrew had missed him. In fact, not having Jeremy by his side was what had driven him from the bed. That couldn’t be right. This was the same person who had assured him that they were nothing more than teacher and pupil.

“Are you all right?”

Andrew’s words pulled him from his thoughts, and he pushed off the side of the carriage.

“Perfectly fine. Merely attempting to make up for last night’s lack of sleep.”

“I understand. Get some rest. It’s still several hours before we reach London.”

Nodding, Jeremy settled back against the seat. He allowed himself to drift, his thoughts turning to Andrew even as he hovered on the edge of consciousness.

When they arrived in London, the sun had just started to set. Jeremy rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Long rows of brick and stone buildings rose up on either side of the carriage as they made their way down Oxford Street. With so many people and carriages surrounding them, Jeremy found it hard to breathe.

“It gets easier the longer you’re here,” Andrew said.

He gave a reassuring smile, and Jeremy tried to smile back, but he knew it hadn’t been successful.

“There’s just so much. So many people, so many buildings. Not a speck of green in sight.”

“What were you expecting?” Andrew asked drolly. “This is one of the busiest streets in the city. It’ll get better as we move down the side streets. Until then, welcome to London.”

Jeremy did his best to keep his bearings, looking at the street signs every time they turned a corner. Brook Street, Bond Street, Old Burlington Street. Andrew had been right, of course. The number of carriages and pedestrians had dwindled as they made their way out of the shopping district. Instead, townhouses lined either side of the street. They pulled to a halt in front of a tall stone building. It had a number of windows, and the forest green door was trimmed in white.

“Is this yours?” Jeremy asked.

Andrew nodded. “I’ve been living here since I returned home from Spain. Most of my friends live relatively close.”

The door to the carriage opened, bringing with it a gush of air. The stoic coachman stood to the side, ushering Andrew out and then Jeremy. Jeremy stretched, looking around. After being in the carriage for so long, it was nice to work out the kinks in his muscles.

Walking up to the door of the townhouse, Andrew knocked firmly. Jeremy followed, standing just behind him. He watched Andrew, pursing his lips. Where Jeremy found the situation overwhelming and confusing, Andrew seemed to enjoy being back in London. His eyes lit up in a way that Jeremy hadn’t seen before. It was almost as though he were returning to life. Jeremy dragged his gaze away as the door opened. An elderly man stood in the doorway. He was shorter than Jeremy, with stark white hair that had receded in places and completely disappeared in others.

“Master Andrew.” The man’s eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled.

“It’s good to see you, Lawrence.” Andrew clapped the man on the shoulder before walking through the door.

The entrance was more cramped than the one at Avery, and with two footmen helping carry their cases in, Jeremy felt nearly suffocated.

“Lawrence, this is Mr. Jeremy Leighton. Jeremy, meet Lawrence. His formal title is butler, but he wears multiple hats. Most importantly, he was the one who helped nurse me back to health,” Andrew said.

Jeremy shook the elder man’s hand, noting the familiarity between master and servant. Lawrence could have been Andrew’s grandfather, as close as they were. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

“Don’t listen to a word he says. I might have helped nurse him after those Spanish surgeons got their hands on him, but I was hardly the only one.” Lawrence turned to Andrew. “Do Percy and the others know you’re here?”

“Not yet. I was planning on going to Boodle’s tomorrow and taking Jeremy. They should be there.”

“I see. And you, Jeremy, Lord Cardwell wrote that you’re to be his portrait artist. How does one become a portrait artist at such a young age?”

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak but Andrew answered first.

“He’s talented. I saw his sketches and his father was friends with Uncle Richard. I thought it would be mutually beneficial if I lent my support.”

“Of course.” As the clock chimed, Lawrence straightened. “Let me see you to your rooms. I’m sure you’re eager to be settled after such a trip.”

The three made their way up the steps, following the footmen who carried Andrew’s cases. Andrew’s room was at the front of the townhouse, with two large windows to let in the light. The walls were papered with blue and gold patterned panels, and cerulean carpet spanned the entirety of the room. A large, four-poster bed took up one wall and in front of the windows sat a writing desk and a chair. It was the most luxurious room that Jeremy had ever been in, and that included the rooms at Avery. This was different. Each detail had been chosen with the most painstaking care.

“We’ve set up a room for Mr. Leighton as well,” Lawrence said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Andrew replied, waving a hand dismissively.

The older man paused in the doorway, looking between Andrew and Jeremy.

“I see,” he said eventually. “Mutually beneficial, is it?”

Jeremy’s stomach twisted and he refused to look at the butler. Aside from Andrew, no one knew he preferred the company of other men. Andrew, however, simply smiled, leaving Jeremy even more confused.

“Exactly it,” Andrew said with a nod.

“I shall inform the others.” Bowing once, Lawrence turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Why the hell did you say that? It isn’t that kind of arrangement and you know it isn’t. I would have gladly stayed in another room.”

Lawrence would run off and tell the other servants, who would tell servants of other masters. Jeremy knew how servants gossiped. He would never find a position now. And all over a choice of bedroom.

“Steady on, Jeremy.” Andrew sat and pulled off his boots, a grimace marring his face. “My servants do not talk. They are arguably the most secretive in the whole of London. Thaddeus Wilkes might best me, but I would hardly be willing to wager on it. The point being, I pay them well for their silence. They know my preferences. It’s one of the things I look for in a servant: one who’s open to beliefs and lifestyles different from his or her own.”

“But how do you know they won’t spread rumours?” Jeremy asked. “And how did you find these servants in the first place?”

Andrew lay on the bed, his hands linked behind his head. “References, mostly. Discreet hints among the community. An acquaintance who might have to let some of his servants go to help pay a debt, for instance. He might mention that he had someone in need of employment who could keep a secret. Not to mention some of the servants are the same as us.”

That gave Jeremy pause. “You mean some of them like other men?” he asked.

“Not just that. Some of the women prefer other women.”

“I didn’t know that was possible,” Jeremy said. He scrunched his nose. The thought of bedding one woman was bad enough, but imagining two women together...how did it even work?

“Why wouldn’t it be possible?” Andrew asked. “Women experience just as much pleasure as men in the bedroom.”

Jeremy blinked, taken aback. He walked over to a chair in front of the fireplace and sat down, crossing his arms.

“How do you know that?” he asked. The words came out far more accusing than he had intended.

“Because I’ve been with them on certain occasions. Not often, and I definitely still prefer the company of men, but I can assure you, women feel just as much.”

“Why would you bed them if you had no preference for them?”

He couldn’t quite wrap his head around that idea. Women had never held any sort of appeal to him, and he had thought the same for Andrew. The very thought of going to bed with someone he wasn’t attracted to seemed wrong. Jealousy bubbled in his stomach as he imagined Andrew with the mysterious Lady Dersingham. Had they been lovers in the past? Had he made her feel as good as he had made Jeremy feel?

“I was much younger, and I wanted to see if my inclinations were merely a passing phase or if I truly did prefer men.”

“I see,” he said, though he didn’t actually.

Instead of pressing the issue, he walked over to the bed. Opening his case, he started to unpack. Even if Andrew had been with her, it was no concern of his. Andrew meant nothing to him. He was a friend. A teacher. Nothing more. And if Jeremy repeated that enough times, he might actually believe it.

“What are our plans for tonight?” he asked.

“We’ll rest and have some supper,” Andrew answered. “Tomorrow, that’s when the fun begins. Tomorrow, I’ll show you my side of London.”