Christmas had never meant much to Pip. It sometimes meant easier marks as people were a little more carefree. Otherwise, he never had a Christmas dinner or any sort of celebration. So he was startled, and a little dismayed, when all of his friends presented him with gifts on Christmas Day. He honestly wished they hadn’t. It hadn’t occurred to him to buy anything for them. While he was attempting to no longer consider himself in everyone’s debt, the one-sided gift exchange did not make it easier for him. This isn’t to say he wasn’t grateful, for he loved his gifts—new clothes from Charles, embroidered handkerchiefs enchanted with quick-dry spells from Gerry, a couple of books from Gavin, a lovely set of cravat pins from the dukex, and a walking stick from Lord Finlington. He privately decided to find gifts for his friends as soon as possible.
He enjoyed the evening celebration more. Lord Finlington and the Hearsts came to dinner, along with the Hartfords’ uncle and aunt and a couple of cousins. It was Pip’s first real dinner party. The large number of people intimidated him, but as he knew most of the guests, he found himself able to relax and enjoy the banter and easy conversation happening around him. After dinner, Gerry played some Christmas carols on the pianoforte, followed by a couple of her cousins, and then everyone went home.
Shortly after Christmas was over, Mr. and Mrs. Hartford arrived in Tutting-on-Cress. They did not come with the dreaded older brother, much to everyone’s relief. They didn’t bring the younger brother either, which surprised Pip a little.
“Sebastian needs to focus on his studies,” the father had explained. From what Pip gathered after listening to the Hartfords talk, Sebastian was something of a troublemaker at school and apparently a determined flirt.
“He may well ruin his reputation if he isn’t sent down first,” Mrs. Hartford told her daughter with a sigh. Pip couldn’t entirely figure out what Sebastian had been doing that put all of his family members in grim moods. From his mental calculations, Sebastian couldn’t have been more than twenty years old.
It was Pip’s first time being surrounded by an actual family unit, parents and children, and he observed their interactions with interest. He concluded privately that Mr. Hartford was rather hard on his children and not particularly good at conveying his love and pride for them. The gentleman was a little gruff, of very few words, and smiled rarely—a colder and sterner version of Gavin. Mrs. Hartford was much friendlier and of softer disposition than her husband, but Pip noticed she seemed to take care not to disagree with her husband’s handling of things. He thought it seemed more surprising that Gerry and Gavin had turned out to be so kind and empathetic, not rebellious or boorish like their two brothers, after what was likely a very confusing upbringing. He suspected the dukex was of a similar mind. Anytime they were in the room, they never hesitated to contribute their opinion.
At one point, Mr. Hartford was explaining to Charles, “If Sebastian doesn’t correct his behavior by the end of this term, I may well pull him from school. Although, I confess, I am unsure what to do with him.”
“I suspect,” the dukex said placidly from their spot across the room, “that the child needs more attention.”
Mr. Hartford frowned at the dukex’s words. “With all due respect, Your Grace, I rather think that boy gets more attention than is quite healthy for him.”
“Not all attention is equal,” Charles said, glancing at the dukex with a small smile. “Julian’s had their share of taking care of troublesome children. They have very good instincts, I think.”
“Thank you, Charles. I would be happy to take charge of your youngest, Mr. Hartford. I could see to it that he enters society to advantage. Some young people do not thrive in schoolrooms.”
Mr. Hartford hesitated. “That is very kind of you, Your Grace. But I fear you’ve been spoiled by meeting my two best behaved children first. I have no desire to foist the least behaved upon you. I shall deal with Sebastian.”
The dukex’s lips pressed together, but they merely gave a small nod in acquiescence.
“You could always send him here,” Charles said as he led Mr. Hartford out of the room. “I’m sure between Gavin, Gerry, and myself, we could straighten him out.”
Mr. Hartford looked thoughtful at the suggestion and followed Charles.
“More tea, child?” the dukex said to Pip.
Pip jumped a bit at the direct question. He hadn’t thought anyone had noticed he was still sitting in the room. “Yes, please.” He hesitated as the dukex poured out. “You’re worried about their youngest?”
The dukex sighed and passed the cup over. “In my experience, young people who act out in such a manner are doing so because they are in need of something: support, attention, empathy, patience, boundaries, freedom. There are many reasons for that child to be causing such trouble. He should have been pulled out of school ages ago.”
“Sending him here might help,” Pip ventured. “It helped me.”
The dukex smiled warmly at him. “Yes,” they said. “I would feel at ease with that solution. Between the four of you, not to mention Bertram, I’m sure young Sebastian would have everything he needed to find his own way.”
“Me? You think I could help?”
The dukex poured themself a cup of tea. “Geraldine and Gavin have both mentioned the boy’s friends as bad influences. I imagine having a good friend like you could go a long way. Everyone says that he doesn’t take their advice. Perhaps he’s slow to trust. You know a little about that.”
Pip took a sip of tea and considered.
“However,” the dukex continued, “if he is as big a flirt as they say, I would urge you to take care. You are still healing from your own wounds. If he does come to stay, I advise you to see to it you always have a chaperone, at least until you know him better.”
“Thank you. I will. But won’t you be here too?”
They shook their head. “I’ll be going back to town after the wedding. I came here to act as chaperone with so many unwed people in the house. Once Charles and Gavin are married, they will be suitable chaperones themselves. Charles is, perhaps, a bit too indulgent to be a truly proper chaperone. But thankfully the countryside is more lenient.”
“Oh,” Pip said. “I didn’t realize you would be leaving so soon.”
The dukex put their teacup on the table and cupped Pip’s cheek. “I’ll come visit.”
Pip sniffed, feeling foolish for not knowing about the dukex’s departure. He had assumed their little household would stay the same. A ridiculous assumption, the more he thought about it, considering Miss Hartford had already told him she planned to get married someday.
The dukex pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “I’ll miss you too, poppet.”
As the day of the wedding approached, everyone got a little busier. Gavin and Charles were busy preparing the house. It turned out the dukex wasn’t the only one who planned to vacate the premises as soon as the wedding was over.
“We thought it would be nice to give Gavin and Charles some time alone,” Gerry explained as they walked to the shop the week before the wedding. “So my parents are going to stay with my aunt and uncle before they go back to Sherton. And Julia and Rose invited you and me to stay with them at their cottage.”
“Oh,” Pip said. “That was kind of them.”
“It will only be a fortnight,” Gerry assured him. “And then we’ll go back. Bertie offered his home, too. But the dukex said it wouldn’t be proper for either of us to stay with him. Well, particularly you, as Bertie is of the masculine persuasion. Staying with him for a fortnight could damage your reputation.”
Pip liked the Hearsts, so he wasn’t exactly bothered by the idea of staying with them. But he was a trifle bothered by the notion that he wasn’t permitted to stay with the viscount, even though staying with the gentleman would have intimidated him exceedingly. He was also a little startled to learn that he had a reputation that could be damaged. Hadn’t his own past inflicted enough of that? Perhaps with this new life and this sham of a history that everyone gave him, he needed to play the part of a respectable gentleman.
“Lord Finlington lives quite far from the village,” he said at last.
Gerry breathed out in apparent relief. “Yes,” she said. “The Hearsts’ cottage is much closer.”
With that, the subject appeared to be resolved.
Later, however, Gerry broached the subject again as they were closing up the shop. “Do you know,” she said, “that I’ve had the shop for almost half a year and I’ve never had an issue with getting supplies?”
Pip looked up from his sweeping. “Is there an issue now?”
She glanced over a shelf of jars. “My regular suppliers are telling me I’ll have to go to London to get some of the things I need.” She paused and seemed to be doing some sort of mental calculation. Then she stepped back and said, “You know, I think I might go to London after the wedding.”
“And close the shop?” Pip said, surprised.
“Well…” she said. “You would be here. You could run it while I’m gone. Do you think you’d be comfortable running it without me?”
He didn’t. “For how long?”
“A day or two. Maybe three.”
“Good heavens, you know I couldn’t do that,” he said. “What if we ran out of spells? I have no idea how to assemble them.”
“I could teach you,” she said, but she didn’t sound as confident as usual.
“What if I did it wrong and you weren’t here to check? I would be pleased to learn how to assemble them, but I would vastly prefer it if you were here at first.”
“You’re right,” she said. She considered. “I suppose I could ask Bertie to go for me.”
“What if I went?” he asked, the idea coming to him like inspiration.
Her eyes widened. “Oh goodness, Pip. Would you?”
He supposed he ought to be anxious about the suggestion, but the more he considered it, the more he warmed to the idea. He finally had the opportunity to do something for one of his friends and he was eager to take it. Going to London was a favor he could afford. With his saved-up income, he could buy late Christmas gifts for everyone. And there was a small niggling thought at the back of his head that he might be able to find a way to pay Jack back once and for all and put his horrible past firmly behind him.
He smiled. “I would be glad to, Gerry.”
“Smashing,” she said. “I’ll give you a list of what to buy, and the money for it, of course.”
“Would you allow me to help purchase some of the materials?” he ventured.
Her smile was soft. “If you would like to, dear.” She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
He was relieved at the prospect of being of some real use at last. Not to mention, he’d be able to delay having to stay at the Hearsts’ cottage and being a burden to them, too.
That night, Lord Finlington came to dinner and Gerry explained the plan to everyone: that she was going to stay with the Hearsts for a fortnight, and Pip was going to London for a few days before staying with the Hearsts as well.
“What a clever notion,” Lord Finlington said. “How lovely to have an assistant at last, eh, Gerry, darling?”
“I keep forgetting that Pip is an assistant,” she said.
The viscount smiled. “More like a comrade-in-arms?”
“Precisely!”
“I wonder, Pip, if you would be so kind as to allow me to escort you on your trip?” the viscount said. “It is a long journey to take alone, especially if you are unaccustomed to it. And then we can stay in my townhouse while we are in town.”
“I do not wish you to feel you must—”
“No, m’dear, I assure you. As your friend, I would like to accompany you, if you will permit.”
“Of course, my lord,” Pip said, feeling embarrassed by the viscount’s solicitude. “I should be glad of your company.”
“I will be traveling to London as well,” the dukex added, looking at Lord Finlington with an unreadable expression. “So I shall be able to join you both on the way.”
“Capital!” Lord Finlington said with a grin.
“And,” they added to Pip, “you will be staying at my townhouse. I’m sure Bertram will understand.”
Charles gave an unmistakable snort that he turned into a small cough. “You really do think of everything, don’t you, darling?”
The dukex’s smile was smug.
Pip glanced at the viscount. His enthusiasm had diminished slightly and he looked, to Pip’s surprise, a little embarrassed. When he noticed Pip looking, he gave him a warm smile. Then he said to the dukex, “That will do admirably. Thank you, Your Grace.”
Pip wondered if the dukex’s insistence had to do with his reputation, as Gerry had mentioned earlier. He never had to worry about such things before. He privately thought the concern to be a little unnecessary. After all, he was nowhere close to the viscount’s sphere. He rather thought he was more of a danger to the gentleman’s reputation; not the other way around. Perhaps that was the issue?
He muddled over the problem for days. He still considered Lord Finlington to be one of the most attractive people he’d ever met. As he examined his own feelings, he could admit that he admired Lord Finlington, looked up to him, found him appealing, kind, intelligent, and interesting. In other circumstances, he probably would have fallen in love with the man.
As it was…well, Pip was fairly sure he’d never trust himself to fall in love. He had once believed himself to be in love with Jack, but that sentiment had soured and twisted until Pip had become disgusted with himself for even entertaining the notion. He was hardly an expert on love; it seemed best to leave romance to other people who were more capable of it.
Nevertheless, at night, he’d occasionally give in to the fantasy of the viscount seeing him as appealing in turn, much as he had entertained months ago in London. He would imagine the gentleman using a special term of endearment meant just for him, picture himself putting his head on the viscount’s shoulder, think about how Lord Finlington’s arms would feel around him. He thought about how sweet it would be to kiss the other man’s upturned lips, how it would feel to trace the softness of his stomach, and the smoothness of his well-shaved cheeks. But since he felt sure the viscount couldn’t possibly see him as anything like an equal, it still stung with the same pain of impossibility that it used to.
Two days before the wedding, everything was prepared for his trip to London. As Pip helped Jennings pack for the trip—which is to say, he flitted about trying to be helpful and mostly feeling in the way—he contemplated what it would be like to return to London. So much had changed about his circumstances since he had left. He knew himself to have changed as well.
He was both excited and nervous about the prospect of visiting the city that had been his only home for so long, where he had first felt fear and misery. He worried a little that the viscount’s offer to join him was partially out of distrust or fear that Pip would run away. He tried to comfort himself from that niggling worry by thinking instead that it may have been more out of concern for Pip’s safety and comfort. This both cheered him and made him feel guilty.
The night before the wedding, Pip decided he was relieved that the dukex had intervened. He felt sure that if he stayed in the viscount’s house overnight, he would be horribly distracted by the knowledge that Lord Finlington was sleeping nearby. Pip had a notion that the viscount would be a very enjoyable person to curl up next to, for he suspected the man would be as tender and kind in action as he was in word. The notion sparked a strange and gentle yearning to slip into the gentleman’s bed and snuggle under the covers with him. Naturally, after imagining that, it took forever for him to fall asleep. His mind was a tumultuous mess of thoughts and worries. It was well into the morning when he finally dozed off.
The day of the wedding, he was relieved by the small assembly, especially as it was all people he knew. Gerry sat next to him and took his hand in hers as she watched, dabbing her eyes a little with a handkerchief. Pip looked about him and realized that everyone was either family or very close friends. The fact that he was considered a close enough friend to be present made him want to cry too.
When Charles spoke his vows, Gavin looked at him as though he could hardly believe he was real. When Gavin spoke his vows in return, Charles pulled the other man into an embrace and passionate kiss, in what Pip suspected was a breach in proper protocol, if the dukex’s tutting was anything to go by. Pip glanced at the dukex and was relieved to note that they weren’t really annoyed, merely exasperated in a fond sort of way. Pip turned back to the couple and couldn’t help but grin when they broke off the kiss and Gavin’s face lit up with a rare smile.
Afterwards, the couple walked home, followed by a crowd of villagers who had come to cheer them on. Pip and the others followed in the newlyweds’ wake, and he allowed the crowd to buoy his spirits rather than intimidate him. He was, after all, surrounded by his family.
Once they returned home, there was a large and sumptuous meal. Gavin seemed particularly on edge throughout the event. When someone suggested leaving the newlyweds alone and Gavin blushed under the subsequent attention, Pip remembered their conversation in the garden and realized the young man was anxious about the intimacy that was to come. He relaxed a little at the realization, feeling confident in Charles’s ability to calm Gavin’s nerves.
After breakfast, Pip’s belongings and the dukex’s trunks were loaded onto a carriage. Lord Finlington’s carriage was then brought forward. He helped Pip inside, the dukex sat beside him, and the viscount sat on the seat opposite, much as he had on their journey there. The viscount informed him that they would place the speed spell as soon as they reached the country road.
This time, the viscount did not prompt Pip as he placed the materials on the road—although he did need assistance with the sigil. The viscount had him do the incantation, repeating it until Pip had it right. Pip employed his recent studies of feeling magic to sense when the spell had taken hold and he kept those senses up as he took the preparations apart. He could feel the spell still attached to the carriage and the horses, but as he rubbed the sigil out of the dirt, he felt the last traces of the spell on the road melt away.
“Marvelous job,” the viscount said as Pip stood. “My word, darling, you do have the knack.”
Cheered by his success, Pip climbed back into the carriage. It was strange, traveling on the power of his own spell, with a book in hand, and returning to London a different man than when he had left it. He found himself looking out the window, his book lying open in his hands, lost in thought.
“All right, m’dear?” Lord Finlington said.
Pip started and then smiled at the gentleman. “Yes, sir. Just thinking how different it is to be going…back.”
“Not a bad feeling, I hope?” the dukex said.
“No,” Pip said. “A good one. I feel as if I’m a different person now. I feel as though I shall find London a different place than when I left it.”
The dukex returned his smile. “I daresay you will.”
When they stopped to recast the speed spell twenty-five miles later, Pip managed entirely by himself with no prompts, reminders, or assistance. He felt the magic for balance, looked up at the viscount for assurance, and then cast the spell.
He felt inordinately pleased with himself as he climbed into the carriage. It seemed to him that he had passed an unspoken test by re-casting the very first spell he ever attempted. He thought about how it would feel when he paid off his debt with Jack, another test he had yet to pass. His stomach churned with nerves at the prospect of encountering Jack, but he was determined. Lord Finlington had once said that he was responsible for overseeing Pip’s redemption, and Pip was determined to prove himself worthy.