Gothic Romance - (LGBT)

Chapter Eight

The two men stared at each other for a long time, trying to take each other's measure, wondering if they could trust each other's word, even if it was given. 

Jonathan's eyes were the bright blue of the sky at midday, his black locks framed his forehead, emphasising the blue white pallor of his skin. His curved lips were pinched together in a tight line as he stared back, his gaze wide and challenging. 

Lord D'Anvers dropped his eyes first, trying to hide the hot flush of desire he felt rising through his body as he looked at Jonathan, standing there defying him. He took a couple of slow breaths. Much as a wild part of him longed to make Jonathan his prisoner here, to be totally at his mercy, he knew it was just a foolish dream. They weren't living in the middle ages! Jonathan would have friends, family who would enquire about him if he disappeared for too long.  

No, much more sensible to stick to his plan, keep him at arm's length. For as long as he could. 

Jonathan felt as if he were frozen to the spot, something about that look in D'Anvers eyes before he had dropped them, had his pulse fluttering. He knew he wasn't safe there, he knew he should leave again, at the first opportunity. Why was he hesitating? 

"Who is the man in the West Wing?" he asked suddenly, unwittingly bringing D'Anvers back to earth with a crash. Jonathan wanted an answer to that, before he made any sort of promise. 

At first, he thought D'Anvers wasn't going to tell him. For a split second, Jonathan thought he saw a flash of pain cross the other man's face, before his expression took on its habitual closed, shuttered look.  

He didn't know why that should tug at his heart strings, after all, he had never met a man less in need of sympathy than D'Anvers, but it did. 

"He's Harry Benton, he was Evelyn's tutor. Until he got ill. I promised to look after him, and I have, but when the madness started, he had to be kept away from Evelyn, from everyone." 

"Everyone except you, and the maid, Florrie. She's his nurse, isn't she?" guessed Jonathan. That would explain the servant's visits to the West Wing. 

"Yes." 

It was evident to Jonathan that Harry had very likely been more to D'Anvers than his son's tutor, but he held his tongue. D'Anvers was working hard to pretend nothing had happened between them, it wouldn't help either of them to put his suspicions into words. 

"I agree then. I give you my word not to leave here without asking your permission." He could only hope he wasn't making a dreadful mistake. 

~~~ 

The next morning, it was as if nothing had happened. Jonathan came down to breakfast and was soon joined by Evelyn, who enquired politely if his head was feeling better now. It was obvious that the boy knew nothing of what had transpired. 

Jonathan murmured some appropriate response, grateful that Lord D'Anvers had apparently eaten already and left the house early. The next few days passed smoothly enough as they slipped back into their old routine, Jonathan and Evelyn spending their days studying, and only seeing Lord D'Anvers at the evening meal. After a brief hesitation, Jonathan resumed his practice of introducing a topic of conversation at dinner and his lordship joined in, quite in his old manner. 

After a couple of weeks, Jonathan began to believe that perhaps it was possible to pretend nothing had happened.