Revelations an adaption of Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 173

The rest of the afternoon seemed to take forever, at least for Simon, since there was very little for him to do after he had dressed Mr Darcy for his first meeting with Mr Manners' friends. Whilst Simon attended to Mr Darcy, both his master and Mrs Darcy had been very kind to him, which surprised him since he had to admit he had deported himself rather poorly the day before, being insolent to the man who paid his salary and who had ignored Simon's mooning over him for years, and finally protected him from superior staff wanting to bring him down for his perversion. All this time, Simon had enjoyed the privileges Mr Darcy had given him without realising his master saw right through him. He should be thankful for the trust Mr Darcy had gifted him with, allowing Simon to instruct his wife in the ways of city life, dressing Miss Darcy for special occasions, letting him choose his master's coats and pantaloons, and almost all the presents that were passed around in the family.

Coming to the conclusion that even Mrs Darcy apparently cared about his well being, Simon decided to be honest to both of them on what had happened between him and Mr Manners so far, and what he was planning to do with the gentleman that evening. Maybe they disapproved of Simon indulging in his perversions whilst under their protection, or maybe he was overlooking some obvious danger in forming an attachment to a man of their class.

During and after dinner, things became a little more interesting for Simon. There was no way in which a visiting male personal servant could help the regular staff, however busy they were with a house full of guests, without making a spectacle of himself, but there were plenty of new faces to get acquainted with to help pass the time. Talking to the valets of Mr Manners' friends was reasonably entertaining and almost worrisomely informative, and in their company evening came and eventually went, however slowly. Supper was long past, the view from the windows was pitch black, the day was coming to an end. Time to go meet his master and mistress as they retired.

Outside, snow was still falling thickly, and even in the front of the house the hallways were sparsely lighted and cold, but the drawing-room would still be warm and bright with a roaring fire and plenty of lamps. From his regular waiting spot at the top of the stairs Simon could hear the sounds of the piano playing and people conversing lively, Mr Bingley and his guests were obviously enjoying themselves very much.

Simon expected Mr Manners' friends to make a very late night of it, their valets' stories had been very enlightening on what seven bachelors did to avoid being bored, and Mr Manners seemed to be a key figure in their close group. Frankly, having heard some of their men's descriptions of the kind of entertainment their masters usually preferred, Simon's hopes of Frederick having fallen for him had more or less shattered: it was obvious to him why Frederick didn't join his friends in their debaucheries with women and booze, but it was also painfully obvious he wasn't ready to lead the retired life which was needed to keep a forbidden love hidden from the world.

In the cold and dark main hall, Simon used the time he waited for his master well, deciding whether he wanted Frederick to be the first man he slept with if that was all he was to be. There was no reason to expect the bachelor of bachelors to be the first of his friends to settle when he would never be able to do so openly. Simon had to face the harsh reality, most likely Mr Manners was just enjoying another party, one where he could finally indulge himself in his own personal vice: sleeping with men. Knowing this, having no expectations of him, was Simon still interested in meeting him tonight?

His reason said 'no', reminding him of how the gentleman had so carelessly lured him into talking freely of the man who meant the world to him, his master. But then he felt the memory of those strong hands on his skin, the adulation he'd gotten from the self-assured, dominant man, the insecure little boy he'd seen for a few blessed moments. He remembered the heavy muscle on the chest and arms, the wealth of black hair on the strong body and the smell of it. Would it be such a bad thing to enjoy all that for just one night, or maybe two or three, as long as they were both here at Netherfield?