The Christmas Wager (14 page)

was brimming with steaming water, Andrew set his tea down

and said, ―Perhaps you‘ll excuse me while I bathe.‖

―Oh, Andrew,‖ Thomas said with an irritated sigh, ―why

must you insist on keeping things awkward between us. I

would like to have another cup of tea while you bathe, as I have

hundreds of time in London.‖

Andrew frowned, but again could think of no real reason to

insist that Thomas leave. Truthfully, the main reason he felt

uncomfortable was because it was all so self-conscious now.

But perhaps Thomas was correct that returning to old habits

would ease the discomfort.

―Very well,‖ Andrew replied, stripping off his undershirt.

―Have your tea, then.‖

It was while he was testing the water with his hand that he

glanced over and noticed Thomas looking at him intently. It

wasn‘t an innocent look, but one that seemed to be taking in

every detail of his naked body—not exactly lecherous, but not

exactly the way one man generally looked at another, either.

―What is it, Thomas? As you say, you‘ve seen me bathe

hundreds of times before.‖

Thomas didn‘t reply straight away, but set his tea down

and came over to stand in front of him. His expression was

quite earnest. ―I suppose I‘ve been wondering… you described

my body as beautiful last night.‖

―To me.‖

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―I was wondering if I would find yours to be beautiful as

well,‖ Thomas continued, ―if I took a moment to look at it

closely.‖

Andrew couldn‘t stop himself from blushing.

―That‘s rather awkward, don‘t you think?‖

―I‘m sorry.‖

He didn‘t seem inclined to
stop
his examination, so

Andrew straightened up and made a gesture of surrender.

―Look your fill, then. I daresay you won‘t find it any more

interesting now than you‘ve found it for the past three years.‖

THAT was far from the truth, Thomas reflected. While he‘d

never given much thought to Andrew‘s body in the past, he was

finding it fascinating now. The man‘s skin was pale, but not

colorless—more of a faint golden color, and so smooth as to

remind Thomas of satin. His shape was much different from

that of the women Thomas had seen, of course. But though it

was muscular, it was not comprised of harsh angles, as he

might have expected. Somehow Andrew‘s shoulders and chest

seemed defined by soft curves, and the tautly muscled

abdomen might be described as… sensuous. On either side of

his stomach, gentle s-shaped curves mirrored each other,

leading down into the blond hair below, slightly darker than

that on his head.

Really, by any artistic standard, Thomas thought, it was

quite lovely.

He couldn‘t resist reaching out his hand—not to touch

that intimate area between Andrew‘s thighs, but merely to slide

his fingertips along the soft ridges of his friend‘s abdomen.

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It was obvious that Andrew was beginning to find this

arousing. The blond cleared his throat and turned away.

―Really, Thomas, this is becoming embarrassing. May I have

my bath now?‖

Thomas took a deep breath, feeling as though he were

coming out of a state of drowsiness. ―Of course.‖

Andrew stepped into the hot water and lowered himself

slowly, to acclimate himself to the temperature. ―Have you

concluded that I‘m hideous?‖ he asked with a smile.

On the contrary, Thomas had concluded that he found

Andrew quite attractive. Disturbingly so, in fact. He went to sit

down before his own arousal became too apparent through the

thin linen of his undershirt.

―Not at all,‖ he said, trying to sound casual. ―You‘re quite

well put together, I‘d say.‖

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity—though

it had really only been a couple days—Andrew gave him one of

those genuine, sweet smiles that Thomas was so fond of,

blushing a bit at the same time. ―I suppose I should say ‗thank

you‘. But really, Thomas, you shouldn‘t dwell on this. It‘s not in

your nature to be attracted to men, and you shouldn‘t try to

force it, however much you might desire to understand it.‖

Wasn‘t it in his nature? Thomas was no longer absolutely

certain.

He picked up his tea and sipped at it, lost in thought while

Andrew washed himself. When his friend stood and toweled off,

he couldn‘t resist taking another look, out of the corner of his

eye. What was happening to him? Was Andrew corrupting him?

Not directly, of course—Andrew would never deliberately harm

him. But was being around him itself enough to cause Thomas

to have… unnatural desires?

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The idea seemed absurd, and he quickly dismissed it. He

refused to believe anything concerning Andrew could be

harmful to him. Andrew was the most important person in the

world to him.

―Do you intend to go bathe yourself, before going

downstairs?‖ Andrew asked. ―You‘re looking a bit disheveled.‖

―I‘ll bathe here, if you don‘t mind. There isn‘t time to have

fresh water brought to my room.‖

Andrew hesitated before stepping out of the tub to dry his

legs and feet. ―As you wish.‖

Thomas was conscious of Andrew deliberately
not
looking

at him as he stripped out of his undershirt and stepped into

the tub, and had to laugh. ―Oh, Andrew. You let me stare

directly at you a few moments ago. There‘s no need to pretend

you‘re looking away now.‖

Andrew looked grim as he fastened the buttons on his

trousers. ―It‘s different, and you know it.‖

―No, I don‘t see that it is. If I can look at you, you are

certainly welcome to look at me. ‗Look your fill‘, as you put it. I

don‘t mind in the least.‖

―Thomas, you‘re becoming needlessly vulgar, ever since

we‘ve begun discussing this subject. A gentleman does not

stare at another while bathing or dressing. I certainly hope you

don‘t start behaving this way around others at the club.‖

Thomas made a rude noise, but let the conversation drop

as he settled into the hot water and dowsed his hair in it.

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Chapter 17

THE attic in the west wing, where the nursery resided, was

enormous and, as Andrew had predicted, extremely dusty. But

this is where Nanny Katie had suggested they might find old

toys from the previous generations of Barringtons. The twins

had insisted on joining Thomas and Andrew in their quest, and

were having far too much fun rummaging through crates and

ancient wooden trunks, stirring up so much dust that Andrew

could barely breathe.

―What do little girls like?‖ Hew asked, holding up a

battered tin whistle.

Thomas shrugged. ―I have no idea.‖

Duncan had turned up an old drum with a torn drumhead.

He held it up to Andrew for consideration, but the blond shook

his head. ―I don‘t think Susan would be interested in joining a

marching band. And Katie would go into conniptions, listening

to her charge banging about all day long.‖

Duncan laughed. ―I‘d like to see that!‖

―You, sir,‖ Andrew said, smiling, ―are no gentlemen.‖

Hew made a rude noise. ―No, sir, he ain‘t.‖

―I‘m more of a gentleman than you‘ll ever be!‖ Duncan

retorted, looking as though he might be preparing to knock his

brother‘s teeth out.

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Andrew thought it wise to intervene. ―Perhaps you can

beat him soundly later. But for now we need to find a present

for Susan.‖

Thomas was rummaging through one of the large trunks

in a back corner, for the most part ignoring his companions.

Suddenly, he cried out.

The other three looked up in surprise.

―Yes?‖ Andrew inquired.

Thomas held up an old doll with a delicately carved,

painted wooden face, and real black hair. Andrew walked up to

him and examined its intricately sewn pale blue dress.

―She‘s about thirty years out of fashion,‖ he commented.

―She‘s beautiful,‖ Thomas said defensively. ―Don‘t you

think so?‖

Andrew brushed a cobweb out of the doll‘s hair. ―I think

Susan will love her.‖

THERE was nobody in the nursery when they went by, so

Thomas and Andrew went down to the dining room. There they

found the entire family—the duke, Duchess Barrington,

Edward, Susan, and Rebecca‘s family, as well—sitting down at

the large dining table to a sumptuous breakfast. Two of the

duke‘s hounds lay sleeping by the fireplace. Cook had prepared

an amazing array of rolls and pastries, with tea and coffee and

hot chocolate.

―Good morning, Thomas!‖ Duchess Barrington exclaimed

when they walked in. ―And Mr. Nash! Happy Christmas to both

of you! I do hope you slept well.‖

―Yes, Mother,‖ Thomas replied. ―Happy Christmas.‖

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―Uncle Thomas!‖ Susan shouted, leaping down from her

chair and racing across the room to throw her arms around his

legs.

―Happy Christmas, poppet,‖ Thomas said, picking her up

and kissing her on the cheek. ―We have a present for you.‖

―A present?‖ the little girl asked, her eyes sparkling.

―Yes, but not until after breakfast. So you‘d best go back

and finish eating.‖

He transferred her to Andrew for a kiss. Then his friend set

her down so she could return to the table.

―Isn‘t the snow lovely this morning?‖ Rebecca asked.

―Simply gorgeous,‖ Duchess Barrington enthused. ―It puts

me in mind of the sleigh rides we used to take across the

pastures, when I was a young girl.‖

―Oh! A sleigh ride! That would be so delightful.‖

Thomas had been saved a seat beside Rebecca, much to

his annoyance, but he did his best to appear pleased as he sat

down. The tea Rebecca poured for him smelled inviting, after

the pervasive smell of dust in the attic. ―We have a sleigh,‖ he

asked, ―Don‘t we, Edward?‖

His brother didn‘t look enthusiastic about the prospect of

a sleigh ride, but he said, ―I believe so. In the stables. I don‘t

think it‘s been used in years.‖

―We must send someone out to see about it,‖ Duchess

Barrington said firmly. ―A sleigh ride would be just the thing on

a morning like this.‖

Rebecca‘s mother looked disapproving. ―Not for me, thank

you. I prefer to remain warm by the fire on days like this.‖

―Of course,‖ Duchess Barrington said with a fluttering

laugh. ―I was merely suggesting it for the younger ones.‖

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―I think it would be lovely,‖ Rebecca persisted. ―You
will

join me, won‘t you, Thomas? Edward? And you too, Mr. Nash?‖

Edward looked extremely uncomfortable, and it was out of

some perverse desire to goad his brother that Thomas said, ―Do

come along, Edward. It will be tremendous fun. Susan would

love it.‖

―I really have a lot of work to do –―

―Nonsense,‖ Duchess Barrington interrupted. ―Nobody

works on Christmas. Do they, Henry?‖

The duke had largely been ignoring everyone as he

devoured a large plate of bacon and eggs, but he glanced at his

wife, then at his eldest son, before saying, ―I‘m sure you can

manage to be social for one day, Edward.‖

Edward looked annoyed, but declined to argue further.

AFTER breakfast, Thomas fetched the doll for Susan, telling her,

―This is from me and Uncle Andrew, and Hew and Duncan, as

well.‖

―She‘s beautiful!‖ Susan said, so excited she could hardly

stop bouncing.

―Say ‗thank you‘, Susan,‖ Katie reminded her.

―Thank you!‖

As Susan took her new doll with her up to the nursery,

Duchess Barrington took Thomas and Andrew aside and told

them, ―That was one of the dolls I had as a young girl. Your

grandfather brought her back from France. I haven‘t seen her

in… oh! It‘s been
ages
!‖

―I‘m sorry, Mother,‖ Thomas said, looking surprised, ―I

should have asked you if you knew who the doll belonged to.‖

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His mother waved a hand dismissively. ―That‘s quite all

right. It‘s wonderful to see her brought down from the attic. I

hope Susan loves her as much as I did.‖