The Christmas Wager (17 page)

than Andrew. He was lost, fallen into the abyss Andrew had

warned him to stay far away from. But he was glad. He might

have gone through his entire life without knowing the pure

ecstatic joy he was now feeling in Andrew‘s embrace. He might

never have tasted these lips; felt Andrew‘s hot breath against

his face. He would have remained in Purgatory forever, never

seeing Heaven—not even for a moment.

And for this moment, he would gladly risk all the tortures

of Hell.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Andrew flew away

from him just as one of the servants entered Andrew‘s room. It

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was the same young man who had attended to Thomas in his

room the night before.

―Dinner will be served in a few minutes, sir.‖ The boy was

startled to see Thomas standing in the doorway. He executed

an awkward bow. ―Your Lordship.‖

Andrew looked flustered as he walked over to his bed,

where his dinner clothes were laid out. ―Yes, thank you.‖

―May I be of further assistance, sir? Your Lordship?‖

―No, thank you, Percy,‖ Thomas answered. ―We‘ll be down

soon.‖

Percy bowed again and left, closing the door softly behind

him.

―You really should finish dressing,‖ Andrew said without

looking at Thomas.

―Yes, I suppose.‖

Thomas hesitated, wanting to say more, though Andrew

had closed himself off again. The man was so immensely

frustrating at times. Would this be what loving him would be

like? One minute full of passion; the next, distant and

unreachable?

It surprised Thomas that the idea of being Andrew‘s lover

had come so easily to mind. But the moment he thought it, he

knew that it was what he wanted. He‘d never wanted anything

so much in his life.

―That was nice,‖ he finally said, awkwardly, feeling that the

words were vastly inaccurate. ―Very nice.‖

Andrew

touched

his

own

lips

briefly,

almost

absentmindedly, but still refused to look up.
Damn him
. ―Yes. I

thought so. I suppose I‘m glad you didn‘t find it repulsive.‖

Angered now, Thomas strode across the room and grabbed

the blond by both shoulders, whirling him around. ―No,

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damnation! I didn‘t find it repulsive. I‘ve never found anything

about you repulsive. I think you‘re the most beautiful thing I‘ve

ever seen. I could kiss you for the rest of my life.‖

Andrew was still resisting him, his hands pressed against

Thomas‘s chest to keep him from getting too close. ―Thomas—‖

―I love you, you fool! Why can‘t you accept that?‖

Andrew shoved him hard, forcing him to break away. The

blond‘s angelic features were contorted with anger. ―Stop it,

Thomas! You forget how well I know you—how many times I‘ve

heard you profess your undying love for whichever silly young

chit graced your bed the night before.‖

Thomas couldn‘t deny it. His passionate nature had

frequently led him to wax poetic about his current infatuations.

Never, thank God, to the women themselves, but Andrew had

heard it more times than Thomas could remember.

―It‘s different with you, Andrew,‖ he said, his words

sounding trite, even to himself.

―Go get dressed, Thomas. They‘re waiting for us

downstairs.‖

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Chapter 21

DINNER was an ordeal for Andrew. He was seated across from

Thomas, which meant that every time he glanced up, he was

either catching the Thomas‘s eye, and that damnable smirk the

man kept giving him, or he was having to endure Rebecca

flirting with Thomas.

This latter seemed particularly odd, given what he knew

about Rebecca‘s lack of interest in the lord. But there was no

mistaking the fact that she
was
flirting with him. Edward,

seated near the head of the table, looked sullen, and Andrew

finally realized what was happening: Rebecca was trying to

make him jealous.

And she was succeeding admirably.

Did this mean she was still in love with Edward? Andrew

suspected that the answer was ―yes,‖ but clearly she hadn‘t

forgiven the idiot yet. He doubted that Edward had even had

enough sense to try to apologize. Not that that would be

enough. But it would be a start.

Andrew tried to concentrate on the wonderful meal Cook

had prepared—roast pheasant and sausage stuffing, and

Yorkshire pudding, and hot rolls dripping with butter, all

washed down with a delicately sweet red wine. But he couldn‘t

get the kiss out of his mind. The taste and smell of Thomas still

lingered, no matter how much he ate or drank, more heady and

intoxicating than any wine. Andrew could still feel the

roughness of Thomas‘s cheek against his own.

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How excruciatingly beautiful and agonizing it had been

when Thomas told him, ―I love you.‖ For a moment, he‘d almost

allowed himself to believe it. But it was a cruel phantasm.

Nothing more. Thomas was a good soul, and no doubt he

honestly believed he was in love. But Thomas was nothing if

not mercurial. Some young chit would catch his eye again, and

he would forget he‘d ever been foolish enough to entertain the

thought of loving Andrew.

It was tempting, to be sure, to give in. To at long last have

the chance to explore that beautiful body, to take possession of

it, even for just one night, would be the closest thing to Heaven

Andrew could imagine ever experiencing in his lifetime. But the

aftermath would be all the more hellish for it. Not only would it

be excruciating when Thomas turned from him, but the lord

might then find that he could no longer bear to be near Andrew

at all.

He accepted me as I am, and didn’t run away
, Andrew

reminded himself.
I should be content with that, and try to

preserve the friendship we have.

But that wouldn‘t be easy.

He realized that something was rubbing against his calf. It

took a moment to identify that it was Thomas‘s foot. The

bastard was flirting with him—in front of the entire family!

THE scowl on Andrew‘s face was precious, and Thomas almost

choked on his food, trying to disguise a laugh. He withdrew his

foot, his impish nature satisfied for the time being. But he had

no intention of giving in to Andrew‘s refusals. Andrew had

made the first move, damn it! He wanted Thomas. And now

that he‘d had time to get used to the idea, Thomas wanted
him
.

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Why did the stubborn fool have to make everything so bloody

difficult?

To be truthful, Thomas could understand why his friend

might not believe his declaration of love, considering Thomas‘s

past romantic follies. Thomas knew that what he felt for

Andrew was as different from those minor infatuations as

Barrington Hall was from a farmer‘s hovel. He had loved

Andrew for years, without realizing how deep his feelings ran.

How could he have known? It hadn‘t been conceivable to him

until Andrew‘s confession. But now that he was aware of it, it

felt as solid and real to him as the stone floor under his feet.

This was no passing infatuation. Andrew was a part of him;

and he was a part of Andrew.

Somehow he would have to prove himself to Andrew. How,

he didn‘t know. But he would do whatever he had to.

In the meantime, there was the problem of Edward and

Rebecca. Miss Hudson was rather obviously overdoing the

flirtation with him to spite his brother, and Edward was just as

obviously falling for it—the poor, stupid ox. But Thomas was

growing weary of being a participant in their little game. Not to

mention the fact that his father was looking far too smug, as he

watched what he believed to be Rebecca‘s attempts to ensnare

Thomas.

Something would have to be done. But again, he was at a

loss as to what.

―I‘ve been considering returning to London,‖ Andrew

suddenly announced, to nobody in particular. ―Perhaps

tomorrow morning.‖

Thomas looked at him sharply. ―What?‖

Andrew met his gaze briefly, a defiant look in his eyes,

before looking down again at his dinner. ―I‘m very grateful to

you all for allowing me to spend the holiday here at Barrington,

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but I‘m afraid I have some pressing business matters that I

should be getting back to as soon as I‘m able.‖

Oh, no you don’t
, Thomas thought, irritated at this new

development.
You’re not running off until we’ve hashed this out.

He opened his mouth to say something, but his mother

came to his rescue. ―Oh, dear. I‘m afraid that‘s unlikely, Mr.

Nash. At least for the next day or two. The roads are quite

impassable, according to the servants.‖

―Perhaps I could get a ride in the sleigh?‖ Andrew asked,

perturbed. ―Just to the nearest town? I might be able to hire a

carriage there.‖

The duke shook his head. ―The nearest town, beyond

Barrington, is Tonbridge. And until it stops snowing, you won‘t

find a carriage able to take you to London from there. And you

won‘t find decent lodging there, either.‖ Thomas knew that his

father considered all but the finest inns to be barbaric in their

accommodations. The man added contemptuously, ―I won‘t

hear of one of my guests spending the night in a local tavern.‖

Andrew glared at Thomas for a moment, as if this were

somehow his fault.

―No doubt,‖ Thomas said, smiling sweetly at him, ―your

business can wait another couple days.‖

―I suppose it must.‖

Rebecca laughed gently. ―Surely we can manage to

entertain you for a while longer, Mr. Nash.‖

―Truthfully, I cannot imagine more entertaining company,

Miss Hudson,‖ Andrew replied with a courteous nod of the

head.

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AFTER dinner, the younger Barringtons and Rebecca gathered

in the sitting room for a game of Snap Dragon. Susan insisted

that Hew and Duncan be invited, which raised eyebrows among

the older generation—it seemed to Andrew that Simcox was

particularly put out, though the butler kept his opinion to

himself. But Edward humored his daughter and sent for the

twins.

Rebecca announced she had no intention of sticking her

hand into the flames and catching her dress sleeve on fire. She

simply settled herself on the settee to watch. This gave Susan

pause, as she‘d never played the game before, but Hew

guffawed and told her, ―If you catch on fire, Miss Susan, we‘ll

rush you out and toss you in a snow bank. Then you can make

snow angels.‖

The little girl giggled and forgot her concerns for the

moment. But when Simcox brought in the plate of rum-soaked

raisins and prunes, and lit it on fire, her eyes went wide.

―Hurry, Miss Susan!‖ Duncan said, as he and Hew fought

to grab some of the flaming raisins, alongside Edward, Thomas,

and Andrew. ―You have to grab one before the fire goes out!‖

Susan frowned as she regarded the flaming dried fruit,

looking for a moment when the flames might seem to lessen a

bit. At last, she darted her tiny hand out and retrieved a small

plum. But it was still on fire when she lifted it up, and she

squeaked, letting it fall. Fortunately, the flame went out quickly,

as it bounced off the edge of the table and onto the floor.

Edward made a grab for it, but there was no more damage to

the fine Persian carpet than a tiny wet spot.

―Thank goodness that didn‘t burn,‖ the earl said, laughing.

―Mother would have fainted dead away.‖

―Perhaps you should move the game to the hearth,‖

Rebecca suggested.

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Hew made a rude noise at the suggestion, then quickly

remembered his place. ―Begging your pardon, m‘lady. I meant

no disrespect.‖

He looked a bit panic-stricken, but Rebecca smiled at him

graciously. ―That‘s quite all right, Hew.‖

―Watch your manners, young man,‖ Edward said

pompously, ―or I shall have to call you out to defend Miss