The Courtship of Julian St. Albans (20 page)

“Julian,” said Alex, his voice
embarrassingly breathy. He’d just emerged from the bathroom wearing the stupid
gown and towelling off his hair. At least he’d been allowed one of the ones
that tied in front, so only his legs were sticking out and not his arse.

“Alex!” said Julian, grinning widely
as he came over and gave him a gentle hug and cheek-kiss.

“Is this allowed?” asked Alex with a
grin. Then he kissed Julian anyway, full on the mouth despite the two Guardians
pointedly ignoring them. They’d tease him later whether he got his kiss or not,
so he might as well indulge himself.

“Mm, I say it is,” said Julian,
snuggling up to Alex for a moment before standing back. “I should let you
sit, it’s your leg, right?”

“Right,” said Alex gratefully,
managing not to limp too much as he made his way over and into the bed,
covering up his skinny legs and incipient erection. “I’m on the mend,
though.”

“I brought a treat,” said Julian,
pointing to the pastry box and two steaming cups on the bed tray. A glance
showed that the Guardians had gotten their own treat from Julian, which fit
with the thoughtful nature he’d shown Alex so far.

Alex kissed Julian’s hand. “I’m lucky,
then, two treats today,” he said. He opened the box to find a pair of
fairy cakes and laughed, kissing Julian’s lips. “They’re perfect, thank
you. You’ll join me?”

“Of course,” said Julian, perching on
the edge of the bed and handing Alex his tea before picking up his own cup.
“To recovery,” said Julian, the toast holding an edge of seriousness
for both of them despite the frivolous nature.

“To finding a future,” said Alex,
tapping together their to-go cups before taking a sip. “Mmm,
perfect.”

“So, about our third
date,” said Julian teasingly.

“I can hardly take you out while I’m in
here, though I’m told I’ll be allowed out in a few more days,” replied
Alex. “I’ll be very dashing with my cane, but I still need time for a gift.”

“I suppose it is too early to demand the
gift of yourself,” said Julian, scooting a little closer, “but it
would be fun to unwrap you.”

Alex slipped an arm around him and stole
another, more lingering kiss. “I don’t think that counts as a gift, and
aren’t you meant to wait until at least the second round?”

Julian laughed and kissed him again, snuggling
up happily. “As if you think for a moment you won’t make it,” he said
warmly, sipping his tea.

“A little doubt is healthy,” said
Alex. He set down his tea and picked up one of the fairy cakes, taking a nice
big bite and managing somehow not to make a mess of himself doing it.
“Mmm, as is a little sugar.”

Julian picked up the other with a noise of
agreement, and for a few minutes they were quietly occupied with their treats,
though the Guardians took turns eating theirs so one of them was always paying
attention.

Alex very much appreciated
their attention.

He and Julian chatted and flirted a bit longer,
and then it was time for another bout of Healing and physical therapy, and he
had to send Julian off with a kiss.

“I hope you know I’m going to feel
terribly jealous when we do get to the second round and I have to think of all
those other men trying for a place in your bed,” murmured Alex.

Julian grinned. “Good,” he said,
stealing another kiss. “I’ll send you another letter by courier, is it all
right if I keep Horace for a bit longer?” Julian hesitated and then added,
shyly, “He feels like you.”

Alex kissed Julian very warmly indeed, as he’d
not often been told the feel of his magic was worth keeping around. “You
may, if he starts to seem listless just bring him by for a bit of energy, he’s
used to getting ambient magic from living with me.”

Julian looked delighted. “Thank you,”
he said, and they shared one more kiss before the nurse came back in looking
very impatient indeed.

“I’ll see you soon,” said Alex with a
sigh. He’d have the Healing in here, and then they’d all troop downstairs for
the physical therapy, nurse, Guardians and patient in a little parade.

Julian smiled and took himself away like a good
boy. “As soon as we can,” he said, then vanished out the door.

Alex sighed.

“So, not
just
investigating a murder, then?” said James, his voice rich
with amusement.

Alex decided on the mature, rational response,
and stuck his tongue out at James. Then the doctor came in and it was time for
a different sort of concentration, Alex combining his energy with the doctor’s
to Heal himself faster, more accurately, and with less wasted magic than the
doctor could have done on his own.

~ ~ ~

After several more days of Healing and physical
therapy, Alex’s thigh wound was completely closed and barely even left a scar,
and he was nearly as exhausted as when he woke up in the first place.

“Just a couple of weeks of physical therapy
to make sure everything’s working properly, and you’ll be right as rain,”
said Dr. Chesterfield cheerfully. “You’re an excellent patient, Alex, make
sure you get plenty of rest when you get home.”

“Thank you, Doctor, I will,” said
Alex, wishing for nothing more than his bed. That wasn’t to be, as Chesterfield
was replaced by Victor, who insisted that he would take Alex and the Guardians
home himself.

“I brought you something to make you less
cranky,” said Victor through the bathroom door; Alex had taken his
clothing in there for a moment of supposed privacy while he dressed.

“Is it
caffeinated?” asked Alex grumpily.

Victor laughed. “It’s
heirloom,” he said teasingly.

Alex sighed and kept dressing, realising he
wouldn’t get relief until he went home, and even then he’d have to find the
energy to re-do his bedroom wards. “That covers a lot of ground, and bad
taste,” he countered.

Victor was undeterred.
“Come out and see for yourself, then.”

Alex sighed, but when he emerged Victor handed
him a very valuable heirloom indeed — a proper wand-cane, which would ground
and stabilise his magic and help make up for the loss of mobility, in case he
needed to defend himself again. “All right,” said Alex, hefting the
cane, “This qualifies.”

“I’ve got your coat from the cleaners,
too, there’s a few things in one of the pockets they say you left behind,”
said Victor, pointing to where the coat lay wrapped in plastic on the bed.

“So which venerable ancestor owned this,
anyway?” asked Alex curiously. He knew there were other mages in the
family’s past, but no one really talked about that aspect of their family
history.

“Uncle Hamish. He was injured in the war,
and used the cane for the rest of his life.”

Alex used the cane to sit, looking over the
construction. The handle was chased silver, the patterns worn but still quite
visible, while the shaft was a dark wood finished to gleaming black, with a
steel striking tip where it would hit the ground. He’d have to remember not to
score anyone’s expensive floors with it, but otherwise, he was pleased.
“It’s a good piece of work, to have lasted this long, wasn’t he one of the
Victorian uncles?”

“I think so, Mother would know
better,” said Victor dismissively. “Are you about ready? The tailor
wouldn’t give me your good coat, they insisted on another fitting for your
ridiculously lanky frame,” he teased.

Alex chuckled. “I’m exhausted, Victor,
you’re not dragging me to the tailor today, it’s straight home and nowhere else
for me.” He put on his shoes, hearing the muted harmony of their familiar
spells as he tied the laces. The cane, when he used it to stand, was louder but
still harmonious, something that would feel natural for him to use. Alex sighed
and went to the little locker, gathering up his possessions and putting them in
all the appropriate pockets, then putting the extra things he’d gathered here
into the silk bag instead, his phone charger and books and whatnot. Soon enough
he had his coat on and was looking wistfully out the window at the grey wintry
sky.

“Ready?” asked Victor impatiently,
clearly ready for his own familial duties to be discharged.

“I guess… James,
Jacques?” Alex looked at the two Guardians.

“We’re ready,” said James with a soft
smile. “We might have to check in at the Temple once we’ve settled you in
at home, you’re warded, right?”

“Right,” said Alex, making another
mental note to fix the bedroom wards as soon as he had one iota of magical
energy to spare. He moved to the door without prompting, finding the cane fit
his height as well as his magic, and deciding then and there he wouldn’t bother
to return it once he was back to full mobility. He could always make it a
fashion statement.

They paraded their way out, Alex having refused
a wheelchair and the Guardians insisting on going first and last. Reliable
Jones was waiting by the curb for them, arguing with a parking enforcer.

“He really is here to pick up a
patient,” said Alex, pointing at the sign indicating the white zone was
for picking up and dropping off patients only. He leaned heavily on his cane and
tried to look pathetic.

“As long as he leaves,” said the
enforcer grumpily, wandering off while the Guardians inspected the vehicle,
then got everyone settled inside.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Alex,
once they were all seated, including Jones. “You didn’t actually get a
ticket, did you?”

“They’re used to patients taking a while
to get discharged,” said Jones, “She was just having a bad day.”

“My sympathies to you
both, then,” said Alex tiredly. “Home, Jones!”

At Victor’s confirmation, the car pulled out
and headed toward Alex’s flat. “Will you two need a ride back to the
Temple?” offered Victor, clearly keen to be seen as helpful.

Victor might actually just want to be helpful,
Alex’s better side reminded him, but Alex was too used to taking his siblings
with a grain of salt to buy it.

“That would be kind of you,” said
James. “It shouldn’t take us too long to clear Alex’s flat.”

“And then I plan to
sleep like the dead,” said Alex dryly.

“But not for two more
weeks,” said Victor, just as deadpan.

Alex chuckled. “No, no, just until
morning, when no doubt Jones will be there to escort me to my PT and then off
to the tinker and tailor and candlestick-maker, or whoever else I need to see
about the Courtship.”

“Those aren’t even from the same
rhyme,” said Victor grumpily, but he didn’t protest his brother’s
presumption, either, so Alex figured it was a win.

The rest of the ride was blessed silence,
punctuated by a few questions on the Courtship for which Alex had no answers.
He was woefully out of the loop, and he’d have to talk to Flora all over again
to get back up to speed, in amongst getting back on track with gifts and
clothes and all the endless shopping and planning.

He had half a mind to have Julian over for
takeaway curry at his place, only he’d no idea what else they’d do once the
meal was concluded.

And he’d still need another
bloody gift.

Alex let those thoughts go in favour of the
more practical as they arrived at his flat, everyone trooping inside only to
find there was no milk for tea. Victor volunteered Jones for a quick shopping
run, and Alex was feeling just pitiful enough at that point to accept and make
up a quick list.

“I can bin whatever’s spoiled here,”
said Jacques, while James prowled around the rest of the flat. “So long as
you sit there.”

Alex gratefully plopped in the kitchen chair
Jacques pointed out, shoes and coat left at the door but otherwise still
dressed and longing for the peace of his own bed. “That’s very kind of
you, a bit above and beyond.”

Jacques chuckled and shrugged. “It’s not
so bad, you’ve mostly got takeaway in their containers and bad milk, so it’s
not like I have to touch anything.” He found bin bags at Alex’s direction,
and started in. Fortunately, his assessment of the state of things was spot on,
and he had a bag of rubbish and a nearly-empty fridge in short order.

“Flat’s safe enough,” said James,
coming back into the kitchen. “Where’s the bins? I’ll take the rubbish out
and check the perimeter.”

“I’m absolutely sure that’s not normally
part of the service,” said Alex with a shy, grateful smile. He’d grown
rather fond of the two men in their days stuck in his hospital room together,
and so he appreciated the help all the more for the respect he’d developed for
their skills and education.

“You’d be surprised,” said Jacques.
“Lots of good opportunities for an assassin when the target’s doing
mundane stuff like taking out the rubbish.”

“Tell him about that one housewife,”
said James. He vanished with a box of bin liners and returned with all the
rubbish from around the house consolidated into one bag, then gathered up the
kitchen trash and spoiled food and headed back out, taking Alex’s spare keys
with him.

“Oh, she about drove us spare!”
Jacques didn’t sit, prowling around the room while he talked, clearly on the
alert. “The whole family was in danger, but it was like she had OCD or
something, always doing the dumbest things, cleaning windows and taking out the
rubbish. Finally we had to actually forbid her from doing chores when she
nearly got zapped washing pots in front of an open window.”