The Valet and the Stable Groom: M/M Regency Romance (21 page)

“Clement.”

Startled by Hugo’s voice, Clement spun so quickly that he nearly tumbled into one of the decorative pools. “Hugo.”

The groomsman hesitated at the edge of the ring of fairy lights, limned in gold by their soft light. It gilded his brown hair and plain features, softening them into a princely charm.

“I wasn’t certain if you would come,” Clement admitted.

“Come to…” Hugo shook his head, looking around at the arrangement of food and candles in confusion. “What is all this?”

Clement opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He swallowed. “Dinner.”

“Dinner,” Hugo repeated, brow furled. “For… for whom?”

“For you. If it pleases you. I wanted to do this for you.”

Hugo’s expression shifted. Confusion, mirth, pleasure and doubt mingled on his face, but he did take a step forward into the tiled ring. “This is too grand for me.”

“Too grand for every day, perhaps,” Clement agreed, drawing out one of the chairs for him. “But perhaps on occasions, if it would please you. And, for ordinary days, if you will consider giving me another chance, I would like to finally take you up on your invitation to dinner. I pray you, sit.”

Hugo took another step forward. He regarded Clement warily. “Will you really come to dinner? Can I believe that it will be more than once every two months?”

“Have you heard I’m no longer to be Hildebert’s valet?”

Surprise washed over Hugo’s face. “No. I hadn’t.”

“Sit. Please.”

Hugo sat.

“I’ve been given the title of under-butler,” Clement explained, pouring them each a glass of wine before taking his seat across from Hugo. “There are still quite a few things that are uncertain and unsettled, but I am already devoted to the household, not to Hildebert. He’s better settled now that he’s started to take an interest in the animals of the estate, and I hope yet to draw his attention likewise to the grounds. I’ll still be busy, but I… I am resolved. If you still desire my friendship, it is yours.”

Hugo took his wine, clasping the delicate goblet carefully between his hands. “And more than friendship?”

“And… and more than friendship,” Clement confirmed, nervous but deeply hopeful. “If you’ll have me. Your good opinion is important to me, Hugo. I will do everything in my power to maintain it. I may not be able to make time for you every day, but I shall do so at least thrice a week. And perhaps, if you are not too busy likewise, we will synchronise at least once a week.”

“I could accept that.” Smiling, Hugo sipped at his wine, eyes widening at the taste of it. “This is … very good wine.”

“I hope that the food will be very good, likewise. Jane, Letty, and Mrs. Ledford all went to some lengths to help me arrange this.”

“They… know?”

Ducking his head, Clement took a sip of his own wine. “To varying extents. If nothing else, they know that we have a very warm friendship, which I had damaged through neglect, and which I desired to restore.”

Hugo’s smile warmed and widened back to the level of affection and good humour which Clement had remembered of him. “Tell me all about this change to under-butler and the new valet. I am searingly curious as to how all of this came about.”

Helping himself to some of the food, Clement told him everything that had come to pass, from his frustrations with Midgley to Jane’s newfound interest in the estate management, and even the offer of the stewardship of the estate. Hugo listened with attentive interest, and the conversation wandered from there to the cattle, and the gardens, and looped twice around to the progress of the hedges, which they judged to be slow.

Clement hardly noticed the passage of time until one of the candles guttered. The ring of candles was burning low and the evening had grown late.

“Shall we to bed?” Hugo asked, rising to his feet.

There was a basket set beneath the table, and the two of them stacked the dishes tidily away into the basket. They bundled the last few tarts and pies into a napkin, and left the basket beneath the table, as Letty had promised to come and fetch it early in the morning.

When that was done, Clement took Hugo’s hand, and the two of them walked together through the conservatory in the direction of the stables.

“I should have brought the taper instead of blowing it out,” Clement said, as the leafy darkness of the conservatory constricted around them.

“We shall manage,” Hugo said. “It is not so far, and this way…” Holding open the conservatory door, Hugo drew Clement through it and then lifted his chin toward the heavens. “We can admire the stars.”

Clement smiled wider than he had thought possible, tilting his head back to see the silvery swathe of the milky way across the dark sky. “The heavens have sent us a clear night.”

“That was thoughtful of them.”

Laughing, Clement tugged him close, winding his arms around Hugo’s waist. Hugo’s body was warm and solid against his own, and the sensation of simply embracing someone like this, sweet and unhurried, with a deep intimacy, was entirely new to him. Hugo’s breath came in soft, slightly quick puffs against his lips.

Clement tilted his head and secured Hugo’s mouth in a kiss.

He tasted sweet, of fruit tarts and mincemeat pies. His arms wrapped around Clement’s shoulders as they kissed.

In harmony, the two of them shifted, rejoined hands, and continued along their way. Hugo led him unerringly across the dark lawn and up the stairs to his rooms above the stables.

It was cosy in the little room, and dark. Clement could only see the outline of Hugo in the darkness, but he could feel Hugo’s warm hands on his waist, and Hugo’s hair tickling at his cheek as Hugo leaned in to trail kisses along his throat.

Clement relaxed into it, allowing his hands to come up to Hugo’s waistcoat, unfastening each button. One of them was loose, and his fingers lingered upon it, wanting to remember to secure it later. Hugo’s mouth found the curve of his ear, nipping at it, and Clement laughed in surprise, drawing away and catching Hugo’s lips for a kiss instead.

Beneath the waistcoat, he could feel the warmth of Hugo’s body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Clement tugged at the shirt until it came loose from his breeches and he could slide his hands underneath, finding the warm, smooth skin of Hugo’s belly and sides.

Hugo made swift work of the buttons of Clement’s waistcoat, pushing coat and waistcoat over his shoulders.

Catching his coat as it fell, Clement groped in the dark to find a chair that he could hang the coat upon to preserve it from wrinkles. He folded his waistcoat upon the chair’s cushion, and then sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.

“May I?” Hugo’s hand found Clement's ankle in the darkness, putting his weight into drawing the tightly-fitted boot from his leg. He set it aside, and then repeated the process with its fellow.

In stocking feet, Clement sat upon the edge of the bed, listening to the quickness of his own breath as Hugo knelt before him.

Carefully, almost reverent, Hugo’s palms slid up Clement’s thighs, guiding them apart so that Hugo could shift in closer, his chest between Clement’s thighs.

Clement reached for him, curling his hands around Hugo’s jaw and tilting his face for another kiss.

“Hugo,” he murmured, against Hugo’s lips, as they parted.

He could feel the way Hugo’s lips stretched beneath his own in what was probably a smile. “Clement.”

“I feel intoxicated by you. Addicted. Allured.”

“Does this mean I shall be seeing more of you?”

“Yes. I vow it. I will not allow anything to come between us.”

Hugo rumbled with approval, surging upward to claim Clement’s mouth. They shared kiss after kiss, heated and lingering, as Hugo’s hands fumbled at the buttons fastening the front fall of Clement’s breeches.

“Hugo,” Clement murmured, uncertain and awed.

“My Clement,” Hugo replied to him. He nudged at Clement’s hips and then drew away.

Clement stood, stepping out of his breeches and setting them atop his waistcoat. He set his stockings aside likewise, left in nothing but his shirt and small clothes, and then he reached for Hugo’s, careful and shy as he unfastened Hugo’s breeches and let them drop.

Exposed and vulnerable in the warm darkness of the bedchamber, Clement stepped close, pressing his body against Hugo’s and drawing his lover close as they sank together onto the bed.

T
he morning dawned
misty and cool, with reddish sunlight filtering through the gauzy clouds to cap the trees with copper. Low rolls of fog loitered near the stew pond and around the skirts of the trees. The world felt fresh and crisp with dew, and Clement smiled to himself as he made his way across the gardens toward the main house.

Hildebert would be asleep for an hour yet, but the servants' kitchen was stirring. Clement made a pot of tea and helped himself to some bread and sausages, lingering in the kitchen as he broke his fast.

Within a few minutes, Mr. Midgley appeared, and paused mid-step at the sight of Clement. He scowled and resumed his course through the kitchen, fetching himself a small pot of tea and then returning to his chambers with a heavier tread than was his habit.

Clement tore his remaining piece of bread in half, pushed it idly around his plate, and then began tearing the bread into tinier pieces of bread. It was not until he had formed a tiny mountain of bread scraps that he became consciously aware of the activity. Pushing his plate away, he stood and followed after Mr. Midgley.

The butler’s door was cracked, so Clement needed only to tap gently at the doorframe to announce himself.

Mr. Midgley’s head lifted in response. His entire body tensed, and his distrustful scowl returned.

“I would earnestly desire to speak with you, Mr. Midgley,” Clement said, letting himself into the room and shutting the door behind. “I shall endeavour not to take much of your time.”

Mr. Midgley’s eyes narrowed. He made no response.

There was no chair available, nor had Mr. Midgley offered that he might sit. Clement hovered near the door in order to impose his presence as little as possible. “I fear that we have been at odds almost since we arrived, Mr. Midgley, a situation which has only worsened with the passage of time, and I would like to apologise sincerely for my part in creating that situation.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Mr. Midgley’s face, after which his scowl of suspicion only deepened.

“I have never thought to ask, Mr. Midgley: what is it that you desire?”

Mr. Midgley drew back, looking to either side as though the answer to this encounter might be written in the air. “What do I desire?”

“I do mean—are your ambitions to be a butler to a very minor lord in a country manor? If this situation between us is resolved, would you be happy in your position?”

The suspicion lightened into a state of pure befuddlement. Mr. Midgley cast his gaze around the room again and again, entirely at a loss. “My ambitions!” he repeated.

Clement leaned back against the door, waiting for Mr. Midgley to discover some response.

At length, Mr. Midgley’s befuddlement resolved back into suspicion. “What concern is it of yours?”

“My concern is to resolve this tension between us, such as damages our mutual execution of our duties. As you know, I have some influence with the lord and lady of the house. Anything less than my own dismissal, Mr. Midgley. If it would provide you contentment in your duties, I will secure it for you.”

Mr. Midgley continued to peer at him. “This is some sort of trap.”

“And if it were not? If you want a position as a butler in a better house, Mrs. Devereux will provide you with a glowing reference. If you want a position in London, we shall find one for you.”

“I had a position in London,” Mr. Midgley said, voice edged with bitterness as though it was Clement’s fault that he had been taken from this position. “I fear it has been filled.”

“And yet,” Clement said, drawing out the words as he thought over what might be done. “I am sure that whoever has taken over your position does not carry out your duties with the same competence and experience as you, who had the role for years.”

There was a spark of interest in Mr. Midgley’s eyes, though it was concealed behind his suspicion.

“And if you were to return to London, there would be a position of under-butler available here,” Clement continued. “I wonder if your replacement might be willing to consider country life.”

The spark of interest increased to a sparkle, though the scowl didn’t lighten. “An absurd hypothetical.”

“I’ll speak to Mrs. Devereux about it at once,” Clement said, and showed himself out.

“
L
etty
,” Clement said, seeking her out once he’d completed his day’s tasks.

He found her in the library, by one of the windows, gazing out at the setting sun with a sleepy thoughtfulness.

“Mm,” she responded, glancing over with a smile. “There you are, Clement.”

“What, and are you napping?”

“Dreaming. Do you suppose that’s the same thing, in a way?”

Clement came to sit on the windowsill by her side, watching how the sunlight crept backward over the lawn and up the trunks of the trees. “Not if you are not asleep.”

“I have had many very restful naps without a wink of sleep,” Letty insisted.

“He is going, you know.”

“Whom?”

“Mr. Midgley.”

Fully awake in a moment, Letty sat up. “Mr. Midgley!”

“Jane intends to write to Lady Devereux. She will secure Mr. Midgley his old place in London, and perhaps in return we shall have the under-butler who was found to replace him.”

“As butler?”

“No, certainly not. As under-butler.”

“You will be butler, then. Are you satisfied?”

Clement smiled, thinking of Hugo first, and then upon all the projects and arrangements he had begun in the household. He would have the title of butler, and the duties of steward besides. The new valet should arrive within a week or two to take over the care of Hildebert’s person and wardrobe, and in a month or two they should have their new under-butler from London. All the household would be under Clement’s counsel or command, and he had every hope that their household should prosper. “I am.”

“I am glad for it.”

“And you, Letty? Are you satisfied?”

Letty laughed, stretching her arms up over her head. “Me? I happen to quite like the countryside, you know.”

“I do know it. And yet I do not know if you have ever had any grander ambitions. Are you satisfied being a lady’s maid at a sleepy country estate?”

Smiling like a cat in cream, Letty nodded. “I am. My life revolves around Jane, Clement. She is my dearest friend. Wherever she goes, I will follow. I rather like that her life has brought her here. Nothing would suit me better than to stay by her side all the days of my life, particularly if it is in a place as lovely as this.”

Clement let himself relax into the cushions of the window seat, watching the last flicker of sunlight blink out on the tops of the trees. “Then I am glad, very glad, for that.”

“Will you grow tired of being butler at a country estate?”

“I don’t know,” Clement confessed. “Perhaps. I do still miss the grand parties and affairs of London. But not anytime soon. Not until the household is settled and prosperous, and not as long as I have Hugo.”

Her smile widened. “I noted that you came this morning from the direction of the stables.”

“I did.”

“Then I suppose you are very satisfied.”

“I am very content. Being with Hugo makes me feel… as warm and at peace as sitting beside a warm fire, with no responsibilities awaiting.”

Letty giggled. “I think you are in love.”

Ducking his head, Clement fidgeted with the hem of his waistband. “Perhaps I may be. Things between us are yet new-formed, but perhaps… perhaps we will regard each other very warmly for years yet to come. I would like it if that were to be true.”

“Why, then,” Letty said, nudging him with her toe, “are you here wasting your breath with me instead of romancing your new beloved?”

“On account that I will have your promise to cause no more trouble for Mr. Midgley. He will depart, and we shall wish him the best of his life, probably to be carried out as an eternal under-butler for Lord Devereux.”

Letty lifted an imaginary glass in toast. “To Mr. Midgley’s departure.”

Despite himself, Clement grinned. “Your promise?”

“Aye, Clement, you have my word. No more trouble for Mr. Midgley.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

“Though if Ermengarde, Earl of the Entry Foyer should happen to annoy Mr. Midgley through nothing particularly
directed
at Mr. Midgley…”

“Do at least
strive
to keep from irritating Mr. Midgley for the next month, Letty, please.”

“Is he going to strive to keep from irritating me?”

“He has agreed, very generously so, to stay on in the function of under-butler for the next two weeks, until the new valet is come, and then he shall away to London. So if you are causing any trouble for the household’s butler, it shall be my wrath you shall invoke.”

“Oh, heavens preserve us,” Letty sighed, with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Now there shall never be an end to your scolding.”

“Nor any safe place in this household to avoid it,” Clement said, smiling at the way Letty groaned.

I
t was fully
dark when Clement lit a lantern and made his way across the grounds, but there was a light on in the upper storey of the stables, and he knew that Hugo would be awake yet, and waiting.

“Hugo,” he called ahead of himself, as he climbed the steps to Hugo’s rooms.

“Here.”

There was a glow from the end of the hall, as usual, with a fire lit and a stew of vegetables bubbling over the fire. “That smells exquisite.”

Hugo rose to his feet, his smile as warm as Clement had ever seen it, and he drew Clement at once into his arms to kiss him. “Are you here to stay the night again?”

“Did I not promise it?”

“You did.”

“And yet I have gained a rather painful reputation for not keeping my promises to you. Yes, I know it. I am yours for the evening, Hugo, and nothing short of fire or flood shall draw me from your arms.”

“What about a particularly dire wardrobe calamity?”

“Hildebert is sleeping,” Clement said, pressing a last sweet kiss to Hugo’s lips and then drawing away to go and stir the stew. “I pray that even he cannot find a way to create a dire wardrobe calamity in his sleep.”

“What if Midgley locks himself in the wine cellar?”

“Then I hope he shall make himself comfortable until morning.”

Hugo laughed, fetching a pair of bowls and holding one steady for Clement to ladle full of stew. “What if Mrs. Ledford cannot find a set of linens?”

“She shall simply have to use a different set for any guests she sees fit to entertain at this midnight hour.”

“Then you are, quite sincerely, all mine for the evening?”

“I am.”

Hugo set the bowls on the table, pulling Clement close and smiling playfully at him. “Then I have only one remaining concern.”

“Confess it to me,” Clement said, relaxing into the circle of Hugo’s arms, “and I shall resolve it.”

“I fear that one evening could never be enough, for all that I do desire to do with you.”

“I do understand the trouble,” Clement said, smiling so widely that he thought his heart would overflow with joy. “Then I shall promise you all of my evenings, for every day, every week, every month, and every year to come, until you are satisfied of me and release me from your company.”

“Perhaps,” Hugo said, close against Clement’s lips, “I shall never be satisfied of you.”

“Then I shall be yours,” Clement promised, “until the end of time.”

Hugo sealed the agreement with a kiss.