The Gilded Scarab (30 page)

Which hospitable sentiment put me firmly in my place. I hadn’t noticed this tendency in Hugh for homemaking while we were in the service, but I supposed it had been the lack of scope on the
Ark Royal
that had curbed his ambition there. Here, where he had freer rein, he moved seamlessly back into his old role of managing me and making my life easier.

Well, it took the strain off me having to do it for myself. I didn’t really object.

M
Y
FRIENDSHIP
with Ned grew steadily.

He came to Lancaster’s Luck every other day, usually in the slack period between the rushes at breakfast and luncheon. I invested in a reserved sticker for the table he usually used—the coffeehouse was busy enough to merit it—and fell into the easy habit of joining him for a half hour or so. It didn’t mean anything. It was just friendly.

It was the highlight of my day.

I was a little bewildered by what was going on. We were friends, no doubt about that, but Ned showed no sign of wanting to repeat the delights of Margrethe’s. He never mentioned that night, never hinted at it. He was friendly, approachable, liked to talk and laugh and chat. He seemed easy and content in my company. He wasn’t reserved or constrained. He had no trouble with a casual physical touch, for instance, and would put a hand on my shoulder or my arm as we talked.

I could feel the heat for an hour afterward.

And dammit, I wanted more. I wanted him. I really wanted him.

So, why didn’t I do something about it?

Because he was Gallowglass, and I was the unregarded, unimportant second son of a cadet branch of a Minor House. He was out of my class. Ned had to make the first move, not me. I offered him friendship, and if there was anything else on offer, it had to be unspoken, said with the eyes and touches of the hand. If Ned chose never to look below the surface… well, I didn’t think I could forcibly dunk his head under the water to make him notice me. I had to wait for it. I obviously needed help, some sort of catalyst, like the way aether catalyzes the reaction inside a petroleum distillate chamber.

Hopefully not as explosive.

Much to my surprise, Daniel Meredith was the one who precipitated the next step forward in the friendship… the potential amour… the whatever-it-was that may or may not have been going on between Ned Winter and me. It’s clear, though, that advancing anything was absolutely not what Daniel intended to do. He would scorn to be the catalyst for someone else’s friendships.

Ned had been back for six weeks, and I had seen no sign of Daniel. I had come to the conclusion he was being sensible and avoiding situations where he was likely to see Ned and I together. I was, of course, wrong. I had underestimated Daniel’s penchant for emulating the toad under the harrow.

They came in together one morning, about two weeks after Hugh joined me. It was a Thursday, one of Ned’s teaching days at University College. It was my fault. I didn’t see Daniel at first. If I’d noticed he was there, I wouldn’t have done it. I was on the watch of course, but I was on the watch for Ned. As soon as I saw Ned in the doorway, I went to greet him. Well, to be honest, I sort of bounced at him. I was enthusiastic. I had another new coffee for him to try, and truly, I didn’t see Daniel there.

“Ned! I hoped you’d come today, and thank heavens you’re here. Try this. I’m not entirely convinced by it, and I need a second, more academic opinion. It probably needs observation and incisive analysis, and some cutting remarks thrown at it in your own inimitable style.” I was smiling in welcome, had one hand on his shoulder, and held out the tasting cup with the other. I was, I admit, close to him. To any unprejudiced observer, it would be clear that we were easy with each other.

I became aware of a glowering presence by Ned’s side, but I was so used to Hawkins, and so used to ignoring him, that it took me a moment to register that it wasn’t him. It was Daniel. And what’s more, a Daniel who’d seen me open and friendly and—there’s no putting any other construction on this—physically at ease and touching Ned. It was a Daniel who was white-faced, thin-lipped, and steaming as hard as an aeroship’s emissarium.

I realized it was him just as Ned spoke. “Good Lord, Rafe! What is that?”

“A spiced double-shot dry mocha with a vanilla syrup undertone. What do you think of it?” I caught and held Daniel’s gaze. He looked like a wounded deer, all big eyes and parted lips to convey his anguish.

Ned laughed. “I think you grab whatever is on hand to mix into your coffee. And I think you like living dangerously.”

“I was famous for it. I was the most famous living-dangerously aeronaut in the history of the Corps, and now I’m reduced to adding spices to my coffee to try and get my pulse racing.” The bull presented its horns for grasping, and I proved the point about how much I liked risks. “Hello, Daniel. It’s been a little while since I last saw you.”

Daniel took a step nearer to Ned and hooked an arm through his, moving closer and pressing up against him. He opened his narrow-lipped, steel letterbox of a mouth a fraction. “Rafe.”

“It’s good to see you, Daniel. You’re looking very well.”

“Whereas you look tired. And rather drawn.” He sniffed and nodded after delivering this low blow, glancing around the coffeehouse. His nostrils flared and whitened, as if he were smelling something unpleasant. He raised an eyebrow. “At least it’s cleaner in here.”

I never was very good at walking away from a dare or a challenge, not since I was at Eton. I moved in close and laid one hand on Daniel’s shoulder, the other on Ned’s. Ned looked surprised, his eyes widening, and then he looked resigned and faintly apologetic, his mouth making the tiny twitch that wasn’t quite a smile.

I smiled at Ned to share the joke and establish common ground; it was a deliberate smile, one that suggested a friendly intimacy, one that Daniel couldn’t mistake. More than that, one that Daniel didn’t share.

“It’s really good to see you both. Ned, you know how I rely on your opinion on the new blends.” A smile, a few photic degrees of luminescence cooler for Daniel. Quite a few degrees cooler. “And you, here at last, Daniel! I quite thought you’d given up on the coffeehouse as your trysting place of choice.”

Daniel looked from the hand on his own shoulder to that on Ned’s. He flushed red.

Ned gave me a little eye roll, but whether aimed at me or Daniel wasn’t entirely clear to me.

Sam Hawkins, however, gave me a thin smirk of a smile. Well, mark that one on the almanac. I think it was the first spontaneous smile I ever got from the First Heir’s First Servant.

Ned may have seen it too, because he rolled his eyes again, harder, and excused himself, escaping to the water closet. Sam of course went to stand guard outside the door. He winked as he went. That was odd, Sam Hawkins winking at me. I hadn’t thought I might have an ally there, where I least expected to find one.

“Come and sit at Ned’s table, Daniel.”

I ignored his sharp “What do you mean, ‘Ned’s table’?” and herded him to Ned’s usual place.

“What do you think of the changes I’ve made?”

“I don’t care about them. You’re damned friendly with Ned!”

“Does it bother you that Ned is friends with me?”

Daniel was white to the lips. “I expect you to give me the consideration due from one gentleman to another, Rafe, and respect my friendship with him!”

“But of course! Why would you think I wouldn’t respect it, whatever it may be? Indeed, I hope our common regard for him, the friendships we share with him, will bring us all closer together. Don’t you?”

Daniel flung himself into a chair. From the way his fingers tapped on the table in savage displeasure, I don’t think he did share that particular hope. Not that I was terribly sincere. I really couldn’t see Daniel, Ned, and I in some sort of fraternal friendship ring.

I leaned over him. “Daniel, I am sorry that the fact I am friendly with Ned Winter upsets you, but the friendship is a reality. Please let’s not quarrel about it now.”

“I suppose you expect me to overlook what happened when we came in?”

“I think that would be a very good idea. I don’t believe Ned would appreciate a scene.”

He froze. “Do you claim to know him that well?”

“Well enough.”

Daniel’s gaze met mine. He nodded slightly, his mouth relaxing into a thin cruel smile. “I see. Unrequited, Rafe? Quite a new experience for you, I’m sure.” He leaned forward and said, savagely, “It will never happen. My word on it.”

I managed a smile, despite the hollow feeling behind my breastbone where something ached and complained. A deep smile, a knowing smile, a smile that had him sitting back, frowning, his mouth dropping open. “I’m not here to live down to your expectations, Daniel. Nor is Ned. You own neither of us.”

Ned chose that moment to return, slapping my shoulder as he went to a seat opposite Daniel. So I smiled again at Daniel, then more luminously at Ned.

“So,” I said, “two coffees of the new blend, then? On the house, since you’re testing it for me. Do either of you want chocolate sprinkles?”

I
WAS
sorry, later.

It wasn’t well done of me. All the while Ned and Daniel were there, Daniel talked in a muted monologue. He looked daggers at me about once a minute. Ned was obviously as embarrassed as hell. I shouldn’t have put him in that position.

Worse still, I didn’t get to spend my usual half hour with him. That was Daniel’s fault, for being so unreasonable. No. It was Daniel’s fault for being there. It was damned annoying. They left after they had their coffee, and all I got for the day was an apologetic glance from Ned as he was hauled bodily out the door.

I had a slow, lackluster day. By early evening Hugh appeared to have had enough and encouraged me to go next door to see Will. Truth be told, he begged me to go next door.

“I can manage here, sir. You have to let me fly solo sometime, you know.”

I hesitated, but he was right. He was a competent coffee maker, with deft hands on the blender and steamer. It wouldn’t hurt to let him have the responsibility. “All right. Come and get me if there’s a problem.”

Hugh grinned and waved me away, but at least Will gave me a beer and a sympathetic hearing when I used my stepladders, clambered over the wall between our adjoining backyards, and demanded admittance. Will was alone. Mrs. Somers was out at the Opera House being something dramatic with improbably high notes.

“Have another beer,” he said when I’d retold the day’s events for the third time, with keen-edged analysis this time.

“Mmn,” I said, and there was silence for a while. It was pleasant. Will was undemanding and quiet, content to sit and let me think.

But what I was thinking had nothing to do with quiet contentment. I liked Ned. I admitted it, to myself at least. I really, really liked Ned. I could admit that too. But I didn’t know what Ned thought of me, why he never mentioned the night we’d had together at Margrethe’s, if there was any chance at all, if I had made such a fool of myself with Daniel that morning that Ned would never come back again… and round and round it went, like a rat in a cage.

“Rafe,” said Will. When I looked up, he grinned and clinked his glass against mine. “It seems to me you are more than a little smitten.”

I was too shocked to maintain that I had no idea what Will was talking about. Was he serious? Did he guess? I could feel my heart rate quicken. The room felt cold suddenly.

Will nodded, as if his diagnosis had been confirmed. “I think I’m right.” Then he said, very quietly, “It’s no concern of mine, Rafe. Just be careful.”

I gaped at him, like a fish gulping down air. He grinned, winked, and because, like most people, he was as self-centered as they come and couldn’t focus on my problems for more than a few moments, he added, “Do you want to come to the Opera House one weekend? Annabelle can get a box for the Saturday night performance, with a little notice. You’ll have to leave the coffeehouse early of course, but with Hugh to help you these days, that shouldn’t be a problem, should it? We could have a late supper somewhere afterward.”

Annabelle was Mrs. Somers. She was a very fine lady indeed, and I had a very healthy respect for her. So healthy it did calisthenics before breakfast and ten mile runs. Will was very respectful to her too. Privately I was of the view that she was as scary as Hades and that Will was a worm under her pretty little foot. But I had far more sense than to say so where Mrs. Somers might overhear me.

Will had no business introducing his own concerns when all I wanted to do was think about Ned Winter. Still, an evening out doing something other than coffee sounded good. Even an evening at the opera.

“Yes,” I said. “Thank you.” I stared at him for a moment. “Will, are you sure?”

Will’s smile broadened. “Of course I am, Rafe. Do you think me an innocent? I trained in Paris, and many of my fellow chefs wore the green carnation. I wasn’t concerned about it. Less competition for the ladies, for a start! So don’t worry about it affecting our friendship. It won’t. And Annabelle won’t worry, either, given how many male ballet dancers she knows. The opera house is full of them, as you’ll see for yourself. Bring Ned Winter with you, if you like.” He jumped up. “That reminds me! I’ve got something for you.”

He darted away and returned after a moment, two books beneath his arm. He handed them over with a flourish. Both had dark blue hard covers impressed with pyramids and sphinxes.
Rituals and Death in Ancient Aegypt
and
Early Aegyptian Culture,
published by the Britannic Imperium Museum Press and with their author’s name on them in gilded letters: E. F. Winter. “If you’re going to be lovelorn for an academic, Rafe, you’d better be able to quote the titles of his books. You can read, can’t you?”

I waved off the insult, handling the thick tomes with a certain amount of trepidation. They reminded me all too much of the books I’d studied at Oxford, with the same air of serious scholarship and the same dense black text. Thankfully these were interspersed with plenty of illustrations. I thanked Will, of course, as I leafed through them. A paragraph caught my attention. “Did you know that they yanked your brain out through your nose when they mummified you?”