*
ROLLO HAD BECOMEa firm favourite amongst the servants.Despite the lashing rain (naturally, Rollo had packed the fine summer weather to take with him), they lined up on the drive, every single one of them, to wish him a pleasant journey.It would have been churlish of Lyndon to disallow it.Irritatingly, Berridge dragged him from the drawing room to join them, with Cook at his shoulder.It had been many years since she’d tanned his arse with her rolling pin, but the expression on her face suggested he wasn’t too old for her to give it another go.
Thus, Lyndon was obliged to play lord of the manor.Which was how he ended up, under the cover of an umbrella, solemnly wishing his lover a safe, short trip.When really, he wanted to crush Rollo against him as he’d done all night, apologise for being such an ass at breakfast, then take a leaf out of Count Rodolfo’s book and lock him in his bedchamber and throw away the key.
But it was far too late for that, and all his servants were watching him with curiosity.Before Lyndon knew it, in a cloud of spitting gravel, Rollo was gone.
Chapter Twenty-One
My dearest Fitz.I was greatly moved by your distress at my departure.Your dreadful attempts to cover it up with surliness at breakfast only make me love you even more.
PS You know how much I adore you when you growl.
DOBSON’S HALITOSIS HADnot improved during Rollo’s absence.Thanks to the hazardous wet road conditions, he suffered it at close quarters for an extra day.
Yet it mattered not, as Rollo believed himself the most fortunate man alive.He had Rossingley, his papa, his adored Willoughby, and now he hadhis fabulous Fitz too.Even if Fitz had woken with a thick head and pouted like a spoiled child whose nursemaid had refused him a twist of barley sugar.The stupid thing was, Rollo didn’t care.In fact, he positively relished Fitz’s mercurial moods.As both a savage and a gentleman, Lyndon aroused Rollo on a deep, visceral level he didn’t fully comprehend.But, by God, every single inch of him missed his lover already.What were roughly three weeks apart when they had a whole lifetime to enjoy?Rollo had already written to him thrice, and he hadn’t even reached home!
The only problem with nestling in the bosom of such a loving family was that Rollo never knew whose arms to fling himself into first.It all ended up being a bit of a jumble, with him throwing himself at Willoughby and squeezing until he could hardly draw breath, Kit swinging him around in a mad waltz, and finally, Papa enfolding him inside his familiar, warm embrace and hugging him tight, near suffocating him in swathes of slippery silk.His homecoming would have been absolutely perfect if only he hadn’t had to leave Fitz behind.
“I’m so sorry, darling, for sending you away for such a long time,” crooned Papa.“Kit can confirm.I have been drenched in guilt from the moment you left.”
He stepped back, but only for half a second, so his glittery eyes could examine Rollo from head to toe as if checking he was, indeed, returned and in one piece.Then Papa clutched him to his chest once more.“Was Fitzsimmons so terribly beastly?”
Over Papa’s shoulder, Willoughby smirked and made an obscene gesture.Rollo suppressed a snigger.Goodness, how marvellous it was to be home.
“Terribly,” Rollo confirmed, winking at his twin.“On many occasions, the man was a veritable animal.”He pulled away from his father in order to expand his lungs.“But I have learned my lesson, Papa.I am returned healthy, older, and wiser.”
Letting out an enormous sigh, Papa fondled his pearls, beaming at Rollo as if he’d just laid a golden egg.Another suffocating embrace was brewing, Rollo could feel it.“Oh, my darling.Such a brave boy.And on your own all that time too.”
Willoughby snorted.“He’s nineteen, Papa.Even our Rolly can survive a few weeks being fed, watered, and entertained in an aristocrat’s Norfolk manor house.And surely, he wasn’t alone all the time, were you, Rolly?”He threw Rollo a leery look.“Surely Lord Lyndon gave yousomeof his attention.”
“Oh, you know.Dribs and drabs.”
Rollo attempted to look hard done by as Papa swept him up again.If he played his hand well, he could milk this for several days.Or at least until he plucked up the courage to admit to his father the extent of his relationship with the dastardly lord.“He has a large library and gardens.And a particularly fine and airy nursery.It wasn’t so terrible.”
*
DRESSED IN HISoldest, comfiest nightshirt, Rollo sprawled across Willoughby’s bed with a happy sigh.As much as he adored Papa and Kit and their undivided attention, the evening had seemed interminable.He’d regaled them with tales of the dance, the Simpsons, a vivid description of his host’s beautiful gardens and a less complimentary description of the murky Norfolk Broads.His love for Fitz and his imminent return to Goule he kept to himself.He would wait for a few days, carefully erect the scaffolding of a man much changed from the feckless ogre Papa once knew, and then pick the perfect moment.
He could bore Willoughby with his heart’s desires though.That was what a twin brother was for, was it not?
“I’m so in love, Willoughby.I feel as if I’m a star shooting across the heavens and forever falling, falling, falling.Faster and faster.With no end to it!”
Willoughby rolled over to clutch his hand.“Then I am a star too, and we shall gladly cartwheel through the firmament together.”
Rollo raised an eyebrow.“Three is a crowd, Willoughby.As much as I adore you, if I’m to perform acrobatics through space at breakneck speed, then I’m somersaulting with Fitz.”
“Four of us shall plummet to earth,” Willoughby contradicted.“Not three.In fact, I’ve a mind to compose a poem about it first thing in the morning.I visited Stapleton again today, my second visit this week.My sweet Lavinia receives my courtship warmly and matches my affections with her own.I am of the opinion that Lord Stapleton is very much in favour.”
“How marvellous,” responded Rollo neutrally.I’d wager they are.Fitz’s blunt appraisal of his twin’s situation played in Rollo’s ears.Shrewd observation or weary cynicism?Regardless, simply recalling his own lover’s lazy, deep baritone set his heart thumping.
“And does Papa approve of this match?”
For the first time since his return, Willoughby’s face fell.“Oh, he’s being awfully tedious about the whole thing.He says I’m too young, of course, to know my own heart.Naturally, I pointed out that he and Mama were betrothed at a similar age, yet he was having none of it.”
“But that was not a love match,” interjected Rollo.“They hardly knew each other.Neither had a lot of say in the matter, though Papa strove to be a good husband.”
“Well, Lavinia and I have been pals for yonks.Since we were infants, with never a cross word!We get on splendidly.”
