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“What else would we be?” Sage asked and looked at Lavender. He held up his hands and looked at Reginald.
“What else would we be?”
“You’re both Americans!” Reginald laughed, causing Lavender to laugh as well but in disbelief.
“Highly unlikely.”
“You’re practically British but you’re from Detroit, sir. And Sage is from just outside of Chicago,” Reginald informed them. Sage’s lips pursed to ask a question but Lavender shook his head.
“What he has to say is utterly unfathomable but I’d like to see what I can learn from him.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small parcel. It was wrapped in paper and tied with twine. “For you. To add to your collection.”
“Is it…?” Sage was excited as he went to the table in the center of the front hall and carefully untied the twine and opened it. “Jeremy!” He held up a glass ornament. It was gold and shaped like a cluster of berries. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Sage asked Reginald before he hurried into the sitting room.
Reginald’s eyes widened at the Christmas tree. It was strung with berries and ribbons and winter flowers were tied to the branches.
“How lovely,” Reginald said sincerely. Christmases were always grand at Holderson Manor but Reginald thought that this was the most beautiful tree they’d ever had. He spotted several German glass ornaments amongst the branches and Lavender looked on adoringly as Sage found the perfect spot for his latest treasure.
“Sage is rather taken with Prince Albert’s ‘Christmas trees,’” Lavender said with an indulgent chuckle. Reginald rolled his eyes at Lavender. He was still hopelessly besotted, even in Reginald’s wildest fever dream.
“I assume you’re taking Marston with you to the Coonans’. You know I have Lord Carmichael this afternoon,” Sage said with a weary groan. Lavender waited until his back was turned and slid Reginald a disgruntled look.
“Lord Carmichael is rather taken with Sage and has commissioned yet another portrait.”
“Lord Carmichael is taken with himself and I’m in demand at the moment. Carmichael knows I’m a waste of his time and has plenty of willing paramours,” Sage told Reginald but Lavender made a skeptical sound.
“I do not doubt your talent but I find it hard to believe that any man is that enamored with his own image. I do like to be here when he arrives, as a reminder,” he drawled. Sage shook his head at Lavender.
“He needs no reminding, Jeremy. And I’ve told you, I’m a touch old for his tastes. We spend most of our time discussing the latest crop of young lords and which ones Carmichael should beguile and bugger.”
As if he were cued, they heard the doorbell peel and the sleek, silent butler sped through the front hall to get the door. A few moments later, a tall, handsome older man strolled into the sitting room. His temples were streaked with silver and his dark mustache was elegantly curled at the ends. Reginald would have told Lavender that it was entirely possible that this man was enamored enough with himself to commission countless portraits. It was inherently obvious in the way he swanned into the room and threw back his overcoat, leaving the butler to dive in and catch it before it landed on the floor.
“Hideous weather!” He complained to Sage then stopped when he spotted Marston. “Hello. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Sage widened his eyes at Carmichael. “Odd, isn’t it? But it seems that Jeremy’s taken Marston into his confidence and the two are up to something.” That got a hard snort from Lavender.
“Marston’s taken me into his confidence and I’m humoring him in case a crisis is imminent,” he murmured and Reginald nodded.
“A crisis is always imminent and I should be supervised.” He caught Carmichael checking him out so Reginald gave him the wink.
Reginald was comforted to know that his sexual radar was still working and it had been so long since he’d deployed his weapons. He saw the wink make a direct hit, like a heat-seeking missile, and Carmichael trembled. A coy bite to the lip as Reginald let out a soft, sultry hum and Carmichael was sunk.
“Lord Marston.” He held out his hand, requesting Reginald’s.
“Carmichael.” Reginald obliged and enjoyed the hungry look Carmichael shot him. His lips brushed against Reginald’s knuckles and there was a sly flick of his tongue. It traced the groove between Reginald’s fingers suggestively before his hand was released.
“I would have sought out an introduction sooner if I had known,” he purred, pulling Reginald closer. Lavender cleared his throat loudly.
“Lord Marston, aren’t you married?”
“Yes. But…” Reginald raised a shoulder. He was enjoying the dashing older man’s attention and it wasn’t like it was real or would mean anything.
“I do believe it would be wise to separate yourself from Lord Carmichael,” Lavender said loudly. “He isn’t known for his discretion.”
“Who’s he gonna tell?” Reginald laughed, enthralled with the idea of exploring another man’s mouth and body without any real consequences. It had been so long since Reginald had even dreamed about fucking anyone other than Paul, it was a bit thrilling.
Then, Reginald noticed how much thinner Carmichael’s lips were than Paul’s and that his shoulders weren’t as wide. There was a dramatic decrease in arousal as Reginald glanced at Carmichael’s pale, soft, perfectly manicured hand. Reginald’s nose wrinkled as he imagined it touching his bare flesh.
“Never mind,” he sighed as he turned from Carmichael, dismissing him. “Do we need to get ready for this thing tonight? I’m sure you have something special laid out for the evening,” He asked Lavender, his focus firmly back on the task at hand.
That got a laugh out of Sage as he towed a devastated Lord Carmichael from the room. “Every evening is a special occasion. Jeremy’s entire life is a formal event.”
