The Christmas Wager

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 2

Chapter 1 LORD THOMAS BARRINGTON rolled over, shielding his face from the harsh sunlight coming through the window of his room at the University Club. ―It‘s no good, Thomas,‖ came a man‘s voice, ―I‘ve already summoned a carriage. You‘d better get up.‖ Thomas opened one eye and saw his friend, Andrew Nash, sitting near the bed, dressed in his finest riding clothes and looking far too cheerful. ―I feel wretched.‖ ―No doubt,‖ Andrew replied unsympathetically. finished off that entire bottle of Scotch last night.‖

―You

Both men were in their mid twenties, recently having graduated from Oxford. It was here, at the club, that they‘d first made each other‘s acquaintance three years earlier. Nash wasn‘t nobility, but he‘d managed to turn his late father‘s import business into an exceedingly profitable enterprise, and Thomas was shamed to see that Andrew‘s traveling clothes were of a far finer make than he himself could afford. He sat up and tentatively placed his feet over the edge of the bed. ―What kind of friend lets me drink a fifth of Scotch by myself?‖ he asked irritably, running his hand through his thick chestnut hair, as if that might somehow soothe the dull ache that gripped his head. The floor was cold against his bare feet, but he lacked the motivation to find his slippers.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 3 Andrew found them for him and slid them across the floor with his walking stick until they were within Thomas‘s reach. ―I could hardly have stopped you,‖ the handsome blond commented. ―Besides, being drunk made you more susceptible.‖ ―Susceptible?‖ Thomas asked. ―Susceptible to what?‖ Then it all came back to him, and the significance of Andrew‘s outfit finally filtered through his alcohol-muddled brain. ―Oh no. Andrew, you couldn‘t possibly hold me to a promise made while I was in my cups.‖ ―Couldn‘t I?‖ The young man‘s blond curls and mischievous smile always made Thomas think of an angelic Michelangelo sculpture turned bad. Long-lashed blue eyes watched him as he dragged himself over to the nightstand to splash some water on his face. ―Unless yourself….‖

you‘d

care

to

settle

your

gambling

debts

―Andrew,‖ Thomas said, raising his face to regard him in the mirror. ―It‘s crude to talk of money matters so blatantly.‖ Andrew shrugged, unconcerned. Normally, a man of his station would be more respectful of the son of a duke. Indeed, a man of his station would normally never wake a nobleman up in the morning and watch him stagger around before he‘d made himself presentable. But their friendship had long ago grown to the point where such formalities were dispensed with—at least in private. ―I‘m afraid I lack your breeding. So forgive me. But you were the one foolish enough to bet Stratford money you knew you didn‘t have.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 4 Thomas reached for his shaving brush, wet it, and began swirling it around on a bar of soap. ―I thought I could win.‖ ―But you didn‘t.‖ Slathering the soap on his chin was easy enough, but Thomas‘s hands were shaking a bit, making the idea of running his straight razor along his neck somewhat frightening. ―I do appreciate you saving me from humiliation, Andrew, but you must understand. I am no longer welcome at Barrington Hall, at Christmastime or any other. I simply can‘t take you there.‖ ―Nonsense,‖ Andrew replied, setting his cane aside to come close and take the potentially deadly weapon out of his friend‘s unsteady hand. ―It‘s been years since you left. I‘m sure your father would love to see you.‖ ―You don‘t know him.‖ ―Well, neither do you. Not after six years. He may have changed his mind about a great many things. And you promised last night to take me to the country, in exchange for forgiving your debt.‖ ―I was tricked.‖ ―Absolutely.‖ Thomas allowed Andrew to take his chin in hand and begin shaving him. It was mildly embarrassing, but Andrew was so much better at it than he was. And Thomas had been forced to dismiss his valet years ago, when his allowance proved too paltry to afford such a luxury. He would be lost without Andrew, truly. The man was the dearest friend one could ask for, always there when he needed companionship, always willing to cover his debts, even nursing Thomas when he was ill.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 5 And what was he asking for in return? To spend the holidays in the country, just this once. At Barrington Hall. Andrew had never been there, of course, so he no doubt had an overly idyllic image in his head about life in a country manor. But he had no family, after the passing of his mother four years ago, and the holidays seemed to weigh upon him. And Thomas certainly did not have enough money to repay him for last night. Nor would he for a very long time. Thomas sighed. ―Very well. But I warn you, we may be turned away at the door.‖ Andrew simply gave him that mischievous smile again.

THOMAS had insisted on tea before leaving the club, which delayed them further and made the driver of their carriage irritable. But Andrew simply gave the man a large tip for waiting and helped Thomas climb into the carriage. Then they were off for Barrington. Thomas, of course, fell back to sleep immediately. Andrew sat across from him, watching his friend sleep, the tousled hair and sensuous mouth so beautiful and sweet in repose. The blond sighed and forced himself to look away, at the dirty London streets slipping past the window, at the novel he was pretending to read, at anything else. What would happen, he wondered, if Thomas ever opened those soft jade-colored eyes and saw Andrew watching him with eyes full of not only affection, but desire? It was too horrible to contemplate. Someday, Andrew knew, Thomas would drift away from him. Their intense, close friendship would fade; Thomas would find comfort in the arms of a woman. It was inevitable. But

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 6 until that day, Thomas was his. Not in the way Andrew desperately longed for, but in the only way it could ever be. So, for now, he would revel in it, and fight to keep the truth from ever slipping out—that he loved Lord Thomas Barrington with all of his heart. My God, Andrew thought, if he ever were to discover it! Thomas would be horrified. Repelled. As any respectable English gentleman would be. At best, he would turn Andrew away and never see him again. At worst, he might press charges as well. This sort of thing was against the law, as Andrew well knew. He forced these dire thoughts out of his head, and turned back to the carriage window as they left London behind. The village of Barrington was several hours away from London, and somehow Thomas managed to sleep through the entire journey, except for brief stops in Sevenoaks and Tonbridge, where he managed to rouse himself for relief and something small to eat. Andrew let him sleep, though he found the journey dull without a companion to talk to. His novel quickly bored him, so he contented himself with watching the scenery out the carriage window. He‘d never been to the country as a boy, as his family had lived in London and had no living relations outside the city. Andrew‘s mother had spoken often of how she missed the small country cottage she‘d lived in as a young girl, painting a charming picture of the English countryside that made Andrew yearn to see it. But his father had been born in London and, to the best of Andrew‘s knowledge, never set foot outside the city until the day he died. Perhaps he was being foolish. Most likely, he would find that Barrington Hall was drafty and unpleasant, and he would quickly find himself longing for the modern amenities London

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 7 had to offer. But his best friend was a lord, the second son of the Duke of Barrington! How often did one get an invitation to spend the holidays with a noble family—even if the invitation was forced? Thomas had described the great hall full of candles and gay Christmas balls, and feasts of goose and pheasant and Christmas puddings. It sounded so wonderful. Too, Andrew desperately wanted to see where Thomas had spent his childhood. Perhaps some part of him thought it would strengthen the bond they shared. He was concerned, of course, that the holiday would prove an unhappy time for Thomas. The young man described his father as a tyrant who had tried to force Thomas into a marriage to a woman he hadn‘t loved. Just as he‘d forced Thomas‘s older brother, Edward, into an arranged marriage. Thomas had fled to London, and it was only through the intervention of his mother that he did not find himself cut off entirely, but at the receiving end of a small allowance. Andrew prayed that his foolishness wouldn‘t make matters worse for Thomas, but his friend had spoken fondly of the mother he feared he might never see again, and the niece he‘d read about in her letters, but never met. After losing the last member of his own family, it seemed tragic to Andrew that Thomas should remain cut off from those he loved because of an argument six years in the past. Surely there was a possibility of reconciliation. If worse comes to worse, Andrew told himself, I’ll support the bastard. For as long as he’ll let me. The sun was beginning to set when the carriage rounded a small hill. And suddenly there it was—Barrington Hall, lit orange by the setting sun against a darkening sky, with the glass of hundreds of windows reflecting red-gold fire. Andrew‘s breath caught at the sight of it. He‘d never imagined it being

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 8 this spectacular. The hall was enormous, rivaling any of the buildings Andrew had seen in London, and surrounded by immaculately manicured lawn—though that was withered and brown at this time of year—and evergreen hedges. A vast forest lay beyond that, and some distance to the south, Andrew could see the small village named for the hall. As the carriage drove up to the wrought-iron gate, and the coachman conversed with the gatekeeper, Andrew roused his friend. ―Welcome home, Lord Barrington,‖ he said cheerfully. Thomas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and peered bleary-eyed through the carriage window. ―Let‘s hope Mother doesn‘t allow Father to keep his hunting rifles in the house.‖

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Chapter 2 WHEN the carriage pulled up in front of the stone steps that led up to the massive columns of Barrington Hall‘s façade, a little girl in a bright blue dress and a heavy wool overcoat came hopping down the steps alongside the servants. Thomas didn‘t recognize her, but then she appeared to be only about four years old. Presumably, she was the niece his mother had written about. What was her name? Susan. That was it. Andrew allowed him to step out of the carriage first, and the little girl was upon him the moment his feet touched the ground. She was a pretty little thing, with wide eyes and lovely red hair swept back with a blue ribbon. Now that he could see her clearly, the resemblance to her mother was obvious. But she regarded him with a rather serious expression for one so young. ―Are you Susan?‖ he asked when the girl seemed disinclined to speak first. She nodded, reaching a hand up to take the butler‘s hand. ―She‘s a bit shy, my lord,‖ Simcox said, smiling fondly at her. Then he turned his smile upon Thomas. ―It‘s good to have you back, sir! I‘m afraid I wasn‘t informed of your coming, so your room hasn‘t yet been prepared. But we‘ll soon see to it.‖ ―Thank you, Simcox.‖ Thomas stepped aside to allow Andrew to climb down from the carriage. ―My friend, Mr. Nash, will also be staying with us.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 10 ―Very good, sir.‖ Thomas leaned down to smile at Susan in a way that he hoped was unthreatening. He hadn‘t the faintest idea how to behave with children. ―Hello, Susan. I‘m your Uncle Thomas.‖ ―Hello,‖ she replied politely, though she still regarded him warily. ―Has your father ever mentioned me?‖ She shook her head. That couldn‘t be a good sign, Thomas thought. Had his very name become a dirty word at Barrington? He was further disconcerted when they entered the great hall. At this time of year, six years ago, Barrington Hall would have been festooned with sweet scented spruce and balsam, and ribbons in crimson and gold. Now, with Christmas less than a week away, there wasn‘t a trace of holiday decoration. Not a single bough of evergreen nor sprig of holly. Worse, the two large mantels on either side of the hall were draped with black cloth, one also sporting a portrait of the late Lady Anne Barrington. Admittedly, she‘d been a very beautiful woman, with flaming red hair like her daughter‘s. But the overall effect was positively dreary. Was this to be the best he could offer Andrew for a country Christmas celebration? Simcox relieved them of their coats. Thomas was about to ask the butler about the evident lack of holiday cheer in the hall when the door to the parlor opened and Duchess Barrington—his mother—appeared. Now in her late forties and a grandmother, Duchess Barrington was still a strikingly beautiful woman, her deep chestnut hair seemingly untouched by age and drawn back in fashionable braids, and her figure still trim in a white house dress with blue lace. Thomas suppressed an urge to rush to her and take her into his arms, not knowing what his reception

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 11 would be. But he needn‘t have worried. Duchess Barrington‘s face lit up at the sight of her son, and she came forward to greet him warmly. ―Thomas! I didn‘t believe it, when they told me you‘d come.‖ She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. ―College has been good to you, I see. You‘ve grown even more handsome!‖ ―Mother,‖ Thomas said, blushing slightly, ―I‘d like to introduce Mr. Andrew Nash. He‘s a dear friend from London.‖ She took Andrew‘s hand and said, ―I‘m pleased to meet you, Mr. Nash.‖ ―The pleasure is all mine, Duchess Barrington.‖ Thomas could see Andrew glancing around at the barren hall and he couldn‘t resist saying, ―Mother, I‘ve brought Andrew for Christmas….‖ His voice trailed off, but Duchess Barrington knew perfectly well what he was getting at. She patted her granddaughter on the head and said, ―Susan, why don‘t you go up to the nursery? Katie will have your dinner ready soon.‖ ―Yes, Grandmother.‖ The little girl gave Thomas one last cautious look, and then ran up the broad staircase that led from the great hall to the second floor. Duchess Barrington smiled at both young men and said, ―Let us retire to the parlor, shall we? Simcox? Would you kindly ask Charlotte to bring us some tea? Thank you.‖ Then, with the air of one accustomed to being in charge of her domain, the woman returned to the parlor, leaving her son and Andrew to follow. Thomas caught Andrew smiling at him, his eyes twinkling. As it sometimes did, the beauty of that smile caught Thomas unawares, making him glance away

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 12 quickly. He was fairly certain most men did not have to fight an occasional desire to kiss their male friends on the mouth. It disturbed him, but as always, he pushed it out of his mind. Still, he couldn‘t resist touching Andrew lightly on the back to guide him into the parlor. It was an affectionate gesture, but not unseemly. Or so Thomas thought. Andrew quickly stepped forward to break the contact, which left Thomas wondering if he had done something inappropriate, after all. At any rate, Andrew appeared to have taken a liking to his mother, which pleased him. The parlor was just as Thomas remembered it—tastefully done in blue and gray, with a burgundy Persian carpet to add color. The mantel over the fireplace held an assortment of porcelain figurines—children and animals, mostly—that the servants had always grumbled about having to clean so often, in order to keep them free of smoke and soot. The room was unusually small, compared to other rooms in Barrington Hall, but his mother had always liked it because it felt cozy to her. Not until Duchess Barrington was settled in her chair by the fire, and the maid had come to bring them their tea, did she address her son‘s question. ―As you must know, Thomas, from the letters I‘ve sent, Anne passed away three years ago, from scarlet fever.‖ ―Yes, I received the letter.‖ He could tell from the look she gave him that his failure to respond to the letter—or indeed, to any of her letters, over the years—irked her, but she diverted her gaze to Andrew. ―Anne was Susan‘s mother, and the wife of Thomas‘s older brother, Edward.‖ ―My condolences, Duchess Barrington.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 13 ―Thank you,‖ the woman replied graciously. ―Well, of course Edward was devastated. It happened just before Christmas, and he refused to celebrate the holidays at all. ―Your father and I,‖ she added, looking pointedly at Thomas, ―respected his wishes, of course.‖ ―Of course,‖ Thomas responded. ―But that was three years ago, Mother.‖ Duchess Barrington sighed wistfully and took a sip of her tea. ―Yes. I quite agree that Edward has been dwelling on this tragedy for far too long. It cannot be healthy for him. Nor for Susan. But he won‘t listen to me, and your father has little concern these days for anything other than those wretched dogs.‖ Dogs? Thomas decided to let that one go, for now. He stood from his place on the settee beside Andrew and began pacing, a dangerous thing to do in the close quarters of the sitting room. ―Mother, this is really intolerable. I promised Andrew that I would show him a real Barrington Hall Christmas, and what do I find? No decorations, no tree, I can only presume there are no plans for a ball—‖ ―No, dear.‖ Thomas was gesticulating wildly now, as he often did when he was frustrated, ―Why, there isn‘t even any snow!‖ His mother clucked at him. ―Thomas, you can hardly blame us for lack of snow.‖ ―It‘s all right, Thomas,‖ Andrew said, attempting, no doubt, to head off one of Thomas‘s infamous rants. But he was hiding a smile. He always seemed to find some kind of perverse amusement in Thomas‘s overzealousness. ―Really. I‘m quite sympathetic to your brother‘s circumstances.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 14 ―Well, I‘m not,‖ Thomas stated firmly. ―Never mind how any of us feel about it, he has a little girl to look out for!‖ ―I hardly think you‘re in a position to give your brother advice on childrearing,‖ Duchess Barrington said. This brought Thomas up short. It was true, he knew very little about children. And this particular child had lived her entire life without his benefit. He hadn‘t even been to Lady Anne‘s funeral. But it was Christmas, dash it! And here was a four-yearold girl trapped in a cavernous old hall without a single holly berry to brighten its cheerless corridors. Surely she deserved a champion? ―Regardless, Mother,‖ Thomas said, calming himself, ―I feel I should have a word with Edward. The girl deserves to have some fun over the holidays.‖ His mother sighed and put her tea cup down on its delicate china saucer. ―If you wanted to speak with Edward, you would have done better to stay in London. He‘s there attending to some business for a few days.‖ Thomas felt his frustration mounting. He really had no say over anything at the hall anymore. He could hardly take it into his own hands to start decorating without getting Edward‘s permission. While he was mulling this over, he was dimly aware of a commotion in the outer hall, an odd sound like hundreds of tiny pebbles clicking against the stone floor. ―Really, Thomas,‖ Duchess Barrington said, ―you have far more to worry about than Christmas, I think. Your father, for one thing.‖ Thomas was almost knocked over by a large hound darting between his legs and into the room, the animal‘s toenails

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 15 clicking against the floor until its muddy paws reached the Persian carpet. His mother was horrified. She stood, attempting to shoo the dog away from the tea and cakes with her handkerchief. ―Get out of here, you filthy brute!‖ But it was no use. Two more dogs shoved their way past Thomas, and one jumped up on the settee, placing its giant paws in Andrew‘s lap and sending the tea cup Andrew had been drinking from flying out of his hand. The cup shattered against the table. ―What are you doing here?‖ The voice that came from behind Thomas was a furious growl. Thomas turned reluctantly to face his father, the Duke of Barrington. He‘d grown a bit heavier since Thomas had last seen him, but otherwise he looked fit. Apart from the fact that his face was red with anger. He was holding one of the hounds by the collar, restraining the beast from joining its brothers in the parlor, as he glared at his prodigal son. ―I thought we were well shut of you!‖

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Chapter 3 ANDREW liked dogs. But three was a bit much for a room this size, and the one in his lap was threatening to tear his best breeches. He managed to push the large hunting hound off the settee, but that merely caused the dog to bump against the table and rattle the china tea service. ―Henry!‖ Duchess Barrington snapped at her husband. ―Get these beasts out of my parlor, at once!‖ The duke whistled loudly, and the dogs nearly knocked Thomas over again as they rushed to the side of their master. ―Come here, boys!‖ Thomas was looking a bit pale, but he took a deep breath and said, ―Father—‖ ―Don‘t ‗Father‘ me,‖ the duke interrupted sharply. ―You turned your back on this family and your duty years ago. You‘re no son of mine. And you are no longer welcome in this house.‖ ―Henry,‖ his wife said, attempting to calm him. But the duke was beyond listening. He brandished his walking stick at his son. ―Isn‘t it enough that I pay to keep you in that club of yours in London? Do you want me to cut you off entirely? I want you out of here by morning! If I catch the smallest glimpse of you after luncheon, I‘ll have you thrown off the premises!‖ He stormed away, calling for his dogs to follow.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 17 Thomas said nothing, but he looked miserable, and Andrew had to fight the desire to go to him. There was no comfort he could offer. He busied himself picking up the fragments of the shattered teacup, while Duchess Barrington rang for the servants. ―I‘ve told him repeatedly to keep those animals out of the house,‖ she muttered, then noticed her son‘s dark expression. ―Thomas, you know how your father is.‖ ―Unforgiving,‖ Thomas replied coldly. ―Stubborn,‖ Duchess Barrington amended. ―Perhaps you can have a talk with him in the morning, when he‘s gotten over the shock of seeing you.‖ A young servant girl appeared in the doorway, peering around Thomas shyly, not wanting to push past him. ―You rang, Your Grace?‖ ―Ah, Charlotte. Yes. The dogs have gotten into the parlor again. Would you please do what you can to get the mud out of the carpet and the upholstery?‖ ―Yes, ma‘am.‖ ―And one of the cups has been broken—that‘s quite all right, Mr. Nash. Charlotte will take care of it.‖ Andrew placed the fragments on his saucer and stood, doing his best to act as though none of this were of any consequence. But Thomas‘s unhappy expression was weighing on him heavily. ―Oh dear,‖ Duchess Barrington said, ―I see the brutes have damaged your outfit.‖ Andrew smiled. ―It‘s merely a bit of mud, Duchess Barrington. I‘m sure it will come out.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 18 ―I think, perhaps, we should retire for the evening,‖ Thomas said, having found his voice at last. ―That is, unless you think we should leave straight away, Mother.‖ His mother waved a dismissive hand. ―I see no reason you shouldn‘t stay the night. Charlotte, have rooms been prepared for Thomas and his guest?‖ ―Yes, ma‘am. Mr. Simcox ordered His Lordship‘s old room prepared, as well as the guest room beside it.‖ Thomas kissed his mother goodnight, and much to Andrew‘s relief, the two young men were quickly taken upstairs. He was beginning to regret making this arrangement with Thomas. Andrew had always been under the impression that Thomas cared little what the duke thought, but now he could see that Thomas was indeed very distraught over being unwelcome. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to leave first thing in the morning. The room Charlotte showed him to was palatial. It was the largest bedroom he‘d ever seen, with an enormous four-poster surrounded by heavy maroon bed curtains, and a sitting area with an ornately carved table of dark mahogany, with matching chairs. A silver tray had been laid out on the table with a brandy decanter and a couple snifters. Two burgundy upholstered armchairs flanked a white marble fireplace that Andrew could have walked into, had it not currently contained a blazing fire. He could have lived in this room alone, for it was larger than most apartments he‘d seen. Thomas had disappeared into his own room the moment they arrived upstairs, but shortly after the servant girl left, there was a faint knock on the connecting door, and Thomas let himself in. ―I hope you find the room comfortable,‖ Thomas said.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 19 He was clearly still in a foul mood, and looking for company. Andrew had seen this side of Thomas before. ―It‘s superb,‖ he said, smiling as he removed his overcoat. ―The hall is magnificent, Thomas. Far beyond anything I‘d imagined.‖ Thomas harrumphed and dropped into one of the armchairs. ―It‘s far less than I imagined. My father has always been impossible, but what can Edward be thinking? That little girl probably doesn‘t even remember what Christmas is!‖ This was one of the things Andrew adored about Thomas. In many ways, the man could often be childish and temperamental, but he was, at heart, a man who felt passionately about defending others. Andrew took a step toward him, wanting to put a hand on his friend‘s shoulder, but knowing it would be inappropriate. He rested it on the back of Thomas‘s chair instead. ―She isn‘t your daughter,‖ he said, sensibly. ―You don‘t really even know her.‖ Thomas sighed. ―Yes, I know. I really should have come back when her mother passed away, but….‖ He trailed off, apparently disinclined to finish the thought. He noticed the mud on Andrew‘s thigh and reached out to brush it with his hand. ―I‘m afraid my father‘s dogs have ruined your riding clothes.‖ The gesture was probably a mere afterthought—certainly not meant to be arousing. But the light touch of Thomas‘s fingers on Andrew‘s inner thigh, scant inches away from his crotch, made Andrew‘s breath catch in his throat. He attempted to disguise it with a slight cough and moved away to stand near the fireplace, praying his arousal wasn‘t obvious through the fabric of his breeches.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 20 ―I‘m certain the mud will wash out,‖ he said. Then he noted, ―The servants seem to have given me some brandy. Shall I pour you some?‖ ―No,‖ Thomas replied, looking a bit peaked, ―My head still feels dreadful, after last night. I suppose I‘ll go to bed early.‖ He stood, but hesitated before leaving. ―I‘m so sorry about all of this, Andrew.‖ ―You‘ve nothing to be sorry about,‖ Andrew said, giving him a warm smile. ―Truly, I‘m the one who should apologize, for putting you in this situation. I failed to realize how difficult it would be for you. It was very selfish of me.‖ Thomas gave him a fleeting smile, then left. Andrew groaned and collapsed into the other armchair. What a mess he‘d made of things.

THOMAS lay in his bed, so familiar, yet somehow alien after six years, hoping for sleep to finally put an end to this horrible day. He couldn‘t honestly say he was surprised by his father‘s reaction. But if he were being honest, he had to admit he‘d hoped enough time had gone by for the duke to calm down. Apparently not. Yet if he were being truly honest, Thomas thought, he would admit that what was keeping him awake was something far more troubling. Why did he keep having this desire to touch Andrew? What was wrong with him? It was odd behavior, and his friend clearly disliked it.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 21 Andrew was the best friend he‘d ever had. Thomas didn‘t want to lose him. He couldn’t lose him. So there was only one thing for it. Thomas would have to stop touching him. So, with this new resolution firm in his mind, Thomas at last drifted off to sleep.

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Chapter 4 ANDREW woke the next morning in the luxurious four-poster bed and for a moment thought he must be dreaming. Then he remembered how unhappy Thomas had been the night before and came crashing back to reality. Barrington Hall was far from a dream. Andrew wished he‘d never suggested they come. Well, we’ll be heading back to London in a matter of hours, he reassured himself. I just hope Thomas can forgive me for being such a fool. He washed his face in the water basin near the bed, and then dressed. It was unlikely Thomas would be awake at this hour, he knew, but he hoped to find some servants in the kitchen who might make him some tea. Or at least show him where it was, so he could make it himself—he wasn‘t above boiling some water on his own. But he soon discovered that he wasn‘t the only person awake at that hour. Duchess Barrington was sitting down to breakfast in the large dining room. ―Ah, Mr. Nash,‖ she said cheerfully. ―Do join me.‖ ―I would be delighted, Duchess Barrington.‖ The heavy mahogany table was laid out with tea and scones and crumpets. Andrew had never been fond of eating first thing in the morning, but the tea was just what he needed. Duchess Barrington insisted on pouring for him, and somehow he ended up with a cinnamon scone on his plate, as well.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 23 ―Have you and Thomas made any plans for departing yet?‖ Duchess Barrington asked, getting right to the point. Andrew took a cautious sip of the hot tea before replying. ―We haven‘t had a moment to discuss it. But I imagine His Lordship will be anxious to get underway, as soon as he‘s had some breakfast.‖ ―You are probably correct,‖ the woman replied, looking less than pleased. ―Which is why I need your assistance, Mr. Nash.‖ ―My assistance?‖ ―I‘ve been doing some thinking since last night,‖ she continued, ―and I believe now that my son is correct. Three years is more than sufficient time for this house to be in mourning, and for the sake of my granddaughter, I believe it is high time Barrington Hall celebrated the holidays again.‖ Andrew couldn‘t resist a smile. ―I‘m very pleased to hear that, Duchess Barrington. I hope you and Susan have a very happy Christmas.‖ ―Oh, no, Mr. Nash. You misunderstand me.‖ Andrew had decided to add a pinch more sugar to his cup of Darjeeling, but stopped with his hand on the sugar spoon. ―I am sorely outnumbered in this house,‖ Duchess Barrington stated. ―Against my husband and Edward, I am helpless.‖ That was a bit melodramatic, Andrew thought. After all, there were only two other adults at Barrington Hall, apart from servants. ―Surely not, Duchess Barrington,‖ he said, attempting to be diplomatic. But she would have none of it. ―It‘s true. If I am to have any hope of bringing holiday cheer back to Barrington Hall, I must have you and Thomas as allies.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 24 Andrew slowly added a spoonful of sugar to his cup and stirred it in. ―We can hardly be allies, or anything else,‖ he said cautiously. ―We‘ve been asked to leave.‖ ―I‘m aware of that, Mr. Nash. But I‘m imploring you to keep Thomas here, at all costs.‖ She seemed to think that settled the matter. She lifted the delicate plate of scones and smiled as she held it out to him. Andrew still didn‘t feel like eating anything, but he took one of the scones to appease her. Only then did he remember there was still one on his plate. ―I don‘t think I have much say in the matter,‖ he said. ―His Grace seemed quite adamant about Thomas leaving.‖ Duchess Barrington waved that aside as a matter of little consequence. ―Henry is a stubborn old fool. But I‘m confident Thomas can handle him, if he puts his mind to it.‖ She surprised him by placing a hand over his. ―It‘s clear that you and Thomas are very close.‖ It took all of his effort not to flinch when she said this. But of course she meant that they were close friends. Nothing more. ―If you truly want to help him, Mr. Nash, do not allow Thomas to return to London without reconciling with his father.‖

THOMAS didn‘t precisely stagger downstairs, since he hadn‘t been drinking the night before, but mornings had never suited him. He‘d grown used to having morning tea with Andrew, and had sought out his friend immediately upon awakening. But Andrew hadn‘t been in his room, so Thomas walked down to the main floor, one hand sliding cautiously along the banister,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 25 while he endeavored to wipe the sleep from his eyes with his other hand. To his dismay, he found not only Andrew in the dining room, but also his mother. ―Nice of you to join us, Thomas,‖ Duchess Barrington said primly. He ignored the reprimand in her tone. His mother had never approved of people who slept late, so this was nothing new. Andrew, on the other hand, smiled warmly as Thomas entered the room and sat beside him. ―Tea?‖ Andrew asked, pouring before Thomas could answer. It was a ritual with them—Andrew knew perfectly well that Thomas needed his tea before he could face the day. Thomas was relieved when his mother stood and announced, ―You‘ll have to excuse me. I have some things to attend to. I shall see you both at luncheon.‖ He didn‘t expect to be at Barrington Hall for lunch. As soon as he was conscious, he intended to pack his bags and have Simcox call for a carriage. But he wasn‘t up to arguing with his mother, so he let her go about her business. Andrew put milk and sugar in his tea. As always, Thomas was struck by the feeling of domesticity Andrew engendered in him—as though they were married. The thought was both comforting and disturbing, so Thomas pushed it from his mind. ―Would you like a scone?‖ Andrew asked. Thomas practically snarled at him. ―Don‘t be ridiculous. You know I never touch food first thing in the morning.‖ ―Neither do I,‖ Andrew said, chuckling, ―But somehow I‘ve ended up with two of the beastly things on my plate.‖ They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, as each sipped his tea. Andrew seemed cheerful enough this

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 26 morning, Thomas reflected. Certainly, he must be disappointed that the beautiful country Christmas he‘d fantasized about had fallen flat, but Thomas knew Andrew would never complain about it. He was a good chap. The best. ―Are you nearly packed?‖ Thomas asked. ―Completely.‖ ―Then I shall have someone bring your bags down. Simcox can summon a carriage for us.‖ Andrew seemed to be mulling over something. At last he spoke. ―We should, perhaps, say goodbye to Susan.‖ ―Why?‖ Thomas snapped. ―As you said yourself, I don‘t know her. I‘ve barely spoken ten words to her.‖ ―But she is your niece.‖ Thomas looked at him through sleep-blurred eyes, trying to fathom what was going on behind that quirky smile. Andrew was up to something. He could feel it. But as he could think of no good reason to shun Susan, he replied, ―Very well. We‘ll pop up to the nursery, after I‘ve finished my tea.‖

ANDREW wasn‘t quite sure what visiting Susan would accomplish. But at least it gave him a little time to think. He wasn‘t absolutely certain that Duchess Barrington was correct about forcing a reconciliation between Thomas and the duke. Yes, it would be good for them, if it succeeded. But they were currently living in a state of uneasy truce. If things went badly, Thomas could find himself disinherited. And though Andrew would never let him starve, his interference could easily damage their friendship.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 27 Bother! he thought, as they climbed the main staircase, then the back stairs up to the third floor, God save us both from meddling mothers! The nursery was small, at the back of a hallway which housed several of the servants, including Susan‘s nanny, Katie. Katie was just clearing the dishes from Susan‘s breakfast when they entered, and the little girl herself was seeing to it that her dolls were having their tea and cakes in the corner of the room. Thomas greeted the nanny, and then approached his niece. ―I‘ve come to say goodbye, Susan.‖ Susan was looking angelic this morning, dressed in a frilly white dress, with her startling red hair falling in loose curls on her shoulders, sporting a single white ribbon. Her blue eyes regarded her uncle seriously for a moment, before she replied, ―Goodbye.‖ Uncertain what to say after that, Thomas gave her a brief smile then turned to leave. This wasn‘t going well at all, Andrew reflected. If he didn‘t intervene, they would leave the nursery, go down to the entrance hall, and be spirited back to London by carriage before they knew it. Any chance there was of fixing the rift between Thomas and his father would be gone, as would any opportunity for improving the dreary circumstances Susan was being subjected to by her misguided—though, no doubt loving—father. Then he saw it. Behind the dolls‘ breakfast party, in the dollhouse itself…. ―Is that a tree, Susan?‖ he asked, crouching down to peer inside. The little girl looked startled and glanced at her nanny. ―Yes…,‖ she said reluctantly.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 28 Thomas crouched down, too, to peer into the dollhouse. Behind a miniature of a clavichord was a tiny reproduction of a spruce tree covered in tiny, brightly colored paper and foil ornaments. ―Where on earth did you get that from?‖ the young man asked, his curiosity piqued. Clearly Susan thought she was going to get in trouble. She regarded her uncle with trepidation, refusing to answer, until Katie spoke up. ―I gave that to her, Your Lordship. I‘m very sorry, if I shouldn‘t have.‖ ―No,‖ Thomas said softly, ―that‘s quite all right.‖ Seeing that Thomas was not angry about the little tree, Susan grew a bit bolder. ―Katie says her house always had a tree in it, when she was little.‖ ―Well, not Christmas.‖

always,‖

Katie

said,

laughing,

―only

at

Thomas smiled. ―We had trees in Barrington Hall, as well. Nine of them, if I recall.‖ Susan‘s eyes lit up for the first time since Andrew had met her. ―Nine?‖ ―Mmm-hm. And the front hall and ballroom were adorned with garlands of spruce and balsam and holly. It smelled wonderful!‖ ―But why?‖ ―Why, for Christmas, of course! And there were mince pies and goose and rum punch—well, perhaps not for little girls—‖ But Susan was looking puzzled by all of this. ―What‘s Christmas?‖ That brought Thomas up short. He looked at his niece with an expression of shock. Then, slowly, he stood up.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 29 ―Perhaps it‘s time you found out what Christmas is, poppet.‖ He turned to Andrew. ―I will return shortly. I‘m going to have a word with my tyrant of a father.‖ Andrew watched Thomas take leave of Susan and the nanny, then stride from the room like a soldier marching to battle, and he felt exhilarated. What he had been unable to accomplish, Susan had managed with just a few words. He just wished he could be a fly on the wall when Thomas confronted the duke.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 30

Chapter 5 ACCORDING to Simcox, Duke Barrington often spent his mornings in the kennel, tending to his beloved hounds, so that was where Thomas headed. There was a cool crispness in the morning air as he walked across the wide stable yard, and the dirt under his boots crunched with morning frost. Even without snow, it smelled like Christmas—to those who knew what Christmas was. This was an appalling state of affairs. Never mind the fact that he‘d never met his niece until last night and had no claim on her upbringing. The girl was living a drab, dull existence in a home that had forgotten joy and merriment. Thomas couldn‘t simply turn his back on her, Edward and their father be damned! Thomas was surprised to discover how warm the kennel was, though the overwhelming smell of dog informed him that he was definitely in the right place. The small room was in chaos at the moment, as the hounds fought over their morning meal. Thomas cautiously stepped through them, toward the far end, where he could see the duke tending a wood stove. His father glanced up as he approached and glared at him. ―I believe I told you to leave.‖ Thomas had never stood up to his father before. It had always seemed wiser to rebel in secret and let the stubborn old fool think he was having his way. But it was no longer just Thomas‘s happiness at stake. He steeled himself for a quarrel.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 31 ―You did, Father. But I‘ve come to have a word with you.‖ The duke snorted. ―We have nothing to say to one another.‖ ―I‘m afraid I have a great deal to say,‖ Thomas said, ―about Susan.‖ His father stopped in the process of feeding a split log into the stove and looked up at him again. ―She‘s no concern of yours.‖ ―She‘s a four-year-old girl living in a house with no other children to play with! And she doesn‘t even know what Christmas is!‖ ―Don‘t you raise your voice at me, young man!‖ the duke snarled, brandishing the log at him, as he had his walking stick the night before. ―You know nothing about what goes on in this house. We‘ve not heard a peep from you in six years, and now you come sauntering in like you own the place.‖ Thomas gritted his teeth in frustration, resisting the urge to knock the stick away from his face. ―This has nothing to do with me—‖ ―No, it does not. Susan is Edward‘s daughter—not yours.‖ ―And where is Edward? Christmas is just three days away, and he‘s in London?‖ ―He‘s in London attending to business matters, because he knows the meaning of responsibility!‖ The duke threw the log into the stove and slammed the door shut. For a moment, Thomas thought his father was going to explode, but the man looked at him for an uncomfortably long time, narrowing his eyes. ―I should throw you out on your ear, you shiftless layabout. But I‘ve just thought of a better use for you.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 32 ―What?‖ Thomas responded, taking a step back. It wasn‘t that he feared his father would get violent, but he didn‘t like the look in the man‘s eye. ―You think Barrington Hall should celebrate Christmas this year?‖ the duke snarled, poking at Thomas‘s chest with his index finger. ―All right, then. If you want Christmas, you make Christmas!‖ Thomas was still uncertain what his father meant, but the duke went on, ―You take charge of the decorating. You take charge of the menus and buying everything the cooks need. You take charge of the ball, and the guest list, and the invitations—‖ ―The ball?‖ Thomas gasped in dismay. ―Surely we don‘t need to go that far! Susan is much too young for a ball.‖ Duke Barrington laughed unpleasantly. ―Oh no. You don‘t come into my house, telling me how to run things, then do a slapdash job of it yourself! If you want Christmas at Barrington Hall, you‘ll do it yourself and you‘ll do it right! You‘ve been costing me a fortune for years, while you‘ve gadded about London with your friends. Now, for once, you‘re going to show some responsibility! I expect Barrington Hall to shine this Christmas. Or it will be the last you ever see of it.‖ The man began to turn back to the fire but thought better of it. With a faint smile coming to his face that gave Thomas a chill, he added, ―And while we‘re at it, let‘s make this a wager. If you succeed, I‘ll raise your allowance—just a small amount, mind you. But if you fail you‘ll never see another penny from me.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 33

Chapter 6 ANDREW had asked Katie if it would be all right to take Susan outside for a bit. From what the little girl told him, she was seldom allowed out alone, especially in the winter weather. Some fresh air might do her good. Bundled up in her overcoat and bonnet, Susan looked very prim and reminded Andrew a bit too much of a diminutive schoolmistress. But her face lit up as they walked through the back garden and Andrew pointed out the birds and squirrels scurrying about, gathering food for the winter ahead. ―Look,‖ he said, pointing, ―there‘s a starling. My grandmother always disliked them.‖ ―Why?‖ Susan asked. Andrew shrugged. ―I‘m not sure, really. Perhaps because there were so many of them.‖ ―Well, I think they‘re pretty.‖ In a way, Andrew had to admit, the birds were pretty, with white speckles against a dark, metallic brown. ―Yes, I suppose they are.‖ ―Come on, Uncle Andrew,‖ the little girl ordered, tugging him off in a new direction. ―Let me show you the pond!‖ He hadn‘t suggested she call him ―uncle,‖ but he found it endearing and made no attempt to correct her. He let her pull him along the pebbled path, until they came to a small fishpond. Or he presumed it was a fishpond. At this time of year, it was empty.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 34 ―There are two ducks here in the summer,‖ Susan commented, then added, ―one is nice. But the other one always tries to bite me.‖ ―Perhaps he thinks you have food.‖ ―Andrew! There you are!‖ The voice belonged to Thomas. Andrew and Susan turned to see the man walking hurriedly toward them along the path. His expression looked dark, and Andrew feared the worst. ―Have we been thrown out?‖ Andrew asked. ―Again?‖ ―Worse!‖ Thomas replied, looking exasperated. ―We‘ve been asked—no, ordered—to throw a Christmas ball.‖

THOMAS was glad Andrew and his mother found all of this amusing. He did not. It would have been one thing to throw some evergreens up in the main hall and put up a tree. But a ball! And in only two days. It was impossible! ―It isn‘t impossible,‖ Duchess Barrington said, laughing, ―we shall simply have to be quick about it. Though the idea of a Christmas ball, at this stage of the game, is simply absurd. Anybody who would attend such an affair has no doubt already made other plans.‖ Thomas groaned. ―Father was adamant about there being a ball. We‘ll have to have one, whether or not anyone attends.‖ ―No,‖ Duchess Barrington said firmly, ―I won‘t be made a laughing stock, regardless of what your father says.‖ Thomas started to protest, but she raised a hand to silence him. ―We‘ll throw a Christmas Eve dance.‖ ―Pardon me, Duchess Barrington,‖ Andrew interjected, ―but isn‘t a ball a dance?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 35 ―I mean a dance, Mr. Nash. For all of the tenants of Barrington. With country dancing and music and a tremendous banquet!‖ ―Don‘t you think the local villagers might have Christmas Eve plans as well?‖ She sniffed. ―I‘m sure they do, Mr. Nash. But if the finest food and drink that Barrington Hall has to offer isn‘t enough to entice a good number of them away from the pubs, we are truly beyond hope.‖ Thomas didn‘t share his mother‘s conviction that an overblown affair at the hall would entice the locals away from a pleasant Christmas Eve at their favorite pub or church. If he had his choice, he might prefer to be in a pub at this very moment, drinking in the holiday with Andrew…. He forced his thoughts to return to what he was doing. ―Very well, Mother,‖ he said, deciding her plan was at least better than anything he had to offer. ―You two get on with the rest of it. I shall take care of sending out the invitations.‖ ―We shall venture out into the woods and fetch some greenery.‖ He was annoyed when this produced further laughter from his mother. ―Oh dear,‖ Duchess Barrington said, ―you really are new to this.‖ Thomas raised an eyebrow at her until she continued, ―My dear Thomas, you are about to put on a major function at the hall. Don‘t you think the staff should be alerted and given instruction?‖ Of course. He was irritated that he hadn‘t thought of it, but of course he was new to running a household. He‘d never

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 36 before had to worry about the details of how things got done at Barrington. He summoned Simcox with the pull cord near the fireplace and, when the butler appeared, said, ―Simcox, will you please ask all of the household staff to assemble in the entrance hall?‖ ―Immediately, sir?‖ the old manservant inquired. ―As soon as possible.‖ ―Yes, sir. I shall inform you when they are assembled.‖ ―Thank you.‖ There were approximately thirty servants assembled in the hall about twenty minutes later, when Simcox came to summon him. ―I understand this is very sudden,‖ Thomas began, feeling self-conscious under their curious gazes. ―But I know we can count on you all to give it your best effort.‖ He realized they were still looking very puzzled. ―What I‘m getting at is… we have decided that it is high time Barrington Hall came out of mourning for our dear, departed Lady Anne. It is time to dress the hall for the holidays and put on a proper celebration. There will be Christmas at Barrington Hall this year.‖ A spontaneous burst of applause followed this, giving him a bit more confidence. He glanced at Andrew, who was smiling at him, Susan somehow having gravitated to his side. The girl seemed perfectly at ease with her hand in Andrew‘s, and the image made Thomas feel unaccountably warm inside. Andrew had a natural affinity for children. He would probably make a good father someday. Thomas turned back to those gathered before him. ―I know this means a lot of work for everybody. There‘s very little time.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 37 Simcox took a step forward. ―Might I say something, Your Lordship?‖ ―Certainly, Simcox.‖ ―I think I can speak for all here when I say we are delighted to hear this news. And we will be happy to do whatever you deem necessary, sir. Just give the orders.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 38

Chapter 7 ANDREW insisted on bringing Susan with them on their evergreen-gathering adventure. This delayed things a short time, while Katie bundled the little girl into layers of coats, scarves, boots and mittens, but Thomas didn‘t complain. They also brought two of the houseboys with them—a pair of teenaged twins named Hew and Duncan. The boys did much of the work, truthfully, leading a small, pony-pulled cart along a riding path in the woods and climbing trees to cut down spruce and pine boughs. Andrew and Thomas did try to do some of the climbing themselves, but Duncan chided them for it. ―Begging your pardon, Your Lordships, but we can hardly have two fine gentlemen like yourselves gettin‘ sticky sap all over your good clothes, now can we?‖ ―Really, Duncan,‖ Andrew protested, ―We don‘t mind. And we don‘t want you to do all the hard work yourselves.‖ ―Never you mind, sir. We enjoy it.‖ Andrew looked to Thomas for help, but the man merely smiled and shook his head. Apparently, things were done a certain way at Barrington Hall, and there was no help for it. Some of the other servants had been sent out to chop down large trees for the entrance hall and the ballroom, and the forest was alive this morning with the sound of cheerful voices calling out to one another.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 39 Susan was excited by the expedition, but she was still confused. ―Why are we bringing trees inside?‖ she asked, ―Won‘t they make an awful mess?‖ ―One can hope,‖ Thomas said under his breath, a mischievous smile illuminating his handsome face. Andrew glanced away, fearing that he might betray his affections. Instead, he said to Susan, ―We bring evergreen boughs inside at Christmas, because they are beautiful and they smell fresh and wonderful.‖ Susan still looked skeptical, incredulously, ―Is that all?‖

and

Thomas

asked

Andrew laughed. ―Well, it‘s a very ancient tradition. I suppose there might be some other reason for it, but I‘m not certain what it is.‖ ―Mum says it‘s a symbol of the baby Jesus,‖ Hew commented. Thomas raised an eyebrow at the boy. ―Is it? How so?‖ Hew shrugged. ―Can‘t rightly say as I know.‖ ―Truthfully, sir,‖ Duncan said, ―Our mum thinks everything‘s a symbol of the baby Jesus. ‗Specially at this time of year.‖ Thomas laughed and shook his head, scooping Susan off the ground in the same motion to lift her over the small, frozen brook that cut across the path. ―I think Andrew‘s answer shall have to stand, for now. Perhaps Katie will have a better one when we get back to the hall. ―I‘ve almost forgotten,‖ he added, putting the little girl down on the other side of the brook, ―We have one very special tree to find—the Yule log.‖ ―What‘s a Yule log?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 40 Once again, Thomas looked to Andrew, so the blond replied, ―It‘s the biggest fallen log we can find, Susan. It needs to be tremendous, so it will burn in the fireplace for the entire celebration.‖ ―Why is it called a Yule log?‖ ―Well, because we also call Christmas ‗Yule‘—please don‘t ask me why.‖ Thomas and the brothers laughed at him, but Susan just looked up at him with those serious eyes. He was beginning to fear that the child never laughed. Susan did seem to enjoy the game of Find-the-Yule-Log, pointing out every fallen log she found, though most were far from suitable. The men played along to keep the game lively, but more often than not pointed to rocks or standing trees, so Susan could reproach them for their poor eyesight. At last, the girl found a large fallen oak tree that Thomas pronounced absolutely perfect, and they were allowed to head back to the hall, after marking it with one of Thomas‘s handkerchiefs. None too soon, by Andrew‘s estimate, as Susan was beginning to shiver. Thomas picked her up and carried her, trying to keep her warm at the same time. She had begged to ride the pony, but the poor animal seemed to be having enough difficulty with the cartload of tree branches as it was. It was just as they were leaving the woods for the open field behind the manor house that Hew spotted something in one of the tall oaks a short distance from the path. ―Hold on!‖ He tromped through the undergrowth, then scrambled up the trunk, until he was within reach of a large growth of mistletoe suspended in the branches. Hew broke off several sprigs of the plant and dropped down to the ground with an

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 41 agility Andrew had to admire. The boy trotted back to them, holding his prize proudly in one hand. ―Mistletoe, m‘lord!‖ ―Yes,‖ Thomas responded with amusement, ―I can see that.‖ ―What?‖ Susan asked. ―What is it?‖ Hew looked shocked. ―You‘ve never heard of mistletoe?‖ When she shook her head, he came closer, pulling one of the sprigs out and holding it over her head. ―It‘s a very magical plant, milady.‖ ―Magical?‖ ―Yes, milady,‖ Hew said earnestly, ―if someone stands underneath it, they got to be kissed.‖ Susan looked skeptical. ―Why?‖ ―It‘s very bad luck, if they‘re not.‖ It was then that the little girl noticed the mistletoe being dangled above her head. She wasn‘t actually standing, as Thomas still held her in his arms. But her eyes went wide nonetheless, no doubt contemplating the ill luck this would bring her. The servant boy ducked in and landed a quick peck on her cheek. ―No fear, Miss Susan. I‘ve saved you!‖ She giggled, the closest thing to a laugh Andrew had heard from her. He could have hugged the boy, at that moment. Duncan looked scandalized that his brother would be so familiar with a member of the duke‘s family, but Thomas merely laughed and told Hew, ―You, sir, are a scoundrel.‖

WHEN they returned to the hall, wagon overflowing with evergreens, Thomas saw that the staff had been busy in his absence, cleaning the entrance hall and the other rooms on the first floor. Charlotte practically shrieked when Hew and

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 42 Duncan began carrying the evergreens in, tracking mud through the great hall, but Simcox calmed her. Katie was waiting by the door to take Susan in hand. The girl was badly in need of a warm fire and a nap, by this point, but she still protested at being taken from her uncle. ―Don‘t you worry,‖ Thomas reassured her, ―Andrew and I will come fetch you when it‘s time to hang the ribbons.‖ The cook had apparently been busy, as well, because she was waiting to present Thomas with a list of items she‘d been unable to find in the larders—things she assured him she absolutely had to have, if she were to prepare a banquet for the Christmas Eve dance. The list was substantial, but the large woman had such an expression of panic on her face, he didn‘t think it wise to argue He did, however, have to ask, ―Is there any place nearby that can supply these items? We don‘t have time to travel far.‖ ―There‘s a local grocer in the village, Your Lordship,‖ she replied, anxiously worrying her apron with her heavy hands. ―With your permission, I can send some of the kitchen help into town.‖ ―That shouldn‘t be necessary, Georgina. I‘ll be happy to run into town. Simcox? May we borrow Hew and Duncan and the cart again?‖ Andrew joined them, as Thomas had known he would. Had his friend not been there, Thomas was certain he‘d be as panicstricken as the cook. But somehow Andrew calmed him and made it all seem manageable. Andrew quietly pointed out, when they arrived in the center of Barrington Village, that none of them had had a moment to eat since breakfast, and it was now well past midday. Thomas suspected this was more for the benefit of the boys, rather than Andrew himself, though neither of them had

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 43 complained at all. When the idea was broached, Duncan enthusiastically directed them to a local pub. After an unsophisticated but excellent meal of bangers and mash, the four of them practically cleaned out the local grocers. Hew and Duncan took it upon themselves to inform everyone they met about the dance at Barrington Hall, even though the invitations hadn‘t yet gone out, which delayed them a good bit. But Thomas didn‘t mind. He was having a better time today than he‘d had since he was a boy. By the time they got back to the hall, the servants had strung up the evergreen boughs and had begun decorating with ornaments retrieved from the attic. The portrait of Anne still adorned one of the mantels, but the hideous black garland had been replaced by much more festive balsam. Susan was awake again and ran up to her uncle and Andrew the moment they entered the hall. ―You said you would wake me when you put the ribbons up,‖ she accused them, while taking them each by a hand and tugging them inside. ―But I don‘t see any ribbons,‖ Andrew observed. ―Not yet!‖ the little girl said, clearly exasperated. Simcox approached, looking amused. ―The ribbons have been kept aside, sir, awaiting your return.‖ Thomas laughed and scooped his niece up in his arms. ―There now, you see? Nothing to worry about. Come along, Andrew. We‘ve ribbons to do battle with.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 44

Chapter 8 AFTER Susan had tired of hanging ribbons on the evergreen boughs, and the hall was looking lavish with red and gold Christmas ribbons and ornaments, and not one but two towering Christmas trees, Katie escorted Susan up to the nursery for dinner. Andrew followed Thomas into the dining room, where both Duchess Barrington and Duke Barrington awaited them. Andrew could sense Thomas growing tense at the sight of his father, but he took his seat without a word, Andrew sitting across from him. For a long time, nobody said anything, as Simcox ladled out a rich vegetable soup in front of each of them. ―The decorations are coming along beautifully, Thomas,‖ Duchess Barrington said cheerfully when the silence had grown oppressive. ―Thank you, Mother.‖ The duke harrumphed. ―Though I‘m not quite sure how our Christmas ball became a Christmas dance.‖ Andrew saw Thomas grit his teeth, but he managed to answer calmly. ―It‘s far too late to put on a ball, father.‖ ―The dance was my idea,‖ Duchess Barrington interjected. ―The wager was for a Christmas ball.‖ ―Then I‘m changing the wager,‖ his wife said dismissively. ―It will be a grand time, Henry. Don‘t be a lump.‖ The duke glared at his wife, but apparently he knew when he was beaten. He remained silent through the rest of the meal,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 45 apart from the occasional grumbled comment in response to something Duchess Barrington said. Thomas wasn‘t particularly talkative, either. But his mother managed to keep the conversation going with Andrew‘s assistance. After dinner—a dinner sorely underappreciated, for all of the work Cook put into it—Thomas and Andrew retired to their rooms. ―Your father seems to have mellowed a bit,‖ Andrew commented, as they stood in the hallway outside his door. ―Don‘t believe it for a second,‖ Thomas replied. ―He never gives in. The old bugger is up to something.‖ Andrew smiled at that. ―Well, are you coming in, then?‖ ―I think I‘ll have hot water brought up for a bath,‖ Thomas said, leaning his head wearily against the door frame, ―Would you care to join me for a brandy?‖ Andrew laughed. ―In the bath?‖ ―No,‖ Thomas replied with a tired smile, ―that isn‘t precisely what I meant.‖ A short time later, Andrew was sitting in his dressing gown, sipping a brandy near the tub in Thomas‘s room. This, too, had become a ritual with them, back at the University Club—one of them bathing, while the other sat nearby, enjoying one of their lengthy philosophical conversations. But Thomas didn‘t appear to be feeling philosophical tonight. He sat in the water, steam billowing about him, sipping his own brandy snifter and brooding. After a couple glasses, he was beginning to get a little tipsy. ―I really don‘t see that we‘ll have any attendance at the dance, at all. It‘s going to be an unqualified disaster.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 46 ―We shall see,‖ Andrew replied. He was used to Thomas‘s dark moods, and knew not to take them overly seriously. ―Have the invitations gone out yet?‖ ―No!‖ Thomas gestured dramatically with his glass, splashing some brandy into the tub. ―That‘s part of the problem. Henrietta is still preparing them.‖ ―Who is Henrietta?‖ Andrew looked at him quizzically. ―I thought your mother said she would take care of it.‖ ―She did take care of it—by ordering Henrietta to do it. She‘s my mother‘s personal secretary.‖ ―I see where your streak of industriousness comes from.‖ Thomas smirked at him. ―Are you disparaging my mother, blackguard?‖ ―Of course not. I would never—‖ Before he could finish, Thomas had staggered to his feet, a bit tipsy and dripping with water. He brandished his snifter at his friend like a weapon. ―If I weren‘t a bit drunk—and naked— I would call you out, scoundrel.‖ Andrew laughed, but he found the sight of Thomas‘s naked crotch so near, and at eye level, extremely disconcerting. He set his glass down on the floor, then stood to take Thomas‘s out of his hand. The man offered no resistance. ―Sit down, you fool, before you slip and break your neck.‖ ―The water is getting cold, at any rate.‖ ―Then let me help you out,‖ Andrew said, slipping his arms underneath Thomas‘s armpits. Thomas wrapped his own arms around Andrew‘s shoulders in a soaking wet embrace, allowing his friend to half lift him out of the metal tub. Andrew found Thomas‘s towel and wrapped it around him before settling the man on the chair he‘d been using himself. Then he held out his arms, taking in the sodden arms of his

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 47 dressing gown. ―Well, that ends my evening. I think I shall retire to my room and crawl into a nice dry bed.‖ He wasn‘t certain whether Thomas would find his way to bed, if he left, or simply fall asleep in the chair. So he helped his friend up again, made certain he was reasonably dry—at least so far as his sense of honor would allow—then helped Thomas climb into his own bed. ―There you go.‖ ―Andrew, you are the best friend a man could ever ask for.‖ Andrew smiled, feeling self-conscious. ―Everybody‘s a bosom friend when you‘re drunk.‖ ―I‘m not that drunk,‖ Thomas protested, ―and I mean it. You‘re wonderful, and I adore you.‖ That made Andrew even more uncomfortable. He smiled faintly and permitted himself a light brush of his fingers along Thomas‘s forehead and cheek—to brush the hair out of his eyes, he told himself. ―Sleep well.‖ Then he went back to his room. He doubted he would sleep well. Not after that. Oh, why did Thomas have to be so prone to these bouts of melancholic affection? They made Andrew‘s life agony.

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Chapter 9 THOMAS woke at an unusually early hour. At least, it was early for him. No doubt his mother was already awake and feeling primly virtuous on account of it. He remembered last night and felt supremely ashamed of himself. Not only had he put Andrew in the position of having to aid him in a very intimate way that one gentleman would never ask of another, soaking Andrew‘s evening gown in the process, but he‘d said… what? That he adored him? It was true. He did adore Andrew. His affection for the gentleman was genuine and deep in a way that Thomas had difficulty finding words for. But saying so out loud had been vulgar. It had clearly made Andrew uncomfortable. If I don’t stop putting the poor man in these awkward positions, I shall lose him forever! The thought was unbearable. Andrew was irreplaceable. Thomas would just as soon cut off one of his own legs than find himself without the man‘s companionship. He splashed clean water on his face from the washbasin and ran a comb through his hair. He rather enjoyed the decadent feeling of padding about his room naked, but eventually he dressed and went to the door that connected the two rooms. There was no answer to his light knock, so he let himself in. Andrew was still asleep in the large four-poster, so Thomas sat on the edge of the bed and nudged his friend‘s shoulder.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 49 The blond stirred, then opened his eyes to look up at him, somewhat surprised. ―Thomas? Have I overslept? You never wake before I do.‖ Thomas laughed. ―No, you haven‘t overslept. It‘s appallingly early. But I should like your assistance this morning.‖ ―With what?‖ ―I‘ve decided that the best way to stir up enthusiasm for the dance tomorrow night is to deliver the invitations in person,‖ Thomas announced. Andrew blinked at him for a moment. ―Yes. I suppose that might encourage some of the locals to attend.‖ ―We‘ll take the twins with us, as well. They seem to know everyone in the village.‖ ―A splendid idea.‖ Thomas stood to allow his friend to sit up, setting his bare feet upon the carpet. After a moment‘s silence, Thomas felt he had to address his behavior of the night before. ―Andrew… I hope I wasn‘t too awful last night.‖ Andrew looked up at him, startled. ―Awful? In what way?‖ ―Well, obviously we should never touch each other in so intimate a fashion. It was very inappropriate for me to require it of you.‖ He had hoped Andrew would accept his apology gracefully, but instead the young man looked irritated. ―That‘s quite all right.‖ ―And of course I should never have said… what I did,‖ Thomas pushed, desperately hoping to find the right words. What did Andrew want him to say? He would say or do anything to make it better. If he only knew what was needed.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 50 Apparently, he had failed again. For Andrew looked even more put out now than he had a moment ago. ―Perhaps we should simply not speak of it.‖ ―Of course. I‘m very sorry.‖ He considered leaving while Andrew dressed, but his friend seemed to shrug off his foul mood after splashing some water on his face. ―Hand me a towel, please.‖ Thomas did so, and was rewarded with one of Andrew‘s sardonic smiles. Perhaps he was forgiven. It surprised Thomas to realize how much that mattered to him. ―Will we be bringing Susan along?‖ Andrew asked him. Thomas raised his eyebrows. ―I‘m ashamed to admit I hadn‘t thought of it.‖ ―You‘re a terrible uncle.‖ It was intended as teasing, Thomas knew, and he took it as such. ―I am. Simply horrid. But I‘m the only uncle the girl has, so she shall have to make do.‖ ―Then we‘ll take her along?‖ ―Of course. If she wants to go.‖ Andrew ran a comb through his golden curls. ―Of course she will. Especially with the twins along.‖ Yes, Thomas thought. Somehow, after only a day together, the thought of it was beginning to feel natural—him and Andrew, the twins and Susan. Almost like a family. Much more so than his parents and Edward ever had been. ―This is turning into quite an expedition,‖ Thomas commented. ―Finish dressing, then. I‘ll go fetch the little moppet and meet you downstairs.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 51 ANDREW had hoped to avoid Duchess Barrington this morning, but the duchess was already having her tea in the dining room, and she called to him as he passed by. ―Mr. Nash. Won‘t you join me?‖ ―Good morning, Duchess Barrington. I would love to, but your son has got it into his head to go into town this morning.‖ The woman waved this aside as of no consequence. ―He can wait. You simply must have your morning tea. Running off without it is positively uncivilized.‖ Not in the mood to argue, Andrew sat down at the table and allowed her to pour for him. Once the aromatic steam hit his nostrils, he realized he did in fact want tea. ―Now,‖ Duchess Barrington said, passing him the sugar, ―What are you and Thomas up to?‖ ―Thomas wants to deliver the invitations to the dance, in person.‖ Duchess Barrington‘s eyebrows went up in surprise. ―Really? That‘s unusually industrious of him, isn‘t it?‖ ―Oh yes, Your Grace,‖ Andrew replied, laughing, ―It‘s very unusual.‖ ―Well, you shall have to speak to Henrietta before you leave. She‘s been making up the invitations. And you and Thomas need to see what can be done about hiring musicians. I haven‘t the faintest idea how one goes about hiring local musicians. We‘ve always brought them in from London, but there simply isn‘t time to do so for this dance.‖ Between retrieving the invitations, rousing the twins, and making certain that Susan was properly bundled up for a day out in the cold, it was nearly an hour before the expedition to Barrington was properly on its way.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 52 ―Lud!‖ Thomas complained, sitting beside Andrew in the carriage. ―Why is it that nothing can ever be done quickly around here?‖ Andrew shrugged good-naturedly, then noticed Susan practically standing in her seat beside Hew and Duncan to look out the window. ―Sit down, please, Susan. Hew, please make sure she stays seated.‖ They were sitting in a proper carriage this time, protected from the elements. But that didn‘t mean the little girl couldn‘t get bounced around if they hit a rut in the dirt road. ―I‘m trying, sir. Here now,‖ Hew told Susan, ―sit in my lap if you want to see out the window.‖ Susan did as she was told. ―Duncan is sleeping,‖ she said, a moment later. Hew made a rude noise. ―That‘s ‘cause he‘s a lazy sod.‖ ―I‘ll thank you not to use such language around my niece,‖ Thomas said, though Andrew could hear the humorous undertone in his voice. ―Begging disrespect.‖

your

pardon,

Your

Lordship.

I

meant

no

Susan looked back and forth between the two of them for a moment, a puzzled expression on her face, then asked her uncle, ―What‘s a sod?‖ ―Never you mind. Duncan may sleep until we reach Barrington, then we‘ll wake him.‖ It was no longer very early by most people‘s standards— though Thomas still felt he should be in bed—by the time they reached the town. Andrew had been reading the names off the invitations to Hew so that the boy could help him sort them by which houses were next to each other. As in most villages, the streets of Barrington were crowded with dwellings and shops. It

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 53 would have been ludicrous to use the carriage while visiting. It would have done them little good, and probably blocked the streets. So they had the coachman wait for them on the comparatively wide main street, while they walked, taking turns carrying Susan when she tired. The townspeople looked genuinely shocked when they opened their doors to find Lord Barrington standing there. But Thomas surprised Andrew by being charming. It wasn‘t that Thomas couldn‘t be charming—indeed, Andrew often found him very much so. But Thomas was generally disinclined to be social. In the five years he‘d lived at the University Club, he‘d made only a few casual acquaintances. And Andrew was his only true friend. Yet here the young lord was, doffing his hat and putting on a dazzling white smile as he handed over one of the invitations. ―I do hope I‘m not disturbing you,‖ he was saying, ―but we‘re throwing a dance at the hall tomorrow evening—Christmas Eve. Very informal. I realize you may have already made plans—I do apologize for the short notice. But if you possibly have the time, I would consider it an honor if you and your lovely wife could join us.‖ He must sincerely want the dance to be a success, Andrew thought. Was it all for Susan? Or love of Christmas? He suspected not. For all of his apparent contempt of his father, Thomas seemed to be struggling with a need to please the man. If the dance wasn‘t a success, Andrew had an unpleasant feeling that the two would never be able to reconcile. The duke would continue to regard his youngest son as lazy and good for nothing. And Thomas might give up trying to please the old goat. House after house; shop after shop, they went. Most of the townspeople seemed to be shocked that someone from the

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 54 manor would bother to visit them in person. And this was paying off. Thomas‘s friendliness and lack of arrogance soon had people smiling and chatting amicably about what to wear and would children be welcome? Thomas assured them that children would certainly be welcome, and Susan was becoming visibly excited at the prospect of other children to play with. The pretty little girl did her own share of charming, as well. Andrew hadn‘t wanted to bring her for that reason—he‘d genuinely thought Susan needed more time with her uncle, and an adventure, as well. But he‘d also known she would lend an air of respectability to the proceedings. And what they lacked in respectability, the twins more than made up for in joviality and trustworthiness. They were familiar faces to nearly everyone in town, and their presence no doubt helped a great deal. As much as a lord from the manor might make everyone feel they had to be on their best behavior, Hew and Duncan put them all at ease. It was a pleasant day, with a brief stop at the local pub for luncheon and to allow Susan to warm herself by the fire. This ended up dragging on, as Thomas and the boys discussed the dance with the patrons and found some musicians willing to play at the dance. ―Here now!‖ the owner of the pub, a burly man with whiskers to rival Father Christmas himself, exclaimed. ―Joe, you‘re promised to play here on Christmas Eve!‖ ―I‘m sorry about that, Ned,‖ the fiddler replied, looking sheepish, ―I really am. But His Lordship here is offering to pay me four times what I‘d be able to make playin‘ here.‖ His friend, a piper by the name of Derrick, nodded in agreement. ―Well, that‘s loyalty for you,‖ Ned said, disgusted. ―Leaving me high and dry! I should call in your tab for that. Both of you!‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 55 ―Gentlemen,‖ Thomas intervened before things got ugly. ―I‘m distressed to be the cause of trouble, when I‘m merely attempting to arrange a good time for all of us. My good man, please, I‘d very much like it if you could attend the dance, as well. Isn‘t there some kind of amicable arrangement we could come to?‖ There was, though it cost Thomas a great deal to get Ned to agree to close the pub for the night. But no matter—they now had their musicians. Late in the afternoon, they left town in the carriage and rode around to some of the nearby farms. The estate was quite large, and there simply wasn‘t time to stop at every out-of-theway farmhouse. But they visited as many as they could, encouraging all to extend the invitation to their neighbors, before the sun began to sink in the sky. Susan had fallen asleep in Andrew‘s lap by that point. ―I would suggest we head back, so Susan can nap properly,‖ he told Thomas. ―Very well,‖ his friend replied. ―Then we can have dinner. I‘m famished.‖ When they arrived at the hall, Hew and Duncan ran find their own dinner, and Andrew carried Susan up the into the hall. Thomas had stopped just inside the main which forced Andrew to step around him. Then he saw Thomas was gaping at.

off to steps door, what

―Father!‖ Susan cried, suddenly wriggling to be set down, all trace of sleepiness gone. Andrew lowered the little girl to the floor, and she ran across the great hall, weaving in and out of the servants bustling throughout the room, to throw her arms around the legs of a tall, chestnut-haired man.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 56 This, then, must be Edward, Andrew thought. The resemblance to Thomas was unmistakable. A bit taller, perhaps, handsome, but with features much more severe than Thomas‘s. Edward took little notice of his daughter, barely patting her head with one hand, as he glared at his younger brother. ―Father told me you‘d come.‖ Thomas merely nodded without saying anything. Edward glanced down at Susan and said, ―Go up to the nursery, Susan. I shall come up to see you after I‘ve spoken with your Uncle Thomas.‖ The girl‘s expression turned solemn, and for that alone Andrew wished he might knock her father silly. But he had no say here. When his daughter had gone upstairs, Edward said, ―Thomas, I wish to speak to you in my study. Alone.‖

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Chapter 10 ―YOU are in no position to criticize the way I raise my daughter!‖ ―No,‖ Thomas replied coolly, ―I‘m not. What I am in a position to do is ask you what in blazes you‘ve done to Barrington Hall? When I lived here, Christmas was a time of celebration and music. The Barrington Ball was one of the annual highlights of the county!‖ Edward gave him a smoldering look. ―I think the county can survive with one less ball.‖ ―No doubt. But why?‖ Thomas poured himself another splash of wine. He preferred brandy, but he needed his head clear, if he was going to deal with Edward‘s pigheadedness. His older brother was far too much like their father. ―I don‘t see any reason why we must throw a ball,‖ Edward said. ―Because Barrington Hall has thrown a Christmas ball for the past four hundred years,‖ Thomas replied, exasperated. ―It‘s tradition!‖ Edward sighed and sat down in one of the stuffed chairs near the fireplace. ―You‘ve never lost a wife, Thomas.‖ Suddenly, all of the fight seemed to have gone out of him. He stared into the fire, lost in unhappy memories. Thomas sat opposite him, uncertain what to say. At last, he spoke softly. ―No, Edward, I haven‘t. I‘m sorry about Anne. I really am. I… didn‘t know her well, but she seemed like a wonderful woman.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 58 ―Yes,‖ Edward agreed, ―she was. Too good for the likes of me.‖ This seemed an odd thing for Edward to say, but he looked so morose that Thomas didn‘t have the heart to prod him about it. There was another long silence between them before Edward said, ―It just didn‘t seem appropriate to celebrate, with Anne gone.‖ ―But three years, Edward? How long can you keep Susan in mourning?‖ Thomas half expected his brother to snap at him again, but Edward simply said, ―She doesn‘t even remember her mother.‖ Thomas didn‘t have a response for this. He wouldn‘t expect Susan to remember the mother who had died when she was less than a year old. Edward heaved himself up out of the chair with a heavy sigh. ―It‘s late. I should spend some time with Susan before dinner.‖ As he reached the door, Thomas called after him, ―Will you allow the dance to go off, Edward?‖ Edward hesitated. ―It appears Mother has her heart set on it.‖ ―So does Susan. And from what I saw today, many of the villagers may be planning on it, as well.‖ ―Very well,‖ Edward relented, ―we‘ll have a dance.‖ He gave his younger brother just the faintest of smiles, before walking out of the room.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 59 DINNER that evening was a tedious affair, brightened only by the delicious holiday fare coming from the kitchen—spicy glazed ham, scalloped potatoes, and fresh rolls. The duke and his eldest son conversed about business affairs in London, while Thomas and Andrew did their best not to appear bored. Every once in a while, Duchess Barrington would interject something about how wonderful the meal was, or how much she wished it might snow. But nobody seemed inclined to discuss the dance, as though afraid of starting a quarrel. ―So,‖ Andrew asked Thomas when they had retired to Thomas‘s room much later, ―was that your father‘s great plan? To summon Edward home in the hopes of sabotaging your Christmas dance?‖ Thomas laughed. ―When you put it that way, it does seem rather ludicrous. I don‘t think that can be all. I can‘t imagine Father relying on anything so dubious.‖ Andrew laid a card on the table between them—the ace of hearts. ―Are you so certain he‘s planning something?‖ ―The old goat is nothing, if not manipulative,‖ Thomas said. ―Did I ever tell you the cause of our argument?‖ ―You told me you refused to marry the woman he‘d chosen for you.‖ ―Quite a lovely young woman too,‖ Thomas replied, dropping the two of hearts on top of the first card, then scooping both up. ―Her name was Rebecca.‖ Though the thought of Thomas with a woman made Andrew‘s stomach tie itself in knots, he felt compelled to ask, ―If you found her so lovely, why didn‘t you marry her?‖ Thomas laughed and took a sip of his brandy before answering. ―What a wretched thought! I have absolutely no interest in being married—to any woman.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 60 Andrew struggled not to read too much into that. There were, after all, many confirmed bachelors at the club. And none, to the best of Andrew‘s knowledge, were… of his sort. He smiled at Thomas affectionately, the warming effects of the brandy making him less cautious than he normally would be. ―That‘s hardly any way for the son of a duke to be talking. Don‘t you have an obligation to have an heir? To perpetuate the family line?‖ Thomas sighed and downed the remainder of his brandy. ―No. That‘s up to Edward. And I‘m tired of being the son of a duke. I would love nothing more than to go back to our rooms at the club, and never see this drafty old hall again. I could stay there for the rest of my days, drinking good brandy and playing cards with you until we both expire of old age.‖ It didn‘t sound like such a bad life to Andrew, either. But he had to point out, ―You‘re the one who got your father and everyone else in the hall stirred up about Christmas.‖ ―Bother! Someone had to stand up for Susan. And you, as well.‖ Andrew laughed. ―Me? Thomas regarded him with a wounded expression. ―Really, Andrew. I should think you‘d know by now how important your happiness is to me.‖ Lud, he really was drunk. ―Consideration for others? If you‘re not careful, Thomas, you‘ll find yourself becoming a decent person. I shan‘t be able to recognize you.‖ Thomas smirked at him, then tossed his cards on the table and stood up, stretching as he walked over to his bed. ―I‘m bored with cards.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 61 Alternative activities flashed through Andrew‘s mind, proving to him that he‘d had a bit too much to drink himself. Thank God he wasn‘t more drunk than he was, or he might say something disastrous. Thomas sat down on the edge of the mattress and stuck his foot out. ―Help me with my boots, will you?‖ It wasn‘t a request one gentleman would generally make of another. But Andrew had spoiled Thomas for years now, allowing—even encouraging—him to behave inappropriately when they were alone together. Andrew knew it wasn‘t solely for Thomas‘s benefit. He liked being relied upon; liked being asked to do things normally only asked of a personal valet. He liked the intimacy of it. He knelt by the bedside, unlaced the boot, and removed it. Then when Thomas presented him with the other one, he removed that, as well. Thomas lay back on the bed, making room for Andrew to perch beside him. Almost without thinking, the blond reached out to undo Thomas‘s cravat. The man made no move to stop him, merely watching him quietly with those soft green eyes. ―Perhaps it‘s time for me to retire,‖ Andrew said reluctantly. The brandy seemed to be going to his head more than he‘d realized. He was feeling very warm. But Thomas lifted a hand and placed it over his, where he was still holding onto Thomas‘s collar. Those beautiful green eyes met his, and Andrew‘s breath caught in his throat. ―There‘s never been a friend like you, Andrew,‖ Thomas said, almost in a whisper. Perhaps it was the brandy, but Andrew fancied he could see in those eyes something beyond friendship, an intense longing equal to his own. He leaned in close, half expecting Thomas to pull away. But he didn‘t, and in a moment their lips

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 62 were touching. For a brief time, Andrew was happier than he‘d ever thought possible. His heart felt as if all the love he‘d been keeping in check for years was beginning to pour forth into this one kiss, and it seemed that he could feel something being returned by Thomas. Then the horror of what he was doing suddenly struck him. He leapt up from the bed. ―Thomas, I… forgive me. I‘m sorry!‖ His friend was staring at him, an expression of shock on his handsome face. My God! Andrew thought, I’ve destroyed everything! ―I‘m sorry, Thomas.‖ There was no response apart from Thomas bringing his hands up to cover his eyes, as if he could no longer bear to even look at his friend. Unable to stand it any longer, Andrew turned and fled from the room.

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Chapter 11 THOMAS had been surprised by the kiss. He‘d never thought Andrew capable of doing such a thing. It was as if everything Thomas thought he‘d known about his friend had suddenly gone topsy-turvy. Was Andrew a pervert? It was inconceivable. But what had surprised Thomas more was his own reaction to it. He‘d kissed women before, and enjoyed it. But it had never felt so… right. And wonderful; and beautiful. But it wasn‘t any of those things. It wasn‘t right. It couldn‘t be beautiful. It was wretched. If it was inconceivable for Andrew to be a pervert, it was also inconceivable to think that he might be. Thomas had always thought of himself as a healthy man—a bit lazy, perhaps, with a touch of hedonism thrown in. But otherwise a decent sort. Yet a decent man would feel revulsion at what Andrew had done, horror, disgust… any number of things. And deep down, Thomas knew he did not. What he had felt, at the time, was… love. A love deeper than anything he‘d ever felt toward a woman, rising up in him, flooding his entire body, and reaching out to the one person he truly wanted… to Andrew. This is madness! He lay there for a long time, feeling as though everything familiar had been wrenched from him. He was lost, floundering in a chaos of mixed emotions. It threatened to overwhelm him. He needed to find something to hang onto. He needed….

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 64 Andrew. For the first time, his thoughts turned to something other than his own turmoil. Andrew must be in Hell. Thomas had let him run out without a word. How terrible he must be feeling, thinking… God knew what. If he was still at all the person Thomas had thought him to be, he would be blaming himself. And though he might have instigated it, Thomas couldn‘t let him shoulder all of the blame. He‘d done nothing to stop Andrew. Thomas got up, bracing himself against the bedpost to steady himself, as the effects of the brandy hadn‘t quite worn off. Then he found his way across the room to the door that connected it to Andrew‘s room. He expected it to be locked, but it opened easily. The candles were all out, but the moonlight coming through the draperies illuminated the room faintly, and in that pale gray light Thomas could see a figure lying in the bed. ―Are you asleep?‖ Thomas asked quietly. Andrew was slow to respond, and when he did, his voice sounded dull and listless. ―Don‘t be absurd.‖ Thomas wasn‘t certain what to say. He wanted to tell his friend that it was all right, that it wouldn‘t change anything. But it wasn‘t really all right. And it would change things between them. He moved to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. ―Don‘t sit so close, Thomas. Please.‖ Andrew was lying fully clothed on top of the blankets. ―It wasn‘t your fault,‖ Thomas said, ignoring the request to move away. ―Of course it was my fault, you fool,‖ Andrew said bitterly, ―I took advantage of your drunkenness and good nature.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 65 ―I wasn‘t that drunk.‖ Andrew drew a ragged breath and turned his face away. It was then that Thomas noticed the moonlight glinting off the tears on his face. The first time he had ever seen Andrew cry. ―Thomas, please. Don‘t defend me. I‘ve done a horrid thing.‖ Thomas reached out to touch his arm, but Andrew pulled away. ―No. It was the brandy. That‘s all. Come morning, we‘ll laugh it off.‖ He didn‘t really believe that, and neither did Andrew. ―There‘s nothing to laugh about. Thomas… I love you. I know it‘s a dreadful thing to tell you, but I can‘t hide it any longer. I‘m sorry.‖ A chill ran down Thomas‘s spine. He wasn‘t ready for this. It was too much to cope with. It was as if Andrew were standing at the bottom of a deep, dark abyss, reaching out a hand to him, to pull him down…. ―Please, Andrew. I…. No friend could ever match you. I don‘t want this to come between us. But you mustn‘t speak of it.‖ There was a long silence, before Andrew responded, ―You‘re a good man, Thomas. Anyone else would have thrown me out of the house.‖ ―Never!‖ He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn‘t come. After a long moment, Andrew rolled away from him. ―Goodnight, Thomas.‖ There was nothing more Thomas could do or say, so he got up and went back to his room.

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Chapter 12 IT

WAS snowing when Andrew awoke. From his windows, he

could see the fields and pastures behind Barrington Hall, and the forest beyond, softened by the snow that had accumulated during the early morning hours, and large flakes drifted down from the pale gray sky. It was so beautiful and quiet that Andrew nearly forgot for a moment that his life had been shattered the night before. But as he washed his face and shaved, his mind went over every horrid detail again and again. He remembered how beautiful Thomas had looked when their eyes met and how years of resolve had melted away; how he had thought for one insane moment that Thomas might return his love. He had reached for what he could never have, and it had cost him dearly. The easy, affectionate friendship he‘d shared with Thomas was gone forever. He heard the faint sound of the door handle turning and looked up to see Thomas standing in the doorway, looking vastly uncomfortable, watching Andrew warily, as though uncertain of his welcome. He was shirtless and his hair was disheveled. Andrew had always loved the way the man looked first thing in the morning. It was adorable, like a child waking from a nap with his hair all tousled. I really need to get thoughts like that out of my head. ―You needn‘t be frightened of me,‖ Andrew said wearily, as he reached for a towel to dry his face.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 67 ―I‘m not,‖ Thomas said. ―Don‘t be foolish. I was hoping you would help me shave.‖ It didn‘t seem appropriate, somehow. Not anymore. But after a brief hesitation, during which he could think of no practical reason for refusing, Andrew said, ―Very well. Come sit down.‖ He draped the towel around his neck. Thomas came in and sat in one of the wooden chairs at the table. Andrew brought the washbasin and straight razor over to the table and set them down, then took the towel from around his neck and placed it around Thomas‘s neck. ―It‘s snowing,‖ Thomas said as Andrew slathered some soap on his face. ―So I‘ve noticed.‖ Andrew carefully scraped the razor along Thomas‘s cheek. ―Perhaps you should take Susan outside this morning, before it stops.‖ ―Are you saying you won‘t join us?‖ Andrew sighed. ―I don‘t think that‘s a good idea, Thomas.‖ ―Stop being ridiculous. Susan will be tremendously disappointed if you don‘t come out with us.‖ Andrew wanted to say ―no,‖ but again there was no real reason to do so. Apart from the fact that spending the day with Thomas would be agonizing, now that Andrew‘s terrible secret had come out. Now that every look, every touch, would feel selfconscious and fraught with danger. And regardless of what Thomas might say now, Andrew knew their time together was now limited. Once they returned to London, Thomas would no doubt make a show of remaining friendly, but it was inevitable that they would drift apart. No gentleman could remain friends with a man of Andrew‘s sort for long. ―If you insist,‖ Andrew said, at last. ―I do.‖

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TAKING Susan out in the snow proved to be a difficult undertaking, as Katie fretted excessively about her young charge catching cold. The nanny dressed her in boots and so many layers of coats that it was difficult to see how she could move at all. But Susan appeared not to mind. She was so excited at the prospect of going out with her ―uncles‖ that she could barely stand still as Katie fastened her into her bonnet. And, by God, she was actually smiling. ―We must fetch Hew and Duncan!‖ Susan exclaimed, as she scurried down the long hall to the stairs. Thomas caught up to her to prevent her toppling headlong down the staircase, and took one of her mittened hands. ―Well, I suppose we can see what they‘re about. Perhaps they can join us.‖ It was only as they entered the great hall that Thomas remembered to stop in Edward‘s study. He was ashamed that he hadn‘t thought of it earlier. Who better to take Susan on an outing than her own father, after all? In the study, they found Edward poring over business documents at his desk, dressed casually in a smoking jacket, without his cravat. ―Father!‖ Susan cried out, running to him. He looked up in surprise, taking in the sight of his daughter and the motley group assembled in his doorway. ―Come out with us! It‘s snowing!‖ Edward looked much put out. ―Susan, I‘m very busy.‖ ―But Uncle Thomas says we‘re going to build a man out of snow! And a woman, too.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 69 He frowned at his younger brother. ―If your Uncle Thomas has nothing better to do than traipse about in the snow, then by all means go and join him.‖ Pompous dullard, Thomas thought. The smile was threatening to fade from Susan‘s face, so he called out, ―Come along, poppet. We don‘t want to miss the snowfall.‖ It proved easy enough to entice Hew and Duncan away from their morning chores, though Thomas made a mental note to take responsibility for it, should Simcox take them to task over it later. With the twins taking the lead, the small expedition trudged out across the fields, fresh snow crunching under their feet. Susan‘s joyous mood had returned at the first sight of the falling snowflakes. She was hindered only slightly by her heavy boots and clothing, as she ran to keep up with the boys, while Thomas and Andrew followed behind at a more dignified pace. ―Somebody needs to give my ass of a brother what for,‖ Thomas muttered under his breath. He was pleased to see Andrew smile. ―I do believe he‘s larger than you.‖ ―But I am far angrier. I mean, really, Andrew. She‘s his daughter, and he barely appears to notice her existence.‖ ―I agree,‖ Andrew said, ―it‘s appalling. But you have no say in the matter.‖ Thomas fumed about this for a few minutes, until they caught up with the twins, who were teaching Susan to make snow angels. The boys had a loathing of footprints spoiling their angels, so they were teaching the girl to jump into a pristine snow bank and flop onto her back. When she had finished her angel, she stood, and Duncan called out, ―Wait, Miss Susan! Don‘t move!‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 70 Then he reached over and lifted her out, leaving her beautiful little angel free of any trail leading away from it, as if it had simply appeared on the hillside by magic. ―Quite lovely,‖ Andrew observed, to Susan‘s delight. Thomas was happy to see his friend smiling, but he knew Andrew was miserable under the surface, and it made him feel wretched that he could do nothing about it. Thomas had never even contemplated the notion of one man being in love with another, before last night. Was such a thing possible? Yes, he‘d heard sordid tales of men doing sexual things together, but even that was generally talked about indirectly. Gentlemen never discussed such things in a straightforward manner, so Thomas wasn‘t at all certain what two men would do together, in a physical sense. Had Andrew done these things? Had he thought about doing them with Thomas? Thomas could feel himself blushing at the idea, and he forcefully pushed it to the back of his mind. The concept of a man falling in love with another was even further removed from his education. He‘d often heard the love of two male friends—filial love—described as pure and noble and of the highest good. That, he had once felt certain, was the kind of love he and Andrew had always shared. But what Andrew had done last night wasn‘t at all brotherly, and when he had said ―I love you‖ there had been no doubt in Thomas‘s mind that he was referring to something beyond filial love. How long had Andrew felt this way toward him? Had he been hiding this for all of the years they‘d known each other? Although Thomas knew he was supposed to react to this thought with revulsion, or at best pity, he felt neither. What he felt was an immense sorrow for his friend‘s suffering. And a powerful desire to ease that suffering. But he had absolutely no idea what he could do.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 71 Hew and Duncan helped Susan make her first snowman, and both Thomas and Andrew joined in, Thomas loaning the snowman the use of his scarf. When it came time to make Lady Snow, both of the twins demonstrated that they were indeed still teenaged boys by giggling overmuch when they fashioned the breasts. ―Gentlemen,‖ Thomas said, laughing with them, ―That is no way to treat a lady!‖ Thank heaven they hadn‘t appropriate anatomy, as well.

given

Lord

Snow

the

Hew grabbed Lady Snow‘s left breast and, to Thomas‘s immense shock, lobbed it at him. He barely managed to duck and catch it on his shoulder, instead of in the face. Hew practically collapsed in hysterics, while his brother looked on in horror. ―Hew, you stupid git! You can‘t throw snow in His Lordship‘s face!‖ Duncan started to fall all over himself apologizing, but his words were cut short by Thomas lobbing a snowball at him and catching him full in the mouth. All sense of decorum dissolved instantly, as all four men began throwing snowballs at each other, while Susan laughed and clapped with glee, safely off to one side. At least, she thought she was safe. Hew caught her in the face with a small snowball and suddenly she stopped laughing, her mouth gaping open in shock. The snowball had been small and lightly packed, but the four-year-old looked about to cry, until Andrew scooped her up and kissed her. ―What a black-hearted villain! Shall we get him back?‖ ―Yes,‖ Susan said, pouting.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 72 Andrew set her down and scooped up a snowball for her, while Hew danced around them, laughing gleefully. ―Here you go,‖ Andrew said, handing the snowball to Susan, ―now teach the scoundrel a lesson!‖ Hew stopped his dancing to bob in front of her, grinning wickedly. Susan lobbed her snowball. It didn‘t go far, but Hew was close to her, and he deliberately let it strike him full in the face. Susan laughed, her previous indignation forgotten. ―That‘ll teach you to harm Miss Susan, you blackguard!‖ Duncan cried, tackling his brother. Both went down in a tremendous puff of snow. The others all laughed, and Thomas, in a sudden rush of exuberance, tackled Andrew. His friend fell over backward into a snowdrift, and Thomas landed on top of him. Their faces touched for a second, cold cheeks brushing each other; warmed briefly by their breath. But Andrew wasn‘t laughing. His expression was furious. He shoved Thomas away from him. ―That‘s enough!‖ Thomas rolled off of him, suddenly feeling very foolish. He wasn‘t sure why he‘d just done that. Perhaps he was trying to show Andrew that they could still be close. But it had been foolish, under the present circumstances, and now he felt like a prime idiot for doing it. They stood, unable to look each other in the eye as they brushed the snow off their coats. ―I‘m cold,‖ Susan said, and Thomas noticed for the first time that she was shivering. ―Perhaps it‘s time to go inside, poppet.‖

ANDREW was fuming all the way back to the hall. What in blazes had Thomas been thinking? Was he trying to prove

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 73 something? That he was man enough to handle Andrew‘s perversity without running away? Well, bully for him! But didn‘t the fool understand how painful that kind of forced artificial closeness would be to Andrew? Lud, this is going to be worst Christmas I’ve ever endured! The twins seemed to sense that something was wrong between the two older men, as they trudged through the deepening snow, but fortunately Susan did not. The girl was practically prattling as she walked between her two ―uncles,‖ each of them holding onto one of her damp mittened hands. Barrington Hall was beautiful in the falling snow. Even though it was barely midday, it was dark enough for some of the lamps to be lit, and they could be seen through the windows, sparkling like the candles of a Christmas tree. They came in through the kitchen, causing Cook to cluck at them about the mud and water they were tracking inside. She positively would not allow them to go into the rest of the house until they‘d wiped their boots and had the snow brushed off of them by one of the kitchen staff. Hew gave Susan a quick peck on the cheek, then disappeared with his brother to parts unknown. Thomas raised his eyebrows, and Andrew couldn‘t resist a slight smile. If Edward didn‘t watch out, that boy might someday spell trouble—assuming he was willing to wait thirteen or fourteen years. Thomas led his niece up the short steps into the back hall, and Andrew could think of little else to do but follow them. When they entered the large entrance hall they found a number of people gathered there, including the duke and Simcox, who was ordering some of the servants to take coats and bags. One of the duke‘s hounds was running around the hall, unable to contain his excitement at having visitors. He noticed

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 74 the newcomers and padded over. He was a massive animal, and Susan shrieked, thinking he would knock her over. Thomas scooped her up out of the dog‘s reach and shushed her. ―He won‘t hurt you, poppet. He‘s just happy to see you.‖ Andrew grabbed the rambunctious animal by the collar as it tried to jump up on Thomas, and pulled it away. ―Father!‖ Thomas called out. ―Will you please call the dog. He‘s frightening Susan.‖ The duke turned and whistled. ―Come here, boy!‖ Andrew released the dog, and it trotted obediently to its master‘s side, while Duchess Barrington attempted to laugh it off, saying to one of the guests, ―Thank goodness he has only one of the animals with him tonight. There are times when the house is positively overrun!‖ This was met with polite laughter from the guests. The duke looked put out, but merely harrumphed in response. Then suddenly another voice called out in a lilting soprano, ―Thomas? Is that you?‖ She emerged from the throng of people gathered by the door, looking startling beautiful, her raven hair contrasting dramatically with the ivory of her skin, a sensual, rose-colored mouth, and vivid blue eyes. As she rushed forward to greet the lord, her richly made dark green riding dress swirling about her in a vision of refined elegance, Andrew saw Thomas go pale. ―Rebecca,‖ he said softly.

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Chapter 13 SHE was even more lovely than she‘d been the last time he saw her. Certainly, she seemed more shapely. Her dress was just low-cut enough to reveal an ample bosom, without being too scandalous. ―It is you, Thomas! I was so hoping you would be here.‖ Her lips were soft and warm against his cheek, but he felt no stirring of arousal—only horror. He saw Andrew glance away quickly, feigning interest in the other visitors, but it hadn‘t been quick enough to hide the jealousy in his eyes. ―I‘m glad to see you, Miss Hudson,‖ he lied, hoping his smile looked more sincere than it felt. ―We were supposed to attend the Christmas Eve ball at the Rutherford‘s, but your father was so sweet in his letter. And really, I‘d much rather be at Barrington.‖ How could Father do this to me? But Thomas wasn‘t surprised, really. No wonder the old bastard had given in so easily. He had seen the ball—or dance, as the case may be—as a perfect opportunity to try to force Thomas and Rebecca together once more. Even after six years, the duke was determined to get his way. And now Thomas had more than just himself to worry about. With things already tense between him and Andrew, Rebecca‘s presence could only serve to make things worse. ―And this must be Susan!‖ the young woman was saying, turning her sparkling smile upon the little girl. ―Your grandmother has written to me about you. Aren‘t you lovely?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 76 Susan was eyeing her warily, but remembered her manners in time to say, ―Hello.‖ ―Miss Hudson,‖ Thomas said, unable to think of a way out of the awkward situation, ―this is my dearest friend, Mr. Andrew Nash.‖ ―Mr. Nash,‖ Rebecca said sweetly, extending a hand. Andrew took it and made an eloquent bow, placing a gentle kiss on her gloved fingers. ―Miss Hudson. Thomas has mentioned you often.‖ That was a lie, Thomas thought. He‘d deliberately avoided discussing her with Andrew, even before he knew of Andrew‘s… inclinations. It wasn‘t that he disliked her, really. He recalled her being very sweet. But to him, she was a trap—a trap laid by his father. And he‘d be damned if he was going to fall into it. He was spared further conversation by Susan suddenly exclaiming, ―Father!‖ Rebecca seemed startled by the shout, but she regained her composure and turned to face Edward as he emerged from his study, looking weary and a bit tousled. He‘d still not yet taken the time to dress properly. Thomas‘s older brother saw Rebecca and looked a bit alarmed. But after a second‘s hesitation, he bowed slightly. ―Rebecca. It‘s good to see you again.‖ She smiled. ―And you, Edward.‖ Susan squirmed for Thomas to let her down, so he did so. The little girl ran to her father and threw her arms around his legs. Edward absently touched her hair before noticing that she still had melting snow in it. ―Susan! You‘re soaking wet. We‘d better get you into some dry clothes before you catch cold.‖ ―I can take her up, Edward,‖ Thomas offered immediately, jumping at the chance to escape. ―Very well, Thomas. Thank you.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 77 Thomas took his niece by the hand again and led her to the stairs, pleased to see that Andrew moved to follow him. They took their leave of Edward and Rebecca, then went upstairs.

―I

SHOULD have expected this!‖ Thomas was ranting, while

Andrew stood before the blazing fire in Thomas‘s room. ―But I thought she would be safely married off to some other poor sap by now.‖ The blond watched in helpless fascination while Thomas stripped off his layers of wet clothing and draped them over the backs of all the chairs in the room. He was already barechested, and there wasn‘t much left for him to remove. Andrew desperately wanted to leave. He had watched his friend undress in the past, more times than he could remember, and he had to admit that he‘d found it erotic. But his upbringing—as well as fear of revealing his nature—had always prevented him from gawking, and the casual nature of it had somehow prevented it from feeling sordid. Now that Thomas was aware of Andrew‘s inclinations, it felt deliberate and forced. Perhaps the man was attempting to prove that he was above all of it; that he didn‘t care one whit if Andrew looked at him. But it made Andrew feel extremely uncomfortable, as though he were diseased and Thomas was trying too hard to prove that he wasn‘t afraid to approach the sick bed. ―He can‘t force you to marry her now,‖ Andrew replied reasonably, ―Any more than he could six years ago. Now, if you‘ll excuse me—‖ But Thomas wasn‘t about to let him escape. ―You just watch. He‘ll arrange for her to dog me every minute.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 78 He began undoing his trousers, and Andrew felt his pulse quicken involuntarily. Thankfully, Thomas stopped for a moment, choosing instead to flop down in one of the stuffed armchairs before the fire and extend a boot. ―Help me, please?‖ Andrew nearly refused. He nearly told his friend to call for one of the servants, if he couldn‘t manage his own clothing. But he held his tongue, simply kneeling and beginning to unfasten the boot. ―She‘s very beautiful, Thomas. Even more so than I imagined. Would it be such a bad thing to marry her and raise a family?‖ Thomas made a rude noise. ―Marriage is for other sorts of men than us, Andrew.‖ Now, this was really intolerable. Andrew let Thomas‘s foot fall and stood up to glare down at him. ―Stop talking rubbish!‖ Thomas gaped at him, unable to think of a response. ―Thomas, we are not men of the same sort. You are merely one of countless other men in the civilized world who view a wife and children as a burden. While that may make you irresponsible, if one were being unkind, it does not make you in any way like me.‖ ―Andrew—‖ Angry now, Andrew gathered up his own waistcoat from where it lay draped over one of the chair backs beside Thomas‘s. ―And I will thank you not to undress in front of me or… touch me in inappropriate ways, in the future.‖ ―What inappropriate ways?‖ Thomas asked, looking shocked. ―You know perfectly well what I‘m referring to. That wrestling match, or whatever you think it was, outside in the snow this afternoon.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 79 ―Hew and Duncan were wrestling too.‖ The lord started undoing his own boot, tugging at the laces in obvious irritation. ―For them,‖ Andrew said, ―it was nothing more than an innocent game. It wasn‘t for the two of us—not after what‘s happened between us in the past day. You must realize how these things affect me, Thomas. I don‘t appreciate being… tortured like this.‖ Thomas looked up from his task, annoyed. ―Tortured?‖ ―If you‘ll excuse me, I have to find dry clothes for the dance this evening.‖

THOMAS watched him storm out and was torn between stopping him and shouting a biting parting remark. Fortunately, he did neither. Torture? It was true that he‘d done these things deliberately. But he wasn‘t trying to torture Andrew. He simply wanted things to go back to the way they‘d been before the… incident. Angrily, he tugged his boot off and threw it aside. Then he began tackling the wet laces of the other. What did Andrew want of him? Most gentlemen would have refused any further association with a man of his nature, as he‘d said himself. Some would have reported him to the authorities. Thomas was willing to allow their friendship to continue. Why should he be vilified for that? He kicked the other boot off. The lout ought to be grateful! He rang for a servant, and waited with his trousers still on until there was a gentle knock and a young man let himself into the room. ―You rang, Your Lordship?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 80 ―Could you have some hot water brought up, please? I‘d like to take a bath.‖ ―Yes, sir.‖ Having hot water for a bath brought to his room was a time-consuming process, involving a couple of the more muscular male servants lugging pails of hot water from a firestoked water tank in a room at the end of the long eastern wing. It was about a half hour later when Thomas was able to finally strip completely and ease himself into the steaming water. One of the servants, a young man with a muscular frame and straw-blond hair, had remained in the room to tidy up the clothes scattered everywhere—he seemed to think they could be better dealt with in the laundry—and lay out fresh attire for the evening. Thomas did his best to ignore the servant as he bathed. It felt odd to have someone else in the room besides Andrew, these days. Was this to be the end of their friendship, then, he wondered? The thought dismayed him. Though they had only known each other for three years, he could no longer imagine a life without Andrew at his side. He was more than a mere friend. Thomas could confide in him as he‘d never been able to with anyone else; he could depend on him in all circumstances—apart, perhaps, from the present circumstance. And there was nobody else in the world around whom Thomas felt so comfortable, so relaxed. I’ll do anything to keep him. The moment he thought it, he wondered if it was true. Would he really do anything? The image that came to mind made him blush. But more disconcerting than what he was thinking was the way his body had responded to it.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 81 He hunched forward and folded his arms across himself, embarrassed to let the servant see him in this state. ―Thank you… I‘m sorry, but you must be new to the hall.‖ ―Yes, sir,‖ the young man replied, ―I started last year, when my older brother, John, left to get married.‖ ―Oh, yes. I remember John. What‘s your name?‖ ―Percy, sir.‖ ―Very well. Thank you, Percy. That will be all. I can dress myself.‖ Thomas saw the young man glance down at the way he was hiding himself with his arms, and he suspected the boy knew perfectly well why he was being asked to leave. But he merely bowed and said, ―As you wish, sir.‖ The servant left and Thomas relaxed slightly. But not completely. For the first time, he began to wonder if there might be a real danger in remaining close friends with Andrew. Was it possible that he might be dragged down with Andrew? The thought frightened him. But more frightening was the possibility that perhaps he didn‘t need to be dragged down. Perhaps he was already there. After all, he‘d never found sexual relations with women to be particularly exciting. And he had certainly never loved a woman. Was he capable of loving a man? The water had gone tepid, so he stood and reached for the towel draped nearby. As he dried himself, he reflected that Susan appeared to be the only one in the household who was truly happy this Christmas.

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Chapter 14 THE musicians arrived an hour before the party was to begin. Andrew was down in the dining room, having tea—for once, by himself—when Simcox let them in. Andrew could hear the butler telling them, ―Welcome to Barrington Hall, gentlemen. We‘ve been expecting you.‖ His curiosity getting the better of him, Andrew wandered out into the great hall. Joe and Derrick recognized him immediately and seemed relieved to see a familiar face. ―Here we are, Your Lordship! Just like we promised.‖ Andrew smiled warmly at them. ―I‘m so glad you could make it.‖ Joe doffed his hat, and elbowed Derrick, who did the same. There were three other men with them, and they all followed suit. ―If the gentlemen would care to follow me,‖ Simcox said, gesturing toward the rear of the hall, where the doors to the ballroom stood open, ―I‘ll show you were you‘ll be performing.‖ The men did as they were told, and Andrew decided to trail along after them. He hadn‘t yet seen the ballroom. It was spectacular. The room itself was cavernous, with great arched ceilings, and rows of glass windows along three sides. Five massive chandeliers were hanging just a few feet off the floor, being lit by the servants before they were to be hoisted up to the ceiling on heavy chains. Six gigantic Christmas trees, decorated with red

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 83 and gold ornaments, adorned the ballroom—one in each of the four corners, and two against the walls in the middle of the room. And beribboned evergreen garlands were to be found in every archway. The Barringtons, Andrew reflected, were nothing if not ostentatious. It was difficult to imagine Thomas coming from this environment. He was a bit spoiled, it was true, but he never seemed to feel the need to remind people of his rank or wealth. The tables that lined both sides of the ballroom, to either side of the immaculately polished dance floor, also belied the ―informal‖ description of the dance that Thomas had given the locals. Duchess Barrington seemed determined to impress. Each of the tables was laid with a fine white linen tablecloth and brightly polished silver settings, with a centerpiece of evergreen, red ribbons, and candles. Joe and his crew trailed after Simcox, looking around themselves in awe. The orchestra platform was at the midpoint of the room. It had been designed for a much larger group of people than the pub musicians, but someone had seen to it that only a few chairs had been placed in the very front of the platform, and the rest was taken up by one of the giant Christmas trees, behind the musicians. ―The guests should begin arriving within the hour,‖ Simcox informed them, as they settled themselves. ―Might I offer you gentlemen some tea while you wait?‖ ―Beggin‘ your pardon, sir,‖ Derrick said, ―But we like to have some ale on hand. Just to keep us goin‘. If it ain‘t too much trouble.‖ ―Certainly, immediately.‖

sir.

I

shall

have

some

brought

to

you

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 84 THE guests began to arrive about an hour later. Thomas was forced to stand in a line, alongside his parents and Edward, to greet people as they arrived. Susan stood beside her father, dressed in a hunter green dress of rich velvet that provided a striking contrast to her bright red hair. She was lovely, and greeted each guest with a small curtsy. Thomas hadn‘t seen Andrew since their quarrel and try as he might, he couldn‘t stop fretting over it. They hadn‘t fought once in three years, and now they were at each other‘s throats. The situation was intolerable. Rebecca came downstairs with her parents to greet Thomas and his family—apparently, they were staying for the weekend—then she departed to the ballroom to mingle with the other guests, taking Susan with her. The little girl had endured about as much standing in one spot as she was capable of. The stunned expressions on most of the villagers‘ faces, when they entered the hall, were relieved of their outer garments by the servants, and greeted by Duke Barrington himself, might have been amusing had not Thomas been so mortified by the ostentatiousness of the whole affair. His mother had always been inclined to extravagance when she threw functions at the hall. That had never bothered him when the other guests were nobility, as that was simply the way the game was played among noble houses—everyone attempting to outdo one another in their spending and trendiness. He could hardly fault his mother for playing the game well. But this was different. These people had comparatively little, and were looking to spend Christmas Eve with good friends and family. He feared they might find this elaborate Christmas Eve dance to be in poor taste, if not actually insulting.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 85 But as more and more people entered the hall, shaking the fresh fallen snow off their coats, Thomas noticed that most of the guests seemed fascinated by the hall and their hosts. Perhaps to these people, this was largely an opportunity to satisfy their curiosity about life at Barrington Hall and its residents. If that were the case, Thomas mused, he wished them an enjoyable evening of gawking and peeking in linen closets—figuratively speaking. When the stream of incoming guests had slowed to a trickle, Rebecca came out of the ballroom to inform them that the festivities were about to commence. She smiled at the duke and Duchess Barrington, as she slipped her arm through Thomas‘s, then gave a brief nod to Edward. ―I‘ve left Susan in the capable hands of Mr. Nash.‖ ―Thank you, Rebecca,‖ Edward replied stiffly. Thomas had the distinct impression that his older brother was perturbed about something, yet he couldn‘t imagine what. Surely Edward didn‘t have an issue with Susan being left in Andrew‘s care. In fact, when they entered the ballroom, they found Andrew and the twins chasing Susan and some of the other local urchins around the pillars. Andrew was laughing along with the children, looking happier than he had since he and Thomas had begun quarreling, and the sight of it warmed Thomas. ―Your friend will make a good father one day,‖ Rebecca observed with a smile. Except that that would never happen, Thomas reflected sadly. Well, it might, if Andrew were to deny his nature and marry. But Thomas found that thought oddly upsetting and pushed it forcefully from his mind.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 86 Andrew glanced up and saw him walking with Rebecca on his arm. Thomas tried to give him a look that conveyed how trapped he felt, without being obvious to those around him, but Andrew either didn‘t catch it or chose to ignore it. His face went dark, and he turned back to the games he was playing with the children.

THE sight of Thomas with Rebecca on his arm was excruciating. It didn‘t matter that Andrew knew Thomas wasn‘t in love with her. The duke was determined to forge an alliance between his house and Rebecca‘s, and he was bound to use Thomas to do it, regardless of Thomas‘s inclinations. Truly, as arranged marriages went, this one seemed far less odious than many. Rebecca was a stunning beauty and possessed of considerable charm. Thomas might protest, but he could do far worse. And it was really a better life for him than lazing about the club for the remainder of his years, depending upon the good graces of his father for support. Rebecca could give him children and make him wealthy enough to live out from under the influence of his father. Duchess Barrington, as he was learning, never missed an opportunity for drama. She ascended the short steps up to the orchestra platform, along with the duke, and Simcox called out for silence. ―My dear friends and neighbors,‖ Duchess Barrington effused, ―it‘s so good of you to come to our little gathering this Christmas Eve. For many years now, this house has been in mourning over the passing of our beloved Anne, the wife of our son, Edward. She is sorely missed. But the time has come to once again ring in the Christmas season with joy, as I‘m sure Anne would have wanted.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 87 The rest of the speech was mercifully short, and soon Duchess Barrington was calling for the musicians to play. Joe and his troupe were nervous, and started a little rough, but soon found their rhythm. There was some reluctance among the guests to be the first on the dance floor, but Duchess Barrington proved adept at dragging people away from the light refreshments Cook had sent out from the kitchen before the party kicked off, and soon she and the duke were dancing to the merry jig with surprising adroitness. Simcox had also already begun serving the wine and ale, which no doubt served to loosen people up. It wasn‘t long before the dancing was in full swing. ―Would you care to dance, Miss Susan?‖ Hew asked, bowing low to the girl. Susan looked distraught. ―I don‘t know how.‖ ―Nonsense!‖ the lad declared. ―Anybody can dance. Even Duncan.‖ The little girl giggled as he grabbed her hand and whirled her off to the dance floor. She didn‘t know any of the steps, but judging from what Andrew saw, neither did Hew. Not far from where he was standing, Thomas was dancing with Rebecca, and the sight made Andrew‘s heart feel weary, as if it might give up beating simply because it no longer cared to continue. He felt conspicuous standing by himself, so he reluctantly approached a young woman who appeared to be without a dancing partner. Her enthusiastic acceptance made him wish he hadn‘t—the last thing he needed tonight was a doe-eyed young thing sighing at him all evening. But she proved a competent dancer, at least. As they joined one of the reels, he discovered that Thomas and Rebecca were part of the same dance, and this was one where the men joined hands as often as the men and women

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 88 did. There were four couples in the dance, but Andrew was only vaguely aware of the others. Every time Thomas gripped his forearm, the bastard looked him directly in the eye, smiling in a way that reminded Andrew of the easy affection the man had once shown for him. But Andrew was no longer able to believe in that smile. After two dances, he‘d had enough. He excused himself— much to his young woman‘s too obvious dismay—and stepped out through the French doors that opened off the ballroom onto one of the many snow-covered patios. He needed some fresh air, even if it meant getting a little snow on his dress clothes. But he soon discovered that he wasn‘t alone. The Earl of Barrington was standing near the low railing at the edge of the patio, staring out at the falling snow blanketing the garden. He turned, startled, as he heard Andrew approach. ―Ah, Mr. Nash,‖ Edward said distantly, ―I hope you‘re enjoying the party.‖ ―Tremendously,‖ Andrew lied. Edward nodded, then turned back to look at the peaceful landscape. Andrew thought that was the end of the conversation, but the earl continued, ―Is Thomas enjoying himself?‖ It seemed an odd thing to ask. ―I presume so. I haven‘t spoken to him since the dancing began. Lady Hudson has been quite monopolizing his time.‖ Edward‘s sigh was barely perceptible, but Andrew caught it. There was a long silence, then Andrew said—though what perverse impulse compelled him to say it, he did not know—―I think she will make a good wife for your brother.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 89 Edward whirled to face him, and for a moment his face seemed angry. Had he been standing closer, Andrew wondered if the earl might have struck him. ―No doubt she would make a good wife for any man,‖ Edward said, attempting to regain his composure. ―But Thomas doesn‘t deserve her.‖ Andrew could think of no response. The earl closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as he straightened his jacket. Calmer now, he said, ―If you‘ll excuse me….‖ He walked past Andrew without waiting for an answer. The blond watched him enter the house, as a number of puzzling observations about Edward that he‘d made since they met began to coalesce in his mind—Edward‘s reluctance to stay at home; the way he locked himself away when he was at home; his lack of affection for a daughter who looked far too much like her mother; his reluctance to come out of mourning for Anne. These could be the behaviors of a man deeply in love with a young wife, cruelly torn from him after such a short time, and now unable to face any reminder of her. But it could also be the behavior of a man wracked with guilt—guilt over the fact that he‘d never truly loved his wife. One thing seemed clear: Edward was in love with Rebecca.

AS THEY danced, Rebecca laughed with joy and smiled sweetly. But Thomas began to notice something. Every so often, the young woman appeared to be glancing around, looking for something. The musicians took a break after the fifth dance, and Thomas escorted Lady Hudson to the punch bowl. She smiled

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 90 warmly at him as he handed her a glass of the spicy cider, but again he had the distinct impression that she was only giving him half her attention. She seemed to be waiting for something, and glanced fleetingly around her every now and then. Not blatantly, but often enough for him to notice. She was being attentive, and he had no reason to complain, as he had no real desire to be tied to her for the rest of the evening, anyway. But it annoyed him, nonetheless. If she would rather be elsewhere, then far be it for him to detain her. He noticed that some of the dancers had gone out on the patios to cool off, so he suggested, ―Shall we step out into the cool air for a moment?‖ ―Yes, by all means,‖ Rebecca said, laughing. ―I shall fetch your shawl.‖ ―Oh, no. Please. I will be fine without it for a few moments, and it‘s all the way upstairs.‖ ―Very well.‖ He extended his arm then led her outside. There were a few others on the patio, cooling off while enjoying the beauty of the snow falling on silent fields and forests beyond, but they were able to find a spot where they could talk in relative privacy. ―Am I to understand, Miss Hudson,‖ Thomas began, feeling a bit awkward, ―That you have never married?‖ If Rebecca was embarrassed by the question, she showed no sign. ―You‘re so formal, Thomas,‖ she replied, smiling. ―I believe we‘ve known each other long enough for you to call me Rebecca. We were once betrothed, after all.‖ ―I remember.‖ ―But no, I‘ve never married. Though Father has pushed more suitors at me than you can imagine.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 91 ―Please do not tell me you‘ve been waiting for me to return, after all these years.‖ Rebecca laughed lightly, and regarded him with clear affection. ―Oh, Thomas. You are very handsome, and you can be quite charming. But no, I have not been pining for you. If the truth be told, I was relieved when you broke off the engagement.‖ Some perverse part of him felt insulted, even though this was, in fact, what he had hoped for. Rebecca seemed to sense this and added, ―I‘m certain you‘ll make someone a fine husband one day. But let‘s be honest. Neither of us really wanted to marry, now did we?‖ ―No,‖ Thomas replied, returning her smile. ―But I fear our father‘s may have different ideas on the subject.‖ ―Yes,‖ she responded. Her smile faded. ―Oh, Thomas. You should not have come back. My parents have been fretting about me becoming a spinster‖—Thomas could hardly imagine a young woman who looked any less as though she were in danger of running out of options—―and with your father bringing pressure to bear, I fear we can expect them to arrange another marriage for us.‖ Thomas nodded. ―Yes, I agree. I‘m glad to learn, at least, that you and I are of one accord on the subject.‖ ―You are aware, are you not, that your father vowed to cut you off without a penny should you refuse to wed me?‖ No, Thomas hadn‘t been aware of that. But he was hardly surprised. The old conniving serpent. He noticed that Rebecca had begun to shiver, so he put his arm around her shoulders and said, ―I believe we should go inside, before you catch a chill.‖

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Chapter 15 THE party was a rousing success, and by the time the musicians left, well past midnight, Duchess Barrington was already effusing about it to the duke and making plans for another one next year. This was met with unenthusiastic grunts, which she appeared not to notice. Susan had long ago been taken up to the nursery by her nanny, and most people with young children had departed hours ago as well. Thomas had seen to it that those who hadn‘t arrived in their own carriages were taken home by the hall‘s carriages, as it was a fair walk through the snow. Lady Hudson had retired at a respectable hour, leaving a few stragglers—die-hards from the local pubs—drinking in Christmas until Simcox felt it necessary to politely ask them to leave. Andrew had managed to avoid dancing for the rest of the evening by flitting from table to table and chatting with the guests. He‘d even joined in a game of cards at one table, which no doubt would have had Duchess Barrington in a flutter, had she known of it. Still, he could not claim to have enjoyed himself. His eyes kept straying, almost unbidden, searching out Thomas in the crowd. And every time he found his friend, with Lady Hudson hanging off his arm, it felt as if his heart had been pierced anew by a dagger. He had wished to retire to his bedroom since the beginning of the dance, but had endured it for Thomas‘s sake. Even now,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 93 after all of the guests had finally left, he found himself unable to break away, lingering by Thomas‘s side as the lord gave the musicians a crown each and sent them on their way. What forced him to wait, even though he felt weary to his bones? Perhaps he was hoping for the camaraderie he and Thomas once shared at the club, sitting in one or the other of their rooms in their nightshirts, talking about philosophy and politics into the wee hours of the morning. If so, he was being foolish. That easy companionship had disintegrated, and would never return. Yet when he and Thomas returned to their rooms at last, he found he could not say ―no‖ when his friend asked, ―May I come in and talk for a while?‖ ―It‘s very late, Thomas.‖ ―So?‖ ―All right.‖ Thomas smiled, looking deliciously sweet and inordinately delighted. ―I shall return in a moment.‖ Andrew let himself into his room and debated whether he should undress for bed. Finally, he decided it was ridiculous to be bound up in his best clothes at this hour, and Thomas could damned well cope with him in his undershirt. He stripped down to nothing but the knee-length linen shirt and seated himself by the fire. One of the staff had built up a warm blaze, and thankfully there was a full decanter of sherry on the table. Thomas entered without knocking, just as the blond was pouring himself a glass. He was padding about in his undershirt, as well, his feet bare.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 94 ―Pour me a glass too, please,‖ he said, as he flopped down in the opposite chair. ―Though I‘d rather you had brandy than that syrupy stuff.‖ ―You seem to have had quite a bit to drink tonight,‖ Andrew observed, though he poured the sherry just the same. ―I‘m not drunk. Were you watching me?‖ It was a loaded question, fraught with peril, but Andrew was too tired to deny it. ―If you must know, I always watch you at parties.‖ ―Because I‘m devilishly handsome?‖ Thomas quirked an eyebrow at him playfully. ―Because you drink too much.‖ ―Oh, Andrew. How tedious. Am I about to receive a lecture?‖ Andrew sighed. ―No. I merely endeavor to prevent you from making a fool of yourself.‖ ―Except when you want something,‖ Thomas retorted. ―Such as a holiday in the country.‖ Andrew held his glass up and gazed thoughtfully at the sweet amber liquid. ―I shall regret that for the rest of my days.‖ Thomas appeared to be about to say something, but he thought better of it, taking a sip of the sherry instead. There was a very long silence, while Andrew listened to the crackling of the fire and wondered just how long they would be able to endure each other‘s company. ―May I ask you some questions?‖ Thomas asked at last. Andrew had a feeling that the questions would be unpleasant. But he was just enough in his cups to answer them. ―Very well.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 95 Thomas glanced at the fireplace, unable to look his friend in the eye. After a long pause, he cleared his throat and downed his sherry. ―How long have you known?‖ ―Known what?‖ Andrew asked sharply. ―That I was a pervert? Or that I was in love with you?‖ Thomas was clearly trying not to look shocked, but he failed. ―Really, Andrew! Must you say it like that?‖ ―How do you want me to say it?‖ ―Say you prefer men to women. Say you find men attractive. Anything but ‗pervert‘. It sounds so sordid.‖ ―It is sordid, Thomas.‖ ―You don‘t intend to answer my question, then.‖ Andrew sighed. ―I suppose I‘ve always been like that. Even as a young boy. I remember swimming naked with a friend in the river. I was fascinated by his body. It wasn‘t so much erotic—not at that age—but it was… beautiful.‖ Thomas contemplated this, then asked, ―But when did you know?‖ Andrew emptied his glass and poured himself another. ―I suppose I really didn‘t understand how differently I felt from the other boys until I went to University. While all of the others were spending their free time trying to convince women to surrender their virtue, I found myself hoping to get a glimpse of my friends dressing after gymnasium.‖ As he knew would happen, the implications of this were immediately apparent to his friend. Thomas‘s eyes went wide. Slowly, he reached for the sherry decanter and poured himself another glass. ―You‘ve seen me out of my clothing more times than I can remember.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 96 ―I know,‖ Andrew responded, feeling deeply ashamed. ―It‘s awful of me. Please understand that it‘s been difficult to isolate myself from these circumstances, without revealing my nature—‖ ―Were you… did you find me pleasing?‖ Andrew could not look at him. ―Thomas… I have always felt you to be incredibly beautiful.‖ He expected Thomas to be shocked, but he merely gave him a shy smile and said, ―I‘m glad you think so, Andrew.‖ Andrew looked up and met his soft green eyes. The expression in them was far from horror or disgust. It seemed… affectionate. Had Andrew allowed himself to believe it, he could almost swear it was loving. The love of a good friend, Andrew told himself. Nothing more. He’s a good sort. ―I think you‘ve had a bit too much to drink, Thomas. You‘d best get to bed.‖ Thomas appeared reluctant to leave, but tilted back his sherry glass and emptied it. Then he dutifully placed it on the table and stood to take his leave. ―I‘ll say good night, then. Thank you, Andrew, for all you‘ve done—with the dance and… everything else.‖ Andrew wasn‘t certain what he meant by ―everything else,‖ but he smiled. ―Goodnight, Thomas. Sleep well.‖ Andrew knew he would not. Thomas‘s unexpectedly affectionate reaction to his confession that he found him beautiful was disconcerting. Against his will, thoughts of Thomas‘s naked body began to come to mind. Though he had always fought against such thoughts, he began to wonder if

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 97 Thomas would be willing to consider other arrangements that might please both of them. With a concerted effort, he forced the thought from his mind. Thomas was a good-hearted creature, and still, in many ways, an innocent. He knew nothing of the unnatural desires a man of Andrew‘s sort might have for him. To corrupt him, even in fantasy, seemed absolutely unforgivable.

THOMAS could no longer deny that he was intoxicated. But he wasn‘t so far gone that he hadn‘t noticed the way Andrew was looking at him as he said goodnight. Nor was he oblivious to his own reaction to that look. Any proper English gentleman would have been repulsed, but he was not. Why am I always pleased to find evidence of his attraction to me? Thomas wondered. Indeed, now that he was being honest with himself, he was forced to admit that he wanted Andrew to be attracted to him. No, it’s more than that. I want him to love me. The thought came upon him suddenly, and he was startled by it. But he instantly knew it to be true. Watching Andrew dancing with that young chit had nearly driven Thomas mad with frustration. Every time he and Andrew had linked arms, he‘d wished fervently that it were just the two of them dancing—the girl and Rebecca be damned! He longed to return to London, where they could once again spend their nights alone with each other, distracted only by the casual acquaintances they both had at the club. It was foolish, Thomas reflected, as he made his way to the bed, bracing himself on the backs of chairs and the bedpost to keep himself steady. Worse than that, it was cruel. Thomas

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 98 could never love Andrew the way Andrew wanted him to. Yet some part of him wanted Andrew to remain faithful to him. The idea was absurd. He found that he was no longer shocked by Andrew‘s inclinations. If the blond preferred to bed men, instead of women, so be it. Let the Church hash out the morality of it—it was not up to Thomas to be Andrew‘s judge. If his friend were to find another man to do… well, whatever it was that two men might do together… then that was Andrew‘s affair, and certainly not worth losing a good friend over. One of the servants had slipped a bed warmer between the sheets—a long-handled pan with a lid, which contained hot coals from the fire. Thomas removed it, being doubly cautious not to upset it, in the uncoordinated state he was in, and placed it on the hearthstone. Then he slipped in between the sheets, sliding his bare feet down to the warmest spot. If only the thought of Andrew with another man didn‘t bother him so much. Oh, not out any sense of propriety, but out of simple…. Jealousy. That was the word. He couldn‘t deny it. He might not want to be Andrew‘s lover, but he was forced to admit that he would be terribly jealous of someone else filling that role. It was a childish notion, like a little boy being upset that his older brother was courting and no longer paying attention to him. It was also selfish. If he couldn‘t make Andrew happy, then he should wish for someone else to do so. If he truly loved him. And Thomas did love Andrew, at least as much as any friend could love another. He sighed and rolled over, tucking the blankets tight under his chin.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 99 It was pointless to think about all of this now. Andrew was alone, as he‘d been ever since Thomas first met him. Someday that might change, and that would be the time for Thomas to cope with it. Not now. What needed to be done now was to convince Andrew that their friendship was strong enough to survive the truth Andrew had been hiding from him for all these years. As he lay there, thinking of his friend, his mind still a bit fuzzy, Thomas thought how nice it would be to have Andrew lying beside him, wrapped in his arms. A few days ago, the thought would have been shocking. But now, in this drowsy state, it seemed oddly comforting. He imagined pressing his body up against Andrew‘s pleasant warmth, and was only mildly surprised by the stiffening in his groin, as he drifted off to sleep.

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Chapter 16 CHRISTMAS morning dawned gray and cloudy, but the thick blanket of snow covering the countryside, and the softly falling snowflakes, made the scene beautiful. Andrew looked out of his window, cheered despite himself. It was wonderfully serene, and for a moment it soothed his troubled mind. But only for a moment. He hadn‘t locked his door, and Thomas suddenly burst in, looking disheveled, still in his nightshirt, with his hair going every which way. Andrew thought he looked adorably like a rumpled urchin, as the man rubbed his eyes with one hand to get the sleep out of them. ―My God, Andrew!‖ Thomas exclaimed. ―It‘s Christmas morning!‖ Andrew couldn‘t help but smile. ―Yes, that‘s what generally follows Christmas Eve.‖ ―You don‘t understand. I‘ve no presents for anybody! How could I have forgotten?‖ Andrew walked to the pull cord by the mantel and gave it a tug. ―Sit down, Thomas. You seem desperately in need of some tea.‖ Thomas did as he was told, and Andrew couldn‘t resist going to stand behind him and rubbing his shoulders. This had always helped calm him in the past, and Thomas didn‘t appear to mind it now.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 101 ―We must go into town,‖ Thomas insisted. ―One of the shops must be open.‖ ―Don‘t be daft. Nobody keeps a shop open on Christmas Day. And have you looked outside? The road will be impassable. I just hope all of the guests made it home safely last night.‖ ―Yes, of course,‖ Thomas said quietly. A servant knocked on the door and entered. ―You rang, sir?‖ ―Could you bring us some tea?‖ Andrew asked, and then, as the servant began to back out of the room, ―and I‘d like some hot water brought for a bath, please.‖ ―Yes, sir.‖ When the servant had gone, Thomas said, ―There must be something I can give Susan, at the very least. What kind of Christmas will it be for her without presents?‖ ―Until this year,‖ Andrew pointed out, ―she didn‘t know anything at all about Christmas. She‘ll hardly miss something she‘s never had before.‖ ―That‘s not the point! Children get presents on Christmas morning. Or Christmas Eve. But to get no presents at all is simply unheard of!‖ Andrew gave up rubbing Thomas‘s shoulders—the man was far too tense to really benefit from it, anyway. He went to the fireplace and attempted to stir the coals with the poker, hoping there was some life left in it. ―Surely a house this size must have some toys stashed away somewhere.‖ Thomas‘s face brightened. ―Yes, of course. The attic. There must be hundreds of old toys packed away up there.‖ He made as if to stand, but Andrew looked stern and brandished the fireplace poker at him. ―Sit down. We‘ll have tea

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 102 first. Then you can go scavenge about in the dusty attic to your heart‘s content.‖ This got a smile out of Thomas as he fell back into the chair. ―Really, Andrew. We might as well be married.‖ Andrew didn‘t find that amusing. He gave up on the dead ashes in the fireplace and placed the poker back in its stand. ―We are not married, Thomas.‖ ―I was merely joking,‖ Thomas said, looking wounded. ―You needn‘t get upset about it.‖ Yes, it’s all very amusing, isn’t it? A wonderful lark— playing at it, like an exotic new game? Andrew supposed this new fascination Thomas had for his perverse nature was preferable to the man being horrified and unable to be near him. But it was distasteful, nonetheless. They were interrupted by the arrival of tea. The tiny little waif who brought it had also brought some scones and crumpets, with strawberry curd and clotted cream. Andrew liked neither, but Thomas was inclined to sweet things, when his stomach was up to it. She bowed and left. Andrew was longing for that bath now, but settled for pouring two cups of tea. It was too hot to drink, but holding the cup and smelling the aromatic steam served to perk him up a bit. ―I‘m surprised to see you up so early,‖ he commented. ―I pray you‘re not becoming one of those horrid people who enjoys mornings.‖ He‘d meant it as a joke, but Thomas looked put out. ―You keep ordering me from your room at night. I‘ve had no choice but to go to sleep early.‖ Andrew didn‘t have a response for that. Being around Thomas right now was so difficult, and doubly so when they

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 103 were alone together late at night, with nothing to distract them from the tension they now felt around each other. The bath water arrived, or at least the first couple buckets. Andrew and Thomas sipped their tea in silence while the servants bustled back and forth with it. When the men had at last departed, and the porcelain tub was brimming with steaming water, Andrew set his tea down and said, ―Perhaps you‘ll excuse me while I bathe.‖ ―Oh, Andrew,‖ Thomas said with an irritated sigh, ―why must you insist on keeping things awkward between us. I would like to have another cup of tea while you bathe, as I have hundreds of time in London.‖ Andrew frowned, but again could think of no real reason to insist that Thomas leave. Truthfully, the main reason he felt uncomfortable was because it was all so self-conscious now. But perhaps Thomas was correct that returning to old habits would ease the discomfort. ―Very well,‖ Andrew replied, stripping off his undershirt. ―Have your tea, then.‖ It was while he was testing the water with his hand that he glanced over and noticed Thomas looking at him intently. It wasn‘t an innocent look, but one that seemed to be taking in every detail of his naked body—not exactly lecherous, but not exactly the way one man generally looked at another, either. ―What is it, Thomas? As you say, you‘ve seen me bathe hundreds of times before.‖ Thomas didn‘t reply straight away, but set his tea down and came over to stand in front of him. His expression was quite earnest. ―I suppose I‘ve been wondering… you described my body as beautiful last night.‖ ―To me.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 104 ―I was wondering if I would find yours to be beautiful as well,‖ Thomas continued, ―if I took a moment to look at it closely.‖ Andrew couldn‘t stop himself from blushing. ―That‘s rather awkward, don‘t you think?‖ ―I‘m sorry.‖ He didn‘t seem inclined to stop his examination, so Andrew straightened up and made a gesture of surrender. ―Look your fill, then. I daresay you won‘t find it any more interesting now than you‘ve found it for the past three years.‖

THAT was far from the truth, Thomas reflected. While he‘d never given much thought to Andrew‘s body in the past, he was finding it fascinating now. The man‘s skin was pale, but not colorless—more of a faint golden color, and so smooth as to remind Thomas of satin. His shape was much different from that of the women Thomas had seen, of course. But though it was muscular, it was not comprised of harsh angles, as he might have expected. Somehow Andrew‘s shoulders and chest seemed defined by soft curves, and the tautly muscled abdomen might be described as… sensuous. On either side of his stomach, gentle s-shaped curves mirrored each other, leading down into the blond hair below, slightly darker than that on his head. Really, by any artistic standard, Thomas thought, it was quite lovely. He couldn‘t resist reaching out his hand—not to touch that intimate area between Andrew‘s thighs, but merely to slide his fingertips along the soft ridges of his friend‘s abdomen.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 105 It was obvious that Andrew was beginning to find this arousing. The blond cleared his throat and turned away. ―Really, Thomas, this is becoming embarrassing. May I have my bath now?‖ Thomas took a deep breath, feeling as though he were coming out of a state of drowsiness. ―Of course.‖ Andrew stepped into the hot water and lowered himself slowly, to acclimate himself to the temperature. ―Have you concluded that I‘m hideous?‖ he asked with a smile. On the contrary, Thomas had concluded that he found Andrew quite attractive. Disturbingly so, in fact. He went to sit down before his own arousal became too apparent through the thin linen of his undershirt. ―Not at all,‖ he said, trying to sound casual. ―You‘re quite well put together, I‘d say.‖ For the first time in what seemed like an eternity—though it had really only been a couple days—Andrew gave him one of those genuine, sweet smiles that Thomas was so fond of, blushing a bit at the same time. ―I suppose I should say ‗thank you‘. But really, Thomas, you shouldn‘t dwell on this. It‘s not in your nature to be attracted to men, and you shouldn‘t try to force it, however much you might desire to understand it.‖ Wasn‘t it in his nature? Thomas was no longer absolutely certain. He picked up his tea and sipped at it, lost in thought while Andrew washed himself. When his friend stood and toweled off, he couldn‘t resist taking another look, out of the corner of his eye. What was happening to him? Was Andrew corrupting him? Not directly, of course—Andrew would never deliberately harm him. But was being around him itself enough to cause Thomas to have… unnatural desires?

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 106 The idea seemed absurd, and he quickly dismissed it. He refused to believe anything concerning Andrew could be harmful to him. Andrew was the most important person in the world to him. ―Do you intend to go bathe yourself, before going downstairs?‖ Andrew asked. ―You‘re looking a bit disheveled.‖ ―I‘ll bathe here, if you don‘t mind. There isn‘t time to have fresh water brought to my room.‖ Andrew hesitated before stepping out of the tub to dry his legs and feet. ―As you wish.‖ Thomas was conscious of Andrew deliberately not looking at him as he stripped out of his undershirt and stepped into the tub, and had to laugh. ―Oh, Andrew. You let me stare directly at you a few moments ago. There‘s no need to pretend you‘re looking away now.‖ Andrew looked grim as he fastened the buttons on his trousers. ―It‘s different, and you know it.‖ ―No, I don‘t see that it is. If I can look at you, you are certainly welcome to look at me. ‗Look your fill‘, as you put it. I don‘t mind in the least.‖ ―Thomas, you‘re becoming needlessly vulgar, ever since we‘ve begun discussing this subject. A gentleman does not stare at another while bathing or dressing. I certainly hope you don‘t start behaving this way around others at the club.‖ Thomas made a rude noise, but let the conversation drop as he settled into the hot water and dowsed his hair in it.

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Chapter 17 THE attic in the west wing, where the nursery resided, was enormous and, as Andrew had predicted, extremely dusty. But this is where Nanny Katie had suggested they might find old toys from the previous generations of Barringtons. The twins had insisted on joining Thomas and Andrew in their quest, and were having far too much fun rummaging through crates and ancient wooden trunks, stirring up so much dust that Andrew could barely breathe. ―What do little girls like?‖ Hew asked, holding up a battered tin whistle. Thomas shrugged. ―I have no idea.‖ Duncan had turned up an old drum with a torn drumhead. He held it up to Andrew for consideration, but the blond shook his head. ―I don‘t think Susan would be interested in joining a marching band. And Katie would go into conniptions, listening to her charge banging about all day long.‖ Duncan laughed. ―I‘d like to see that!‖ ―You, sir,‖ Andrew said, smiling, ―are no gentlemen.‖ Hew made a rude noise. ―No, sir, he ain‘t.‖ ―I‘m more of a gentleman than you‘ll ever be!‖ Duncan retorted, looking as though he might be preparing to knock his brother‘s teeth out.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 108 Andrew thought it wise to intervene. ―Perhaps you can beat him soundly later. But for now we need to find a present for Susan.‖ Thomas was rummaging through one of the large trunks in a back corner, for the most part ignoring his companions. Suddenly, he cried out. The other three looked up in surprise. ―Yes?‖ Andrew inquired. Thomas held up an old doll with a delicately carved, painted wooden face, and real black hair. Andrew walked up to him and examined its intricately sewn pale blue dress. ―She‘s about thirty years out of fashion,‖ he commented. ―She‘s beautiful,‖ Thomas said defensively. ―Don‘t you think so?‖ Andrew brushed a cobweb out of the doll‘s hair. ―I think Susan will love her.‖

THERE was nobody in the nursery when they went by, so Thomas and Andrew went down to the dining room. There they found the entire family—the duke, Duchess Barrington, Edward, Susan, and Rebecca‘s family, as well—sitting down at the large dining table to a sumptuous breakfast. Two of the duke‘s hounds lay sleeping by the fireplace. Cook had prepared an amazing array of rolls and pastries, with tea and coffee and hot chocolate. ―Good morning, Thomas!‖ Duchess Barrington exclaimed when they walked in. ―And Mr. Nash! Happy Christmas to both of you! I do hope you slept well.‖ ―Yes, Mother,‖ Thomas replied. ―Happy Christmas.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 109 ―Uncle Thomas!‖ Susan shouted, leaping down from her chair and racing across the room to throw her arms around his legs. ―Happy Christmas, poppet,‖ Thomas said, picking her up and kissing her on the cheek. ―We have a present for you.‖ ―A present?‖ the little girl asked, her eyes sparkling. ―Yes, but not until after breakfast. So you‘d best go back and finish eating.‖ He transferred her to Andrew for a kiss. Then his friend set her down so she could return to the table. ―Isn‘t the snow lovely this morning?‖ Rebecca asked. ―Simply gorgeous,‖ Duchess Barrington enthused. ―It puts me in mind of the sleigh rides we used to take across the pastures, when I was a young girl.‖ ―Oh! A sleigh ride! That would be so delightful.‖ Thomas had been saved a seat beside Rebecca, much to his annoyance, but he did his best to appear pleased as he sat down. The tea Rebecca poured for him smelled inviting, after the pervasive smell of dust in the attic. ―We have a sleigh,‖ he asked, ―Don‘t we, Edward?‖ His brother didn‘t look enthusiastic about the prospect of a sleigh ride, but he said, ―I believe so. In the stables. I don‘t think it‘s been used in years.‖ ―We must send someone out to see about it,‖ Duchess Barrington said firmly. ―A sleigh ride would be just the thing on a morning like this.‖ Rebecca‘s mother looked disapproving. ―Not for me, thank you. I prefer to remain warm by the fire on days like this.‖ ―Of course,‖ Duchess Barrington said with a fluttering laugh. ―I was merely suggesting it for the younger ones.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 110 ―I think it would be lovely,‖ Rebecca persisted. ―You will join me, won‘t you, Thomas? Edward? And you too, Mr. Nash?‖ Edward looked extremely uncomfortable, and it was out of some perverse desire to goad his brother that Thomas said, ―Do come along, Edward. It will be tremendous fun. Susan would love it.‖ ―I really have a lot of work to do –― ―Nonsense,‖ Duchess Barrington interrupted. ―Nobody works on Christmas. Do they, Henry?‖ The duke had largely been ignoring everyone as he devoured a large plate of bacon and eggs, but he glanced at his wife, then at his eldest son, before saying, ―I‘m sure you can manage to be social for one day, Edward.‖ Edward looked annoyed, but declined to argue further.

AFTER breakfast, Thomas fetched the doll for Susan, telling her, ―This is from me and Uncle Andrew, and Hew and Duncan, as well.‖ ―She‘s beautiful!‖ Susan said, so excited she could hardly stop bouncing. ―Say ‗thank you‘, Susan,‖ Katie reminded her. ―Thank you!‖ As Susan took her new doll with her up to the nursery, Duchess Barrington took Thomas and Andrew aside and told them, ―That was one of the dolls I had as a young girl. Your grandfather brought her back from France. I haven‘t seen her in… oh! It‘s been ages!‖ ―I‘m sorry, Mother,‖ Thomas said, looking surprised, ―I should have asked you if you knew who the doll belonged to.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 111 His mother waved a hand dismissively. ―That‘s quite all right. It‘s wonderful to see her brought down from the attic. I hope Susan loves her as much as I did.‖ Simcox came into the sitting room a short while later to inform all present that the sleigh had been brought out of the stable and cleaned off, and one of the grooms was harnessing a horse to it. ―I suppose we‘re doomed to go riding, then,‖ Thomas murmured to Andrew under his breath, amused. They had managed to separate themselves from the others momentarily, to warm themselves by the fireplace, sipping some of the excellent rum punch Cook had provided. ―Surely you aren‘t including me in this plan.‖ ―I most certainly am,‖ Thomas stated. ―The sleigh is a fourseater. We‘ll bring Susan along, but she can sit between us.‖ Andrew groaned. The last thing he wanted was to watch Rebecca cuddling up to Thomas for the duration of the ride. Then he realized what Thomas had just said. ―Between us? Don‘t you think Rebecca will want to sit with you?‖ Thomas glanced at the others, before nodding subtly to the door and walking away from the fireplace. Andrew had no idea what he was up to, but decided to take his cue from the lord and followed him into the entrance hall. Safely out of the others‘ hearing, Thomas still kept his voice low. ―Rebecca isn‘t any more interested in me than I am in her. She‘s simply putting on a good show for our families.‖ Andrew raised an eyebrow. ―Interesting. Tell me, did Edward know Rebecca before he married Anne?‖ ―Of course. She attended several balls here, when we were younger.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 112 Andrew was beginning to piece things together in his head, and he didn‘t like the picture that was emerging. ―Thomas, are you certain—‖ ―There you two are!‖ Rebecca exclaimed, coming out of the sitting room. She was leading Edward by the hand, and he looked even less enthused than Andrew felt. ―Shall we fetch Susan now? I‘m so looking forward to the ride. Aren‘t you? It will be the perfect thing to do on Christmas!‖

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Chapter 18 THE moment she saw the sleigh, Susan demanded to sit up front. Edward was carrying her, and he looked a bit put out. ―I was going to have you sit with me, Susan.‖ ―You can sit in front with me, Daddy.‖ ―Of course,‖ Thomas interjected, before Edward could say anything further, ―you and Susan sit up front with Rebecca. Andrew and I don‘t mind the back seat.‖ Edward was beginning to get flustered. ―But surely Rebecca would like to sit with you.‖ ―Rebecca has been so excited about the ride,‖ Thomas said quickly, giving the young woman a significant look. ―I‘m sure she‘d love to sit up front with you two.‖ Rebecca returned his look with a knowing smile, and immediately said, ―That would be lovely, Thomas. Thank you.‖ Edward looked very confused, and he was obviously at a loss for words. But he allowed himself to be bundled into the front seat of the sleigh with Rebecca and Susan, the little girl sitting between the two adults with a large wool blanket draped over the legs of all three. As he had intended, this put Thomas in the back seat with Andrew, sitting with a wool blanket stretched over both of their legs. His primary motivation had been to avoid sitting with Rebecca, of course—she was a perfectly nice young woman, but the less time they spent together, the better it would be for the both of them. He suspected she felt the same.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 114 But he was also quite pleased to be sitting with Andrew. Edward gave the reigns a snap and the sleigh jerked forward. He guided the speckled gray horse out of the stable yard and into one of the back fields. The groom had fastened sleigh bells onto the horse‘s bridle, so the expedition was accompanied by their merry tinkling as the sleigh glided along the low, snow-covered hills. Susan shrieked with delight whenever the sleigh dipped after climbing a hill, and she found a kindred spirit in Rebecca. The two clung to each other, laughing—a wonderful contrast to Susan‘s shyness a couple days ago—and even Edward seemed to be having a good time, laughing along with the two of them. The sleigh wasn‘t terribly wide, so Thomas and Andrew were forced to sit with their hips and legs pressed together. This suited Thomas fine. He was coming to terms with the fact that he enjoyed being close to Andrew. Perhaps he even enjoyed it more than might be considered proper. The warmth of Andrew‘s thigh pressed against his own felt good to him, and he found himself longing for more of their bodies to be touching. The tightening he felt in the crotch of his trousers was beginning to be a familiar sensation whenever he thought of Andrew, and he no longer felt the need to resist it. What was the point in fighting against it? If he enjoyed being close to Andrew, and Andrew enjoyed being close to him, then why should it be anyone else‘s concern? The other question, of course, was, did Andrew enjoy being close to him? At the moment, he certainly didn‘t look as though he were enjoying it. His face was positively grim as he looked out over the fields. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding Thomas‘s gaze. During the course of the ride, as the sleigh lurched on occasion, Thomas allowed his right hand to slip off his lap,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 115 underneath the wool blanket, and come to rest against Andrew‘s thigh. Andrew didn‘t appear to notice, though Thomas thought he detected a slight muscular twitch in the man‘s jaw. Emboldened, he slowly slid his hand along Andrew‘s trousers, cautiously, as though Andrew were a timid animal that might bolt if startled. Eventually, his hand was resting on top of Andrew‘s thigh. Andrew glanced down, though Thomas‘s hand was still hidden under the blanket. He looked a bit startled.

THERE was no mistaking the gesture for an accidental touch. Thomas was doing it deliberately. Andrew‘s breath quickened, and he could feel the tightening in his groin. Thank God for the blanket! What could be going through Thomas‘s head? Had he completely lost his mind? His curiosity about Andrew‘s sexual proclivities was beginning to be disturbing. Did he really want to go as far as actually ending up in bed together? Andrew was beginning to suspect that he did. Thomas had always been inclined to rash decisions and had a very strong tendency toward hedonism. No doubt the man thought it would be an exciting adventure—something new that few people dared to try. And perhaps he would even enjoy it. Then, when it was all over, he would rapidly grow bored. Perhaps even disgusted. He might decide he could no longer face Andrew, once they‘d crossed that threshold, and they could no longer look at one another without remembering the feel of each other‘s bodies; the way the other smelled and tasted….

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 116 But even if Thomas‘s reaction wasn‘t that severe, the idea of him wanting to continue a sexual relationship seemed remote. If Thomas were merely a handsome young man looking for a brief dalliance, Andrew might go along with it. But he loved Thomas. More than he could ever put into words. And the thought of Thomas actually falling in love with him was positively ludicrous. So how could Andrew make love to the one person he‘d ever truly loved, knowing full well that it would be the one and only time? He couldn‘t. It would destroy him. If only he could get Thomas to understand…. Suddenly there was a blur of reddish fur and a puff of snow off to their left. ―Uncle Thomas!‖ Susan cried out, laughing as she struggled to turn around in the seat, ―I saw a fox!‖ Even though his hand was still well hidden under the blanket, Thomas quickly removed it from Andrew‘s leg. Apparently, he still had some sense of propriety left. ―Yes, poppet,‖ he replied, smiling at her, while Rebecca firmly pulled the little girl back into her seat. ―I saw it too.‖ ―We‘re lucky we didn‘t all see you bounce out of the sled into a snow bank,‖ Rebecca chided the girl. ―Now why don‘t you get back under the blanket before you get cold?‖ ―Can we have hot chocolate when we get back?‖ Susan asked, snuggling into the crook of Rebecca‘s arm. ―Of course we can, sweetheart,‖ Edward replied. Andrew was pleased to see him smiling affectionately at his daughter. Perhaps it would become a habit.

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Chapter 19 IT

WASN‘T much longer before Rebecca proclaimed that it was

time to return to the hall, because Susan was beginning to shiver. Thomas was frankly relieved. He was famished and he suspected Andrew was, as well, since neither had eaten a thing for breakfast. And Andrew was still determined to ignore him, which he was finding irritating. Edward directed their trustworthy stallion back to the stable yard. The groom took possession of it and the sleigh, and the chilled passengers all raced through the falling snow to get inside and warm themselves by the fire. It was after they‘d been settled in the sitting room by the fire, all sipping steaming cups of cinnamon-spiced hot chocolate, that Edward asked to have a private word with Thomas. Thomas raised an eyebrow, but followed him out of the sitting room without saying anything. Edward led the way into his study and shut the door behind them. ―I don‘t know how to say this,‖ Edward began, looking as if he might be ill. ―You‘ll think I‘m being absolutely horrid. I shan‘t blame you if you never speak to me again.‖ ―Edward,‖ Thomas said, laughing, ―You‘re behaving very oddly. Perhaps you need a drink.‖ His brother sighed and went to a small table in the corner, where a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses were already laid out. He uncorked it and poured two shots.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 118 ―Thomas,‖ he said, as he handed one glass to his brother, ―I have a confession to make.‖ He turned away and leaned his elbow on the fireplace mantel. ―I never loved my wife.‖ Thomas froze with his glass half raised to his lips. He wasn‘t certain if he was shocked or not. He‘d left shortly after Edward married Anne, so he‘d seen little of them as husband and wife. ―Then why did you marry her?‖ he asked finally. Edward downed the contents of his glass. ―Father wanted me to marry her.‖ ―Father!‖ ―Her family owned a large amount of land, and Father thought it a wise marriage.‖ ―You can‘t be serious, Edward!‖ Edward turned to give him a sharp look. ―He was only looking out for the best interests of our family, Thomas.‖ ―Well,‖ his brother retorted, ―you‘ve certainly done well by the family, in that case. I forget—how many acres did your marriage to Anne acquire for us?‖ ―You needn‘t be so crude, Thomas! You‘re hardly in a position to pass judgment on me. You‘ve done nothing but cost Father money since you ran out on Rebecca.‖ Thomas could hardly deny that. But he wasn‘t about to let the duke force him into a marriage of convenience. ―Is this all you brought me in here for? Recriminations and a confession that you married for property?‖ ―No!‖ Edward snapped. Then he took a breath to calm himself and said, ―Thomas, let us sit down and talk like adults. Please. Surely we can manage that for a few moments?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 119 Thomas sighed and threw back the contents of his glass. ―Very well. But I think we may both need more whiskey.‖ A flicker of a smile passed across his brother‘s face, and Edward went to retrieve the bottle. There was a settee in front of the fire and the brothers settled into it, Thomas holding his shot glass up for Edward to refill it. ―Anne was really a lovely woman,‖ Edward said seriously. ―I don‘t know if she loved me. I like to think we were at the least fond of one another.‖ Thomas cleared his throat uncomfortably, choosing to take a sip of his whiskey rather than comment. He really preferred something a bit smoother, but Edward had always preferred simple, straightforward drinks to anything sweet. It was yet another way in which he was like their father. ―I‘ve been thinking things over since last night,‖ Edward continued. ―And today made me all the more certain….‖ He seemed about to say more but trailed off, to Thomas‘s immense irritation. Was he ever going to get to the point? ―Edward, you‘re my brother,‖ he said, ―and I certainly have no objection to sharing a drink with you. But you gave me the impression that there was something upsetting you. If so, then please… what is it?‖ Edward drank down his second shot of the fiery liquid. ―Thomas… it really is dreadful, I know. But… I‘m still in love with Rebecca.‖ He obviously interpreted the shocked stare that Thomas gave him as a look of horror, because he rushed ahead. ―I‘m sorry. If I were truly a gentleman, I would have said nothing. I would have taken the secret to my grave, rather than burden you with it. But I‘ve been keeping it hidden for so long—‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 120 Thomas blinked at him incredulously. ―Wait a moment. What do you mean, you‘re still in love with Rebecca?‖ ―I‘ve loved her ever since we met, over seven years ago.‖ ―Does Rebecca know this?‖ ―Yes. We had promised ourselves to each other, over a year before… Father intervened.‖ For the first time in many years, Thomas had the urge to throw his brother to the floor and pummel some sense into him. But Edward looked so miserable, he took pity on him. ―Oh, Edward. You were a fool then, and you‘re a fool now. Why are you wasting your time apologizing to me, when you should be on your knees, begging Rebecca‘s forgiveness?‖ Edward was obviously a bit intoxicated, because he looked closer to tears than Thomas could ever conceive of him being when he was sober. ―I thought perhaps you had changed your mind about marrying her,‖ he said quietly. ―She is an intelligent woman and very lovely,‖ Thomas replied, ―but I have no intention of marrying her. And she has no desire to marry me, either.‖ Edward looked down at his shot glass, until Thomas took the bottle from his other hand and filled the glass for him. ―She must hate me,‖ Edward said quietly. ―She certainly should,‖ Thomas agreed, pouring himself another glass. ―But if you grovel enough, she may eventually forgive you.‖

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Chapter 20 IN MIDAFTERNOON, a group of about forty villagers trudged the long distance to Barrington Hall through the falling snow to regale the duke and his family with Christmas carols. They were welcomed into the warm entrance hall, where both fires were blazing, and enormous punch bowls were brought out. These contained a steaming wassail brew—Cook‘s secret recipe—a potent mix of ale, cider, and spices guaranteed to thaw out even the most recalcitrant of snowmen. For the children and the more pious adults, an equally delicious hot mulled cider was served. There were also platters of gingerbread cookies and slices of plum pudding. The latter had been purchased in the village, as Cook had certainly not had time to prepare it herself, but it was nonetheless quite delicious. Duchess Barrington insisted that the two large Christmas trees in the entrance hall be lit before the caroling began, so Simcox had Hew and Duncan summoned to accomplish the task. Then the carolers sang, and nearly everybody joined in except the duke, whom Andrew suspected never sang, and Susan, who had never heard the songs before. She did eventually pick up on some of the choruses and shyly sang along, encouraged by her father, who was bellowing loudly off key, and appeared to be just a bit on the tipsy side. It was, Andrew reflected, a welcome change from Edward‘s normally uptight demeanor. The earl had been in a much more cheerful

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 122 mood ever since he and Thomas had emerged from the study a couple hours ago. Thomas himself was a bit in his cups, as well, and joined in the singing with fervor and a complete lack of talent. Andrew had always been torn as to whether he found this annoying or endearing, but now that his shock over Thomas‘s behavior in the sleigh had worn off, he found himself watching his friend out of the corner of his eye and marveling at how adorable he looked with his hair just a bit tousled from being outside. Perhaps it was due to the punch, but he found himself overwhelmed with affection for the scoundrel, and had to look away to avoid giving his feelings away to all of those present. The carolers themselves had lovely singing voices. Apparently, they were all in the choir at the local parish, and Duchess Barrington gave the vicar a generous donation for the church coffers, as well as handing out coins to each of the carolers on their way out. Everyone retired to their rooms to dress before dinner, and Andrew found himself following Thomas rather closely to prevent him from tumbling down the stairs in his inebriated condition. ―Really, Thomas,‖ he chided, ―don‘t you think it‘s a bit early in the day?‖ Thomas turned to face him, an impish smile on his face. ―Blame my idiot brother. He thought he had to get me drunk before telling me he was in love with my fiancée.‖ ―What?‖ Andrew had barely heard anything beyond the words ―my fiancée.‖ Thomas laughed at him, walking backward down the hall. ―Oh, Andrew. You should see your face.‖ ―Bother my face!‖ Andrew said crossly. ―Tell me what you‘re talking about.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 123 ―Edward is in love with Rebecca.‖ Andrew glanced quickly around to make certain nobody was within hearing, then spoke with his voice lowered. ―I thought as much. But I hardly see that it matters. If you have some idea that he‘ll take Rebecca off your hands now, I should like to remind you that he broke her heart to marry another woman. He‘ll be lucky if she doesn‘t put arsenic in his eggnog.‖ Thomas merely laughed and trotted off down the hallway, then allowed his shoes to slide along the polished wooden floor until he came to a stop in front of Andrew‘s door. He reminded Andrew of a young boy horsing around, and the blond couldn‘t help but smile. ―That‘s my room,‖ he said, ―your clothes are in your room.‖ ―Aren‘t I allowed to go into your room?‖ ―Not until you dress. Dinner is in under a half hour.‖ Thomas made a rude noise at him, but went down the hall and disappeared into his own room. It was only a short time later, though, that there was a knock on the door between their two rooms. Andrew groaned. He was only half dressed, and he seriously doubted that Thomas had had time to dress, either. He threw the door open and snapped, ―Since when do you knock?‖ Thomas was leaning against the door frame, looking pleased with himself, with his left arm resting casually up over his head. As Andrew had feared, the man was in complete disarray. His shirt collar was unbuttoned and the shirttails still dangled out of his waistband. ―I got lonely,‖ Thomas said. ―Don‘t be absurd. Now go finish dressing, before you make us late for dinner.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 124 When Thomas continued to look at him with a silly smile on his face, Andrew said, ―What? Why are you grinning like an idiot?‖ ―Look up.‖ Andrew did so, and saw that Thomas‘s left hand held a piece of mistletoe, dangling it over his own head. Andrew gritted his teeth in frustration. This was really too much. ―No, Thomas. I will not kiss you.‖ ―You have to. It‘s incredibly bad luck if you don‘t. Just ask Hew.‖ ―It‘s a silly superstition. And you know perfectly well that Hew was referring to a man kissing a woman—or, in his case, a girl. Certainly not two men kissing.‖ Thomas examined the mistletoe for a moment. ―I think this particular bit of mistletoe looks quite favorably inclined to the idea of you kissing me.‖ Andrew rolled his eyes. ―I‘m sure it is. But I don‘t feel like it, at the moment.‖ Indeed, at the moment, he was beginning to feel very annoyed. Thomas‘s games often amused him, but this one was less amusing than disturbing. What if he should behave this way in front of the servants, or other members of the household? Men could be incarcerated—or even hanged—for ―games‖ such as these. ―Really, Andrew,‖ his friend persisted, ―I think you‘re being very unfair. I didn‘t tell you ‗No thanks, I‘m not in the mood‘ when you kissed me, now did I?‖ Andrew was starting to get flustered. ―I‘m sorry, Thomas. I feel dreadful about that—‖ ―Nonsense. I don‘t want you to feel dreadful. I simply want you to do it again when I‘m awake enough to see if I enjoy it.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 125 So that was it. Damn Thomas and his single-minded nature! There would be no steering him away from this foolish idea now that it was lodged in his head. Andrew could refuse from now until doomsday, and Thomas would persist in wanting to try it. ―All right, then,‖ Andrew practically snarled, ―one kiss! Then you stop this nonsense and finish dressing.‖ ―As you like.‖ Feeling incredibly awkward, Andrew leaned in for the kiss, but Thomas stopped him with a raised hand. ―No quick peck, mind you. I‘m no child. Kiss me the way you kissed me two nights ago.‖ ―Fine. Just get your hand out of the way.‖ He didn‘t see how he could possibly put any passion into it, as irritated as he was. But the moment their lips touched, he felt as if his entire body were being engulfed in flame. This time, Thomas wasn‘t simply lying there, passive with shock. He grabbed Andrew and pulled him close, pressing their bodies together as if he wanted to merge them into one. The rapid hardening between his legs was proof that this was more than mere curiosity for him. He pressed his arousal into Andrew‘s own, grinding their hips together in frustration. Andrew had thought the kiss would be timid, or perhaps made silly by drunken fumbling. But Thomas pressed their lips together with a passionate intensity that made Andrew shudder, invading his mouth with his tongue. Andrew‘s head was swimming, holding him so tightly, he might rebelled at the thought of Thomas his body felt the heat coming off of melting all resistance.

and if Thomas hadn‘t been have collapsed. His mind actually desiring him, but the man, searing into him,

He wants me. My God, he wants me!

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THOMAS wasn‘t nearly as drunk as he was pretending to be. He‘d been thinking about kissing Andrew ever since the sleigh ride, and had swiped the snip of mistletoe just before they headed upstairs to change. Yes, it had been manipulative and rather ignoble of him, but Andrew was being so difficult about it, and Thomas had to know how it would feel. Andrew had awakened desires in him that he had never experienced before. And now he seemed to think Thomas should simply ignore what he was feeling. But that was impossible. Thomas had to find out whether these desires were mere curiosity, or something deeper. And if Andrew wouldn‘t play fair, then Thomas wouldn‘t play fair, either. The kiss proved to him what he‘d already begun to suspect. The soft sweetness of Andrew‘s lips and the feel of that taut muscular body in his arms far surpassed anything Thomas had ever experienced with a woman. From the moment they touched, a hunger welled up in Thomas that he knew, with absolute certainty, would never be satisfied by anyone other than Andrew. He was lost, fallen into the abyss Andrew had warned him to stay far away from. But he was glad. He might have gone through his entire life without knowing the pure ecstatic joy he was now feeling in Andrew‘s embrace. He might never have tasted these lips; felt Andrew‘s hot breath against his face. He would have remained in Purgatory forever, never seeing Heaven—not even for a moment. And for this moment, he would gladly risk all the tortures of Hell. There was a soft knock at the door, and Andrew flew away from him just as one of the servants entered Andrew‘s room. It

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 127 was the same young man who had attended to Thomas in his room the night before. ―Dinner will be served in a few minutes, sir.‖ The boy was startled to see Thomas standing in the doorway. He executed an awkward bow. ―Your Lordship.‖ Andrew looked flustered as he walked over to his bed, where his dinner clothes were laid out. ―Yes, thank you.‖ ―May I be of further assistance, sir? Your Lordship?‖ ―No, thank you, Percy,‖ Thomas answered. ―We‘ll be down soon.‖ Percy bowed again and left, closing the door softly behind him. ―You really should finish dressing,‖ Andrew said without looking at Thomas. ―Yes, I suppose.‖ Thomas hesitated, wanting to say more, though Andrew had closed himself off again. The man was so immensely frustrating at times. Would this be what loving him would be like? One minute full of passion; the next, distant and unreachable? It surprised Thomas that the idea of being Andrew‘s lover had come so easily to mind. But the moment he thought it, he knew that it was what he wanted. He‘d never wanted anything so much in his life. ―That was nice,‖ he finally said, awkwardly, feeling that the words were vastly inaccurate. ―Very nice.‖ Andrew touched his own lips briefly, almost absentmindedly, but still refused to look up. Damn him. ―Yes. I thought so. I suppose I‘m glad you didn‘t find it repulsive.‖ Angered now, Thomas strode across the room and grabbed the blond by both shoulders, whirling him around. ―No,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 128 damnation! I didn‘t find it repulsive. I‘ve never found anything about you repulsive. I think you‘re the most beautiful thing I‘ve ever seen. I could kiss you for the rest of my life.‖ Andrew was still resisting him, his hands pressed against Thomas‘s chest to keep him from getting too close. ―Thomas—‖ ―I love you, you fool! Why can‘t you accept that?‖ Andrew shoved him hard, forcing him to break away. The blond‘s angelic features were contorted with anger. ―Stop it, Thomas! You forget how well I know you—how many times I‘ve heard you profess your undying love for whichever silly young chit graced your bed the night before.‖ Thomas couldn‘t deny it. His passionate nature had frequently led him to wax poetic about his current infatuations. Never, thank God, to the women themselves, but Andrew had heard it more times than Thomas could remember. ―It‘s different with you, Andrew,‖ he said, his words sounding trite, even to himself. ―Go get downstairs.‖

dressed,

Thomas.

They‘re

waiting

for

us

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Chapter 21 DINNER was an ordeal for Andrew. He was seated across from Thomas, which meant that every time he glanced up, he was either catching the Thomas‘s eye, and that damnable smirk the man kept giving him, or he was having to endure Rebecca flirting with Thomas. This latter seemed particularly odd, given what he knew about Rebecca‘s lack of interest in the lord. But there was no mistaking the fact that she was flirting with him. Edward, seated near the head of the table, looked sullen, and Andrew finally realized what was happening: Rebecca was trying to make him jealous. And she was succeeding admirably. Did this mean she was still in love with Edward? Andrew suspected that the answer was ―yes,‖ but clearly she hadn‘t forgiven the idiot yet. He doubted that Edward had even had enough sense to try to apologize. Not that that would be enough. But it would be a start. Andrew tried to concentrate on the wonderful meal Cook had prepared—roast pheasant and sausage stuffing, and Yorkshire pudding, and hot rolls dripping with butter, all washed down with a delicately sweet red wine. But he couldn‘t get the kiss out of his mind. The taste and smell of Thomas still lingered, no matter how much he ate or drank, more heady and intoxicating than any wine. Andrew could still feel the roughness of Thomas‘s cheek against his own.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 130 How excruciatingly beautiful and agonizing it had been when Thomas told him, ―I love you.‖ For a moment, he‘d almost allowed himself to believe it. But it was a cruel phantasm. Nothing more. Thomas was a good soul, and no doubt he honestly believed he was in love. But Thomas was nothing if not mercurial. Some young chit would catch his eye again, and he would forget he‘d ever been foolish enough to entertain the thought of loving Andrew. It was tempting, to be sure, to give in. To at long last have the chance to explore that beautiful body, to take possession of it, even for just one night, would be the closest thing to Heaven Andrew could imagine ever experiencing in his lifetime. But the aftermath would be all the more hellish for it. Not only would it be excruciating when Thomas turned from him, but the lord might then find that he could no longer bear to be near Andrew at all. He accepted me as I am, and didn’t run away, Andrew reminded himself. I should be content with that, and try to preserve the friendship we have. But that wouldn‘t be easy. He realized that something was rubbing against his calf. It took a moment to identify that it was Thomas‘s foot. The bastard was flirting with him—in front of the entire family!

THE scowl on Andrew‘s face was precious, and Thomas almost choked on his food, trying to disguise a laugh. He withdrew his foot, his impish nature satisfied for the time being. But he had no intention of giving in to Andrew‘s refusals. Andrew had made the first move, damn it! He wanted Thomas. And now that he‘d had time to get used to the idea, Thomas wanted him.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 131 Why did the stubborn fool have to make everything so bloody difficult? To be truthful, Thomas could understand why his friend might not believe his declaration of love, considering Thomas‘s past romantic follies. Thomas knew that what he felt for Andrew was as different from those minor infatuations as Barrington Hall was from a farmer‘s hovel. He had loved Andrew for years, without realizing how deep his feelings ran. How could he have known? It hadn‘t been conceivable to him until Andrew‘s confession. But now that he was aware of it, it felt as solid and real to him as the stone floor under his feet. This was no passing infatuation. Andrew was a part of him; and he was a part of Andrew. Somehow he would have to prove himself to Andrew. How, he didn‘t know. But he would do whatever he had to. In the meantime, there was the problem of Edward and Rebecca. Miss Hudson was rather obviously overdoing the flirtation with him to spite his brother, and Edward was just as obviously falling for it—the poor, stupid ox. But Thomas was growing weary of being a participant in their little game. Not to mention the fact that his father was looking far too smug, as he watched what he believed to be Rebecca‘s attempts to ensnare Thomas. Something would have to be done. But again, he was at a loss as to what. ―I‘ve been considering returning to London,‖ Andrew suddenly announced, to nobody in particular. ―Perhaps tomorrow morning.‖ Thomas looked at him sharply. ―What?‖ Andrew met his gaze briefly, a defiant look in his eyes, before looking down again at his dinner. ―I‘m very grateful to you all for allowing me to spend the holiday here at Barrington,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 132 but I‘m afraid I have some pressing business matters that I should be getting back to as soon as I‘m able.‖ Oh, no you don’t, Thomas thought, irritated at this new development. You’re not running off until we’ve hashed this out. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mother came to his rescue. ―Oh, dear. I‘m afraid that‘s unlikely, Mr. Nash. At least for the next day or two. The roads are quite impassable, according to the servants.‖ ―Perhaps I could get a ride in the sleigh?‖ Andrew asked, perturbed. ―Just to the nearest town? I might be able to hire a carriage there.‖ The duke shook his head. ―The nearest town, beyond Barrington, is Tonbridge. And until it stops snowing, you won‘t find a carriage able to take you to London from there. And you won‘t find decent lodging there, either.‖ Thomas knew that his father considered all but the finest inns to be barbaric in their accommodations. The man added contemptuously, ―I won‘t hear of one of my guests spending the night in a local tavern.‖ Andrew glared at Thomas for a moment, as if this were somehow his fault. ―No doubt,‖ Thomas said, smiling sweetly at him, ―your business can wait another couple days.‖ ―I suppose it must.‖ Rebecca laughed gently. ―Surely we can manage to entertain you for a while longer, Mr. Nash.‖ ―Truthfully, I cannot imagine more entertaining company, Miss Hudson,‖ Andrew replied with a courteous nod of the head.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 133 AFTER dinner, the younger Barringtons and Rebecca gathered in the sitting room for a game of Snap Dragon. Susan insisted that Hew and Duncan be invited, which raised eyebrows among the older generation—it seemed to Andrew that Simcox was particularly put out, though the butler kept his opinion to himself. But Edward humored his daughter and sent for the twins. Rebecca announced she had no intention of sticking her hand into the flames and catching her dress sleeve on fire. She simply settled herself on the settee to watch. This gave Susan pause, as she‘d never played the game before, but Hew guffawed and told her, ―If you catch on fire, Miss Susan, we‘ll rush you out and toss you in a snow bank. Then you can make snow angels.‖ The little girl giggled and forgot her concerns for the moment. But when Simcox brought in the plate of rum-soaked raisins and prunes, and lit it on fire, her eyes went wide. ―Hurry, Miss Susan!‖ Duncan said, as he and Hew fought to grab some of the flaming raisins, alongside Edward, Thomas, and Andrew. ―You have to grab one before the fire goes out!‖ Susan frowned as she regarded the flaming dried fruit, looking for a moment when the flames might seem to lessen a bit. At last, she darted her tiny hand out and retrieved a small plum. But it was still on fire when she lifted it up, and she squeaked, letting it fall. Fortunately, the flame went out quickly, as it bounced off the edge of the table and onto the floor. Edward made a grab for it, but there was no more damage to the fine Persian carpet than a tiny wet spot. ―Thank goodness that didn‘t burn,‖ the earl said, laughing. ―Mother would have fainted dead away.‖ ―Perhaps you should move the game to the hearth,‖ Rebecca suggested.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 134 Hew made a rude noise at the suggestion, then quickly remembered his place. ―Begging your pardon, m‘lady. I meant no disrespect.‖ He looked a bit panic-stricken, but Rebecca smiled at him graciously. ―That‘s quite all right, Hew.‖ ―Watch your manners, young man,‖ Edward said pompously, ―or I shall have to call you out to defend Miss Hudson‘s honor.‖ Hew looked a bit wide-eyed at that, but Edward winked at him, and he relaxed. ―Yes, Your Lordship.‖ The dynamic between nobility and servants was interesting to Andrew, who had never had servants in his house when he was growing up. His family hadn‘t been poor, but the family import business hadn‘t really turned profitable until Andrew took it over. Indeed, in many clubs, a man of Thomas‘s rank would have very little association with a merchant, regardless of how financially successful he was. Their close friendship had placed Andrew in a position much coveted by many in London society. But he still felt that, in a very real way, he was much closer to Hew than to Edward. Edward and Hew both coached Susan further, until she was snapping up the flaming raisins and plums with something approaching expertise, laughing delightedly. She was only burned once, and that so slight she quickly forgot about it. They were all enjoying themselves immensely and completely forgot about the time. It was a shock when Nanny Katie appeared to bring Susan up to bed. The little girl threatened to pout about it, but everyone kissed her good night and reassured her that there would be lots of fun to be had tomorrow. Thus a tantrum was deftly averted.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 135 Once Susan had gone, Edward poured Rebecca a glass of wine, and another for himself. Andrew saw him glance significantly at his younger brother, and Thomas took the hint. ―If you don‘t mind,‖ Thomas said, smiling, ―I think I shall retire for the evening.‖ It was telling that Miss Hudson made no protest at this statement, though it was still a bit early in the evening. Andrew followed suit, and quickly excused himself to follow his friend upstairs. Whatever Edward planned to say to Rebecca, Andrew privately wished him well. He would need all the luck and charm he could muster. Andrew, on the other hand, had his own problems to contend with—namely Thomas. The man made no pretense of letting him escape when they came to Andrew‘s door. ―You‘re spending the night in my room,‖ Thomas said, in a tone that indicated he expected no argument on the subject. Andrew, however, wasn‘t intimidated. Yes, Thomas was the son of a duke, and yes, he was devastatingly handsome, but Andrew would be damned if he‘d be ordered about by someone he‘d nursed on more than one occasion when he was in bed with the sniffles. ―No,‖ he replied coldly, ―I‘m feeling a bit tired, so I think I‘ll turn in now. I‘ll see you in the morning.‖ He turned away, but Thomas slid his body between him and the door, propping his arm against the frame to block him. ―I‘ve had enough games, Andrew. My father manipulating me and Rebecca. Rebecca using me to manipulate Edward. My mother manipulating me to get her way. And you telling me you love me—that you‘ve loved me for years—then trying to run off to London when all I want to do is love you back!‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 136 Andrew didn‘t trust himself to look Thomas in the eye. ―You‘re not yourself, Thomas. Things will look different when we‘ve returned to London.‖ ―No, they will not,‖ Thomas practically growled at him. ―I know you think I‘m a spoiled child, Andrew. And God knows, in many ways, you‘re probably correct. But have you ever known me to lie to you, in the years we‘ve been together?‖ ―No, of course not. And I‘m certain you think you know your own mind now—‖ Thomas grabbed him and kissed him hard, before he could even finish speaking. Andrew lost all sense of what he was trying to say, and tumbled into the warmth and desire that kiss evoked in him, until he could no longer think of anything but the softness of those lips, the strength of the arms wrapped around his body, and the masculine firmness of the body pressed against him. The musky smell of Thomas‘s skin invaded his senses, and he returned the kiss with a passion that surprised him. He was hard in an instant, and felt Thomas‘s arousal pressing back against him, making him long for release. Thomas pulled away just enough to breathe in his ear, ―Damn you, Andrew. I know it will take time to prove my love to you. And I‘ll give you that time—all the rest of our lives, if I have any say in the matter. But it starts tonight. I‘ll give you a few minutes to undress. Then I want you to come to my room.‖ He opened Andrew‘s door and gestured toward it as he turned his body to allow Andrew entry. Then he slipped away to his own room. Andrew felt dazed. He went into his room, where a cozy fire was burning, lit by one of the servants, and closed his door behind him.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 137 Would he go? The thought of Thomas ordering him about like this irritated him. But in a way, Thomas was right. Only time would tell if Thomas was really in love with him, or if this was all merely an infatuation. And for the present, the man Andrew had been wanting ever since that night at the club three years ago, when they‘d met in the library and stayed up until dawn discussing the merits and flaws of Utilitarianism, wanted to make love to him. Would it be less painful to go to him, and risk rejection in the future? Or to push him away, now that Thomas finally seemed to want him and every muscle in Andrew‘s body was crying out for release?

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Chapter 22 THOMAS had stripped down to his undershirt and rinsed his face in the washbasin. Now he was poking at the fire, stirring the coals less because they needed it than because he couldn‘t settle down. Now that he was alone, he couldn‘t stop thinking about what an ass he‘d just made of himself. He wouldn‘t be surprised if Andrew locked the door between their rooms and refused to speak to him until they‘d returned to London—or beyond that. You’re spending the night in my room. My God, what had he been thinking? The door between the rooms opened quietly, and Thomas turned. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of Andrew standing in the darkened doorway, naked, the firelight in Thomas‘s room flickering soft orange over that beautiful golden skin. ―Andrew—‖ ―If you gloat,‖ the blond interrupted, looking sullen, ―I‘ll turn right back around and bar the door with the dresser.‖ Thomas set the fireplace poker back in its stand and went to his friend, touching his upper arm tentatively. ―I don‘t want to gloat, you fool. I want to love you.‖ Andrew appeared to relax somewhat, and Thomas leaned in to kiss him—not passionately, this time, but tenderly, hoping to reassure him. He took Andrew‘s hand and gently

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 139 pulled him into the room, closing the connecting door. Then he led him over to the bed and pulled down the bed sheets for him. Andrew sat down on the bed without a word, glancing up at Thomas with a look of vulnerability that tore at Thomas‘s heart. He suddenly realized just how frightened Andrew was. ―Surely you‘ve done this before?‖ ―With other men, you mean?‖ Andrew asked, looking away in embarrassment. ―Yes. A few times. Does that matter?‖ Thomas slipped out of his undershirt, pleased to see the way Andrew‘s eyes glanced up and slid unconsciously over his naked body. He reached out and slid his fingers gently along Andrew‘s cheek. ―No, my love. It doesn‘t matter. But why are you so nervous?‖ Andrew reached up to touch the hand on his cheek. ―What if you don‘t like it?‖ ―I already like it,‖ Thomas said softly, leaning down to kiss him firmly on the mouth. His arousal became obvious instantly, as did Andrew‘s. How, he wondered, could there be any doubt? But he could feel Andrew quivering as he moved his hand down along the man‘s neck and chest, along the soft, sensual ripples of his taut stomach and through that wonderful dark hair between his legs. Andrew whimpered as Thomas gripped him firmly, thrusting his tongue deep into his mouth at the same time. With his other hand, Thomas took one of Andrew‘s hands and guided it to his own hardness. ―This is what you do to me,‖ he whispered raggedly into Andrew‘s mouth, folding the blond‘s fingers around him. ―I have never wanted anybody as much as I want you.‖ He climbed onto the bed, straddling Andrew‘s hips, and saw his friend‘s eyes widen.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 140 ―What is it?‖ Andrew glanced down to where Thomas had allowed his buttocks to brush against Andrew‘s erection. But as Thomas shifted forward, the blond appeared to relax. ―It‘s nothing. I thought you were going to do something.‖ ―What?‖ ―Nothing. We‘ll discuss it some other time.‖ Thomas raised his eyebrow, wondering what that might mean, but decided not to pursue it. He guided Andrew to lie down, then lay on top of him, their naked bodies intertwined, as he kissed the blond all over his face and neck and shoulders. Andrew moaned beneath him, sliding his hands along Thomas‘s back and down to grip his buttocks, pulling their hips together as he ground upward. Their shafts slid alongside one another, growing slick with the fluid that leaked from them, enabling them to thrust harder and faster against their muscular stomachs. Thomas began to kiss lower and lower along Andrew‘s chest, taking first one nipple then the other between his lips. He nibbled at them gently, which caused Andrew to whimper in pleasure. Then he moved steadily downward, kissing along that beautiful stomach, until at last he was able to take Andrew‘s shaft into his mouth. Thomas had never tasted another man before. He hadn‘t worried that he wouldn‘t like it—it was inconceivable to him that he wouldn‘t like any part of Andrew‘s body. But he hadn‘t been sure what to expect. The taste was different than he‘d imagined, musky and unmistakably male, combined with the slightly sweet taste of the fluid they were both smearing against each other. He liked it. In fact, he found himself hungry for the taste and scent, like a man who was tasting an exotic new food

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 141 for the first time and wondering how he could ever have lived without it. ―Oh, my God, Andrew,‖ he gasped, ―you taste amazing!‖ Andrew laughed for the first time since they‘d begun. ―I‘m glad you like it. But now it‘s my turn.‖ He rotated his body, so that he could pleasure Thomas with his mouth, as Thomas was doing to him. The position wasn‘t new to him—he‘d done something similar with a couple of the less prudish women he‘d bedded—but never had he felt so determined to give the same pleasure he was receiving. Nay, not only determined, but privileged; honored! When he released into Andrew‘s mouth, riding the crest of a wave of ecstasy, his friend tried to pull out of Thomas‘s mouth, perhaps thinking that Thomas would find it disgusting. But Thomas held him fast in his arms, keeping Andrew‘s shaft deep inside, until he felt his friend spasm. He tasted the warmth that flooded into him, salty and slightly bitter, but so delicious because it was Andrew‘s essence. Breathless, they moved to lie in each other‘s arms, pulling the blankets over their damp skin, as they began to feel slightly chilled. They kissed for a long time, tasting themselves in each other‘s mouths and quickly growing hard again. Before they renewed their lovemaking, Thomas brushed his lips against Andrew‘s ear and said, panting, ―I know it‘s too soon. But years from now, when we are in the midst of doing this for the millionth time, I want you to whisper in my ear, ‗Thomas, I finally know that you love me.‘‖ Andrew smiled at him, his eyes full of undisguised warmth and adoration. ―I‘ll do that. But right now, I insist that you provide me with further proof.‖ ―Very well,‖ Thomas said, beginning to trace Andrew‘s left nipple with his tongue.

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Chapter 23 ANDREW woke up in Thomas‘s arms the next morning, still sleepy from the lord keeping him awake nearly all night long with his… attentions. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth lovemaking session, Andrew had decided that Thomas did indeed seem to enjoy it. Was Thomas truly in love with him? Well, he was still less certain of that. But for now, he was willing to believe it might be possible. Thomas stirred and sighed contentedly, as his hand began to explore Andrew‘s body once more, moving slowly downward from his chest. ―You‘re insatiable,‖ Andrew said, laughing, turning his head to kiss Thomas gently on the tip of the nose. ―But I think it must be close to breakfast, and I—we—should get dressed.‖ ―No,‖ Thomas whined piteously as Andrew climbed out of the bed, reaching for his lover like a child being deprived of a new toy. Andrew laughed at him. ―You look adorable,‖ he said, marveling at how he loved being able to say those words at long last, ―but I‘m famished. And it‘s Boxing Day, don‘t forget.‖ ―Oh, bother,‖ Thomas groaned. ―Mother always makes us stand in a line, while the servants parade by. I doubt they like it any more than I do. Except for the money, of course.‖ Andrew padded naked across the cold room, wishing desperately that they‘d thought to put another log or two on the

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 143 fire before falling asleep. He opened the connecting door to his room and froze. The young blond servant—Percy, was it?—was tending to the fire in his room, having let himself in through the hall door. Percy glanced up as the door opened, and his eyes widened in shock as he took in Andrew‘s nakedness. ―I‘m sorry, sir. I came to wake you and His Lordship for breakfast.‖ Andrew was mortified, but there was no hiding his nudity now. After a split second‘s hesitation, he walked into the room and took his trousers from the bed, where he‘d laid out his clothes the night before. ―I apologize for my state of undress, Percy,‖ he said, slipping into the trousers. ―I suddenly remembered something I needed to ask His Lordship, and… well, I‘m afraid we‘re often very casual around each other, knowing each other as well as we do.‖ His explanation sounded suspicious, even to him. But Percy said, ―Yes, sir. It‘s none of my concern, of course. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?‖ Andrew wasn‘t quite certain he liked the way Percy said that, but he couldn‘t pin down what was bothering him about it. ―No, thank you, Percy. That will be all.‖

AFTER breakfast, the Barringtons dressed in formal attire, and Simcox gathered the servants in the entrance hall. As each person paraded by, each of the family members shook hands, and the duke presented them with a beribboned box containing their Christmas gift of coins.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 144 When Thomas took the hand of Percy, he thought he saw something in the young man‘s eyes that disturbed him—a certain insolence, perhaps. But it was barely perceptible, and he couldn‘t be certain he wasn‘t imaging it. He had witnessed Andrew‘s encounter with the lad that morning, and Andrew had come back into his room later, horribly embarrassed by the whole thing. Thomas had laughed about it then, but now he thought Andrew might not be wrong in thinking that this could spell trouble. When the small ceremony was over, and the servants had returned to work, Edward took his younger brother aside and said in a hushed tone, ―Thomas, would you mind escorting Susan out to the garden for a short time this morning?‖ Thomas had been hoping to spend more time with Andrew that morning—in a way which would have been most unsuited to the presence of children—and he was, at first, a bit annoyed by the request. ―Surely your daughter would prefer to spend time with her father, Edward.‖ ―No doubt,‖ Edward replied, ―but at the moment, I need to spend some time alone with Miss Hudson. We would prefer not to have Susan along, and more importantly, we would prefer not to have you along, if you get my meaning.‖ Thomas looked at him, startled. ―Oh. Yes, of course.‖ ―You understand,‖ Edward continued, uncomfortably, ―as long as you and our parents are nearby, Rebecca must pretend to fawn over you. At least, until she makes up her mind about… things.‖ Thomas wasn‘t certain that was the case, but he saw no reason to interfere with Edward winning Rebecca. It would at least free him from his father‘s arrangements, for the time being, and increase the likelihood of Thomas returning to London with his allowance intact.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 145 ―I understand perfectly,‖ he replied. He found Susan playing with her new doll in the sitting room, while Rebecca watched over her and chatted about dolls she used to have as a child. ―My favorite was a lovely little doll from France, very much like yours. Have you given her a name?‖ Susan was putting a tiny blue shawl around the doll‘s shoulders. ―Her name is Emily.‖ ―Emily! That‘s a delightful name.‖ From his position near the doorway, Thomas said, ―Are those new clothes you‘ve got for her?‖ He was noticing several colorful dresses and hats laid out on the floor beside the girl. Susan looked up and grinned. ―Grandmother gave them to me.‖ ―I think,‖ Rebecca told him, ―they used to belong to… well, to a doll very much like Emily. Duchess Barrington had them brought down from the attic.‖ ―How fortunate that she found them.‖ He entered the room and hunched down beside the little girl. ―How would you like to go for a walk in the garden with me and Uncle Andrew?‖ ―Is Aunt Rebecca coming?‖ Thomas gave Rebecca a nearly imperceptible shake of the head, and the young woman took the hint. ―No, thank you,‖ she said, ―I‘m quite comfortable here by the warm fire. You go and have a good time.‖ ―Can I bring Emily?‖ Susan asked. Thomas smiled at her. ―Of course, poppet.‖

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Chapter 24 THEY walked to the duck pond, each of the young men holding one of Susan‘s tiny mittened hands, Emily tucked snuggly in the front of Susan‘s coat, peering out between two buttons. The snow had finally stopped, and the walkway had been shoveled by one of the staff, though footing was still a bit treacherous in places. The little girl hadn‘t thought to demand the presence of Hew and Duncan, for once, and Andrew was grateful for that. Not that he didn‘t enjoy the twins‘ company, but he needed some time to clear his head. Last night had been the culmination of years of fantasy— fantasy which he had never expected to come true. Now he was at a loss. The comfortable relationship that he and Thomas had shared for several years was now shattered. Replaced, he hoped, by something deeper and more meaningful, but also something fraught with peril. Even if Thomas was indeed in love with him, romantic entanglements often ended badly. And few people were capable of remaining on close friendly terms with lovers who turned away from them. If the relationship soured, the friendship he had shared with Thomas would likely be over, as well. Even more perilous was the chance that they might be caught, as they nearly had been this morning. England had very strict laws against this sort of relationship between two men. It was punishable by imprisonment and sometimes even

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 147 death. They would have to keep their love secret for the rest of their lives, and be forever vigilant. One slip could destroy them. Andrew sighed and forced his thoughts back to the present. It would do no good to dwell on that possible outcome. They would simply have to be cautious. Though keeping Thomas from loudly proclaiming his affections from the rooftops—especially when he was in his cups—might prove a daunting task. Though he felt he shouldn‘t find the image amusing, under the circumstances, Andrew nevertheless smiled and gave the lord an affectionate look. Thomas didn‘t notice, being caught up in an animated discussion with his niece about the ducks, geese, and swans in Hyde Park. The wind tousled his chestnut hair, and his cheeks were rose-red from the morning chill. He looked, to Andrew, like a cherub—a grown-up cherub, if there could be such a thing, but one who still retained a childlike air about him. Andrew imagined that Thomas would always look that way, even well into old age. ―There are swans down at the pond,‖ Susan was saying. ―Do you think they‘ll be there today?‖ ―No, poppet,‖ Thomas replied, ―I think they‘ve flown south for the winter.‖ ―Why would they do that?‖ ―Perhaps because they have more sense than we do. It‘s warm in the south, even when it gets very cold here.‖ He scooped her up in his arms, careful not to crush Emily in the process. ―Speaking of which, I think you‘re starting to shiver a bit. Perhaps we should go back inside for a while.‖ Susan did not protest, so they followed the walkway around to the back of the house.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 148 It was there, on one of the ballroom patios, that they came across the fight. There was such a crowd gathered that at first Andrew couldn‘t tell who was scuffling. But when the throng of servants saw them approach, they parted, anxious expressions on their faces. In the middle of them, still oblivious to the lord‘s presence, two boys were thrashing at each other on the ground. Andrew recognized one right away as Hew. The other took a moment, but he soon realized it was Percy, the young upstairs servant. ―What‘s the meaning of this?‖ Thomas said sharply. ―Stop this, at once!‖ When the boys didn‘t appear to hear him, Andrew grabbed Hew by his thick wool collar and yanked him off Percy. The other boy had apparently been getting the worst of it. He lay on the ground, his arms still raised to defend his face, his nose bleeding. ―Hew!‖ Andrew said, shaking the young man. ―What do you think you‘re doing?‖ Hew stopped struggling when he realized who had him by the collar. He was panting, but looked fine otherwise. Duncan had somehow appeared from the crowd, and both young men were trying to talk at once. Andrew raised a hand and said, ―One at a time, please. Hew, since you‘re the one involved in this, why don‘t you tell me what happened.‖ ―I‘m sorry, sir. That bastard was—‖ The boy stopped speaking, apparently unwilling to go on. Percy, once he recognized Andrew and Thomas, had gone ashen. Something, Andrew knew, was frightening the boy, beyond getting a pummeling from Hew. ―He was what?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 149 Hew shot a look at Susan, who appeared curious, but fortunately hadn‘t found the scuffle to be frightening. ―This lout was being disrespectful of you and His Lordship, sir. But please don‘t ask me to repeat what he was saying in polite company.‖ Andrew was able to guess pretty quickly what this was about, and a chill went up his spine. But he had to know exactly what rumors—or truths—the servant boy was spreading around. Since Percy looked terrified, at the moment, he doubted he‘d get much out of him but evasions. ―You, get up,‖ he ordered the young man, ―but stay here.‖ While Thomas ordered one of the other servants to bring a damp cloth for Percy‘s nose, Andrew pulled Hew off to the side. The rest of the servants had begun to disperse, not wanting to incur Thomas‘s wrath, so the two were able to find a corner where they could talk without being overheard. ―Now,‖ Andrew said, in a low voice, ―tell me exactly what this is about.‖ Hew glanced quickly at Susan again, to make sure she wouldn‘t overhear, then said, uncomfortably, ―Well, sir, he was saying… he was saying that you and His Lordship were….‖ The young man had turned red with embarrassment. ―Just spit it out, Hew. I know the words aren‘t coming from you directly.‖ Hew took a deep breath. ―He said that the two of you was sleeping in the same bed, together—naked. And, well… you can probably guess the rest, sir.‖ ―I can,‖ Andrew replied, his face grim. ―Very well, Hew. I thank you for defending our honor.‖ ―Well, of course, sir!‖ ―Please wait here a moment.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 150 Andrew went back to where Thomas was standing and said in a low voice, ―I think we should send Susan inside.‖ ―Is it really as bad as all that?‖ Thomas asked, raising his eyebrows. ―Boys fight all the time.‖ ―They‘re fighting about us, Thomas.‖ Thomas‘s eyes went wide as he realized what he meant. ―Percy has been spreading rumors about this morning?‖ ―I think it‘s debatable whether or not they could be classed as ‗rumors‘, but yes.‖ ―I shall have him dismissed, at once.‖ Andrew frowned at him. ―Don‘t be a fool, Thomas. Dismissing him will guarantee that he spreads those rumors all over the village. We need to persuade him not to talk about us.‖ ―How?‖ ―I‘m not quite certain.‖ He glanced over at the young servant and caught the hostile expression on his face just before Percy quickly looked away. This was going to present a challenge. When, a few moments later, a scullery maid brought out a warm, damp cloth for Percy‘s nose, Thomas asked her to please take Susan up to the nursery for them. He and Andrew had already decided that Thomas would have a talk with the twins, though what he planned to tell them, Andrew could not fathom. However, it fell to him to talk to Percy. It wasn‘t a job he relished, but he had asked Thomas to let him do it, fearing the lord‘s volatile nature. Andrew approached the boy, who gave him a cautious look, still fearful, but also hinting at a dislike the boy wasn‘t skillful enough to conceal. This was going to be very difficult.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 151 ―Percy,‖ he began, giving the young man what he hoped was a reassuring smile, ―I believe you and I should have a talk.‖ ―Sir?‖ ―Oh, come now. You‘re smart enough to know what Hew told me. And you‘re smart enough to know that this is a very serious matter.‖ The question, Andrew thought, was whether the boy was smart enough to understand what Andrew was about to say to him. He didn‘t want any of the other staff members to overhear, so he gestured toward the garden. ―Is your nose still bleeding?‖ ―No, sir. Though I‘ll probably look a mess by tonight,‖ the boy replied, giving Hew a quick, angry look. ―You probably will,‖ Andrew said, smiling. ―But you‘ll recover soon enough. Shall we?‖

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Chapter 25 THOMAS had taken the twins off in another direction but still kept them outside. They followed the garden path around to the west wing of the house, which was closed up for the winter months. ―Are you angry with me, Your Lordship?‖ Hew asked eventually, when Thomas hadn‘t yet spoken. Thomas laughed and shook his head. ―No, Hew. Of course not. Andrew and I are very grateful.‖ ―No need for that, Your Lordship,‖ Duncan insisted. ―Hew and I know who our friends are, if you‘ll pardon me being so familiar.‖ ―Certainly.‖ ―And we don‘t let nobody talk like that about our friends.‖ Thomas gave him a faint, sad smile, then sighed. ―It‘s because of your loyalty that Andrew has asked me to talk to you.‖ They were both watching him intently now, making him feel incredibly self-conscious—and guilty. The twins were as loyal to him and Andrew—and as innocent—as hunting dogs, trusting absolutely that their loyalty was not misplaced. But it was misplaced. Percy had merely been telling the truth. Had it been merely his own safety at stake, Thomas might have confessed all. It seemed indecent to him that he should take advantage of their good-hearted nature, hiding behind their misguided protection. But if he told the boys the truth,

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 153 and they reacted badly, they might go to the authorities. In that case, Andrew would be in even more jeopardy than Thomas, not having a title to protect him. He would have to avoid the truth, if possible. But his sense of honor made it impossible for him to lie to them completely. ―We do really appreciate you defending our honor like this,‖ he began, at last, ―but you see… well, Percy did in fact see something odd this morning, which he no doubt misinterpreted, and which I feel I should explain to you.‖ The twins looked at him expectantly, waiting without comment. Taking another breath to steady himself, he pressed on. ―Andrew did indeed come out of my room naked this morning.‖ Rather than reacting with shock or horror, Hew laughed. ―Naked?‖ ―Yes,‖ Thomas replied, uncomfortably, ―you see, he was dressing, and he had to ask me something. We‘re very good friends, and we aren‘t terribly shy around one another. It‘s very improper, of course, and I can quite understand how Percy might have thought something… untoward was going on.‖ ―Well, Your Lordship,‖ Duncan said firmly, ―that ain‘t none of his business, now, is it?‖ ―And it ain‘t none of ours, neither,‖ Hew added. ―Anything Your Lordship and Mr. Nash do together is between the two of you, and nobody else. We‘re honored you explained it to us, sir, but you sure don‘t have to.‖ ―No, Your Lordship,‖ Duncan said, ―never.‖ Thomas smiled at the two of them. ―Well, that‘s good to hear.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 154 AS ANDREW walked through the garden, Percy walking alongside, he weighed several options in his head—none of them particularly good. He could offer the boy money. But that rarely worked well. Either Percy would spend the money then tell everyone anyway, or more likely, he would keep coming back for more. Andrew could try to win the boy‘s trust then persuade him to keep Andrew‘s relationship with Thomas a secret. This idea, he discarded immediately. He hadn‘t the time to win Percy over and confessing to him at this point would no doubt seal his and Thomas‘s fate. That left intimidation. He disliked the idea of threatening the boy but he needn‘t threaten actual physical harm. And it was really the only way. ―Percy,‖ he began, speaking conversationally, ―let‘s talk for a moment about what you saw this morning.‖ ―Yes, sir.‖ ―You saw me emerge from Lord Barrington‘s room. And I wasn‘t wearing any clothes.‖ ―Yes, sir.‖ The young man‘s tone was bordering on insolent, but Andrew was attempting to avoid an out-and-out confrontation, so he let it slip past. ―I provided you with an explanation, which I daresay you did not believe.‖ When Percy remained silent, Andrew added, ―Come, Percy. We both know what you were thinking. You have my permission to speak honestly.‖ Percy looked at him suspiciously. ―Do I, sir? Do you really want me to say exactly what I was thinking? I don‘t think you‘ll like it… sir.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 155 ―No, I probably won‘t,‖ Andrew replied, continuing to smile at him, ―but I give you my word as a gentleman that no harm will come to you if you tell me the honest truth. I‘m fairly certain I know what you‘re going to say already. But I want it out in the open.‖ Percy took a breath. His face looked grim, but both hands were shaking. ―I thought you and His Lordship had shared a bed last night—the way a man shares his bed with a woman, if you get my meaning, sir.‖ ―I do, of course.‖ ―And I thought it was disgusting and unnatural.‖ Andrew nodded. ―There, now. All out in the open, where we can talk about it like civilized men. Now, of course, I‘m still going to maintain that what you saw was me being far too casual—inappropriately so, perhaps—in the presence of a very good friend. Nothing more. And you, I suspect, will continue to believe that Lord Barrington and I have had improper relations with one another.‖ Percy couldn‘t look at him anymore. Having it all put so baldly was clearly disturbing him. ―I won‘t change my position, and you won‘t change your position,‖ Andrew continued, ―so there seems little point in us arguing about it.‖ He steered them to the small duck pond, where they stopped, looking at the powdery snowflakes being blown across its icy surface. ―How long have you worked at Barrington Hall, Percy?‖ ―A little over a year, sir,‖ the young man replied. ―Are you going to dismiss me, sir?‖ His expression looked sullen, but he had managed to keep his voice polite.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 156 ―No, Percy. I don‘t have that authority. Lord Barrington does, of course, though I don‘t think he will dismiss you, either. But I would like you to consider this. You have no real proof that what you saw was anything more than what I said it was. Just your word against mine—and the word of a lord, I might add. Also, Lord Barrington and I will be returning to London in a day or two, so even if we are as degenerate as you believe us to be, neither you nor anyone else in this house will have to look at us for very much longer. You have an excellent job here, and you may yet keep your position for a very long time— possibly even the rest of your life, if that‘s what you desire. Or you may transfer to another noble household—as long as your references from Barrington Hall are good.‖ ―Are you telling me I should keep quiet about it, sir?‖ Percy asked, clearly finding the idea repugnant. Andrew nodded. ―If you are wise. It will accomplish little for you to continue spreading these rumors. Some people might believe you, of course. But Lord Barrington would hardly be the first lord whose tenants considered him to be of dubious character. And with no proof, many will consider what you say to be slander. You may lose your position and find yourself unable to secure another one that pays as well. You could even expose yourself to possible legal entanglements. And all for nothing, really.‖ He didn‘t actually believe it would be for nothing. To Andrew, moral principles were important, and adhering to them did mean something. But to keep Thomas safe, he was willing to play the role of bully, even though it repelled him. Percy was clearly frustrated, but he said nothing, so Andrew continued, ―These are not meant to be threats, Percy— though I admit that they are somewhat threatening. For that, I apologize. But more importantly, they are practical

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 157 considerations. If I were you, I would think very carefully about which course of action benefits me—Percy, that is—the most.‖ He began to walk back to the house, and Percy fell into step beside him. The lad was silent for a long time, until at last he said quietly, ―I won‘t say any more about it, sir.‖ ―A wise decision, Percy.‖ But deep inside, Andrew felt sick to his stomach.

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Chapter 26 ANDREW was no longer in the garden when Thomas went to search for him. He eventually found him upstairs in his room, packing his toilet articles into his valise. The blond looked up, startled, as Thomas opened his door without knocking. But he seemed to relax when he saw who it was. Thomas noticed a distinct tightening of Andrew‘s shoulders, however, when he grabbed them from behind and kissed the blond on the back of the neck. ―Are you leaving?‖ Thomas asked, beginning to grow concerned. Had Andrew‘s talk with Percy gone so badly, then? But the blond shook his head. ―No, I‘m not leaving—yet. But I think it would be very wise for us both to leave as soon as the roads are clear.‖ ―Did Percy threaten you?‖ Andrew laughed, but there was little humor in his voice. ―Of course not. He has nothing to threaten me with. You and I are far bigger and more frightening than a sixteen-year-old from a small country village.‖ It puzzled Thomas that Andrew was saying this sarcastically, as if he were contemptuous of it. ―Percy agreed that it would be in his best interest to keep this morning‘s… incident… to himself from now on. But of course, it will have spread throughout the household by now. The sooner we return to London, the better, I think.‖ ―Why should I run off with my tail between my legs? This is my home, Andrew,‖ Thomas said, irritated, though he wasn‘t

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 159 certain himself how passionately he was committed to that statement. He released Andrew‘s shoulders, as his friend obviously was not in an affectionate frame of mind, and walked toward the fireplace. ―Do you intend to move back here, then?‖ Andrew asked. ―Well, no,‖ Thomas said, taking a seat near the fire, ―I‘m quite happy in London. I am glad you talked me into returning for the holiday. I suspect Edward and I will be on better terms for it. But I still don‘t get on well with Father. I probably never will.‖ ―I have to confess, I‘m missing the somewhat simpler life we had in London.‖ This touched a nerve. ―Before I realized how much I love you, you mean?‖ Andrew stopped what he was doing and turned to smile at him. ―I don‘t mean that. I‘m looking forward to continuing our… relationship. Just not here. I think the longer we stay here, the more it will gall Percy.‖ ―Percy be damned. I should have let Hew pummel him.‖ ―He was pummeled quite enough, I think,‖ Andrew said, shooting him a disapproving look. ―He‘s just a boy, and he doesn‘t understand men like us. I daresay he isn‘t alone in that. No doubt the other servants would share his feelings, if they saw what he saw. The longer we remain here, the more likely we are to slip up and provide someone with real evidence.‖ Thomas turned away to stare contemplatively at the burning fireplace. ―I suppose you may be right.‖ He was still annoyed at the brat, though. If Percy expected to remain at Barrington Hall—or indeed, at any noble house—he would have to learn some discretion.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 160 ―People are always opening doors on you here,‖ Andrew said, returning to his packing. ―I much prefer the club, where you can count on just one maid coming in to clean, at a specific time of day—and not, I might add, first thing in the morning.‖ Thomas laughed and loosened his cravat as the warmth of the fire seeped into him. ―So I suppose that means you aren‘t in the mood for a quick tumble, then?‖ The mere fact that he and Andrew were alone together was beginning to affect him, making it difficult to think of anything but how smooth his friend‘s skin would be to the touch, and how warm. But Andrew appeared to be unenthusiastic about the idea. ―You‘re a pig,‖ the blond replied, laughing as well, but making no attempt to move closer. ―And you‘ll have to wait until everyone has gone to sleep tonight. Percy may be lurking about, during the day.‖ ―I could have him reassigned downstairs.‖ ―Don‘t. We don‘t need to make him any more suspicious than he already is. And demoting him will just add to his dislike of us and make him more of a problem in the future.‖ Thomas groaned. ―Really, Andrew, this is pathetic. I‘m hiding from one of my own servants. And a boy, at that.‖ ―If you intend to be with me,‖ Andrew replied, finally coming over to stand behind Thomas‘s chair and run a hand gently through his thick hair, ―then I‘m afraid this is the way we must carry on our relationship.‖ Thomas grabbed his friend‘s hand and pulled it to his lips to kiss it, longing to kiss other parts of him, and put the man‘s hand in more interesting places. ―Of course I intend to be with you. Stop assuming I‘ll abandon you at the first sign of inconvenience. I just wish it could be easier.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 161 ―As do I,‖ Andrew said, giving his hand a squeeze.

PERCY must want to avoid me as much as I want to avoid him, Andrew mused as he finished dressing for dinner. There had been no sight of the boy since their talk that afternoon. And for that, Andrew had been glad. Thomas had told him of his conversation with Hew and Duncan. Thank goodness the two of them had reacted sensibly. Even though he‘d only known them a few days, Andrew would have been terribly hurt had they defected. He wasn‘t certain that they really understood the situation, but their determined loyalty touched him. The world needed more men such as they. The connecting door to Thomas‘s room opened softly, and Andrew jumped. But of course it was Thomas, looking stunning in a gold brocade dinner jacket. Andrew smiled at him and permitted himself a moment of affection, taking the man into his arms and kissing him briefly. If only, he reflected, such acts as a simple kiss didn‘t have to feel so perilous. They walked down to dinner together, but were surprised to discover that the dinning room was empty. ―Are we early?‖ Andrew asked. ―Never!‖ Thomas said with a smile. ―I wouldn‘t hear of it.‖ Obviously having overheard them, Duchess Barrington appeared at the doorway to the sitting room and beckoned to them. As they approached, she said to them in a low voice, ―Dinner will be delayed a bit this evening. Edward and your father are having a discussion with Lord Hudson.‖ ―A discussion?‖ Thomas asked, as they entered the sitting room. ―Concerning what?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 162 Lady Hudson was there, sitting on the settee beside Rebecca, who was looking rather pale. Miss Hudson did no more than glance up when the men entered the room. Duchess Barrington returned to her chair near the fire, looking rather agitated herself. ―That, I can‘t say, although….‖ She gave Rebecca a suspicious glance. ―I have my suspicions.‖ ―As do I,‖ Lady Hudson added, looking at Rebecca sternly. ―But my daughter seems disinclined to confirm or deny them.‖ Miss Hudson blushed and refused to meet either woman‘s gaze. ―I‘m sure I don‘t have the faintest idea, Mother.‖ So, that’s it, Andrew thought. Edward has finally shown a bit of backbone. Thomas opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word, the door to the study could be heard opening, followed by the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor of the entrance hall. Duchess Barrington jumped up and rushed to the door, followed by Lady Hudson, forcing Andrew and Thomas to step back into the hall in order to prevent a collision. Edward was approaching, looking quite pleased with himself. Behind him, Lord Hudson seemed quite happy as well, but the look on Duke Barrington‘s face was dark and ominous. He saw Thomas and positively glared at his youngest son. ―I have wonderful news,‖ Edward told all those gathered. ―Miss Hudson and I are to be married!‖ Duchess Barrington and Rebecca‘s mother gasped in delight, though Andrew was quite certain neither was surprised. Rebecca herself had emerged from the sitting room, and gazed in adoration at Edward. Andrew conceded that it was a touching scene. After their love had been cast aside six years ago by the duke‘s machinations and Edward‘s foolishness, Rebecca would finally have the husband she had

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 163 always longed for, and Edward had been given a chance to redeem himself. Romantic, Andrew supposed, though he privately hoped Rebecca would give Edward a swift kick in the shin the next time she found herself possessed of riding boots. Simcox approached from the dining room and asked Duchess Barrington, ―Shall we serve dinner now, Your Grace?‖ ―Yes, Simcox,‖ the duchess replied with a gracious smile. But Andrew had noticed that the duke did not appear to be sharing in everyone else‘s joy at the engagement. As Simcox turned back to the dining room, Barrington swiftly marched up to Thomas and grabbed him by the elbow. ―You,‖ he said, his voice low and menacing, ―are coming with me for a little chat.‖ There was hardly time for Thomas to protest as he was dragged off toward the library. Duchess Barrington opened her mouth to protest, but the duke called back over his shoulder, ―You may start dinner without us!‖

―SURELY this can wait until after dinner, Father!‖ Thomas protested, as he was practically thrown into the library, the duke releasing him at last to close the large wooden doors behind them. The man then turned the key in the lock, which Thomas found unsettling. ―No,‖ the duke snarled, ―it cannot wait.‖ He strode over to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of the whiskey he and Edward were so fond of. Thomas could barely stomach the stuff, so he wasn‘t disappointed when his father chose not to offer him any of it.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 164 ―I suppose you think you‘ve been very clever!‖ the duke said, uncorking the bottle and taking a swig from it. Thomas knew perfectly well what his father meant, but he would be damned if he‘d cooperate with this little bit of theater. ―I haven‘t the faintest idea—‖ ―I suppose I should have seen this coming,‖ his father went on, ignoring him. ―But Lord Hudson assured me that the young chit was interested in you. I thought she and Edward had gotten over their childish infatuation by now.‖ ―They‘re in love with each other, Father,‖ Thomas said. The duke snorted derisively. ―Love!‖ He managed to put more contempt into that word than Thomas had thought possible. ―If Edward had loved her, he would have fought for her.‖ Thomas had a sudden realization. Was it possible that the duke would have allowed Edward to marry Rebecca all those years ago, if only Edward had shown a little backbone at the time? ―If he had,‖ Thomas pointed out, ―he—Barrington itself— would not have acquired Anne‘s landholdings.‖ The duke went over to the fireplace, resting an elbow on the mantel and staring into the flames. He took another drink before responding. ―Love always fails, in the face of financial gain.‖ Another drink. ―Or political gain. Or adversity. Or social status. Or another pretty young face….‖ ―If,‖ Thomas said, growing irritated with this meandering conversation, ―you brought me in here to confess that you don‘t love Mother, I daresay this comes as a surprise to no one.‖ The duke shot him a sharp look. ―Your mother is a fine woman,‖ he snapped. ―I respect her immensely, and I have provided her with everything she could ever wish. And I have never done anything to dishonor her!‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 165 ―Yet you cannot be bothered to talk to her. You spend all of your time with your dogs.‖ The duke took a step toward him, his face turning red with fury, and for a moment Thomas thought the man might attempt to strike him. ―My life is none of your concern! And you are the last person to claim moral superiority over anyone!‖ This caught Thomas unawares. What was his father accusing him of? Did he know about Thomas‘s relationship with Andrew? ―Oh yes,‖ Barrington said, reading his expression. ―I‘ve heard the servants‘ gossip. Less than a week under my roof, and you‘ve already caused a minor scandal. Not that I was surprised. I‘ve always known what you were.‖ ―What I…?‖ Thomas said, unable to think very clearly. ―I had hoped we could marry you off before you stumbled into a situation where you could be blackmailed or sent to prison,‖ the duke muttered, taking another drink. ―But you ran off. And now you‘ve brought one of… your sort… back home with you!‖ This was all too much. Had his father known Thomas was the sort of man who liked other men? Even before Thomas had known himself? Even before Andrew had known? Thomas found that he needed to sit down. Feeling nauseous, he gingerly felt for the back of the settee and eased himself down onto the cushions. ―I should have thrown your Mr. Nash out into the snow the first day he arrived,‖ Barrington went on, ignoring the fact that there had been no snow on that day. ―But your mother thought he was handsome and charming, and I couldn‘t tell her why I wanted him gone without raising her suspicions.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 166 ―How did you know?‖ Thomas asked quietly, finding himself unable to deny the accusation his father had leveled against him. ―I‘ve always known,‖ his father replied, ―ever since you were a boy. Edward‘s inclinations towards women were obvious, but you....‖ ―I‘ve had… relations with several young women,‖ Thomas said defensively. His father snorted. ―It doesn‘t appear to have done you any good.‖ There was a long silence between them, as the duke took another drink from the bottle. It had been only half full when they entered the room, but he emptied it now. Thomas could tell that he was getting intoxicated by the way he gripped the mantel with his free hand to keep from swaying. ―I want Mr. Nash gone,‖ the man said, at last, his voice low and menacing, ―tomorrow morning.‖ This roused Thomas from his shocked state of mind. He stood up again, and faced his father full on. ―Andrew is my guest.‖ ―He‘s not my guest,‖ the duke snapped, ―and he is no longer welcome in my house!‖ ―Then I shall leave with him.‖ Furious, the duke smashed the empty whisky bottle in the fireplace, making the flames spit. He advanced on his son, jabbing a finger at him. ―I‘m warning you, Thomas. If you return to London with that boy, it will be the last you ever see of Barrington Hall.‖ ―So be it, then.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 167 ―I‘ll cut you off. Don‘t think I won‘t! No more lounging about in your fancy University Club all day. You won‘t have a penny to your name!‖ Thomas was really beginning to find that threat tedious. Despite Barrington‘s domineering personality, Thomas was a bit taller than his father. He glared down his nose at the man. ―If that‘s the way you want it, Father, then so be it. I love Andrew, and I‘ll not abandon him to satisfy you. Edward was foolish enough to do that once, and it cost him his happiness. I‘d rather die a beggar than ever give Andrew up.‖ With that, he turned and strode away. Unfortunately, he was cheated of a dramatic exit by the locked door. He was forced to fiddle with the key for a moment to get out, while his father shouted after him, ―You‘ll die in prison, is what you‘ll do! You disgusting pervert!‖ At last, the door swung outward and released Thomas. ―I want you out of this house by noon tomorrow!‖ Thomas slammed the door shut behind him.

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Chapter 27 ANDREW heard the library door slam shut, but whoever had just come out did not join the others in the dining room. He heard angry footsteps climbing the main stairs and guessed that it must be Thomas. Then silence. If the duke had left the library, he‘d done so quietly, though Andrew suspected the old goat was still in there. It disturbed him to think that Thomas was so upset he wouldn‘t come to dinner. But when he glanced up, he caught Duchess Barrington‘s eye for just a moment. The woman gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head before returning to the lively conversation Edward and the Hudsons were having about the upcoming wedding. Clearly, she thought it wise to give Thomas time to himself after whatever altercation he‘d just had with his father. Andrew heeded her wishes, finishing his dinner and remaining long enough to be polite. But he excused himself when his hostess and the other guests retired to the drawing room for sherry. He found Thomas in his room, sitting sullenly before the fire. He‘d been nursing a brandy, and it was immediately apparent that it had begun to go to his head. The slightly inebriated smile Thomas gave Andrew when he walked in was all too familiar.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 169 ―We‘ve been asked to leave,‖ Thomas said, gesticulating with his brandy snifter. ―Tomorrow morning. And I‘ve been cut off without a ha‘penny.‖ Andrew had been afraid it was something like that. He sighed and went to stand behind Thomas‘s chair, bending down to wrap his arms around the man‘s shoulders. ―I‘m so sorry, Thomas.‖ ―I imagine I‘ll survive.‖ Thomas took advantage of the position they were in to give the blond a quick kiss on the cheek. ―He knows about us, you realize.‖ Andrew froze. ―I thought this had to do with you defying him, in regards to Rebecca.‖ ―It has to do with me choosing you over Rebecca.‖ ―I see.‖ Andrew felt a bit nauseous. He straightened, then went to sit in the other chair, declining the decanter of sherry Thomas held out to him. ―Do you really think it was wise to admit to our… indiscretions?‖ ―Love, Andrew,‖ Thomas said firmly, as he poured himself another glass. ―This isn‘t about ‗indiscretions‘.‖ He said the word with contempt. ―It‘s about love.‖ Andrew smiled faintly. ―Yes. It is. But it‘s cost you dearly. Perhaps you should have kept silent about it.‖ ―Rubbish! But there was no denying it, even had I wished to. Apparently, my father had me figured out long before I did.‖ ―What will you do now?‖ Thomas peered at him through the glass of the snifter as he swirled the brandy gently. ―I shall go back to London. Then I imagine I‘ll have to find employment and somewhat cheaper accommodations. The University Club is a bit expensive.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 170 ―Oh, stop talking nonsense!‖ Andrew snapped. ―You know I won‘t allow you to be thrown out of the Club lodgings.‖ ―I‘ve no desire to live off your charity, my love.‖ ―And I have no desire to leave the club, or to live apart from you. I won‘t hear any more of it.‖ Andrew‘s voice had risen in tone of its own accord, and he feared that the conversation might devolve into an argument. But Thomas merely smiled at him and took a sip of his brandy. Then he set the snifter gently down on the small table between them and said, ―We shall figure out the future when it happens. For the present, I love you and wish nothing more than to get you out those clothes.‖

THEY made love, and for a brief time, the sheer joy of exploring Andrew‘s exquisite body and tasting his satiny, golden skin made Thomas forget about any trouble the future might hold. There was only now; only Andrew. And it was wonderful and magical. Andrew appeared to be more comfortable revealing his experience with other men, showing him new ways for them to bring pleasure to each other. To Thomas, it now seemed impossible that anyone else‘s caress could ever have satisfied him. He‘d known nothing! All of his years of fumbling in the dark with women were wiped away with a single kiss from his golden angel. Afterward, they lay wrapped in each other‘s embrace, spent and happy, at least for the present. Then they drifted off to sleep. Thomas woke to the sound of something hard striking the door to the hallway, three times. He‘d forgotten to snuff the candles before he and Andrew fell asleep, and they were still

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 171 burning. It could hardly have been an hour. Andrew was still in his arms, looking a bit ashen as he stared at the door. The pounding came again, and Thomas realized it was the sound of something metal—such as the head of a cane— striking the wood of the door. ―Blast!‖ he said under his breath, ―it‘s Father!‖ Andrew made as if to get out of the bed, but before either of them could move, the door burst open and the duke strode in. ―Storm out on me, will you? In my own house, no less! Well, this conversation isn‘t over, my boy—not by a long shot!‖ Thomas could hardly believe his father would be this obnoxious. But it was clear that the man was extremely drunk. ―Father,‖ he said through gritted teeth, ―I think you‘ve had too much to drink. Perhaps you should go and sleep it off.‖ ―Nonsense!‖ the duke snorted, as he placed himself in one of the chairs by the fire. ―I feel fine. I‘m wide awake.‖ He pointed at his son with the tip of his cane. ―Get into your dressing gown and come pour me a whiskey.‖ ―I don‘t have any whiskey.‖ ―Barbaric! But I‘ll have whatever swill you‘ve got.‖ Thomas angrily grabbed his dressing gown and climbed out of the bed. There would be no getting rid of the old bastard, he knew, until the duke got what he wanted. But when Andrew attempted to get up, Barrington jabbed the cane in his direction. ―You stay where you are. I can already see that you‘re a fine example of manhood—I don‘t need further proof.‖ ―Really, Father,‖ Thomas said curtly, as Andrew blushed crimson, ―I don‘t see any reason you need to subject Andrew to this. If you insist on playing this drama out with me, then so be it. But allow him to go back to his room.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 172 ―He‘ll stay where he is,‖ the duke snarled, snatching the brandy off the table himself and uncorking it. ―I wish him to hear this.‖ The man poured himself a glass of the sweet liquor and sniffed it, making a face. ―How can you drink this?‖ ―Be thankful it‘s not sherry,‖ Thomas retorted. He chose to sit on the bed beside Andrew, rather than join his father at the fire. His intention was to reassure Andrew in the face of his formidable father, and he half expected the duke to snarl at him about it. But the man appeared to have other things on his mind. ―I suppose so. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Since you‘re both already tucked in bed—‖ ―So to speak.‖ ―—perhaps I should tell you a little bedtime story.‖ The duke emptied his glass and set it on the table beside him. ―Once upon a time, when I was seventeen, we had a young man in charge of the kennels. He was a handsome lad, the same age as myself, more or less. A charming Irish boy by the name of Colin. ―And I loved him dearly.‖ Thomas couldn‘t have been more startled had his father announced he was running off to become a tinker. Surely, he didn‘t mean ―love‖ in the way Thomas loved Andrew. Did he simply mean he loved this boy as a dear friend? But the duke looked him directly in the eye and nodded. ―Yes. Though you‘d never know it now, I did once love someone with all of my heart. I would have done anything for Colin. And he said he would do anything for me. I was never happier than during that one beautiful year of my life. But my father intervened.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 173 ―He had no idea just how close Colin and I had become. But he knew our relationship was… unusual. He ordered Colin dismissed. My love kissed me good night on a warm August night, and I woke to find him gone.‖ ―Did you go after him?‖ Thomas asked, knowing that he himself would have done so. A sad look came into the man‘s eyes, and suddenly Thomas could see just how old his father truly was. ―I tried. I ran away, tried to track him down. But he‘d vanished. Nobody knew where he‘d run off to. Eventually, I got cold and hungry enough to come back home. ―I learned—years later—that Father had paid Colin‘s way back to his relatives‘ home in Ireland. He‘d threatened to turn him over to the authorities if he didn‘t agree to leave England and never return.‖ ―That‘s dreadful.‖ The duke seemed lost in his sad thoughts for a long moment, but then he nodded. ―I suppose,‖ he said quietly, ―that that was when I lost my faith in love. And the foolish promises people make when they think they‘re in love.‖ Andrew bristled at that. ―He was only a boy! A boy with no social standing, being threatened by a lord. How could you have expected him to defy a duke?‖ For a moment, anger flashed across Barrington‘s face at Andrew‘s insolence, but just as quickly, the fight left him. ―I suppose you‘re right. But I was a boy also. And I was devastated.‖ He sighed. ―I, of course, went on to marry and father two sons. But I never stopped loving Colin. A few years ago, I attempted to find him. I told myself it was simple curiosity. Most likely he had married and fathered a brood of children. No doubt he‘d gone to pot in his middle age. But, no—it was far

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 174 worse than that. I discovered he‘d been killed several years before.‖ The duke‘s eyes seemed misty and distant now. ―The fool was thrown off a horse. He‘d never married.‖ Almost of its own volition, Thomas‘s hand had found Andrew‘s while his father spoke, and now he squeezed the blond‘s fingers. It was as much to reassure himself as Andrew. For perhaps the first time in his life, his heart went out to the man he‘d always found so fearsome. ―After that,‖ the duke continued, rousing himself, ―I took to spending my free time in the kennels. We‘d been happy there, long ago, laughing and playing with the hounds. Being there now still makes me feel close to him, in a small way.‖ ―I‘m sorry, Father. I truly am.‖ This seemed to wake the duke from his reverie. The man glanced up at his son, then looked away quickly. If it hadn‘t been inconceivable to Thomas, he would have sworn his father was embarrassed. The duke heaved himself up from the chair, as if he were so weary that the mere act of standing took gargantuan effort. He stood, leaning a bit unsteadily on his cane and gazing into the fire for a long moment. ―I‘ve been trying to protect you, Thomas. From the law, from scandal. And, I suppose, from heartbreak. But your behavior over the past few days, as well as that of Mr. Nash, has given me hope that—perhaps—your love might be capable of surviving. I can no longer withhold my support. I no longer wish to.‖ He turned and took in both men with his gaze, penetrating and sharp even through the drunken haze. ―I‘ve decided not to withhold your allowance, either, Thomas. I give my blessing to both of you and hope you find the happiness denied to me.‖ He

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 175 looked pointedly at Andrew. ―I simply hope that you, Mr. Nash, have better luck teaching my son discretion than I‘ve had.‖ Neither of the two young men could think of a response as the duke walked to the door to let himself out. The man paused at the threshold, turning back to his son, but unable to look directly at him this time. ―Thomas… I know you‘ve always felt that I don‘t love you. We‘ve always fought. You‘re as headstrong as I, and you refuse to be intimidated. But do you really think I would prefer a son who always obeys me? A simpering coward with no passion? ―You have always been my favorite.‖

ANDREW watched as Thomas slowly stood and walked to the fireplace, his handsome profile lit gold by the flickering flames. The blond knew it would be a mistake to interrupt his thoughts. Thomas had just had his world upturned. Perhaps for the best, but whatever the outcome, his father had just revealed himself to be a very different person than Thomas had always believed him to be, and the nature of the relationship between father and son had just changed dramatically. Thomas stared into the fire for a long time before finally giving a short laugh and saying, ―What an old fool!‖ But the glistening in his eyes gave the lie to his words. ―Perhaps,‖ Andrew responded tentatively, ―but we appear to have underestimated him.‖ ―Hmm.‖ ―And I warn you, I fully intend to take his admonition to watch over you to heart.‖ Thomas glanced over at him, quirking up one corner of his mouth. ―I‘m not sure I heard him say that.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 176 ―He did. I‘m quite positive.‖ Thomas smiled at him fondly, and then turned toward the small table where the duke‘s empty brandy snifter sat next to his own. ―Perhaps you should start by limiting how much brandy I drink.‖ Andrew laughed. ―Oh, don‘t tempt me.‖ ―Well, perhaps I‘ll do it myself, then,‖ Thomas replied thoughtfully, picking up one of the empty glasses. ―I‘ve been noticing a tendency in my family to… overindulge.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 177

Chapter 28 THE next morning dawned bright and clear. The view from Thomas‘s window was spectacularly beautiful, with clean white snow blanketing the fields, untouched apart from the meandering tracks of birds and rabbits and the occasional fox. This was the first morning Thomas had spent at Barrington in over six years that felt peaceful. He looked back over his shoulder to where Andrew lay in the bed, still mostly buried under the quilts, breathing softly, looking like a beautiful, slumbering angel. To think, how blind I’ve been over the past three years! he thought. And how much pain my blindness must have caused you. How can I ever make it up to you, my love? Somehow, he would. Or spend the rest of his life trying. He rinsed his face as quietly as he could in the washbasin, and then dressed. It was tempting to leave Andrew sleeping peacefully, but he couldn‘t resist a gentle kiss on that soft golden cheek. ―Good morning,‖ Andrew said, offering him a sleepy smile. ―You needn‘t get up. I‘m just slipping downstairs for tea.‖ Andrew sighed and sat up. ―No. I‘d better slip back into my own bed before Percy or someone else finds me in here.‖ The mention of Percy dampened Thomas‘s happy mood a bit, but he dismissed his annoyance at the boy. Percy was a boy, after all. And he had merely been standing up for what he believed was right.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 178 ―Very well,‖ Thomas replied. ―Go back to your room, climb under the blankets and sleep ‘til noon.‖ Andrew laughed. ―Well, not that long. But a bit longer, I think.‖ He gave the lord a kiss, and then Thomas had the pleasure of watching him scamper naked across the room to slip through the connecting door. Duchess Barrington was already having breakfast downstairs when her son entered the dining room. She gave him a startled look. ―Thomas! You‘re up quite early this morning.‖ ―Yes, I suppose I am.‖ As he took his seat, his mother poured him a cup of tea and placed an unwanted scone upon his plate. ―I do hope you and your father didn‘t quarrel last night,‖ she said, utterly failing to hide her curiosity. Thomas smiled at her. ―Of course we quarreled, Mother. It‘s what we do.‖ ―Oh dear.‖ ―Not to worry,‖ he added, ―I believe we‘ve come to an understanding.‖ Duchess Barrington picked up her teacup, looking decidedly put out by his flippant attitude. ―I certainly hope so. Susan has become quite fond of you and Mr. Nash both. It would be quite tragic if neither of you were ever to visit her again.‖ Thomas had forgotten about Susan, and he felt duly reprimanded for it. ―You are quite right, Mother. But as I said, I believe Father and I have resolved our differences. At least to the point at which Andrew and I may visit in the future.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 179 His mother smiled at that and put a hand upon his. ―I‘m glad to hear it, Thomas.‖

ANDREW woke to a gentle knock on his bedroom door. The door opened and Percy entered, carrying a tray with the makings of tea on it. Fortunately, Andrew reflected, as he sat up his bed, he‘d taken the time to put his nightshirt on. His eyes quickly glanced about, taking inventory of the room, afraid something might be amiss—that something would reveal that he‘d spent the night in Thomas‘s room. But he could find nothing. ―Good morning, sir,‖ Percy said quietly, not really looking in his direction. Andrew smiled, doing his best to appear relaxed in the boy‘s presence. ―Good morning, Percy. How is the weather today?‖ Percy set the tray on the small table near the cold fireplace and poured some of the steaming hot liquid from the china teapot into a cup. ―It‘s a beautiful day, sir. Would you like me to start the fire?‖ ―That‘s all right. I don‘t plan on staying in for long.‖ ―Shall I have water brought up for your bath, then?‖ ―Yes, thank you.‖ The boy bowed and let himself out of the room. There, Andrew thought, I have managed to survive an encounter with a fearsome sixteen-year-old boy. The day is already showing promise. He picked up the cup of tea and inhaled the sweetsmelling steam as he walked to the window. The day was

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 180 indeed beautiful, the sun bright in a sky with just a few billowy white clouds drifting lazily by. Some movement caught his eye, and he realized it was Susan, playing merrily in the snow with two adults—Edward and Rebecca. He watched as Rebecca and Susan hurled snowballs at Edward, who fell over backward into a snow bank, laughing. The joyous scene warmed Andrew‘s heart. He wished the new family a lifetime of happiness together. It was sad, perhaps, that the life he and Thomas were planning together, most likely living in their rooms at the Club for the conceivable future as ―confirmed bachelors,‖ could not include children. But now that Thomas and the duke appeared to be reconciled, Andrew hoped he and the lord would be welcome to visit Susan and the rest of the family on holidays. That would have to do. And really, Andrew had what he wanted most in the world—and what he‘d thought he could never have: Thomas. All else paled by comparison. It would be a hard life, Andrew knew. A life of false facades and hiding the truth from people who might otherwise be their friends. And, always, the fear of discovery would dog them for the rest of their days—the fear of scandal; of incarceration; hard labor; even execution. He would never have chosen to bring Thomas into this. But he could not deny that the thought of Thomas loving him filled him with a joy so great it eclipsed all of these fears. They would survive. Together, they would manage to endure.

IT WAS while Thomas was descending the main staircase, after ordering his bags to be brought down, that Hew and Duncan hurried into the Great Hall.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 181 ―Your Lordship!‖ Hew said breathlessly. ―His Grace asked us to come get you, straight away.‖ ―Is something wrong?‖ ―I don‘t know, m‘lord. But His Grace was very insistent.‖ No doubt. The duke was always insistent. Thomas was disinclined to rush simply because his father demanded it, but he was loath to break the peace now that the duke had declared a truce. That was, provided the man remembered the events of last night at all. Thomas allowed the boys to lead him, scampering ahead like puppies, until they reached the kennel. There, they bowed and took their leave. They‘d seen the duke‘s temper and they were no fools. Thomas entered without knocking and found his father standing by the stove at the far end. The dogs were in the kennels, but they set off the alarm at the intruder, until the duke snarled, ―Be quiet!‖ That mollified them somewhat, though they still eyed Thomas warily as he ventured into their domain. ―You summoned me, Father?‖ The silver-haired man wearily ran his hand through unkempt hair, and Thomas realized that he was feeling hung over. The thought amused him, but he managed not to smile. ―Come in, Thomas,‖ the duke said in an oddly quiet voice, ―have a seat.‖ The overstuffed chair he indicated was rather worn and covered with dog hair, so Thomas wasn‘t entirely delighted to sit on it in his best riding clothes. But he did so nonetheless, perching as far forward as possible. It was the only chair in the room, so his father was forced to remain standing.

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 182 ―My behavior last night,‖ the duke began, moving from his place near the stove to pick up a large envelope from the table beside the chair, ―was deplorable. Please forgive me. I was… not myself.‖ ―Of course, Father.‖ The envelope was tied shut with a red ribbon and sealed with the duke‘s wax seal, as well. The man handed it to his son unopened. ―I don‘t intend to see you off. I‘m not presentable and seeing your Mr. Nash so soon would be awkward, to say the least.‖ ―As you wish, Father,‖ Thomas replied diplomatically, ―though I daresay Andrew is quite blind to such things.‖ The duke smiled. ―I like Mr. Nash. He‘s a good man. I heartily approve of him.‖ This, Thomas realized, was as much of a blessing on their relationship as would ever be stated out loud—at least when his father was sober—and Thomas was quite pleased to hear it. ―What‘s in the envelope? Should I open it?‖ ―No, not until you‘re away. I shall discuss it with Edward later, but currently he knows nothing of it.‖ This puzzled Thomas, but he merely tucked the envelope inside his jacket. It was an awkward fit, but he managed to conceal it. Then he stood and offered the tyrant who had dominated so much of his life his hand. ―I shall take my leave, then. I imagine the carriage has been brought ‘round for us.‖ His father took the proffered hand and shook it, his grip still powerful, despite the apparent frail state he was in. He hesitated, unable to look his son in the eye after so many years of bad blood between them. Then he said, ―I hope you can join us for the Easter holiday this year.‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 183 Thomas was touched more than he could have imagined by this simple invitation. Though things still felt tentative, he seemed to have become part of his family again—something he never dreamt would happen. And, he realized, it was largely due to Andrew. Wonderful, interfering Andrew. As he walked back to the hall, Susan came running up to him, her mittens and most of her outer things caked in snow. ―Uncle Thomas! Uncle Thomas! Will you come play with us?‖ ―I‘m afraid I can‘t this morning, poppet. Uncle Andrew and I are heading back to London.‖ ―Must you go?‖ Edward asked, coming up behind his daughter and scooping her up in his arms. His cheeks were red with cold, but he looked more joyful than Thomas could remember seeing him since childhood. ―It‘s been a wonderful holiday,‖ Thomas said, more or less truthfully, ―but we have things to attend to.‖ Rebecca approached, looking lovelier than ever in her jadecolored outer garments and muffler, her cheeks rosy to match Edward‘s. ―It‘s been so good to see you, Thomas. And it was lovely to meet Mr. Nash. We hope you can return very soon.‖ It didn‘t escape Thomas‘s notice that she was now speaking as someone who was part of the household now. Which was as it should be. He gave her a warm smile and bowed over her proffered hand. Andrew was already at the carriage when they came around to the front of the manor, overseeing Hew and Duncan as they wrestled with his baggage. ―If‘n you ever need servants in London,‖ Duncan was telling the blond, ―you be sure to look us up, sir.‖ Though Thomas appreciated the boys‘ loyalty, he was far from convinced that they understood the nature of his

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 184 relationship with Andrew. And although that relationship was based upon love, in his view, he knew society considered it to be something filthy. Certainly not something sixteen-year-olds should have knowledge of. So, it was perhaps for the best that Andrew told the young man, ―I very much appreciate the offer, Duncan. But I doubt the duke would be happy if I lured you away from the estate. Besides, who would look after Susan?‖ Thomas led his friend back inside to say goodbye to Duchess Barrington. It was, of course, not to be expected that she would come down to the carriage to see them off. Then they left Barrington Hall behind them. At least, for the present. Andrew watched through the window of the carriage as the hall receded into the distance. Thomas had seen the sight too many times to pay it much heed, but he enjoyed the wistful look on his lover‘s angelic face. ―We‘ve been invited back,‖ he said at last, ―for Easter.‖ ―Really?‖ ―By Father, no less.‖ Andrew turned to him with a delighted expression. ―Oh, Thomas! That‘s wonderful.‖ ―You’re wonderful,‖ Thomas replied, looking into the clear blue eyes with tenderness, as he reached into his jacket for the envelope. He could no longer contain his curiosity about it. ―What is that?‖ He broke the wax seal and unwrapped the ribbon. ―I‘m not certain. Father gave it to me, before I left him.‖ The envelope contained several documents. The first appeared to be a letter from Duke Barrington‘s attorney. Thomas read it, growing more and more puzzled, until Andrew could no longer remain silent. ―Well?‖

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 185 Thomas looked up at him, somewhat stunned. ―The house in London, where Edward stays when he conducts business there….‖ ―What about it?‖ ―It‘s ours now. Father gave it to me.‖ The startled expression on Andrew‘s face was comical. Neither man said anything for a few moments as the carriage bumped along the country road. At last, Thomas sighed and said, ―Even in reconciling, he feels the need to manipulate me.‖ ―How do you mean?‖ ―Obviously, he thinks we need looking after. As though we might get caught in a compromising position if we remain in our rooms at the Club.‖ The corner of Andrew‘s beautiful mouth quirked up, as he said, ―I don‘t suppose I have any say in the matter?‖ ―Of course you do.‖ ―Then don‘t be a fool, Thomas. We shall be far more comfortable in a house—and have much more privacy, I daresay—than at the Club.‖ Thomas couldn‘t deny the truth of that. ―But I thought you liked the Club,‖ he said, his objection sounding feeble, even to his ears. ―What I like, my love, is you. Buckingham Palace itself would seem a meager, desolate shack without you in it. But so long as we‘re together, I hardly see the need to turn our noses up at a manor house.‖ ―In truth, it‘s a very small manor house.‖ This caused Andrew to laugh aloud. They were riding past empty, snow-covered fields now, so he risked crossing the

The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden 186 carriage to slip into the seat beside him. The blond took one of Thomas‘s gloved hands in both of his own. ―It will be our house,‖ he said softly, his sparkling blue eyes locked with Thomas‘s own, ―That‘s all that matters.‖ Thomas looked into those eyes and knew that he would never be able to deny this man anything he desired. ―Yes,‖ he replied, smiling at last. ―So long as we‘re together.‖ He leaned forward and their lips met.

About the Author

JAMIE FESSENDEN set out to be a writer in junior high school. He published a couple short pieces in his high school‘s literary magazine and had another story place in the top 100 in a national contest, but it wasn‘t until he met his partner, Erich, almost twenty years later, that he began writing again in earnest. With Erich alternately inspiring and goading him, Jamie wrote several screenplays and directed a few of them as micro-budget independent films. His latest completed work premiered at the Indie Fest 2009 in Los Angeles and also played at the Austin Gay and Lesbian International Film Festival two weeks later. After nine years together, Jamie and Erich have married and purchased a house together in the wilds of Raymond, New Hampshire, where there are no street lights, turkeys and deer wander through their yard, and coyotes serenade them on a nightly basis. Jamie currently works as technical support for a computer company in Portsmouth, NH, but fantasizes about someday quitting his day job to be a full-time writer. Visit Jamie at http://jamiefessenden.wordpress.com/.

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Copyright

The Christmas Wager ©Copyright Jamie Fessenden, 2010 Published by Dreamspinner Press 4760 Preston Road Suite 244-149 Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite 244-149, Frisco, TX 75034 http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America December 2010 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61581-741-2

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