Still soaking wet, Edward laughed as he shivered violently in the sunlight, unable to stop
himself from grinning at Alfred as the other man did the same.
He couldn't help himself - he adored being around Alfred, he looked forward to seeing his
face light up, hearing the sound of his laugh - even just being around him made Edward
feel more at ease. He didn't know why this was, exactly. He just breathed easier when he
knew that Alfred was there, his tension disappeared - he felt that there was somebody else
who understood him. Edward was so used to feeling different to everyone around him - he
had always been extremely cautious, feeling that he had some secret to protect, though he
was unable to put a name to it. He had felt alone in hiding this secret for so long - but as
soon as he first saw Alfred, as soon as Alfred sent him that knowing half-smirk across the
room, he knew that Alfred understood, that Alfred knew what it was to keep part of yourself
hidden.
It was as if both of them had this strange secret, and they knew that the other knew it - and
yet they were not able to discuss this secret with each other, they couldn't fully
acknowledge it.
They were friends, the best of friends, and Edward felt immensely lucky to have this
closeness and intimacy that he had never felt with anyone before, certainly not anyone of
the fairer sex. And yet - there was something missing. It felt ridiculous and ungrateful even
thinking that, particularly as he couldn't even explain adequately - or at least acceptably -
what it was that was lacking between them. But he couldn't deny that he felt something, a
warm kind of yearning feeling every time Alfred smirked, or winked, or laughed, or gave him
that frank and open look, letting his smooth and polite courtier's mask fall away for a
second. Sometimes, Edward caught himself staring at Alfred for a split second too long,
watching him as he stretched his arm back on the archery field, the muscles rippling, or as
he leaned nonchalantly against the wall, arms folded, or as he absentmindedly pushed his
blonde hair out of his eyes. At these times, some burning feeling seemed to rise up in him
and he had to fight down a bizarre and utterly unacceptable impulse to reach out and touch
Alfred's face, to sweep his hair out of his eyes, to place a hand on the other man's shirt
and feel the heartbeat under his palm. Reluctant to question his own feelings any further, all
Edward knew was that he needed to be close to Alfred, physically close to him, feel the
warmth of his body beside him.
Not being able to find any acceptable excuse for such closeness, however, Edward had
spent the past few months resigning himself to the fact that he would have to keep his
distance.
So, when His Royal Highness, Prince Albert, had suddenly decreed on this diplomatic trip
that he was going to take a swim in a beautiful French lake, sans clothes, it had seemed to
Edward a blessing too good to be true. It was as if the prince himself was giving them
permission to relax, to let down their guard for once, to discard not only their clothes but the
careful and dignified facades which they constantly had to wear around court. The Prince's
reckless, naked, uncivilised and unrespectable leap into the cool and sparkling lake made
it seem like anything was possible. After all, they were not in London - something about the
French court felt more daring and wanton than its English counterpart.
Edward had looked across at Alfred as soon as the prince had stripped off and dived into
the lake, a great feeling of recklessness spreading over him.
"Shall we?" he asked, attempting to speak casually without letting his excitement show. As
Alfred gazed back at him, Edward saw his own eagerness reflected in Alfred's bright blue
eyes.
"I don't see why not!", the other man had responded laughingly.
Edward had barely taken his eyes from Alfred as they stripped, so giddy and excited that
he could not contain his grin. He could barely believe he was being given this chance to
see Alfred in such a natural, unguarded and playful state - finally he felt that he could truly
see what was beneath the surface.
Shivering in the cold water, Edward had looked around to see where Alfred had got to, and
immediately had felt the warmth of Alfred's bare skin on his as the blonde man playfully
began to wrestle with him. Laughing gleefully, he had enthusiastically joined in. As the pair
splashed each other in the early evening sunlight, it seemed for a few glorious minutes as if
the rest of the world had gone quiet and peaceful - Alfred's beautiful smile was all that
Edward could see. Being there with Alfred, skin touching skin - somehow, Edward knew
that it felt right.
All too soon, however, Edward found himself called back to reality by Prince Albert's voice,
as though from a long distance away, calling for them all to get back before they were
missed. Glancing at each other, a world of meaning in one look, Edward and Alfred
reluctantly got out of the water - they could hardly keep frolicking, carefree, without the
company of the princes. As they pulled on their clothes, shivering yet still unable to keep
from laughing with giddiness and excitement, Edward found it near impossible to tear his
gaze away from Alfred. Something had shifted between them, he felt it, he saw it in the
other man's eyes.
He was pulled out of his reverie by a polite and somewhat uncomfortable cough. The
cough was Prince Albert's, clearly trying to attract their attention - and as Edward turned
around to look at him, ready to apologise for his inattentiveness, he caught a brief glance
between Prince Albert and his brother Ernest. Though fleeting, the look made Edward's
heart sink momentarily. There was a mutual unspoken unease and awkwardness
communicated between the princes, as though they had noticed a strange intimacy and joy
between the other men that was unusual between friends.
Edward began to panic slightly - he did not know how to describe his relationship with
Alfred even to himself, much less to anyone else, much less to these powerful men with
such influence. He chanced a look at Alfred, who met his eyes - it was clear from Alfred's
warning gaze that he, too, had noticed the princes' unease. Quickly, the two men looked
away from each other, Alfred covering the uncomfortable moment with his usual courtier's
flair, jovially addressing the two princes. Albert and Ernest seemed to relax somewhat with
Alfred's words, laughing as he joked about what on earth the Duchess of Buccleuch would
say about their dripping wet appearance.
Though extremely grateful for Alfred's quick thinking and charm, Edward still couldn't help
feeling a little unnerved. He couldn't put a name to whatever was happening between him
and Alfred, but he did know on some level that whatever he was feeling would be
considered wrong, abnormal, even perverse, if anybody found out. Especially if they knew
what Edward was barely able to admit to himself - that the thought of going home to
Florence, marrying her and lying with her, filled him with dread, while the thought of staying
alone with just Alfred filled him with warmth and a tingling feeling of excitement.
It was rapidly becoming impossible to deny to himself that his feelings for Alfred were
dangerous. Although swimming in the lake with him had made Edward happier and more
relaxed than he could ever remember being - not least because Alfred had seemed just as
excited as him - the uneasy look between Princes Albert and Ernest was a grim and
unwelcome reminder for Edward. He simply could not afford to give anyone any reason to
believe that he and Lord Alfred were anything more than ordinary male friends, smoking
cigars and chatting casually about politics and the charms of women.
Edward followed the other men back to the sumptuous palace in silence, listening to Albert
and Ernest's chatter and doing his best to maintain a distance from Alfred despite his
body's overwhelming instinct to stay close to him.
Once at the palace, the princes strode straight in, Albert muttering something about
changing out of his wet clothes before Victoria got back from the lawn party. Edward made
to follow them - but once Albert and Ernest were out of earshot, Alfred reached out to stop
Edward with a gentle hand on his shoulder. To any onlookers, it would have merely
appeared a casual, thoughtless gesture - but Edward felt it as a very deliberate touch, and
his heart instantly skipped a beat. Brown eyes met blue, and Edward tried very hard to
appear for all the world as if their interaction was of little interest or importance.
"Care for a cigar, Drummond?", Alfred asked in an all-too-casual tone, his voice completely
at odds with the way his eyes flashed at Edward from beneath his eyelashes.
Edward swallowed, wondering yet again how one sentence and one smirking look from
Alfred could have such a ridiculous effect on him.
Struggling to keep his voice as impressively steady and disinterested as Alfred's had been,
he responded, hoping desperately that Alfred would grasp the deeper meaning behind his
own words.
"Certainly, Lord Alfred. I wouldn't go anywhere without my trusty tinderbox."
Alfred grinned that delicious grin at him, the one that hinted at a secret that only the pair of them knew.
As they had done in Buckingham Palace months before, the pair retired to a balcony
looking out over the palace grounds - only this time they were looking out over one of
France's most beautiful estates, rather than England's. The sun was gradually setting,
staining the horizon with astoundingly beautiful pink and gold. Turning to look at Alfred,
Edward found himself almost struck speechless. It was hard enough at the best of times to
look away from him - but now, in the setting sun, his golden hair gleamed, the play of light
on his face made his beautiful pale eyelashes stand out even more than usual. Every inch
of him was bathed in the warm light - he looked, Edward thought foolishly to himself, like
an Adonis.
As Edward held out his tinderbox so that Alfred could light his cigar with it, Alfred spoke up.
"That was certainly an….intriguing experience this afternoon, wouldn't you say,
Drummond?" His voice was light, teasing, but his deep blue eyes smouldered at Edward.
Edward's breath caught in his throat and he fumbled somewhat with his tinder box - he lit
his own cigar and took a puff on it before responding to Alfred, attempting to give himself
some time to think and appear less of an idiot. Judging by the somewhat irritating but no
less arousing smirk on Alfred's face, however, he had not actually succeeded in anything
except looking even more like a swooning idiot.
"Yes, it was indeed most….illuminating, Lord Alfred", he responded, wondering as he gazed
into Alfred's face if there was any possibility that he had remotely the same dazzling effect
on the shorter blonde man as Alfred had on him.
For a few moments - or perhaps it was a few hours - the two of them stared at each other,
drinking each other in. As they looked at each other, it felt like the rest of the world had
once again fallen away, like an eternity held in a second. When Alfred suddenly spoke in
his deep, warm voice, it felt to Edward like a sudden jolt, as if some kind of hypnotising
spell had been broken. He mentally shook himself, once again irritated and bewildered at
this all-encompassing effect Alfred had on him. Having chastised himself, he suddenly
realised that he had heard the comforting sound of Alfred's voice, but hadn't actually taken
in a word he had said.
"I - I'm sorry, could you possibly repeat? I…." He could feel his face burning with
embarrassment, and cursed himself again for appearing so ridiculous, but Alfred merely
laughed his beautiful, warm, affectionate laugh.
"I said, Drummond, that perhaps we should take the chance for a little stroll", Alfred said.
"These are, after all, remarkably beautiful grounds, and I should like the chance to
be….illuminated on them further, before I return to London with the Queen. That is, if you
would care to join me. I feel I should look rather a lonely fool if I took a stroll alone."
Edward stared at him. What, exactly, was he suggesting? Searching Alfred's face, he saw
not just the usual amusement and affection in his eyes, but a hint of something else
Edward often felt in himself - vulnerability, self-doubt. They had both stripped off their
clothing earlier to jump in the lake, but now Alfred seemed to be laying himself bare in a
different way. Edward felt a gush of affection for the other man, stronger than he had ever
felt before.
Hesitating before answering, he struggled to remember that he must still address Alfred
formally, as one friendly courtier would address another. Instinctively, Edward looked
around before answering.
"Certainly, Lord Alfred, a stroll in this balmy air would be extremely pleasant", he responded
carefully. "But - surely we would be missed by the queen? We cannot just abandon her
over dinner, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly."
They both knew that the petite queen would likely be too absorbed in political negotiations
with the French king to spare much thought for them. Though he dared not say it outright,
what Edward actually meant with his words, and what he hoped Alfred understood, was
that they could not risk anybody noticing that they were both mysteriously missing from the
table at the same time. Not when all of the queen's entourage was supposed to be at
dinner. And especially not when they had already caught a suspicious and uneasy look
between the princes earlier that day.
Alfred smiled back at him, clearly catching the meaning behind his words. "Well now, I
certainly didn't mean to suggest that we should abandon the poor queen over dinner, that
would be most ungracious", he said smoothly. "I rather thought we should wait until our
duties are fully concluded for the day, when we are no longer needed - what say you we
meet under this very balcony after nightfall? Say, at midnight?"
Edward closed his eyes briefly as a heady current of desire rushed through him. Alfred had
not even suggested anything except a night time walk, but his words spoken in that deep
and warm voice, the spiralling scent of the cigars, and the suggestive glint in Alfred's eyes
as Edward met his gaze again, were all combining to make him somewhat dizzy. It was
difficult to think straight.
We shouldn't, a small voice at the back of his head whispered. It's stupid, it's reckless
….But he knew, deep down - and he was sure Alfred did too - that it was no good
pretending to themselves anymore. It was far too late, and he was in far too deep. And he
wanted this. He wanted it so badly. He cleared his throat and tried his best to keep his
voice steady and free of the emotion that was threatening to overcome him.
"Very well - midnight, then, Lord Alfred."
Alfred's face cleared of anxiety and, very quickly, he winked at Edward, as he had done
once before when pondering their mutual inability to understand the fairer sex. Then,
clearly preparing to go back inside and face the rest of the court, Alfred's flirtatious
expression completely disappeared, replaced with an expression of casual friendliness. He
bowed his head.
"Very good, Drummond."
A few hours later, Edward was pacing up and down inside the bedchamber he had been
assigned. He was anxious, on high alert, waiting until the sounds of footsteps and
murmuring voices outside had completely ceased, and obsessively checking his pocket
watch for the time. He needed to leave very soon if he wanted to meet Alfred on time, in the
agreed spot. Part of his brain was tensely going over all the possible ways in which this
rendezvous could go wrong, the various people who might catch them or stop them with
awkward questions. Another part of him was worrying that he had got everything all wrong,
that he had misinterpreted Alfred's request for a stroll as something more meaningful than
it actually was. This waiting was agony.
Finally, after what felt like hours, the footsteps outside faded away. Opening the door a tiny
crack to check the coast was clear, Edward could see nothing but a dark and abandoned
corridor. Inhaling deeply, and reminding himself that it was now or never, he silently slipped
out of his room.
Shivering slightly as he stood under the balcony waiting, Edward tried to relax. But he
couldn't help wondering why midnight had passed, nearly a quarter of an hour ago, and
Alfred had still not come to meet him as he had promised. Had he decided against it,
decided that Edward was not worth the risk? Or even worse - had he been intercepted and
interrogated on his way?
Edward closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing - and, out of nowhere, a hand
grasped his shoulder. He jumped a foot in the air before hearing the beautifully warm and
familiar laugh of Alfred himself.
"That was too easy, Drummond, really it was."
Though embarrassed at himself, Edward couldn't stop himself from laughing along with the
other man, relief seeping through him. He grinned, drinking in the sight of Alfred.
"What kept you?"
"My apologies", Alfred responded, sounding genuinely contrite even though his deep voice
was still tinged with amusement, "but it occurred to me that we might want some
sustenance to take with us." He lifted up a huge picnic basket, opening the lid to show
Edward the foods that were packed to the brim within it.
Edward gaped at the sight of mouthwatering French pastries, juicy cuts of pheasant and
chicken, creamy cheeses, oysters - there was even a bottle of champagne tucked away in
there.
"But how….?"
"Oh, it was quite simple, you know. Just a last-minute idea I had of bribing some of the
kitchen maids. They were really very accommodating." Edward's brief flash of jealousy
must have shown on his face, for Alfred shook his head, adding "I only meant that I bribed
them with money, Drummond. Who did you think you were talking to, Prince Ernest?"
Edward laughed in relief as Alfred continued to look at him with exasperated affection. "No,
Lord Alfred. I really wouldn't say that you have very much in common with His Highness
Prince Ernest," he responded, thinking of the queen's womanising brother-in-law.
Alfred grinned. "I can't help it if the maids happen to find me charming. But I fear my tastes
may perhaps run a little differently."
He fixed Edward with an intense look, which Edward found he had to look away from after
a few seconds - it was like looking at the sun. As so often happened when he was around
this man, he felt slightly delirious - his brain seemed reluctant to focus on forming coherent
sentences.
"Well, come along then, Lord Alfred", he said, grinning slightly. "After all, you've brought this
remarkable feast - surely we'll find something that will appeal to your tastes."
Alfred laughed, sounding both taken aback and pleased - Edward was not normally quite
so forward. Seemingly casual conversation laden with innuendos was usually Alfred's forte.
Edward grinned again, elated to have taken Alfred by surprise, and to have discovered that
the other man seemed to enjoy this slightly bolder side. He found that he was even
beginning to take himself by surprise with his newfound confidence. Reaching out to take
hold of the heavy picnic basket dangling from Alfred's arm, Edward's hand brushed against
Alfred's just the tiniest bit, and he felt his skin immediately begin to tingle with electricity.
Alfred jumped back slightly as though he hadn't been expecting the contact, and Edward
distinctly heard him draw in a steadying breath. He looked up into Alfred's face - the blonde
was looking vulnerable again, embarrassed by his reaction to Edward's very slight touch.
Edward tried his best not to smirk. He himself had been blatantly obvious often enough
about how much he was in Alfred's thrall - it was somewhat intoxicating to know that he
could produce a similar effect.
"I was only going to suggest that I could help you carry the basket, Lord Alfred. There is an
awful lot in there", he said quietly. Without taking his eyes away from Alfred's beautiful blue
gaze, he slowly and deliberately reached out his hand again, and placed it gently but firmly
over Alfred's on the basket. They looked at each other, silently acknowledging that
whatever they were doing, there was no turning back from it. Alfred gestured with his head
towards the moonlit grounds, and, hands still clasped over the basket, they set off down
the path.
It was odd, Edward thought to himself. How overwhelmingly intimate and peaceful it felt,
just to be strolling along the grounds, carrying a picnic basket together in companionable
silence, shooting looks at each other and grinning abashedly when they caught each other
staring.
He revelled in the soft breeze on his face, the smell of the grass, and especially the feeling
of Alfred's warm and smooth hand under his own. He felt as if all of his senses were more
finely tuned tonight than ever before. With nobody else anywhere to be seen, he and Alfred
were in a little world of their own, and he was determined to cling onto it while he could.
Stopping at a flat patch of grass which afforded them a sweeping view over the rest of the
grounds, they lowered the picnic basket together, hands lingering together for longer than
was strictly necessary.
Edward sat down and closed his eyes, wanting to lose himself in the peaceful moment.
After a moment, however, he realised Alfred was still standing over him. He opened his
eyes and looked up at the blonde, tilting his head quizzically. Alfred had that endearingly
familiar look he got when he had spotted a problem, and was trying to figure out what to do.
Edward had often seen that look, when Prince Albert was excitedly exclaiming about some
new idea he and Peel were planning to bring to the queen's attention, and Alfred was
hesitantly trying to think of a way to politely warn them that their ideas would actually make
the headstrong queen furious.
"What is it, Lord Alfred?" he asked teasingly. "I know that look."
Looking increasingly frustrated with himself, Alfred responded "It's just….I went to all that
effort to pack us a feast, and I completely forgot to bring a blanket! We have nothing to sit
on except the ground!"
Edward stared at him for a second, and then burst out laughing. Alfred looked bewildered at
this reaction.
"Is that really all there is, Alfred?", Edward sniggered, forgetting in his amused affection to
add the prefix 'Lord' that he always used when addressing the other man in society.
Alfred's blue eyes widened in indignation, which did nothing to stop Edward's giggling.
"Well, we can't just sit down on the ground", Alfred countered defensively. "We'd completely
wrinkle our clothing and we would get dirt on our...on our…" Alfred seemed, for once, to be
lost for words.
Edward rolled his eyes, grinning. Being only the son of a middle-class banker, and having
worked his own way up to being the Prime Minister's private secretary and thus earned an
invitation into court circles, he occasionally forgot just how much of an aristocrat Alfred was.
Alfred had been a fixture of the lavish royal court for so long, and his parents had taught
him about it for so long before that, that courtly etiquette and style was second nature to
him. Of course he was kind and thoughtful and compassionate to others, and he certainly
wasn't above creating a little mischief, as Edward knew. But it couldn't be denied that Alfred
had a great appreciation for material things such as expensive clothing, which Edward
rarely concerned himself with more than absolutely necessary. It was also thoroughly
amusing to Edward that, despite Alfred's frequent pointed innuendos, his dignified
aristocratic upbringing meant that he couldn't bring himself to straightforwardly name
certain body parts.
"Well then, my lord", he teased pointedly, earning himself a look from Alfred that was both
indignant and amusedly sheepish, "if the thought of sitting on the ground is really so deeply
offensive to you, I suggest we make do with an impromptu blanket." In response to Alfred's
look of confusion, Edward swiftly took off his tailcoat and swept it neatly onto the ground.
Alfred stared at him. "Edward, you can't be serious."
He grinned, relishing the fact that Alfred, seemingly without even realising it, had called him
intimately by his first name, rather than addressing him formally as 'Drummond' as he
usually did.
"Why would I not be serious?", he asked, sitting himself down upon his tailcoat in an
ungainly manner and patting the space beside him.
"Well, for one thing, you'll get your coat filthy"...Edward rolled his eyes once more. "Yes, a
tragedy indeed", he teased.
Alfred still looked hesitant, but Edward had had enough of this dancing around each other
all the time. After all, he would have to go home to Florence soon enough (he tried to
repress the painful thought as soon as it came to him), and if this was the only time he was
going to have alone with Alfred, without the watchful eyes of the court upon them forcing
him to conceal his affection - well then, he damned well wasn't going to let the obstacle of a
muddy coat foil him.
Impatiently, he reached up and tugged, hard, on the bottom of Alfred's expensive tailcoat.
Taken completely by surprise, Alfred tumbled down, most uncharacteristically and
gracelessly. Laughing at how ridiculous Alfred looked, Edward was suddenly cut off by
Alfred's landing right on top of him.
He barely had time to register the amazingly pleasant feeling of Alfred's warm body in his
lap before Alfred had scrambled off of him, his face more adorably flushed than Edward
had ever seen it.
"I would apologise for crushing you", Alfred near stammered, "but it seems, Edward, that
you are determined to rob me of any remaining dignity I possess."
Edward grinned at him, again astonishing himself with how lighthearted and daring he felt.
"No need to apologise, Alfred. I actually rather enjoyed the experience."
Alfred seemed struck speechless for a moment, gazing open-mouthed at him until Edward
began to worry he had ruined everything and crossed some sort of line. There was shock
written across Alfred's face, but there was something else too that Edward couldn't
precisely identify - something akin to hunger. Finally, Alfred spoke, sounding more sincere
and less teasing than Edward had ever heard him.
"Well, I suppose if I were to be completely honest - I rather enjoyed it as well."
Edward smiled at him, and they sat in silence for a few moments, Edward feeling more
understood and loved than he had ever felt before. Tearing his gaze reluctantly away from
Alfred, he spoke, unable to keep the joy from his voice.
"Now, about this feast…."
Together, they unpacked the delicious array of food and drink. Edward poured out a glass
of champagne for each of them - they toasted each other and drank, making Edward feel
somehow even more lightheaded than before. Tasting an oyster, Alfred made a face of
melodramatic rapture that sent Edward into a giggling fit, likely assisted by the champagne
he had drunk.
"Edward, you simply have to try this", he declared.
"What?"
He suddenly found Alfred mere inches away from his face, holding out the oyster shell.
"Taste", he commanded in a voice that was almost a whisper. Trying to ignore the sudden
flare of warmth in his stomach that accompanied Alfred's closeness, Edward obeyed,
sucking the juice from the oyster without taking his eyes away from the other man's. Alfred
sat back and watched him intently as he swallowed.
"Well?"
Edward felt both emotionally and physically overwhelmed, in the best way possible, and he
struggled to form a coherent answer.
"I think….we certainly are eating like princes tonight, Alfred."
Alfred grinned.
"Eating like princes tonight, swimming like princes yesterday."
Edward grinned too, remembering Prince Albert's reckless decision that had encouraged
them to follow suit, leading to….this.
"Yes, that was quite the remarkable experience."
"Although rather cold", Alfred responded. "Almost as cold as you look right now, Edward."
It was true that sacrificing his tailcoat as a picnic blanket was causing Edward to shiver
more than a little in the cool night air.
"No, really, I'm fine", he protested - but before he knew it, he was being gently wrapped up
next to Alfred, as the other man tried to envelop both of them in his own coat.
"We'll share", Alfred murmured.
Edward would have at least tried to protest, but he found that his throat was too tight with
emotion. He was nestled there, tucked in tightly next to Alfred's body, and he had never felt
warmer or safer.
The two men closed their eyes and sat there in peaceful silence, listening to the quiet
sound of each other's breathing.
This was their moment, Edward knew that. He only wished it could be their forever.
But time flew past, no matter how much you willed it to stay still. It seemed to Edward only
a moment later that he and Alfred were juddering along back to London, crammed tightly
into a carriage with the cantankerous Duchess of Buccleuch and her sweet but naive nice,
Wilhelmina.
It was a very small carriage for four people and they were all crammed in together quite
tightly. This presented quite a problem for Edward, who had somehow found himself
jammed next to Alfred. He had already spent what felt like hours trying desperately not to
reach out and stroke Alfred's hand, though every inch of his body and mind seemed
desperate to betray him in front of the Duchess and her niece. Alfred occasionally shot him
a look warning him to be careful - but on the other hand, some of his glances failed to
convey caution, but simply reflected his own longing back at him. This is torture, Edward
thought as he tried to force his hands to remain clasped in his own lap, attempting to
distract himself by listening to the Duchess's diatribe against the French and their evil
ways.
"What about you, Drummond? What did you think?" Alfred's tone was carefully indifferent,
but his blue eyes gleamed teasingly at Edward.
Don't tease him back, Edward thought to himself. This is getting ridiculous. But then Alfred
smirked at him, and Edward's caution seemed to vanish as he thought, To hell with it.
"I agree with the Duchess", he responded, trying and failing to keep the joy in his voice
hidden. "The trip was stylish, but" - his dark gaze once more met Alfred's blue - "not
altogether respectable."
He couldn't help it. He grinned.