So this is a new story I've written. I guess you could call it a short story, or a really long oneshot :P it's inspired by the movie 'The Duchess' which is really great, but sad...so anyway, I hope you like :)
James watched the young men and women in the middle of the lawn, the manor visible in the distance, the picture of magnificence and aristocracy. The men were racing around the circle of trees, but stayed away from his. The women were cheering them on, screeching encouragement so their favourites would come out on top. And in the centre of them, hands hugging his forearms, was someone who didn't cheer, or scream. He just smiled, laughing softly to himself as he watched the races, oblivious to the fact that he himself was being watched. That even if he didn't realise it, there was rarely a moment in the day when he wasn't being watched.
It was his job to watch him. Or more to be there, if he needed anything. It was the best job he could've asked for in that large, cold house. James had been born in that house, just like the family who owned it had been. Only they'd been born on expensive sheets, while he was in the small servants' quarters. This house belonged to Jennifer Knight, widowed wife of a late earl. She had never married again, and only had one child; Kendall. He looked just like his father, was what the older servants always said. Only softer and sweeter. James had never met Kendall's father, he had only seen portraits of him; he couldn't agree more.
James had grown up working for the Knights, as his parents had done. He continued to do so even after his mother passed away when he was fifteen years old. Her body had been burnt, after a few small prayers were said. On that day, James had felt a touch of bitterness towards this hierarchical system he lived in. Kendall's father had died a few years back, when Kendall was only seven or eight, and the funeral procession had been huge. What did he do to deserve a more passionate goodbye than James' mother?
He'd felt this bitterness and sat in his room alone (because although he normally shared it, his roommates had chosen to give him some space) awaiting the next day of work that Jennifer insisted he take, until he heard voices outside. A soft and gentle one, talking to one of the maids. The maid hurriedly opened James' door and curtsied, before stepping back to let Kendall walk in. He was no older than twelve at the time. He sat beside James on the small creaky bed, hands clasped together like he was nervous. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before turning to James and giving a small smile. James just stared at him blankly, wondering what on earth he was doing there in the dark and dismal home of the 'lesser beings'.
Then he spoke, slowly and quietly. James had heard a slow tone of voice used on him before, as though he were stupid. Like an animal. But this wasn't like that. It was clear he just didn't know what to say. "I . . . I'm sorry about your mother."
James was so stunned, he couldn't say anything except, "Oh . . ."
"She used to tell me stories sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, and she worked up in the halls at night . . . she was, um, she was a good person."
James remembered when she'd worked up there. It had been recently enough after the earl had passed away.
"And . . . I was sad when my father died, but I didn't know him very well. I suppose you knew her. I don't know exactly what you're going through, but I have an idea." Then he reached out tentatively and placed his hand over James'. For a few seconds, James did nothing. It was only when Kendall moved to get up and leave that his fingers curled around the blond's small hand, holding it there. Kendall turned to look at him, half off the bed.
"I . . ." James didn't know what to say. Don't go was what he wanted to say. But he knew of course, that he had to. So at last, he managed to weakly squeeze his hand and say, "Thank you."
Kendall grinned at him in relief. "You don't need to thank me. I'll make sure you're looked after."
As Kendall left the room, James felt something strange. His heart beating faster, a kind of tingle in his fingers where he'd held Kendall's hand, his cheeks flushing. Somehow, the situation didn't seem as bad anymore. It was a sort of light seeping in through the cracks of whatever small dark space he'd been trapped in.
It took him a couple of weeks to suddenly realise one morning that what he felt was love. That one conversation had sent him falling head over heels in love with Kendall. He didn't understand how that could possibly happen; how could one conversation alter him this way? Only a few minutes together and he wanted to spend the rest of his minutes with him. It was mad, it was ridiculous. He could never tell anyone about his feelings, not even his closest friends. They would never understand. They would never see the beauty in the countess's son, or ever truly understand how kind he was. James only knew these things from observing him from afar, particularly at family events in the manor. He seemed to be quite shy among guests who came to balls and banquets in the manor, but he was polite and charming. He always had very pale, smooth looking skin, and he was very slim.
James was startled when one day, very soon after he turned sixteen, when he was called to the library by the countess herself. Normally they would just speak to the butler about these kinds of things. She wanted her son to have a companion; now that he was thirteen she felt that he was too old to be cared for by a nanny or a maid. Male company of a similar age would be more suitable. James was to accompany him everywhere he went unless requested otherwise, he was to help him dress and undress, draw his baths, act as both a personal servant and a friend. If he'd been asked to do this for anyone else, James was sure he would've seen that as an impossible task. But really he found this too good to be true. He was sent to Kendall's room immediately.
He knocked on the door, breath catching in his throat as he heard the soft voice call out, "Come in."
He did, giving a small bow as his eyes fell on Kendall, sitting on the window seat, back straight, shoulders back. "Sir," he greeted politely, trying not to let his voice shake. "I have been assigned as your personal, man in waiting, I suppose . . . that is, er, the countess . . ."
"Don't worry. She told me." Kendall stood up, closing his book, and stepping closer to James. He smiled. "I remember you. James, was it?"
"Y-yes, sir."
"Please call me Kendall. We will be spending a lot of time together from now on and I would really prefer a more informal approach. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable . . ."
"No, no Kendall, it's alright, please don't worry."
"Alright, wonderful." Kendall smiled wider. "I'm trust I'm in good hands."
And it was due to this new closer relationship with Kendall that James began to find out more about him. He and his mother weren't close at all, and sometimes Kendall truly couldn't stand her. She made it clear that she had always wanted a daughter, she'd been expecting a daughter. She treated him like a daughter, apparently. His face was always so pale, so even because it had been powdered. She had his body tied in with endless strings. Corsets were for women, it was both humiliating and uncomfortable. He joked that he'd developed much more respect for women after wearing one for the first time. Although, he could sometimes understand why his mother treated him as such. Girls were supposed to be weak; he was weak. They'd discovered this at a young age; there was a problem with his chest, his breathing. He couldn't run far, he couldn't be out in the winter air for too long if he wasn't covered up completely.
Discovering all these things about Kendall, it made James understand him much better. And naturally, it made him love him all the more. Watching him now, under the tree, the way he couldn't race with the other men for fear of collapsing, James wanted nothing more than to whisk him away, somewhere they could be alone. He'd seen him undress one too many times. He'd watched his body grow and change as he grew from thirteen to seventeen. Some of the other servants teased James, for being an adult and still acting like the blond's personal maid. He would never trade it for any other position, not for all the money in the world.
James was folding down Kendall's bedsheets, laying his nightwear on the bed when the blond finally walked in, dressed in his finest attire. He looked exhausted, as he always did after a party, but there was something different about him; a definite perkiness, a little quiver in his knees. "James, I have some news."
James straightened up immediately, smiling and holding out his arms as the younger boy approached him. "What is it, Kendall?" Kendall turned around and let James shrug his coat off his shoulders, moving to hang it up as Kendall began to open his shirt.
"Do you know Lord Arthur Griffin?" Kendall asked him, laying his shirt on the bed and trying to reach behind his back to untie the strings of his corset. "I can never undo this beastly thing."
"Let me," James chuckled, moving behind him and slowly untying all the strings, letting the tight material fall from his body and smiling as the blond let out a loud sigh of relief, slumping down to sit on the bed and kick off his shoes. "I have heard of him. Was he here tonight?"
"No, he had previous engagements he had to attend, he sent a letter to my mother in advance, giving his reasons and an apology . . . and something else."
"Something else?" James repeated, frowning as he hung the rest of Kendall's clothes up neatly in the wardrobe and watch him slip into his nightshirt.
Kendall then moved over to the vanity and sat down, taking his hairbrush and running it through his hair, loosening it and letting it fall over his forehead. He began to clean the powder from his face, before smiling nervously at James in the mirror and saying, "Mother told me that Lord Griffin wants to marry me."
"He . . . marry you?" James felt his knees shake violently and he had to rest his hand on the table to hold himself up. He tried to smile as though this was the greatest news he'd ever heard. He knew he was failing. "Even . . . even though you're a man?" If being seventeen even qualified as such . . .
"Yes, I couldn't believe it myself. She told me he says he enjoys my company. He thinks I'm charming." Kendall blushed.
"Charming, yes." Kendall was charming indeed. He was very popular among the local community, greatly admired by a lot of people. They all loved him. Could this be the reason; his status alone? "But what about an heir for his estate?"
"He said that his mother was incapable of having children, and so he was adopted by his parents, and once we settle down he is happy to do the same."
"Y-yes . . ." He wracked his brains for more arguments. "Have you given an answer?"
"Not yet, I told Mother I would think about it. But I have thought, and I think I might say yes."
No. Tell him. Tell him now. "W-wouldn't you rather marry a woman, and stay here?"
Kendall gave a little shrug, turning to face him and sighing. "I know my mother wants this future for me. If I leave the estate, my cousin Jett will become the next heir. He is quite a nice man too, he deserves it. And Lord Griffin's estate is such a beautiful place to live. And he does love me . . ."
"He said that?" To say that he was outraged was an understatement.
"Yes, in his letter. It's so hard to imagine, I've only met him a few times. But Mother says that if one is truly in love, they do not need to know the other person well to be sure of it."
Well, James knew that that was true. What he was also sure of was that Lord Griffin did not love Kendall. Although for all he knew, he was just being jealous and coming to conclusions. Perhaps the man really did love him. But to marry him and take him away forever . . .
"I've decided," Kendall said suddenly. He was breathing a little heavy, but his cheeks were flushed and he was smiling widely. "I'm going to say yes. I'll tell Mother in the morning."
James felt his heart grow heavy and cold in his chest. "I-I'm very pleased for you," he managed to get out with a polite smile. He held himself together until Kendall dismissed him for the night and retired to bed. James walked quickly down the corridor, up the stairs and to his bedroom. His roommate wasn't finished working yet, it seemed. He sat down on his bed, facing the wall. His hands clenched into fists as he began to weep. It was stupid, he knew. Even if Kendall didn't marry Lord Griffin, he would have eventually married someone else, probably a woman. James would never have him. But some nights, like tonight, the pain of that was too much to bear.
Lord Griffin was the Duke of Devonshire, a powerful man and owner of a wealthy estate in London. He was in his late forties, or at least that was how he looked to James. He watched him from a distance when he arrived at the house the following week. Their marriage was something people rarely saw, especially in their class of people, so instead of the church they were getting married in Kendall's own home in the morning. The celebrations would go on until evening, and then Kendall would spend one final night at home, before departing with his new husband the following morning, greeted by many of the townspeople on his way.
James helped Kendall get ready on the morning, dressing him in his wedding clothes and fixing his hair for him. If it was even possible, he looked more beautiful than ever. Even underneath the powder James could see the faint flush of his cheeks. His hands were trembling when he stood up and faced James. "Do I look presentable?" he asked weakly, hands wringing.
"You look wonderful," James replied just as weakly. "Really Kendall, you . . . you look stunning."
Kendall gave a little laugh, hand pressed to his hot cheek. "Thank you so much, James. You have no idea how nervous I am. My knees are shaking . . ."
"You'll be fine," James said gently, wanting to hug him so badly. Instead he just settled for patting his shoulder lightly and saying, "You must go down now, it's time. I'll be watching with the other servants."
"I will look out for your face," Kendall said sweetly, as they walked towards the door. "Hopefully I'll find some courage in it."
James strongly doubted that. He didn't have enough courage to fit in a teacup.
James watched from a distance with the others, watched Kendall walk up through the makeshift aisle while noblemen and women watched him join Lord Griffin and take his arm. As the ceremony wore on, he felt him slipping farther away. It was just coming up to the wedding vows that he could no longer bare to watch. He was supposed to pack anything Kendall wanted to take with him while the celebrations were going on; he retreated early and sprinted up the stairs to Kendall's bedroom, away from the applause, the music, the dancing.
He packed most of Kendall's clothes away, leaving some in the wardrobe as instructed for when he came back to visit his old home. Once or twice he stopped, pressing the silken fabric of the shirts to his cheek. He felt like a perverted little sneak, but they smelled just like him, sweet and fresh and he just couldn't help himself. He packed some of Kendall's possessions and made sure they were all arranged neatly in the trunks. After that he sat on Kendall's bed, listening to the sounds of the wedding celebrations. Before he could stop himself, he lay down on the soft mattress and gasped at how luxurious it was compared to his. He thought of lying with Kendall in this bed and his cheeks grew warm, his whole body flushing, heating up with longing.
He woke up with a start, realising that he must have fallen asleep on the bed. He looked towards the window, seeing that the curtains had been drawn. He frowned in confusion and looked to his other side, jumping out of his skin when he saw Kendall sitting on the chair by the vanity, face clean and hair loose. He smiled at James warmly, who panicked instantly and leaped off the bed. "I am so sorry Kendall," he babbled, hands raking back through his hair in distress as he paced back and forth. "I-I wasn't intending to fall asleep, I know it's not my place but I just lay down for a moment and—"
"James, don't fret! I'm not angry. I decided to let you sleep, though I thought about waking you because I still cannot get myself out of this wretched corset. Could you help me please?"
"Y-yes, of course." Kendall stood up and James helped him undress, before hurrying over and folding down the sheets as the blond put on his nightwear. "I apologise, again . . ."
"Please don't be sorry, I'm sure you needed the rest."
"Did you enjoy the celebrations?"
"Yes, I did. So many people congratulated me that I began to feel a little dizzy, it was all so overwhelming. But the ceremony was lovely, didn't you think?"
"Yes. Lovely."
"I want to ask you something, James. I know it's short notice, and I understand if you refuse . . ." He cleared his throat. "You know that tomorrow morning, I'm leaving to my new home. I'll be served by new staff there, and I'll be giving a new attendant. But, the truth is, I wondered if you would like to come with me, and continue to work for me there."
James perked up immediately, jaw dropping. "R-really, Kendall?"
"Yes." Rubbing his arms nervously, Kendall continued. "You've been so good to me. Lord Griffin is happy to offer you higher wages than what you receive here, but please don't feel that you have to accept. I understand that your life is here, you've grown up here. If it's not what you want, please tell me."
"No, no. Kendall, I would be honored to go with you. Truly, I would. I would love to go."
"Really?" Kendall's eyes lit up, and that was all James needed to confirm he'd made the right choice. "Oh, that's wonderful! Are you most certain?"
"Completely certain. I'll have my things ready by morning. I'll have to hand in my notice . . ."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll take care of it, you just focus on getting yourself ready. I'm so happy you're coming with me." Sitting on the bed and tucking his legs up, Kendall leaned against the pillows and bit his lip. "The truth is, it's not just that you're a good worker. You've also become a true friend to me, and honestly I feel quite frightened about leaving here, going to where I know almost no one . . . I know it's terribly childish to say, but I can't help it."
"It's not childish," James promised him, smiling as Kendall pulled the sheets back up to his waist, settling down into bed. "Not at all. And don't worry, you'll be okay. I'll come and get you ready in the morning, and the footmen will bring your things downstairs to the carriage."
"Thank you, James." Kendall grinned, eyes fluttering sleepily as he sunk lower into the pillows. "I always can count on you. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Kendall." It wasn't until after James left the room and shut the door behind him that he added in a whisper, "Sweet dreams." He felt it wouldn't be appropriate to say. Adding "I love you" would be even worse. He shook his head hoping to clear it, before retiring to his room. Moving quietly to let his roommate sleep, he packed most of his clothes and positions into his carrier bag. He changed his clothes and hopped into bed. He tried to calm his thoughts enough to let him fall asleep, but it was too difficult. He'd been so sure that the following morning would be the last time he ever saw Kendall, except for occasional visits to the house. But those wouldn't count for a whole lot; after spending the last four years speaking with him every day, going back to watching from a distance would be so hard to do. But now, now they could still be together. Kendall was afraid of his new home, he needed support, he needed James. The feeling was so exhilarating that it kept him wide awake for most of the night. Eventually he managed to relax enough to fall asleep.
To say that Kendall was nervous was an understatement.
Granted, arriving at his new home was wonderful. All around the coach the townspeople greeted him with adoring cheers, waving flags. The house was beautiful. Lord Griffin owned three gorgeous young whippets; Kendall managed to give one of them a quick stroke on the head before he was led up the steps and shown all around the mansion. It was large and luxurious, filled with beautiful furniture and paintings. The garden was magnificent and stretched for what seemed like ages, in ponds and streams and rolling green hills. He was totally in awe of it.
They were greeted by many noblemen and women when they all sat down to dinner; they were from the local area and wanted to meet him. He did his best to speak with all of them and try to appear lively, but when it came time for him to get ready for bed, he was only too happy to retire.
He told James all of this as the brunet hung up his coat and tucked his shoes away safely. He'd already cleaned his face and fixed his hair. "It sounds like you had a good day," James said at last, smiling at him.
"I did, I truly did," Kendall replied excitedly. "It was exhausting, of course, but all those people made me feel so important. I know I'm only his husband, but it still feels that way."
"I'm sure you will become very important to them," James told him kindly. "Just as Lady Jennifer is important to the people living on her land."
"Yes, I suppose . . ." Kendall looked up when he heard the door open, not expecting anyone to visit him at this hour. His breath quickened when he saw it was Lord Griffin, still dressed in his formal wear. "G-Good evening Arthur . . ." The name felt so strange and foreign on his tongue. It didn't seem to suit this stiff, mature, grey-haired man at all. Lord Griffin still seemed so much more fitting, even now when they were married.
"Good evening." The older man turned towards James, saying clearly and bluntly, "I can take it from here. You may go."
James glanced at Kendall, who swallowed and nodded in confirmation. James nodded, gave a little bow and replied obediently, "As you wish, Your Grace." He left the room, shutting the heavy door behind him.
Inside the room, Kendall's breathing became louder and sharper as he felt Lord Griffin's hands on his shoulders, moving down to his chest and beginning to open his shirt. "Why do you wear this?" he asked softly as he stripped it off, eying the corset around his torso. He turned and walked behind Kendall, beginning to tug at the strings. "It's strange."
"I-I've worn them since I was young," Kendall replied timidly. "Mother preferred that I did. I'm quite used to them now."
"They're very complicated," Lord Griffin said lightly, almost as if it were intended to be funny. The corset dropped to the floor. "Very difficult to remove."
Kendall smiled at his husband as he walked back around to face him. His hands were cold as they touched his waist, reaching for his belt. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to keep himself calm. He felt the rest of his clothes being stripped away, all slipping to the floor. He stood there in the centre, body hunched slightly. The room wasn't cold, but he couldn't help the shiver that ran through his body as Lord Griffin stepped back and stared at him for a moment. "You have a beautiful body," he said at last. "Very youthful." His eyes slipped up to Kendall's wide eyed gaze, before slowly moving back down, and up again. "Go to the bed," he added, finally giving him a smile. But it was the smallest smile he'd ever seen. "I will join you in a moment."
Shaking, Kendall did as he was asked, sitting down on the large plush bed and lying back against the pillows. His hands twitched as he stopped himself from covering up his body. Nobody had ever seen him, stared at him in this way. He watched Lord Griffin take his clothes off and drape them over a chair, before walking slowly over to him and getting on the bed, leaning over him. Their eyes met, and he leaned down and kissed Kendall. It was an unfamiliar feeling; Kendall found himself relaxing, letting out a blissful sigh and shutting his eyes. He dared to reach up and tug the older man's head back down to him, kissing him again gently. He gasped as he felt Lord Griffin take hold of his thighs, spread them, and push forward. He cried out, head falling back against the pillows. "Ohh . . ."
The weeks wore on. The summer days were long, and Kendall spent a lot of his time in the library or out in the gardens. James noticed that he and Lord Griffin mostly saw each other at mealtimes or at night. Some days they would walk about the gardens together, but it didn't happen very often and he often paid more attention to his dogs than to Kendall.
"I never thought I would say it was a wonderful change to spend the day with Mother," Kendall sighed, sitting on a garden stone bench, James seated beside him. "But it was such a breath of fresh air."
"Well, um." James cleared his throat, hands folded on his lap. "Lady Jennifer may be hard on you, but she is a kind woman, I'm sure she's pleasant company."
"Yes, of course." Kendall stood up, looking around. "Would you accompany me to my bedroom? I'd prefer to continue our conversation in private."
James nodded and got up quickly, walking with the blond back to the mansion. The sky was cloudy but it wasn't unpleasantly cold. There was a slight breeze blowing, but it didn't seem to bother Kendall at all, despite the fact that he was dressed quite lightly for the day. He walked briskly through the hallways and up the staircase, until finally he reached his bedroom and stepped back to let James walk in before him, following him in and shutting the door firmly. "I'm so glad we're alone," he exclaimed with a sigh, moving over to the sofa by the window and sitting down. He beckoned James over and the brunet sat shyly next to him. He too of course, was also happy when they were alone. "I didn't want people listening in on us, I can't stand the thought of it."
"What did you want to talk about?" James asked, turning to face him properly.
Kendall did the same, arms folded. But he smiled at James as he said weakly, "Oh, you don't want to hear about this, I shouldn't really say . . ."
"Kendall, you and I talk about many things. I like to listen to you. Aren't we friends?"
"Yes, of course we are. It just feels strange to say." Kendall cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. "Well, really I think that Mother was such good company for me this afternoon because I'm used to a much lower standard of company. He spends so much of this time with me, well . . . there." His cheeks were pink as he pointed in the direction of the bed. James' eyes fell on it, his hands clenching into fists immediately. "Oh," he said softly. "Well, I suppose that comes with marriage . . ."
"Yes, I understand that, of course I do, but I don't understand the urgency! Perhaps if I were a woman I would see the point in it, seeing as he would need me to produce an heir for him. But that clearly isn't his goal here, and yet when we are together in an intimate way . . . please forgive me for my brashness — it's as though he is ramming into me with such determination, always commenting on my appearance, my youth, and it's very flattering but I can't say I always enjoy the feeling I get from it." He sighed, leaning back against the back of the sofa. "Although I'm sure it would be better if he would talk to me more. But he never does, not properly."
"Well, then forgive me, I know it's not my place to say, but he is not behaving as a good husband should," James told him with slight anger in his voice. He couldn't help but let it show. "If someone wishes to marry you, they should treat you well. Anything else is unforgivable, at least in my eyes."
"I know James, but don't misunderstand me, he is not unkind. He just seems so emotionless, and so disinterested. I just wish we could find things to talk about . . ." Kendall looked so unhappy for a brief moment that James wanted nothing more than to hold him close in his arms for as long as it took to bring that smile back to his face, but the misery disappeared almost immediately, replaced by a blank, slightly amused expression. "But of course, I'm being foolish, aren't I? Many people don't converse with their husbands. I shouldn't think I am an exception."
"Kendall, I really think you should listen to what I am about to say. I don't want to dictate your life, but I feel that you should hear this." Taking a deep breath, and trying to gather some courage, James took one of Kendall's smaller, daintier hands in his and squeezed it, staring him right in the eyes. "Do not ever think that your feelings are invalid. If you feel unhappy, you should know that you're entitled to feel unhappy. Just because other people might tell you that you're wrong, that doesn't mean it's true. You see?"
"I do," Kendall whispered, ripping his hand from James' grasp. James was startled for a moment, and squeaked when Kendall lunged forward and hugged him, arms around his neck, almost on top of him. James hugged him back tightly, arms around his slim waist. When Kendall pulled back, James knew he had to let go. He had to force his arms back by his sides.
"Kendall," he spoke again shakily. "If you do feel ignored by Lord Griffin, why don't you leave the manor during the day? You can go out into town, greet the people, speak to them, things like that. They were all so excited when you came here, I'm sure they would love to meet you. Go meet other noblemen too who live in the area, make friends. That will help you to pass the time. You had plenty of friends back home."
"You're right, that's exactly what I should do! James, you're brilliant. Thank you so much. I have no idea what I would do if you weren't here." Kendall hugged the brunet again. "I'm sorry about all the hugging . . ."
"Don't be sorry. I like it." James' cheeks flushed and he noticed, startled, so did Kendall's. However, the blond cleared his throat and stood up. "I'm going to go make arrangements to leave the manor. I'll find one of the drivers to take me around, this town is still unfamiliar to me." He left the room. James gave a long sigh, slumping back and lying down on the sofa for a minute. He was still overcome with jealousy, with rage at what Lord Griffin was doing to his Kendall, and how he was neglecting him. It wasn't right nor fair. Kendall deserved much better.
He did begin leaving the estate during the day; not every day, only a few times a week, but James still missed seeing him around. But Kendall was visibly happier when he came home in the afternoons or evenings. He was always talking about some new families he'd met and spoken with, some children he'd chatted to, or housewives, the shops he'd visited, or speeches he'd made with politicians, or other noblemen. He was having a wonderful time meeting his people, and James just knew that they loved him too. How could they not?
Among his visits to other noblemen nearby, and the parties he began to host in Lord Griffin's manor, Kendall suddenly did meet somebody new, someone special. James could clearly see his excitement and joy as he spoke with her, unlike so many other guests that he interacted with only out of politeness. Kendall's new friend was named Lady Josephine Zevon; an interesting name, for an interesting woman. She was well-dressed with blonde hair done up in its extravagant updo, a few perfect curls hanging down over her shoulders. Her and Kendall walked all around the gardens together, talking and laughing the whole time. That night when he helped Kendall change his clothes, he asked him about her.
"Oh, she's wonderful," Kendall gushed, hands clasped together in excitement. "We discovered we were born on the same date, actually, but she is older than I am. Not much older. She's been married for seven years. Imagine, seven years! I haven't been married even six months yet. And she has two sons, Robert and Daniel, and a daughter named Charlotte. I'm going to visit her tomorrow and I shall meet them then, and perhaps her husband too. She really is magnificent company, James. Thank you so much for convincing me to do this."
"It's nothing, Kendall, I'm so pleased that you're happy," James said kindly, finishing putting his clothes away and watching Kendall move towards the bed. "I'll see you in the morning. What would you like to wear to Lady Josephine's?"
"Lady Jo," Kendall corrected before he could stop himself. He smiled awkwardly, cheeks flushing. "Sorry, it's her preferred name. I won't wear anything too extravagant, it's only a visit after all. Goodnight, James."
"Goodnight, Kendall," James replied with a warm smile, leaving the room and shutting the door. As he emerged into the hallway outside, he came face to face with Lord Griffin himself. Gulping and resisting the urge to spit on the man's shoes, he gave a slight bow. "Your Grace," he said humbly. "I was just leaving."
"Yes. Thank you." After James stepped aside, Lord Griffin walked inside the room, going to shut the door behind him. But right before he did, James got a glimpse of him staring right at where Kendall was, before saying softly, "Take those off, won't you?"
And the door shut. James stepped back, hand over his mouth as he gagged. This couldn't be happening . . .
Suddenly he heard the gasp, the panting, grunting and the groaning coming from inside the room. He knew they were doing this, for goodness' sake, Kendall had told him they were. Just hearing it actually happen, that was different. It was proof. He couldn't help feeling that it should be him in that bed. It should be him, making Kendall make those sounds. He had to hurry away from the door before he became too aroused, too angry, or just too heartbroken.
Kendall could hardly contain his excitement when he finally arrived at Lady Jo's home. It wasn't quite as large or extravagant as his, but beautiful nonetheless. Not that he minded at all. He was helped out of the carriage and hurried up the front steps to where she stood there, waiting for him. "Jo, good afternoon!" he greeted joyously, joining her outside the front door. "I know we only saw each other yesterday, but how are you?"
"I am well," Jo replied slightly hesitantly, leading him inside into the front hall. "Follow me, my children are waiting for us in the dining room, we were waiting for you before we had luncheon."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Am I late?" Kendall fretted, following her into the dining room.
"No, not at all! Children, come here." Three adorable children hurried over, dressed in their good clothes, all shy smiles and large eyes. "Children, this is Duke Kendall Griffin. And Kendall, these are my children. Robert, Daniel, and little Charlotte."
"It is wonderful to meet you all," Kendall said sweetly, smiling down at them. They all smiled back, giving little bows and replying, "Pleased to meet you."
"They're so sweet," Kendall whispered to Jo, who grinned at him and nodded. "Here, have a seat," she said, and they all sat down. "My husband should be joining us shortly, and then food will be served."
Kendall nodded, taking some time to look around the room. It was much smaller than the dining room at his home, but it was cosy and he had to say he liked it much more. He was taken aback when Jo's husband, Lord Dak Zevon suddenly entered the room. Jo stood up so quickly she almost stumbled, curtsying towards him. Kendall, alarmed, followed suit and gave a bow. "Your Grace," he said softly, Dak's blue eyes suddenly meeting his. He didn't really know what to think of the man. He was very handsome, and surely much younger than his husband. But there was something about him . . .
Dak returned his greeting with what felt like very forced politeness, and they were finally served their food. Kendall tucked into it and talked cheerily to Jo and her children. Dak remained silent for the most part, broodingly working through his meal, when suddenly he spoke up, "Kendall, I would like your opinion on something."
"Oh?" Kendall looked up, poised with his fork hovering above his plate. "Yes, of course. What is it?"
"Well, lately Jo has been taking part in all of these political affairs," Dak told him, a definite hint of disdain in his voice. "All these talks about who to vote for in the next election. I find it all very absurd, honestly, I feel that she has no part in it. What do you think about the subject?"
W-Well, I . . ." Kendall swallowed nervously, speaking clearly to the man. "I think she does have a place in discussing politics. After all, isn't it important to understand how this country works? I myself take part in political speeches and debates and I . . . I rather enjoy it. I find it all very interesting."
"Yes, yes, but you are a man," Dak retorted with an impatient wave of his hand, and a dismissive glance in Jo's direction. She looked down at her plate, squirming uncomfortably in her seat. "It is different for you."
"Forgive me, Your Grace, I may be a man, but when it comes to my role in Lord Griffin's house, it is very similar to the role of a wife," Kendall said steadily, although he could feel his confidence shrinking every second, with the way that man was looking at him. "I'm not ashamed of it. I think women should have an equal voice, and they should be allowed to engage in such affairs. England is their home too."
"I suppose you have a point." But it was clear that Dak didn't agree. His jaw was clenched as he picked up his fork again. Kendall did the same and began to eat again, slowly and a bit timidly. He could see that Jo's whole demeanour becoming quiet, sombre, and he felt terribly sorry for her. When lunch was over, the children ran off to play and Dak called Jo out into the hall to speak with her. He could hear their hushed voices and sat awkwardly at the table. The cluck struck two and he glanced at it, startled. Feeling that he should probably be going, and that he and Jo could spend more time together another day (when she came to his home instead) he went and opened the door of the dining room to let them both know. It was then that he saw Dak strike her, hard across the face with one hand. His other hand, holding a stick, beat her on her side, on her leg, on her neck. She covered her face, shaking and whimpering. Kendall jumped away from the open door, hand covering his mouth as he felt his food coming back up. He had never seen a man hit anyone before, let alone their own wife. And Jo . . . oh, Jo . . .
"It is not illegal for a man to beat his wife with a stick, if the width of the stick is less than the width of a thumb," Jo said softly, a tear falling and splashing into her tea. It had been five days, and this was the first time Kendall had managed to get Jo to come and see him. "Really, it is not the worst thing he can do, not the worst thing he has done, as of late."
"What could he do that is worse?" Kendall asked weakly, not wanting to hear the answer, but knowing that he must.
"Well." Jo sniffled, dabbing at her cheeks with a handkerchief. "He banished me from the house. He said I am a disgrace and an embarrassment to him. I've been staying in a guest house outside the estate, but that's not the worst part. He won't let me see my children."
"What?" Kendall gasped, slamming his fist down in indignation. "He can't do that! You birthed them!"
"The law is on his side, Kendall, you know it as much as I," Jo whispered miserably, head bowed in despair. "I don't know what to do. I have thought about finding someone, hiring them to abduct the children and bring them to me. But I haven't done it yet. Everything has just been so difficult . . ."
"I will help you Jo, I promise I will help you."
"Oh Kendall, you are so kind. But how could you ever help me?"
"Well, I don't know what to do about your children, but I'm sure we can come to a solution. Lord Griffin can help if necessary. For starters, I can free you a place to stay. Here, with us. We have plenty of space and I will make you feel most at home. You will want for nothing, I swear it."
With a weak cry, Jo stood up, hurried to him and hugged him close, and it was settled.
Jo settled in well to their home. Kendall did bring up the issue of Jo's children to his husband, who responded gruffly with, "Yes, I'll look into it and discuss it with her once I have. Don't you worry."
James observed the two of them together; admittedly, he was jealous that Kendall had found someone new to spend so much time with. But he could also notice the clear similarities between them, not only did they look alike, but it seemed that their personalities were similar as well. Almost every time he stumbled upon them, they were deep in conversation, or laughing. She was there for four weeks, and still did not have her children back. But she was no longer being beaten, and there was a definite change to her entire persona because of it.
However, the peace and happiness between them, it turned out, could not last.
Kendall came home one afternoon from giving a speech out in the town square. James was there to greet him at the door with the other footmen, taking his coat and his gloves and hat when he stepped inside the house. "Did you enjoy yourself, Kendall?" he asked as they walked up the stairs.
"Oh yes, it was very enjoyable! Hearing those cheers just really spurs me on. It gives me great confidence in myself." He gave a weak cough, clearing his throat. "Forgive me, will you go down to my room ahead of me and put my things away? I'll be right with you in just a moment."
James nodded, heading off down towards Kendall's bedroom in high spirits. He was just about to head in the door when, at the end of the hallway, he saw three maids gathered around another bedroom door, shushing each other and listening intently. He recognised it as Jo's room, but he couldn't understand why they were there. So he crept down the hallway towards them. "What's happening?" he whispered, startling them. They all turned and hushed him accusingly, turning back towards the door. James just stood with them; it took him a moment to hear it. But then all at once he did; loud moaning, whispers, and a loud sudden cry of pleasure. He knew both those voices very well by now. He felt sick to his stomach.
"What are you all doing outside Lady Josephine's bedroom?"
James and the maids jumped in fright at the question, turning to see Kendall. He'd spoken in a hard voice, so unlike him. But then suddenly, he heard it too. His eyes widened, lips parting. The maids, glancing at each other awkwardly, stepped back from the door. For another long, mortifying moment, they all just stood there and listened. Then finally Kendall, cheeks flushed and eyes wet with embarrassment, turned and stormed off down the hallway, retreating to his own bedroom and shutting the door loudly. James followed, walking in and shutting the door too. He quickly put Kendall's clothes away before finally turning towards Kendall. The blond was sitting on the sofa, arms folded around himself, hands clenching his arms. He stared straight ahead, jaw clenched. There were tears in his eyes. "I can't believe this," he whispered at last. "I just can't believe it."
"I'm so sorry, Kendall," James replied weakly, not knowing what else to say. He could sense that Kendall just wanted to sit there and think to himself, and so he did a bit of work in fixing Kendall's clothes up, just to pass the time.
The silence was funally broken when the door opened, and Lord Griffin walked in. James could see the slight flush on his cheeks that hadn't yet faded away. "Good afternoon, Kendall," he said briskly. "I heard that you had returned from the town, so why don't we—"
"No. I don't want to."
Griffin gaped at him, utterly gobsmacked.
"I know what you were doing," Kendall continued shakily, standing up and planting his feet firmly on the ground. He would not back down from this. James watched him apprehensively.
Lord Griffin glanced at him, puzzled. "Hmm?" The nonchalant expression on his face made James furious. But he had to stand where he was, and pretend to be invisible. He didn't want to leave without being dismissed, for fear of drawing unwanted attention to himself. As well as that, he did want to hear what they said to one another, even though he knew it was none of his business.
"You and Jo. You were in her bed." Kendall's tone was dripping with hurt, his eyes full of rage. His knees were trembling. "How could you?"
"I'm sorry?" Griffin repeated, sitting on the sofa. He wasn't denying a thing. Kendall paced back and forth impatiently.
"Why would you do such a thing?" he demanded. His eyes were full of tears. "There is no reason to! You're married to me."
"It is none of your concern," Lord Griffin said bluntly, coldly.
"None of my concern? How dare you?!" And suddenly Kendall was shouting.
"You, out," Lord Griffin said suddenly, pointing to James. Swallowing nervously, James nodded, bowed and hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. The maids who had been listening in on Jo and Lord Griffin earlier were standing out in the hallway. They must have been having a field day. Now unashamed, James stood beside them, listening. They could hear everything clearly.
"Why did you even choose me?" Kendall was asking, pleading. "Why did you marry me? I cannot give you an heir. Why would you choose me, if only to jump into bed with a woman, when it is a woman you should have married in the first place?"
"You are a very attractive young man, Kendall," Lord Griffin replied at last, in that same calm unfeeling tone. James and the maids gasped at his words. "And you have a name. A voice in politics, and among the people. I could not let a woman take you before I did, have you ruling your home estate when you could be here, on my arm." James was filled with rage as he listened intently. It was true, then. As he'd suspected all along; Kendall was nothing more than a prop to the man, a pretty picture to gain some popularity. He heard the clacking of heels on the floor and turned to see Jo walking towards them. She looked worn out, worried. James turned away again, not wanting to see her. But she too stood with them, listening at the door.
Then Kendall said exactly what James had been thinking. "You disgust me."
"Do not speak to me in that tone."
"I only speak the truth!" Kendall argued back. James had to admire his bravery; he really didn't think Kendall had it in him. "You marry me for my name, and then you throw yourself on my best friend! My best friend! You couldn't let me have her to myself, you had to ruin our relationship! What kind of man are you?!" There was a pause, probably because he had to take a breather. "I want her out of this house."
Jo's eyes filled with tears, and she stared at the floor in shame. "Don't be ridiculous," Lord Griffin snapped.
"I want her out, I will not stand for her living here! Not after what you've both done to me, you've both betrayed me!"
"Please calm down, you are being irrational. Jo has nowhere else to go, and she will remain here."
"And you will continue to sleep with her?" James heard Kendall laugh, but it was clear the blond found no humor in the situation. "And what if I were to bring a man home? What would you do then?"
"Do not speak of such things," Lord Griffin roared suddenly. James and the women jumped back from the door, taken aback by the sudden noise. James had never heard Lord Griffin raise his voice, it was terrifying. "You think I will allow you to become some whore, make me the laughing stock of the country? You will treat me with respect and loyalty and you will do as I say! Is that clear?"
"I am not afraid of you, Arthur!" Kendall shouted back. Then they all heard the slap, ringing out loud and clear. Jo whimpered, hand over her mouth. James felt a brief wave of sympathy for her, knowing she must be thinking of her own husband. But he was more concerned for Kendall right now.
The silence stretched out for a few seconds. Then Kendall's voice was heard again, cold, harsh, hurt. "You coward." There was a scuffle and a scraping sound; he thought it might be furniture moving on the floor. One of them must have been shoved. He hoped it was Lord Griffin, and that Kendall was holding his own.
But then he heard the sound of Kendall's voice ringing out again, angry and frightened and a little hysterical, "No, don't touch me! Get your hands off of me, don't touch me!" There was a sound of ripping fabric, grunting and a struggle and more protests. And then the screaming started.
"Oh, Kendall," James gasped. "No, this can't be happening, it can't . . ." Blinded with tears, he reached for the door handle when suddenly a hand reached out and quickly grabbed his wrist.
"Don't be foolish," Jo hissed at him. He could see that she was upset too, but nothing she felt could compare to how he was feeling. He'd never wanted to kill anybody more. He'd never wanted to scream and sob more in his life. "What good will you storming in there do? You'll be sacked, that's what will happen. It will not save him. He needs you to stay here."
"I can't let him do this," James wheezed, ashamed as a tear slid down his face. The maids retreated down the hallway, looking equally forlorn and afraid. "Not to Kendall . . ."
"I know, it's hard. But trust me on this one." Jo sniffled, biting her lip as she said, "There is nothing you can do."
There was still screaming, sobbing. Tears dropped down James' cheeks as he finally nodded in resignation, accepting Jo's words. He knew she was right; there was nothing he could do that would make Lord Griffin treat Kendall any better. He himself would only be punished, and nothing would come of it. He stepped away from the door, ignoring Jo's sympathetic reach for him as he walked speedily down the hallway, away from the bedroom. Around the corner, the screaming could still be heard. It echoed around the house. He sat in a chair stiffly and waited, forcing himself to listen. If he didn't, he would have no way of knowing when it was over. Footmen stood by the stairs, standing still and tall. He knew they could hear it too. One of them was gripping his staff extra tight, mouth trembling.
After what seemed like an eternity, the screaming stopped. James hurried back around the corner, expecting to hear the slam of a door and see Lord Griffin leaving the room. But the door was still shut. It must have still been going on . . .
Realising that Kendall must have given up, perhaps lost the will to scream, lost the drive to fight back, made it all the worse for him. But he had to just stand against the wall, hands over his face, and wait for it to be over. He would wait forever if he had to. The silence was so much harder to listen to.
Eventually, the door did open and James stood up much straighter, but also slipped into a darker corner of the hallway. Lord Griffin walked out of the room, fully dressed, and poised as ever. He walked down the hallway, right past James and paid no attention with him. James wanted so hard to tackle him to the floor and turn that cold face black and blue. But instead he listened as Lord Griffin caught up with his butler, promptly saying to him, "Please arrange with a driver that I wish to go visit some orphanages in the area this week. Perhaps on Friday. Kendall and I will find a son to adopt."
"Certainly, Your Grace." They both left, and James hurried out of his corner and down the hall to Kendall's bedroom. As he put his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated for a moment, terrified of what he might see. But he couldn't leave him alone.
So he took a deep breath and opened the door, walking in and shutting it quietly. He started to tremble, breath heaving when he saw Kendall lying sprawled on the bed. He was only wearing his shirt, and it was torn. He was lying on his back, hands clenching the sheets tightly. He was breathing heavily, expression unreadable. His face was red (one cheek much redder than the others) and streaked with tear tracks. As James stepped closer, he realised that the blond was shivering. So was he. "Kendall," he choked.
Kendall shut his eyes, turning on his side and curling up on the sheets. His face crumpled. His fists clenched and unclenched slowly in front of him. "I-I, I'll draw you a bath tonight, Kendall," James said weakly. "Before you go to bed. Would you like me to leave you alone now?"
Kendall whimpered, shaking his head and opening his eyes. A single tear slipped down his cheek, over his nose. "P-please stay." He crawled slowly up the bed and lay down, head on the pillows. James nodded, moving over and lying down next to him. He slowly reached out to give Kendall a comforting hug, but the blond quickly pushed his hands away. "N-no, don't touch me. Please." His voice was hoarse. "Just stay with me, until I fall asleep, I wish to sleep . . ."
"Of course, I'm sorry." James and Kendall just lay side by side, facing each other. The bed was wonderfully soft, and any other time James would've taken more time to enjoy not only that, but who he was lying in bed with. But now wasn't the time. Kendall shut his eyes, lips slightly parted. Even with his flushed, damp face, he was still so beautiful. James felt like the greatest sinner for thinking of that at a time like this, but he just couldn't help himself. He watched Kendall carefully until his breath slowed and evened out, and his body finally relaxed. He got up carefully so he wouldn't disturb him, and moved over to the trunk at the foot of the bed. He took out one of the spare blankets used for winter, shook it out, and carefully draped it over Kendall's body. He stepped back and to the door, leaving the room. As soon as he shut the doors he let out a sigh and left the hallway. Maybe later he could join the other servants for dinner and try to force it down. Right how he would just lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling.
Three days later, Kendall and Lord Griffin left in the morning in their carriage, off to visit orphanages in search of a son. They were gone the whole day, and so James spent it lingering around the gardens. He saw Jo at one point, sitting alone, just staring into space blankly. He did feel some sympathy for her, of course. But not much. When they returned home in the evening, James looked out the window and saw Lord Griffin step out of the carriage first, followed by Kendall. Then Kendall reached in and helped out a small boy, who didn't look to be more than four years old. He had curly dark hair and shuffled along beside Kendall, clinging to his hand. James hurried down towards the entrance hall, just in time to see the three of them walk inside, and Kendall reach down and pink the boy up in his arms, one hand underneath him to hold him steady. "Really, Kendall, his shoes are filthy, your clothes will be ruined," Lord Griffin said disapprovingly, as though the previous few days had never happened.
"I couldn't care less," Kendall said haughtily, walking past him and towards the staircase. "I will show Michael his room before we sit down to dinner." Kendall headed off with the boy in his arms, and James followed. Kendall disappeared into one of the empty bedrooms close to his, and James followed, knocking before entering.
"Kendall, you're back," he greeted, stepping into the room and giving a little bow. "Welcome home."
"Thank you," Kendall replied brightly; it was such a change to the dismal way he'd been acting since that argument occurred. "This is little Michael Griffin. He's four years old, he shall be five in about six weeks." He looked down at the boy. "Michael, this is my attendant and dear friend, James."
"A pleasure to meet you, sir," James said to the boy with a wink, giving a little bow. His cheeks flushed and he half hid behind Kendall's knees. "What made you choose him?" James asked Kendall softly, as Michael walked around to explore the room after a gentle push from Kendall.
"I just thought he was so sweet and polite. The mother of the orphanage told me that his mother died shortly after his birth, and that his father had long since abandoned her. I just couldn't leave him behind, and I convinced Arthur that we must take him home. I can't wait to get to know him."
"Is this big room really mine, Your Grace?" Michael suddenly asked timidly, sucking his thumb.
"Of course, Michael," Kendall said kindly, kneeling down to meet his gaze. "This room is yours, I will have toys and clothes brought for you, and soon, when you are much older, all of this estate will be yours. And please, call me Father, won't you?"
Michael nodded, smile widening slowly. "And w-what about the Duke?"
"Well, Hmm." Kendall cleared his throat, giving James an awkward glance before turning back to Michael. "I'm not quite sure if he will be quite so accepting of that title, but I'm sure he will be kind to you. Perhaps you should call him Your Grace." Michael nodded obediently and Kendall grinned. "Good. Now we will go down to dinner. Don't worry about your clothes, as I said you will be given more formal wear as soon as possible. And after dinner I will show you around the house before you go to bed. And remember, if you need anything, or if you have a question or you simply don't want to sleep in here alone, please come to me. I'm here to take care of you, as any parent would, and I'll be sure to do my best. Understand?"
Michael nodded again. Kendall nodded too and straightened up, taking the boy's hand again. "Let's go to the dining room, I'm starving." He turned to James. "I'll see you tonight, James. I must be getting on." The two left the room, and James did too. He could see how much the arrival of the child had perked Kendall up, and he hoped that would stay this way. He deserved happiness. And Michael did seem like a sweet child; they were well suited to one another.
Michael became well-accustomed to this new high class life, and was very popular among the townspeople. Often when Kendall went to do speeches or meet villagers, he would take the boy with him. However, he never went to visit another nobleman or woman after that, apart from returning home for a day to see his mother. What had happened with Jo had put him off that experience for good. Their affair was slowly draining his happiness away, and James hated that.
The news came quite suddenly, that Jo was carrying Lord Griffin's child. It was news that spread swiftly and quietly through the servants, and this was how James found out. He didn't hear either of them speaking about it out loud, or Kendall for that matter. He wondered if Kendall even knew. Surely he must have heard . . . but had they told him?
When he stumbled on Kendall weeping on his window seat, he realised that he must know. He stayed with him and comforted him until he managed to dry away his tears. Shortly after Kendall hurried away to see Michael, hoping that he would cheer him up. James could see that the child acted as a beacon of hope for him in this house. And because of this, James had to thank Lord Griffin. He was the one who insisted on the adoption so soon, after all. He had unwittingly brought Kendall a little more comfort, what he sorely needed. Yes, he had James, he knew that, but he was only ever a behind the scenes kind of helper. When it came to formal events, Kendall was alone, except for Michael. Jo seemed unhappy at the events, but she wasn't exactly an innocent party.
She came to visit Kendall in his room one day, knocking on the door before entering. Kendall stood up at the sound of the knock, but seeing it was her walking in, he scoffed and looked away, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really are unbelievable," he said mockingly. "Listen closely. I may not have the authority to remove you from my home, but surely I can order you to leave my room."
"I came to speak to you," Jo said timidly, hands clasped delicately in front of her. "If you will listen."
"I don't particularly wish to speak when you," Kendall said coldly, turning away from her. He didn't want her to see the tears in his eyes. "Not after what you have done to me."
"Please let me explain, Kendall . . ."
"I trusted you," Kendall whispered, suddenly choked up. "I took you in and made sure you were looked after." His voice rose suddenly as he turned and faced her. "I loved you!"
"And I love you, Kendall, I truly do!"
"You don't," Kendall seethed. "You only said you did. You took what was mine, if you truly did love me, you wouldn't do such things! Love is more than just words, Josephine."
He could tell that the use of her full name really stung her. She swallowed, eyes filled with tears and she pleaded, "Lord Griffin is one of the most powerful peers in England. He promised me that he would make sure my children were brought back to me. I couldn't refuse him. They are my children."
"You . . . he promised you that?" Kendall repeated doubtfully. It did seem like something he would say.
"Yes. And I know he can do it for me." Jo tentatively reached out and touched Kendall's hand. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. "There are no limits to what one goes through for their children. None whatsoever."
Kendall swallowed, biting his lip. "Any other time, I would tell you that there are limits," he said softly. "But when I think of Michael, I know that there are no limits to what I would do for him. And he is not even my flesh and blood. But he is my son. And I love him, I truly do. I know you must love your children more than anything else in this world . . ."
"I do," Jo nodded tearfully, holding his hands. "But you must know that I love you too. You are my closest friend, and I know I could not ask for a better one."
"And when your children return, will it end?" Kendall asked abruptly.
"I . . . I do not wish to anger him," was all she replied weakly. He knew what that meant.
Kendall tore his hands away slowly, a single tear dripping down his cheek as he said softly, "I do forgive you. But I wish to be alone at the moment . . . forgive me."
Jo nodded sadly, "Whenever you're ready, I hope we can be companions again . . ." She left the room, shutting the door behind her. Kendall gave a loud sigh and sat on the window seat, leaning against the glass and glancing down at the courtyard below. He had no idea how long he sat there for. He found that his eyes were suddenly far too dry; and just when he felt like some tears would do him the world of good.
The sun was setting when Michael walked in, approaching him with much more confidence than before and climbing up onto the seat beside him. "Father, there's a carriage coming in the gate," he said softly, pointing.
Kendall snapped out of his gaze, "Hmm?" and took another look, seeing that his son was right. Seating the boy on his lap, the two watched as the carriage pulled to a stop, and Lord Griffin and Jo moved out to the courtayrd. Lord Grifin gestured towards the carriage, just as a footman opened the door, and two boys and a little girl came tumbling out, running towards Jo and shrieking. She let out a wail and collapsed to her knees, hugging them all close and weeping.
"Who are they?" Michael asked Kendall softly, tapping him on the arm to bring him back to earth for the second time.
"They're Lady Jo's children," Kendall told him, watching the family reunion and feeling his heart skip a beat. "Robert, Daniel and Charlotte. I think they may be living with us for a while. Perhaps forever, I don't know."
"Shall I say hello?"
The question was so innocent that Kendall couldn't help smiling down at him, even though tears were gathering in his eyes again. "Yes, go make yourself known to them. I'm sure they'll be happy to play with you. Run along."
"Won't you come too?"
"I shall join you at dinner. I wish to rest."
Jo and his husband were down there, all standing together like a true family unit. He understood now that this affair would never be over. He would still be sitting through every meal with them both, not knowing who was the side piece and who wasn't. But at least Jo had her children back. They were better here than in the hands of their father. He supposed they really were quite alike, when it came to the husbands they had been burdened with. He held his head in his hands and tried to hold himself together.
"I have decided," Kendall announced at breakfast one morning. "I am going to go on a trip, for a few days."
There was silence for a few seconds. Then Lord Griffin asked briskly, "Where, exactly?"
"Out into one of the guest houses, in the countryside. I will leave tomorrow morning, and the carriage will return for me on Friday and bring me home."
"And how do you expect to get around without the carriage?"
"I will walk. It's a small village, no distance is far. I don't mind walking. I shall enjoy it."
"Well." Lord Griffin sighed. "If you must."
Later, when James was told about Kendall's trip, he couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. This meant that for five days, he would essentially have nothing to do. But more importantly, Kendall wouldn't be there to see, to talk to. Until Kendall casually said to him, "You'll come with me, won't you? Make sure you pack enough clothing."
"I-I, of course I'll come with you!" James said happily. "I would be delighted. I'll meet you outside in the morning."
"Wonderful." Kendall beamed at him. "I look forward to it."
And so did James, very much. The following morning, as he was told, he held his trunk with enough clothes for the five days, and helped a footman put it in the carriage. They did the same with Kendall's trunk, and the blond stepped inside the carriage, taking a seat. "Sit in here with me," he suggested, sitting back comfortably. "I don't see why you shouldn't."
Cheeks flushing, James nodded and sat across from him, and the footman shut the door. Soon they set off, out of the estate gates. James glanced out the window as they travelled through town, knowing what Kendall meant now as he spotted a few children running along beside it, waving in the window at them. Flustered, James waved back. Kendall laughed. "It's strange, isn't it? But it's nice." James nodded in agreement, leaning back against the back of the comfortable seat.
It took them almost two hours to reach the guest house, which was just on the outskirts of a little village, as Kendall had said. It was surrounded by rolling green hills, with fields filled with sheep, cattle and some horses. The house was much smaller than the manor, but larger than an ordinary cottage and very pretty, with a neat paved path leading up to the front door. The driver and his accompanying footman carried James and Kendall's trunks into the house, before stepping back outside. "Your Grace, are you sure you don't want the carriage to return before Friday?" the driver checked as he sat back up. "You'll be here with no help, you understand . . ."
"Don't worry, I do understand. That is precisely what I've been looking for." Kendall smiled sweetly, reaching into his coat pocket and slipping some coins into the two men' hands. "But thank you for the concern. I will see you on Friday."
"Thank you, Your Grace. Enjoy yourself." With little bows of their heads, the carriage rolled off down the road and into the distance.
Kendall breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the carriage had gone. "At last. Will you help me take the trunks upstairs?"
"Oh, K-Kendall, I can do it myself . . ."
"Please, James, let me help." Shutting the front door behind them, the two each grabbed a handle of Kendall's trunk and carried it up the stairs. They left it in the first bedroom, before going back and putting James' trunk in his bedroom. It was the largest bedroom he would ever sleep in. He was so tempted to just throw himself down and take a nap immediately. "I thought we could take a walk to the village before it gets dark," Kendall suggested to him. "I'm just going to go get ready. And don't worry about my clothes, I can manage."
"I'll wait for you downstairs," James nodded with a smile. When Kendall left the room, James did too and moved downstairs to explore the rest of the house. There was a small dining room, a kitchen, and a large sitting room with a fireplace. As he looked out the back window, he spotted the back lawn, stretching surprisingly far. There was a paved path leading along to a smaller house.
"What are you looking at?"
James jumped, turning around to see Kendall standing there. His eyes widened when he saw that the blond had left his hair loose again, and was wearing simple clothes almost identical to his. "You look . . . where did you get those clothes?"
"I had them bought for me," Kendall replied shyly, hand tugging at the end of his coat sleeve. "I wanted to fit in here, and not be a Duke. Do I look alright?"
"I think you look beautiful like that," James told him before he could stop himself. Kendall's cheeks flushed, and he smiled. Realising what he'd said, James cleared his throat, "Oh, I was looking out at that house in the back garden. Do you know what it is?"
"The staff live there, when nobody stays here they act as caretakers. When people are here they act as regular staff. I won't be giving them long hours, but I do need their help with some things, I can't do a thing on my own . . ." Sighing, Kendall shrugged and smiled again. "But no more of that. Let's go for a walk, shall we? I'm so looking forward to the fresh air."
The two left the house, moving along down the road, which was really just a dirt track. If Kendall had been in more formal company, James knew he probably would have been worried about his shoes getting dirty. But in these working class clothes, and out where he was finally free, the blond was just smiling, so happy he laughed a little as he took James' arm and tugged him down the road towards the village. James' cheeks were red the whole way. The two explored the shops around the village, greeting anyone they passed, none of which realised at all who Kendall was. Many of them probably didn't know what he looked like, so how would they? "Oh, this is so wonderful," Kendall exclaimed suddenly, sitting on a nearby stone wall fencing in a group of horses. "I feel so liberated here. Nobody can tell me how I should behave."
"That is how it should always be, you know," James told him, glancing behind him at the animals. They were so peaceful, it brought an even bigger smile to his face. "You are no slave. You needn't try so hard to please other people, when it makes you unhappy."
"I have always been this way," Kendall replied with a feeble shrug.
"I know. It's how you were brought up. But there is no need. It only gives people chance to hurt you. And you don't deserve it."
Kendall sighed, glancing up at James and smiling at him, green eyes shining. "I wish I could grow old here." A drop of rain landed on his cheek suddenly and he flinched, glancing up at the sky. "We must hurry back to the house before we get soaked," he said quickly, standing up and adjusting his cap. "Let's be off."
They walked back briskly to the house, managing to get inside just before the rain began to pour. The two sat and played cards in the dining room until dinner was served, and afterwards they went to sit in front of the fire in the drawing room. It was dark out, the only light coming from the fire. Occasionally one of the maids came in to fix the fire, always glancing at the both of them as she did. James' cheeks flushed every time her knowing eyes met his. For a while he could pretend that this was his regular day to day life; he and his husband Kendall living together in the countryside, where it was always peaceful. They were wealthy enough to be comfortable, and spent their evenings sitting together and talking. And they always had new things to say to each other, even though they had been together for so long.
But sadly, it eventually had to end. The fire died out and they both departed for bed. His bedroom was much more luxurious than what he was used to, despite the fact that it was only meant to be a simple guest room. He wasn't even used to sleeping alone; it was a little disconcerting. But only a little.
There was even a fireplace in his bedroom. The fire kept the room so warm and cosy, James felt like singing and twirling around as he changed into his nightclothes. The fire cast a warm glow over the room, so it was dimly lit, but enough that he could see well enough to get around. He was about to get into bed when he heard a sudden knock on the door. Frowning, puzzled, he straightened up and called, "Come in."
The door opened and Kendall walked in, dressed in his own more delicate nightclothes. His hands were clasped together and his cheeks were pink. "Kendall, is something wrong?" he asked, eyebrow raised in confusion.
"I-I . . ." Kendall walked closer to him, so close they didn't have to reach far to touch each other. He looked up into James' eyes, breath hitched. One of his hands reached up tentatively and rested on James' covered chest. James glanced down at it, and back up at Kendall's face, only to see it coming much closer to him. Then he kissed him. James gasped, at first entirely unsure of what to do. But he stopped thinking and wrapped his arms tight around Kendall's waist and pulled their bodies tight together. Still kissing him passionately, Kendall threw his arms around his neck, running them through his dark hair and letting out these breathless, desperate sounds that were driving him crazy. He fell back and suddenly he was lying sprawled on his bed and Kendall was on him and still kissing him, lips slipping down to his cheek, kissing down to his neck. "Kendall," James moaned weakly, shutting his eyes, hands tightly gripping his slim hips.
"I lost control of myself, I'm sorry," Kendall breathed against his lips. "I should go, let you sleep."
"Don't go." James held him tighter, gazing up at him, their noses bumping together. He had a strong feeling that he wouldn't be able to bear it if Kendall left him now. "And please, don't be sorry . . . you should never be sorry for this, ever." He let out a flustered laugh. "I know I'm not."
Kendall laughed too. "Well, I'm glad of that, I should hate to ruin things between us, even for something like this . . . a feeling like this." His hands cupped James' cheeks tenderly as he added, "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. This connection . . . I never want this to end."
"Then don't let it end," James murmured, leaning up and kissing him again. They kissed lazily, lovingly, before Kendall sat up slowly, knees folded on either side of James' waist. Hands on James's waist, he swallowed nervously, cheeks even darker than before, before reaching up to take off his clothes. Breathing harder, James stared at him intently, afraid to blink should he miss even a second of it. Kendall's skin was smooth, pale, so soft to touch as he let his hands slide up and explore the younger man's body. Kendall mewled softly, shutting his eyes and arching into his touch, before moving his hands to James' clothes, tugging at his shirt and giving him a pointed look. James grinned, managing to strip off his own clothes, wriggling a little, Kendall laughing softly and giving him space to move. Then James was grabbing him, rolling them, pressing down against him and kissing his neck. Kendall was groaning, breathing hard, wrapping himself around James' body.
And then between them, for hours into the night, there was nothing but sheer and utter bliss.
A thin ray of sunlight filtering through the curtains woke James up the next morning, shining right in on his face. He groaned, opening his eyes slowly and yawning. He felt the weight of a warm body resting on his and his cheeks flushed. He turned his head and smiled when he saw Kendall curled up against him, head on his chest, arms draped loose over his waist. He was snoring softly, eyelashes dark against his pale skin. James took hold of him and gently rolled him off onto the pillows, just lying there and facing him. What was pretty much his one dream of the last five years had finally come true. He wanted to stay like this forever. He could hardly believe this had happened. He wondered what would happen when Kendall finally awoke.
When he did, their eyes met instantly, and he smiled shyly, dimple showing in his cheek. "It's so wonderful," he said softly, "to wake up next to you."
James gave a nervous little squeak and Kendall laughed, leaning in closer and giving him an innocent little kiss. "I wasn't quite sure what you would say this morning," James said shakily, struggling to breathe as the feeling of Kendall's lips on his lingered, and the smell of his skin began to cloud his good sense. "I worried that you might regret it."
"I would never regret this. Never." Kendall rolled onto his stomach, hands folded beneath him. He rested his chin on his hands, giving a little sigh. "Of course, I'm not quite sure what came over me. I never would have had the confidence to do this before. But James, please forgive me if I am wrong, but from the way you have acted over the years, from when you have stayed and when you haven t . . . it had led me to believe that there are very little people in this world who care about me more than you do."
James blushed, giving a shy little nod. "I did not think you had noticed."
"Of course I had. But what could I do, really? In fact, before I married Lord Griffin, before I was even told of his proposal, I had what I could only describe as a crush on you. Well, perhaps a little stronger than a crush, but I knew it would be so inappropriate and improper to do anything about it, and so I kept it to myself. But I can see now that keeping feelings to myself, what good has it brought me?"
"Kendall, I have felt the same," James blurted out before he could stop himself. He had to tell him now, or the opportunity might never come up again. "Ever since that night after my mother died, and you came to speak to me in my bedroom, do you remember that?" When Kendall nodded, James continued nervously. "Ever since that night, I have loved you. I know it sounds mad, but I just knew. You were so kind to me, and you still are, I couldn't ask for anyone better to work for, or to love. It has always been you."
"Well." Kendall was trembling a little; his eyes were tearful as he smiled and said, "If only I had never been married. Not that it would make a difference for us . . ."
"I understand. If this can never happen again—"
"That is not what I said." Kendall sat up, James sitting up with him and listening carefully as Kendall smirked at him. "I see no reason that this cannot happen again. We could simply be secretive with how we go about things. We can't pretend my husband doesn't deserve it, I don't feel guilty at all. However, I do understand if you don't wish to be my . . . well, my man on the side, I suppose." His cheeks were red, but James knew this was the most daring he'd ever been and he felt so happy for him at that moment. And for himself, of course.
"As if I would refuse," he chuckled, kissing Kendall lovingly and tugging him into his arms. The two lay in each other's embrace for a while, lazily kissing each other's cheeks and lips and necks, before James murmured with their foreheads pressed together, "I love you."
"And I love you," Kendall replied softly, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. "Oh, James . . ."
"Yes?"
"Could we take a bath? I feel rather dirty at the moment."
James chuckled, nodded and scooped Kendall up into his arms, carrying the giggling blond off to the bathroom. The two bathed together, James lounging in the bath with Kendall nestled in between his legs, back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. It was yet another luxury he wasn't used to, and it made it all the better with who he was sharing it with. He left the bath with wrinkly fingers, but he smelled wonderful and felt on top of the world.
They didn't even get dressed when they were finished, they simply slipped back into James' bedroom and crawled back under the sheets. They cuddled close together and talked for hours, leaving and getting dressed to go have lunch, before going out for a walk and talking some more. Kendall had never been so open with him. That night they retired in Kendall's room, naked and pressed together on the soft bedding, bodies rolling together.
"Do you worry about what the servants here will think?" James asked breathlessly as he lay back, spent and blissfully happy. Kendall cuddled close to him, giving an innocent little smile and shaking his head. The light from the fire cast strange shadows over his face, angles sharper and more beautiful than ever.
"I'm not worried," he reassured him. "They have no reason to report back to the Duke. Why should they worry about it anyway?"
"That's true, nobody in the manor ever really reports a thing."
"Well, I know that. They prefer to listen outside bedroom doors." Kendall gave him a dark look, but chuckled when the brunet swallowed and looked nervous. "I've never felt so uncaring about all of that. You make it all go away, James. You make my pain go away."
"And you make me richer and happier than any man on earth," James said softly, leaning down and kissing him.
They spent the rest of the trip doing the same things over again. On Friday morning, Kendall packed up his trunk and dressed back in his high class clothes. They waited outside for the carriage to arrive. "I had a wonderful time," Kendall said to James, holding his hand. "I wish I didn't have to end. But I must say that I'm excited to see Michael again."
"I understand." James spotted the carriage approaching and slipped his hand from Kendall's grip. "So, when you said that you wanted this to continue . . ?"
"I meant what I said. Of course, we will have to keep it to ourselves. I have my own bedroom, we can use that to our advantage. When you come to help me with my clothes in the evening, days when Lord Griffin is gone from the estate . . ."
"It sounds perfect," James said dreamily as the carriage pulled up and the footman jumped down to help with the trunks. James helped him and then he and Kendall sat down inside the carriage, the door pushed shut behind them. The trip back seemed much shorter than the trip there; perhaps it was because James was dreading the time when they had to be secret about how they felt again. On the other hand, he'd been doing that for years now and being with Kendall, even in secret, was an even better outcome than he'd hoped.
Back in the house, Kendall greeted Lord Griffin stiffly, Jo with a polite nod of the head, and Michael with a big hug and kiss. "Did you enjoy your trip, Kendall?" Jo asked cheerfully as Kendall straightened up with Michael in his arms.
"I only wish I could go away more often," he said pointedly, giving James a brief smile. "Excuse me, I'm rather tired from the journey. Come on, Michael." He walked up the stairs and inside the front door. James picked up his trunk and hurried up the steps too. He returned to his room and unpacked his things. Then he just lay back and stared at the ceiling joyously. His wildest dreams had come true, essentially.
He and Kendall continued to meet in secret. Well, the meetings weren't so much secret, it was what they did that was a secret. On the days that Lord Griffin was gone from the house, because they were seldom Kendall set up Michael to spend the day with Jo's children, and he spent the day in his room with James. Often in his bed with him. "The elections for the new prime minister are beginning again," Kendall said casually to him, sitting up in bed with the newspaper in his hand. James lay beside him, the sheets pulled up enough to cover them decently. "I'll be meeting with some of the candidates for dinner soon enough, sort of listening to figure out which I'll support."
"Does your voice mean a lot to them?" James asked, hand supporting his chin as he gazed up at his lover.
"To some of them. It didn't matter at all before I came here, of course. But they like having the support of people with names of importance. And I do like speaking with them. Lord Griffin doesn't take much interest so I speak for both of us sometimes." He chuckled as he shut the newspaper and placed it on the nearby table. "It's very overwhelming. But I like feeling like I matter."
"You matter to me immensely," James aid softly, sitting up and tugging Kendall down on top of him, cupping the blond's cheeks and kissing him. "I wish I could lie here with you forever, love."
Kendall's cheeks flushed and he smiled bashfully, letting his fingers dance idly over James' cheek, down his neck to his chest. "I wish the same. I love you so much, my darling James."
"I love you more," James replied happily, arms tight should his waist. He heard a chime in the distance and sighed. "That's the clock, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's five o'clock. Everyone will be back soon, we have to get up." Kendall kneeled up and got out of bed, moving to get his clothes. James sat up too but didn't get up yet, just watching him shamelessly. Kendall turned around holding his trousers and caught sight of him staring. He scoffed, cheeks flushed as he turned away again to put them on. "Get dressed, will you?"
James gave a loud sigh and did as he asked, moving over to Kendall when they were both dressed and winding his arms around his waist. He kissed him quickly once or twice, before pulling back and saying softly, "Should I leave? I'll be back to get you ready for dinner."
"Yes, I'll see you then. Until then, I'll miss you." He gave the most adorable smile and squeezed James' hands. "Go now, before someone comes in."
James nodded, kissing Kendall's forehead before leaving the room. Walking down the hallway and fixing his hair as he walked, he suddenly came face to face with Lord Griffin. "Your Grace," he said quietly, bowing his head before moving on briskly. He could feel the older man's eyes burning into his back until he finally turned the corner. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. That man's gaze made him feel uncomfortable like none other did.
He returned to the servants' quarters and tried not to dwell on it too much.
Being with James made Kendall feel more alive than he ever had. He felt so rebellious and so daring when they were together. Perhaps because what they always did was breaking the rules in itself. But it was more than just breaking away from those constraints; he'd never been so in love. He'd never felt so valued in this life. The only time he could ever remember being so effortlessly content was when his father was alive. Now he finally felt whole again. He could lie there as Lord Griffin made love to him and these times, it didn't make him lose his will to go on. Because he knew that better was to come. Jo could have that bastard if she wanted, he didn't need him anymore. Or so he thought so.
Kendall spent one afternoon reading in his room, while Michael was playing with Robert and Daniel. Jo had invited him to go walking in the gardens with her; he wasn't avoiding spending time with her anymore, but he just preferred to be alone at that moment. The peace and solidarity was quite a comfort to him.
He heard a knock on the door and he stood up, closing book and putting it down. "Come in!" he called cheerfully, straightening his shirt and making sure his hair was okay. His smile dropped slightly when Lord Griffin walked in instead of James, like he'd been hoping. But he tried to hide it and gave a curt nod. "Good afternoon, Arthur."
"Good afternoon." For a few minutes there was silence. The man just looked around vaguely for a moment or two, mouth set in a hard line. Kendall watched him apprehensively.
"I wish to speak with you," Lord Griffin said at last. "On an important matter."
"I am listening," Kendall said briskly, hands clasped, waiting patiently.
"Your attendant. Diamond, was it? You have known him for an awfully long time, have you not?"
Kendall's heart dropped. "Y-yes, I have."
"Interesting. I suppose you too are rather . . . familiar, with one another."
"I will not give him up," Kendall blurted out. He couldn't bear the suspense; he knew exactly what this talk was going to be about now. "I won't do it."
"You see, I find that hard to believe." Lord Griffin paced the room, effectively barring the door. "And I am assuming from your reaction, that I was right about the relations between you."
"He loves me," Kendall said weakly, trying to stand tall. "And I love him."
"I do not doubt it. But I'm afraid I can't allow this to go on. I have to say I am relieved it was with a man of no name, otherwise it surely would have made the newspapers by now. But inevitably, eventually it will, and I cannot allow that."
"You have Jo!" Kendall snapped. "You have a lover, why can't I?"
"We have already discussed that it was an arranged agreement, that you yourself—"
"Do not dare blame me for what you have done," Kendall hissed, hands beginning to shake. "Don't do it, Arthur. I have found a man who treats me well."
"Oh, please." He scoffed, every word harsher than the last. "And what does he risk, being with you? He is a dirty servant, he has no status, nothing he has can be ruined by this relationship. You are the one putting things at risk and I will ensure that these risks are fulfilled if you don't do as I say. You are my husband, and you belong with me alone."
"I despise you," Kendall said shakily. "You cannot make me stop loving him."
"You're right about that. But let me tell you this, if your affair does not end, I will have him sent away. He will lose his job here, with no reference from me. I will do everything in my power to ensure that every house in the country is closed to him. He will have no money, no job, no home. He will die in poverty, in the dirt. Do you wish for him to suffer? Don't be selfish."
Kendall stared at him in disbelief.
"And you will never see Michael again."
"Y-you can't do that," Kendall choked, hands coming to cover his mouth. "You wouldn't . . ."
"That's where you're wrong. I will quite happily send him away. Perhaps until he is an adult, perhaps until I die and he inherits the estate, or perhaps forever, until I choose another child. Whatever happens to the boy, I can assure you that you will never spend another minute with him." Kendall's crying was the only sound that could be heard now in the room. "Now, if you do choose to do as I say, and end things with Diamond, he will no longer be your attendant. I will give him a job as a footman instead. I'm not so cruel as to fire him when you are being so obedient. Am I understood?"
There was silence for a moment. Then finally Kendall nodded slowly, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Yes," he whispered. "I will do it."
"Excellent. I'm glad we have come to an agreement." He stepped closer to Kendall, taking hold of his cheeks and tilting his head upwards. He kissed the blond slowly, not seeming to mind that he was unresponsive. Then he pulled away, and he left the room. As soon as the door shut, Kendall collapsed to his knees, ducking down until his forehead touched the floor. He fond he couldn't breathe properly; he just kept coughing out these angry tearless sobs and struggling to take in more air. But he couldn't live without Michael. He knew that.
It was with a heavy heart that he sent a footman to bring James to his room.
When James walked in, of course he suspected nothing. Until he saw Kendall sitting on the sofa, back stiff, arms folded neatly on his lap. He was poised with a blank expression, but James could see he had been crying. "Kendall?" he said cautiously, approaching him.
"James." Kendall took a deep breath, voice shaking just a little as he said emotionlessly, "Our affair is going to end."
"Y-you . . . what?" James gasped, feeling his heart shatter. "I don't understand."
"You will no longer be my attendant," Kendall said stiffly, turning his head away when James stepped closer to him. "You will work as a footman instead. We shall no longer converse or meet in private. I am married to Lord Griffin, and I must accept my responsibilities as such."
"Kendall, you can't say that!" James protested, taking a hold of the blond's hand and squeezing it, turning his head so they were facing each other, even though he wouldn't make eye contact with him. "I know you love me as I love you, I know it's just Lord Griffin putting words into your mouth, don't let him control you!"
Kendall's eyes finally unwillingly met his. They were full of tears. "I'm sorry," he said shakily, lip quivering. "But I must do what he wants, or he will take Michael away from me. Please know that I am only giving you up for him, not for my husband, and that it destroys my heart and soul to do so. But I have no choice."
"Kendall . . ." James wiped a tear carefully off the blond's cheek, not even noticing that he himself was in tears. To see someone he loved so miserable was unbearable.
"I'm sorry, James," Kendall murmured, pursing his lips together. "I would like you to leave now."
"Kendall—"
"Go, James." The words were harsh, the tone firm and cold. Kendall turned away towards the window, and wouldn't look at him again.
James just stood there helplessly for a moment. He wanted to say something else. But like that day outside Kendall's bedroom months ago, he realised with a grim hopelessness that there was nothing he could do. He let out a shaky breath and walked to the door, leaving the room and shutting it after him. Just like that, it was over. How could it be?
The next morning, he was called to the butler's office and appointed as a footman, by order of the Duke. He was given a very short training session by another footman, given his uniform, and then sent to his duties.
Being a footman wasn't difficult. For the majority of the time he just fetched drinks and served food. But it was nothing compared to his old post. This job was so impersonal, so detached. The days passed with ease, but during the nights as he lay in his bed with worn feet, all he could think about was what he had lost. And so until he eventually fell asleep, the nights passed painfully slowly.
Seeing Kendall in the distance again, after being so close to him for so long was harder than anything he'd had to deal with. It was harder than losing his mother, somehow. He'd thought nothing could ever really trump that pain, but it had happened. He wanted to take Kendall in his arms at every opportunity and swear his eternal love to him, wanted to whisk him away somewhere they both could be happy. And yet now he knew, that this could never be. They were doomed from the start.
One morning, Kendall left to go on a day trip with Michael. They bumped into each other in the courtyard, Kendall immediately looking down and squirming uncomfortably. "James, would you open the door for us?" he asked quietly. Michael, oblivious to all of this, smiled sweetly and waved up at him.
James waved back, before nodding and saying just as quietly and forlornly, "As you wish, Your Grace." He opened the door and watched Kendall quickly get into the carriage, lifting Michael in ahead of him. James shut the door and watched them disappear from view, sighing and stepping back. The driver, a young enough man with dark hair, tipped his cap towards James and then flicked the reigns, urging the horses onwards and the carriage out through the front gates. James watched them leave before sighing and going back inside the house to resume his duties.
His day was uneventful from morning to afternoon to evening. He was waiting anxiously for Kendall to come home, just so he could see him again even if from a distance. It was pathetic he knew, but he couldn't help himself. He was right back at square one, and worse off than he'd been before. He didn't know when Kendall was coming home, but he'd expected him to be home for dinner. However, when he entered the dining room to serve the food, only Lord Griffin, Jo and her children were there.
It came out of nowhere, when the young driver from that morning came stumbling into the dining room, hair and clothes damp, just as James was serving one of the main dishes to Jo and Griffin. "Y-Your Grace," he choked, leaning against the doorframe with shaky knees. Another footman ran to help him.
"Why have you interrupted our dinner, Duncan?" Lord Griffin snapped, glaring at him. "Unless this is urgent—"
"Your Grace, there was an accident, on the way back to London," the driver pleaded, walking closer to him. His eyes were filled with tears. James froze.
"An accident?" Lord Griffin repeated sharply, as Jo gasped and her hand clapped over her mouth.
"Yes," the driver murmured, head bowed in sorrow. "Another carriage coming against us, we were by the river and the horses were spooked, the carriage fell in, the doors burst open . . ." He was trembling as his hands raked back through his wet hair. "I tried to get them out, Your Grace, but the water was so strong and then I couldn't find them, they must have been carried away by the current . . ."
"My god," Jo whispered, whimpering as she began to cry. "N-no . . ."
"I'm so sorry," the man choked. "But I fear that they're gone, Your Grace. Both of them."
Jo let out a wail of despair, her children staring on in horror. James' head was spinning.
There were no bodies found. There was no real funeral, no burial. Just a small ceremony in the local church, where they said some prayers to bless Kendall and his son, and mourn their passing. It was too soon, too tragic. Kendall's mother sat in her chair and wept, dressed all in black. Jo sat beside the Duke, cradling Charlotte in her arms; the little girl was cuddling her close, trying to comfort her. There were tears in their eyes. Lord Griffin sat stiff and stared straight ahead, mouth pressed in a hard line.
The ceremony gave James a weak feeling of still being connected to Kendall. When it ended, it was so quick, and suddenly they had no connection anymore. He was just gone.
Every day was a chore. He found himself wasting away slowly as he worked emotionlessly. He forced himself to eat, and even then he could never finish his meals. He found it so hard to sleep, and when he did he often had nightmares. Some nights he just lay there and wept at what he had lost. He felt as though he'd lost his whole life. Why was he even bothering to keep going? There was nothing left for him.
When he served Jo, he always saw those bags under her eyes and knew that she was perhaps half as broken as he was. She walked around in a daze much of the time, only brought back to attention by her children or Lord Griffin. Her belly had grown significantly in size. James was sure it wouldn't be long before the baby was born.
Just over a month after Kendall's death, Jo married Lord Griffin. James was one of the footmen who stood outside the door as she waited to enter the room in her elaborate cream gown. "What about Kendall?" he asked suddenly, trying not to sound too harsh. He didn't want to ruin her day, but he couldn't let this lie. When he was in this much pain, he desperately needed to know if she still was too.
Jo turned to glance at him sadly, but addressed him with kind politeness as she always had. "Kendall wrote in his will," she said quietly, "that he wanted me to marry the Duke, and become the Duchess of Devonshire. So I would have a stable home for myself and my children, and away from my ex-husband."
"Do you love him?" James asked, hand moving to the handle of the door.
"I don't," she replied in an even softer voice, briefly glancing over her shoulder. She stood up straight again and cleared her throat. "But I will do what I have to. Open the doors."
Feeling pity for a woman he'd finally grown to like and understand, James did as she asked, stepped back and allowed her to walk through towards Lord Griffin, towards her new marriage. He hoped that she wouldn't suffer as much as Kendall had. But she seemed to be less naive coming into it than he had been. She would do what she had to to stay on his good side.
After their wedding, the two went off to France for a few days. It was the day after they returned home to their children, the day after their baby was born, that James finally snapped. Perhaps it was his grief getting to him, turning into anger that he could no longer suppress. He was serving tea to Lord Griffin in the library one afternoon. He was sitting there with one of his peers and they were discussing the new child, who turned out to be a girl. "Yes, it is rather inconvenient, as I hoped the child could be my new heir," he was grumbling as he saw James walk in with the tray. "But no matter, we will try for as long as it takes, mark my words."
And that was when it happened. James slammed the tray down on the table, speaking before he could stop himself. "You're a horrible man. You know that, don't you?"
"Excuse me?" Griffin snapped, gaping up at him. His eyes really were terrifying to gaze into. But he held his ground.
"Your husband and child died," James snarled. "They died. And you didn't even turn a hair, you couldn't care less, you would look for any excuse to move on with Jo!"
"How dare you speak to me that—"
"How dare you, treating him that way! He deserved ten times better than you." James stepped back, trying not to show that he was near tears. "And so does your new wife."
Lord Griffin stood up, taking a step towards him. Then he did the last thing James expected him to; he smiled. It was a cold, cruel smile, one that sent a weak shiver down his spine. "Young man," he said softly, much too close for comfort. "You could have tried harder to keep him if it meant so much. He chose me, at the end of the day. I'm sorry that fills you with such bitterness, but there you go. And now he's dead and gone, and you're alone. And you're fired. You may go pack your things and collect your final pay from the butler. Good day to you."
Knowing he had nothing else to say, James turned and left the room swiftly, making his way back to the servants' quarters and into his room. Once he did, he gave a small sob and covered his mouth with his hands, trying to steady his breathing. He could feel tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he managed to blink them away and straighten himself up again. And now on top of everything else, he didn't know where to go. Sure, he'd finally said what he wanted to say, but it certainly came as a price. He had no job and no home, and Lord Griffin was right; he was alone. He changed out of his uniform and left it folded neatly on the bed. Then he grabbed his trunk and began packing his clothes, taking his time so that they would be neat, but also to delay the process of leave his only home.
"James, wait."
James turned, holding one of his shirts, startled to see the driver from that fatal accident standing at the door. "Oh, Duncan . . ."
"I heard that you were leaving from another footman. I'm sorry . . ."
"It's alright," James sighed, putting the shirt in the trunk. "It was bound to happen some time."
"Before you leave, I have something I must give you," the man said softly, shutting the door and walking quickly over to him. "It's a letter." He took it out of his pocket and handed it over. James glanced down at it, opening the envelope and pulling out the paper. "From His Grace."
"Griffin?" James asked, glancing up at him.
"No . . . Kendall."
James' hands squeezed the paper, crumpling it. "W-what?"
"Lord Kendall gave it to me," the driver said quietly to him, hand on his shoulder. "He asked me not to give it to you until at least eight weeks after the accident. And I was going to do as he said, but now you're leaving so if you don't read it now, you never will."
"I-I don't understand . . ." There were tears gathering in his eyes as he shakily unfolded the paper.
"When you read it, I'm sure you will."
James looked down at the letter, letting out a muffled sob at the familiar, neat and curled handwriting. Taking a deep breath, he began to read the letter carefully.
My darling James,
Forgive me for what I'm sure I have put you through. But in order for my plan to work, everyone had to believe in my death, including you. I could not afford to make any mistakes, and the less people that knew, the better.
James, I know that I left you, that I hurt you because I couldn't bear to lose Michael, and you know I couldn't bear to lose you either. I have been thinking of an escape for weeks now, and it is finally ready. I'm sure the driver has told you that he was asked not to give you this letter until I had been gone for some time. I didn't want to arouse suspicion. Oh, and if you would, please burn this letter after reading it. I know it sounds rather dramatic, but I would prefer if nobody found it.
Do you remember the town you and I travelled to, where we first confessed our love? I'm sure you do. Go there. Then travel to the north, about five or six miles, and you will find another town. Very similar, actually, though I have to say that this one has a much nicer square. This is where I am. I am living in a cottage (they are quite small, but I find it very comfortable), if you cannot find it then ask around. My name is Kendall Schmidt. It's German; I came to England as a very young child with my parents, you see. My son Michael's mother died shortly after he was born, and I have been alone ever since. I am currently teaching children to read and write, and waiting for my partner to come join me. I hope you will join me here, James. I love you. Of course, only do all of this if you love me too, and if you will still have me. Do not come here otherwise; I shall take your absence as a no.
Kendall
James held the letter tightly in his hands, crumpling the paper. His hands trembled. "Is it true?" he choked, looking at the driver, tears building up. "He is alive and well?"
"Aye, it's true," he replied with a small smile. "We drove the carriage into the river. I freed the horses, had to give one of them a nick on the leg so they seemed to be in an accident. Pained me to do that, it did, but it healed. And I wanted to help His Grace get away. It was quite a clever plan, wasn't it?"
"Very clever," James said softly, putting the letter in his pocket. "I shall have to burn this. How will I get to him?"
"I cannot tell you for certain, but I believe that the nearer town supplies fruit and vegetables to London markets, perhaps you can hitch a ride back on one of the carts."
"I will do that. Thank you. For helping him escape, and for brining me this. It was very brave of you."
He flushed, but nodded, tipped his hat, and left the room. James began to pack his things much faster, shutting his trunk and picking it up, hurrying out of the room and down the stairs. He knocked on the door hastily of the burler's room, taking his final pay and his reference, before sprinting out of the house, out of the courtyard, out of the estate. When he finally stopped running, he began to laugh with his last breath, gazing up at the sky and just letting his joy wash over him. And finally, he headed towards the local food market, in the hopes of finding out about those carts.
He had to use some part of his savings to stay in an inn for the night. The next morning he moved out to one of the carts and spoke to the driver. He sat alongside the man once he'd finished his errands, and the two set off. "Are you sure you won't take anything for your help?" James asked again as they reached the outskirts of London, heading in the same route he and Kendall had weeks ago. "I really am grateful . . ."
"Don't worry, chap, I'm heading this direction anyway! It's nothing. You can tell me all about the Big House, that's my payment. You really worked for the Dukes of Devonshire?"
James told the stranger all about life in the Duke's home. He kept certain things to himself, of course; he told him that he had been Kendall's attendant for years. He told him of Griffin and Jo's relationship, the reasons for it, and the baby. Not that it was anything he was surprised by. He told him that it had been an immensely unhappy marriage, but gave no other reasons why. "It was a true tragedy, when poor Lord Kendall and his son died in that accident," the driver said at last in a forlorn voice as they neared the village. "My wife and daughter, they've met him a few times on visits to London. She followed all his speeches and movements, my Eliza did. She was in tears when she heard the news."
"It was very tragic," James agreed solemnly. He tried to think of that time when he did believe that Kendall was dead; it was much easier to keep a straight face that way. "But the house has moved on now, as you could tell, I'm sure."
"I could tell. Here we are!" He tugged on the reigns and stopped the cart. "This as far as I'll take you, I've work to be doing."
"Thank you very much," James grinned, tipping his cap and jumping down off the cart. He headed towards the North side of the village, gazing at the dirt road that lay before him. It would be a long walk, he knew that; but if he kept a good pace without tiring himself out too much, he would be fine. He would hopefully get there in an hour or two. Thankfully it wasn't hot out, so he could walk comfortably. He took in the scenery as he walked, though much of it was the same. Fields, cattle, stone walls. Some trees and houses. He even whistled a little as he walked.
It was afternoon when he finally reached the village. He hoped it was the right one, but he had followed Kendall's instructions exactly. He was passing a wide stream, stepping onto the little stone bridge he need only cross to reach the village. He could see some of the people about on their travels and reached into his pocket, taking out Kendall's letter. He unfolded it, taking one more glance over the writing. Then he leaned over the edge of the bridge and let go, letting it flutter into the flowing water. It was carried off downstream, James sure that the ink was already fading away. If anyone ever did find it now, it would be impossible to read. It was as good as burning it.
He crossed the bridge and walked into the village, looking around and taking it in. This would be his new home. Kendall was right, it did have a much nicer square. He stood in the middle, glancing around again, suddenly realising he knew nobody else here and had no idea where to go. But he remembered that he could ask someone for help, and so he did.
"Excuse me!" James called to a woman walking by with a basket of food. He hurried towards her and she tightened her shawl around her shoulders, looking curious but not unfriendly. "Hi, um." He coughed. "Forgive me, it was a long walk . . . I'm looking for Kendall Schmidt. Do you know where I can find him?"
"Oh, the German man? Yes, I believe he is still at school, I don't think the children are finished yet. It's that building there, with the clock."
"Thank you," James said, jogging down the road towards the school. Taking a deep breath, he walked inside the front door. It was a very small building, with one floor and a few rooms. He looked around, trying to figure out where to go and stepping closer to each door in turn. Suddenly he heard Kendall's voice, speaking loudly and clearly. He took a deep breath, hand on the handle. He hoped nobody would get in trouble for what he was about to do. He knocked on the door and opened it slowly, stepping inside.
Instantly all the children looked up from their desks, gaping at the exciting new visitor. Kendall's eyes widened, and his face lit up in the brightest smile James had ever seen. "Er, children," he announced, clearing his throat and steadying himself. "I'll be back in just a moment. Practice reading the pages we just covered until I get back." He hurried down to the door and stepped outside, James following him and shutting the door. Instantly Kendall was hugging him tightly, shaking as he kissed him before anyone could see. "You came," he whispered, eyes brimming with tears.
"Of course I did," James replied softly, grinning down at him. "Where else would I go? I love you."
"I love you more." Kendall sniffled, drying his eyes as he said more steadily, "I don't finish here for another half an hour. Perhaps you should go home and I'll meet you there."
"I will, just tell me where to go."
Kendall nodded, reaching into his pocket and handing James a key. "When you leave here, go right and you will eventually see a long line of cottages. Ours has a pile of firewood on the left side of the door, and there are some wild flowers in a tin inside the front window. Michael picked them for me."
"I'll see you soon," James grinned, putting the key away safely. "I was wondering, Kendall, should I change my name too?"
Kendall shrugged. "If you like. I see no reason why you should have to, I changed mine so nobody would know who I used to be. But you can still be James Diamond, surely."
"Then I will." James nodded, kissing Kendall one more time, more quickly this time. "Enjoy the rest of your day. I'll see you soon."
Kendall nodded, waving to him and disappearing back inside the classroom. James left the school and headed off in the direction Kendall had sent him. He kept an eye out for their cottage and when he spotted it, an overwhelming feeling washed over him that he couldn't quite describe. Perhaps it was relief, he mused as he headed up the path and unlocked the door with Kendall's key. Or a sense of belonging. After all, this was home now. A permanent home.
The place was quite small, as Kendall had said. He took some time to inspect every room, unable to help grinning to himself when he found the bed Kendall had been sleeping in. He'd be sharing this now. And he'd have no need to worry about getting caught this time.
James lit a fire and sat down in the chair by the fireplace, sitting back and shutting his eyes, letting out a happy sigh. So, this was his new home. He'd never lived in a house, not his own house. He'd never had his own kitchen, his own front door or garden. And he had the perfect person to share it with. He sat there and let his thoughts wander, until he heard the front door opening and turned to see Kendall and Michael walking in. "James!" Michael exclaimed in surprise, hurrying over to him and giving him a shy little hug. "Do you live here too?"
"I do now," James grinned, hugging him back. "So you're at school now, with other children! Do you like it?"
Michael nodded chirpily, turning back to Kendall. "Can I go play outside?"
"Of course, but don't go too far away. I'll be calling you in here for dinner soon enough." Michael ran off and Kendall turned back to smile at James, walking over and sitting down with him, legs draped over his lap, arm around his shoulders. James kissed him chastely and the blond said, "Do you like it?"
James knew what he was asking and nodded. "It's lovely. I'm sure we'll be very happy here."
"Well, I already was really happy here," Kendall chuckled, cuddling close to him. "You being here with me just makes me happier. This is the life I am made for."
"I wouldn't say that. You were quite the spokesperson."
"Perhaps. But that's the old me. Now I am only yours." Kendall kissed him again, hand cupping his cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too," James murmured softly, still partly unable to believe that they'd made it here. They'd started so far from this point, and yet somehow it had still happened. Even with all the bumps along the way. "Always."
Omg guys I'm not gonna lie, as I was proofreading and got towards the end I got a sudden idea and thought about redoing the whole ending, where James died in an actual cart accident and ever made it to the village...but I stuck with my happy ending and let kames be together :P if you're reading this author's note thanks, because that means you actually stuck through that five mile piece...love you guys! :)
