Almost two weeks went by and soon Francis was reasonably well again. The doctor had prescribed him some medication to keep the pain at bay, and he was healing. As he watched the doctor leave, Hindley then went to visit Francis to see how he was feeling. In the time he had been there recovering, he had visited him every day to make sure he was alright. They had talked about many things and got to know each other better, but Hindley always kept a safe distance from him, and didn't try to touch him or anything, even though Francis seemed to want to reach out to him. If he did on occasion manage to touch him, then Hindley would politely move his hand from his person. He liked the Frenchman, probably more than he ought to, but because he'd been brought up to believe such feelings were inherently wrong, he resisted as much as he could. Even so, he couldn't just stay away from him. They were friends, at least that was what he told himself.

Once again, he politely knocked on the door before entering and he was carrying some clothes. "Good morning Francis I do hope you are feeling well."

"Much better today…" he replied. Arthur Hindley had been his only visitor in this time, other than a few servants here and there who came in to light the fire or do a little cleaning. He was always glad to see him.

"I brought you something to wear and thought perhaps you would like a walk in the grounds…" Arthur Hindley said as he laid the suit on the bed. "Its one of my suits…but we look to be around the same size, though you are slightly broader around the shoulders. It shouldn't be a problem…" He said as Francis sat on the bed. He'd been able to take of his bandages and did feel a lot better.

"Thank you so much Arthur…" Francis replied. "A walk in the grounds sounds like a good idea, I haven't been able to get out of bed for a long time."

A pang of guilt hit Hindley as he spoke. After all it was his fault that Francis was in that state. If he hadn't been riding so fast maybe he would have seen him. "Ah… yes… but you are well on the road to recovery. The doctor has prescribed you a regular medication and is enthusiastic that you will be fine."

There was a silence for a few moments as they watched one another, as if one was going to say something but once again it went unsaid. Hindley bowed a little and made to leave the room. "I'll see you at the table. Mrs Bailey is preparing a full English breakfast, so I hope you are hungry.

Twenty minutes later Francis was washed and dressed, and he made his way down to the breakfast room where Hindley was already waiting for him, reading a newspaper and drinking his morning cup of tea. As he turned around he beheld the sight of Francis entering the room and caught his breath for he hadn't expected him to look quite so beautiful. He had seen him only in his bed clothes, and his hair a mess, but now he had washed his hair and it was tied up in a black ribbon. He was wearing Hindley's own suit that was only just too tight but not overly so. He was washed and clean and looking very well but for that barely visible cut on his head just under the hairline. Hindley felt his heart beat faster, but he tried to suppress any outward showing of this. "Oh, why is my heart pounding?" He thought to himself.

"Ah there you are old chap…" He said trying to dismiss how he was feeling at that point. Francis felt good to be up and about, and happy to see Arthur sitting there waiting for him. In fact, he felt rather good wearing his clothes. It was a rather comfortable dark grey tweed, and quite warm.

"Bonjour…" Francis replied with a big smile. "What do you think? It fits me rather well."

"It certainly does." Hindley replied. "Sit down Francis. Would you like a cup of tea by any chance?"

"Oui…, that would be lovely." He replied.

Everything was very polite on the surface and yet, the looks they exchanged said a lot more, their body language and the silences held more than any words they might have exchanged. Hindley couldn't stop himself from feeling that charge of emotion, and neither could Francis, even though he knew this wasn't his Arthur. He drank the tea and ate the full English breakfast and sat with Hindley in the breakfast room making small talk, but all the time he was imagining what it would be like to kiss him.

"Tell me… about your friend Arthur." Hindley said as he drank his tea. "What is he like?"

Francis thought about it for a moment. He was so confused, because Hindley was so like him, so much that there was hardly any difference, except for maybe his personality.

"My Arthur may be slightly mad…" He replied quietly. "But a genius, with an incredible mind." He continued "You are very like him. You have the same eyes, the same hair, the same build, and you even move like him. You even have the same eyebrows and… your voice is just… the same…" he said and paused, truly missing his Arthur in that moment. "But your personalities are quite different."

"In what way?" Hindley asked, interested.

"My Arthur is passionate, and loves his work, probably more than he loved me…" Francis replied. "But you… you are a musician, you have great talent, I hear you play every night and it has helped me recover. My Arthur can't play an instrument, but he can build amazing things and is a great mathematician."

Hindley leant on the table with his hand curled under his chin, listening to him. "Were you…in a relationship with him?" He asked curiously, watching the Frenchman's reaction.

Francis looked distant for a moment, and so sad that he could have cried there and then. His eyes went a little out of focus and he couldn't actually answer that question.

"Forgive me." Hindley replied. "That was unfair of me." He uttered. "Let's um… go out for that walk in the grounds I promised you."

Francis took a moment to recover before answering. "Oui.. that would be a good thing… it is a beautiful day non?"

It was indeed a beautiful day, and the sun was shining. Hindley showed Francis around the grounds and out to the front of the mansion where there was a view for miles around of endless countryside and fields.

"In my time there were more buildings and hardly any fields." Francis said as he beheld the spectacular view.

"I expect a lot happened between now and then?" Hindley questioned him. "Anything we need to worry about?"

"Well… there is quite a lot to worry about." Francis replied "In 1914 the world will erupt in war, that will last till 1918 and then again 1939 till 1945.

"Two World Wars?" Gasped Hindley. "Surely not… I mean… the entire world at war?"

"It may seem unbelievable to you now Arthur, but I assure you, the future is like this. War, and lots of it."

Hindley seemed worried about that for a while as they walked around. "Well, my family have been in many wars but never a world war… it sounds exciting… and maybe a little terrifying."

"There's nothing great about the world wars." Francis replied. "I fought alongside Arthur and…" he said but stopped as he found it hard to speak of Arthur, knowing that he could never see him again. They walked around and stopped at the little summerhouse at the back of the mansion. "This was built when I took over the mansion. What do you think? Do you like it?" Hindley asked. "I designed it myself… had it built… the acoustics inside are phenomenal."

Francis didn't say a word, he just leant on one of the pillars, looking out to a small pond full of water flowers outside of the summerhouse. He recalled that pond wasn't there in the future and the summerhouse was falling apart, but here in this time it was an incredibly beautiful place. He leaned against one of the pillars and closed his eyes, and Hindley watched, not sure what to say or do. It seemed he couldn't make things better for Francis no matter what he said or did.

Francis was overcome as he leant there thinking about Arthur and his current situation. The reality of it all hit him like a brick. He sort of turned away into the pillar and let out a deep sob and cried softly. Once again feeling slightly awkward Hindley reached out and placed a hand on his back gently. "Come now…old chap…" He began. "You…you'll see him again… "

Francis turned to him with red eyes, his face all puffy from crying and looked at him desperately. Hindley paused, afraid of this feeling and yet so wanting to say or do something. He reached out to Francis and sort of caught him in his arms. "Je suis desole" Francis sobbed "You look so like him, and you talk like him… and you can't not be… " he uttered. Hindley didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing, but then out of the blue he felt the Frenchman's lips on his, and he was kissing him.

Alarmed at first, Hindley's first instinct was to push him away, and of course he tried to but the feeling was too strong and instead he ended up kissing him back. This was not like kissing a woman, this was so different. It was more exciting, it was thrilling. His lips were stronger, and yet so soft. The kiss deepened, charged with emotion, as Francis held him, pulling him in closer, he placed his hand upon his backside and just kept kissing. As each pulled back, Francis looked at Arthur Hindley, who was finding it hard to breathe, giving little shallow gasps, as he was quite overwhelmed.

"I kissed you…" Hindley uttered sounding alarmed and panicky. "Oh my God…"

Francis nodded, gazing intently into his eyes. "I have wanted to do that for a long time…" He said. "I… I'm sorry… Je suis desole…" He uttered. "I could not stop myself…"

Hindley was still breathing erratically. The Frenchman had nothing to be sorry about, it was the most thrilling moment of his entire life up until that point. A moment later it was Hindley who kissed Francis back, cupping his cheek with his hand he pressed his lips against his, and then they melted into a deep French kiss, and he didn't want to stop. "Fuck…" He gasped as he kissed him over and over. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen…" he uttered in breathy whispers, "I can't leave you alone… I won't.. " he moaned as he pushed him back against the pillar.