A few days later,
Richard let out a frustrated huff and slumped back into his office chair. The search for Sebastian was in progress, but none of the telephone calls Richard made to potential sources of information about Sebastian's location yielded any results. He didn't know many of Sebastian's contacts, but he knew some of Larry's, but even his butler did not know where Sebastian was, he was only able to inform Richard that the house Sebastian owned on the outskirts of Larry's country estate had been vacant ever since the night of Larry's foolish actions at a party. They were running out of options, and now Richard had his hopes on a letter he'd sent after his talk with Thomas.
"What do you think Wilde?" Richard asked the cat who'd – despite his and Chris's best efforts – insisted on making a cat bed in a tray of papers and letters on the shop office desk.
Wilde blinked and resumed grooming himself with one paw behind his ear.
Richard was on the verge of taking a break and returning to help Chris in the shop when the unexpected ring of the telephone startled him, causing him to jump and hastily grab the receiver. "Izzie, you got my letter?"
A chuckle filled the line. "Richard, you are too eager. How did you even know I was calling? You answered quickly. You weren't sitting waiting by the telephone, were you?"
"I'm in the shop office, been calling here, there and everywhere all morning. I guessed – or rather hoped – it was you."
"I got your letter and I should say I'm hardly surprised. Larry is – how to put it kindly – not the wisest of men, and a combination of a flirtatious nature and a love of expensive things was bound to have consequences, eventually. I'm only glad he never went all the way with the person in question – I mean over an aeroplane – really?"
"I know he was stupid, but we feel for him Izzie, he's trying his hardest and I've seen a change in him over the past weeks. He's won people's hearts around here, and not through his usual charisma. He's been working for nothing, helped Chris out and—"
"Alright, alright Richard, you don't need to convince me that Larry deserves our help. I know I wasn't approving of him for a long time, but I changed my mind on that after what he did for you with the hospital, not to mention all those undercover moments of generosity that he asks no praise for." Izzie was being careful with her words. Richard guessed she was referring to the regular funding of a secret club that their friends Joanne Simpson and Jimmy Kent ran in London for people like them to have a safe as possible place to be themselves. Conversations by telephone were never – unless you were rich or important enough to use a secure line – truly private. The operator in the background could hear their every word, which was why Richard wrote to Izzie with the details.
"Will you help then?"
"I would be less of a person if I refused, my dear. We all make mistakes, and if there is a path to reconcile, then why not try it out? Especially for a love like that – they just need to talk to each other and McDonald needs to see Larry's efforts to change with their own eyes. I am confident that if we can intervene in that part, then the rest will figure itself out in time. Besides, I love a little detective work! This country may have taken its time to appoint its first female police detective, and still we only have one, but no snobbery on their part can stop me from investigating mysteries myself!"
A smile of affection formed on Richard's lips in response to her words. Izzie was a formidable woman who refused to let anyone undermine her worth, never considering herself any less capable than a man.
"No matter. I have already made a start." A crackled silence followed by a rustling of papers in the background. "I'll need to look further into it to be sure, but I think they are still in the country. I passed by the town house in Mayfair, spoke to a servant who was most helpful in telling me of an establishment they both frequent. Seems McDonald was a visitor only a couple of days ago. Oh, and Richard, this is not the sort of establishment you might be thinking of – I'd best say no more at present."
Richard reckoned Izzie meant a gentleman's club where members of the nobility or government spent their time, not the sort of place he or Thomas might find in a rundown part of London. He didn't press Izzie for more. "So you're confident they've not left the country?"
"Not yet. Ships sail every day, but it gives me a better chance. If McDonald was to leave, then it would be through Liverpool or Southampton and since they live in the north, I'd say the former is most likely. I'll get onto looking at passenger lists from ships that sailed in the past few days and one's due to sail soon."
Richard gawped. "How can you access that sort of information?"
"Ah! You see, my friend, I have contacts. I confess when I got your letter I was quietly confident I'd get you an answer. I've done some investigative journalism recently that involved a case of fraud in the border and customs office at Liverpool. My work cleared the name of a group of people wrongly accused of a serious case of fraud. If it weren't for me, they'd be serving a lengthy jail term by now. I think I can use their gratitude as a way in."
Richard could imagine Izzie's confidently smug expression on the other end of the line. "Thank you, just do nothing that puts you at risk. It isn't worth that."
"You leave it with me."
"Izzie," Richard repeated.
"I'll be careful."
"Thank you. If you find who we're looking for, how would you get him to come here? It might take some persuasion."
"Oh, I have a plan there too and I hope I find him as I have a feeling I'll enjoy it immensely! As for you, Richard, keep Larry sober and in Downton. If he does something stupid and runs off, then we'd be chasing them both over England."
"We'll try our best. Matthew Tomlinson, the farmer Larry is working for, is keeping a watchful eye."
"Good to hear. I'll keep you updated and hopefully we'll resolve this mess and get the normal irritatingly charming Larry back."
Richard sniggered. "A small price to pay. I'll let Thomas know what's going on."
"Best to keep it secret from Larry, though. The worst thing for him would be to raise his hopes for nothing."
Richard nodded. "That's best." It was not a favourite method of his to go behind his old friend's back – he hated it when Thomas did that for him. It felt like a betrayal – but Larry was growing ever more fragile. He reckoned only hope, and a continuous list of tasks at the farm was keeping him from falling over the edge again.
After the call, the small office filled with the gentle sound of Wilde's snoring, while Chris engaged in a conversation with a customer in the shop, breaking the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Richard rubbed his chin in thought. If Izzie's hunch about Liverpool was correct, they might just catch Sebastian in time. If not – and they'd run out of places an American entrepreneur might be in England alone – Sebastian may have already sailed abroad. Richard doubted even Izzie would find him then.
...
The scent of lavender hung in the air in David's bedroom. Chris turned over, stretching out an arm towards David, groggy from being half-asleep and still riding the euphoria of their passionate lovemaking earlier that evening. The bed was cold. In his confusion, Chris fumbled around, finding the lamp next to the bed. He squinted at the clock. It was two in the morning and David was nowhere to be seen.
The floor no longer held David's clothes that had been scattered, but Chris's clothes remained. Chris ran a hand over his bare leg, back and forth to bring it back to life after growing stiff in the chilly night air. He lifted his hand to his nose and breathed in the scent of lavender oil. That particular ingredient had become a regular favourite between them. Chris had discovered the combination of the soothing texture of the oil and David's skilled hands had been a near miracle cure for easing his painful joints in his bad leg. David's touch had always soothed him, but there were many other uses for oil and skilled hands.
After an evening meal with Matthew, Larry, Emily and Alfie in the cosy farm kitchen, David and he had retreated to David's annex. The moment they entered, David pounced on him, pressing him against the wall at the foot of the stairs. With hunger in his eyes, his hands explored every inch of him, while wet and insistent kisses devoured his lips. David's pursuit hadn't come as a surprise – even over the table in the farm kitchen, David had been eyeing him all evening. They'd loosened coats, braces and ties, lost shoes and by the time they'd tumbled into bed – everything else. They had a relatively equal relationship in terms of dominance, but Chris liked David taking control. He'd worked Chris's leg, soothing lavender oil up and down – further than necessary for only medical comfort – interchanging hands with kisses, loosening Chris's muscles, eliminating pain, and making him more flexible in the process. And when David buried himself deep inside him, after some playful jostling for position, Chris discovered that all his years' worth of aches vanished, his knees bent, and his heels held David close – surrounded by the heavenly scent of lavender.
A soft yellow glow radiated up the stairs beyond the bedroom door. Chris found a dressing gown – not bothering with anything else, save a pair of slippers – and crept downstairs to investigate. He picked up his tie to prevent it tripping either of them up and hung it on the stair rail. The light came from the small living room and kitchen beyond. Chris let out a small gasp as he saw the reason for his empty bed.
David sat by the fire, fully stoked up despite the night hour, cradling a small white lamb against his padded and worn-looking olive green coat. Chris pushed the door open a fraction, but even the creaking on its hinges didn't cause David to look up or take his eyes off the small animal. Chris found himself unable to move, rooted to the spot over the sight before him. Then David spoke.
"He'll be wondering where I got to, but I bet even he'd not appreciate you in the bedroom. It's nothing personal, little one, only that he's a city boy – well, sort of. I don't know. Maybe he's been in the wrong place for most of his life and he actually belongs here with me in this little place in a little village. Either way, as much as I would be happy to bundle you up in a duvet, he's not good at sharing."
Chris bit his lip so his chuckle didn't escape him and ruin the moment. He rolled his eyes. City boy indeed – says the man who ran away to Liverpool.
"You should drink, though. I know you're sad, but it's not your fault. Your mother could only take care of two, but you will not be abandoned. We'll look after you, but you need to drink." David squeezed the teat of the small bottle he held, leaking some of the contents onto his finger and letting the lamb taste it. After some cautious licks, the lamb sucked David's finger eagerly, causing David to let out a sweet laugh. "Nice isn't it? Now'—David replaced his finger with the bottle the lamb latching on—'here we go. Drink up, and you can have more in a couple of hours. Chris would want to see you grow strong. He's the loveliest of men, tender – even if he tries not to show it sometimes and I love him, so you see I can't make him sad. He'd be happy to know you were eager to live."
Chris couldn't take it anymore. "I would."
David gave a start. "How long have you been watching?"
"Long enough to know that the reason for you leaving me with half a cold bed was a fine enough reason. You didn't tell me you were on sheep duty."
"I was going to but after earlier"—David blushed—"I must have drifted off. Woke to find Matthew at the bedroom door."
"What? He was inside? He saw – I was, we were..."
David chuckled and beckoned him over with a tilt of his head. "You had a sheet over everything that mattered. He was most apologetic, and rather embarrassed, but we agreed to swap halfway through the night. Sheep are not covenant animals: they give birth at any hour and require help more than other species. Matthew said he'd manage without me, but I felt bad going back on a promise. Anyway, this little one's mother had three and only had room to nurse two."
Chris sat on the arm of the chair, David on the floor as close to the warmth of the fire as possible. "I thought you passed them onto another mother?"
"Ideally, but most had two already and even the ewe who had only one, didn't accept it, despite my best efforts. Matthew may have been more successful. This is a whole new experience for me."
"Isn't it a lot of effort, though? I mean, they aren't pets."
David craned his neck to look up at him. "Look at this little creature and tell me you'd not try everything."
"I know." Chris stroked David's hair, then tentatively brushed one finger of the lamb's ear as it finished the bottle and began searching David's pockets for more. "I know how it feels to be abandoned by family. It sucks," he said, to appear unphased.
"Helen came around. Maybe the rest will in time?"
Chris shook his head. "I don't want to push my luck. Four other siblings and my parents..." He didn't know how to finish that sentence. "Do you need to stay with it?"
"No, not now. It's warm and drinking, but all the same, I don't want to leave it alone."
"I agree with you in saying earlier that I wouldn't be welcome to sharing our bed with a lamb, but you could bring it upstairs with us or if it still needs the fire, I could fetch some blankets and set us up down here tonight?"
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Well, obviously my leg would prefer a mattress, but I'm sure you can sort that for me tomorrow?" Chris asked in a suggestive tone.
"Seems fair."
Several minutes later, after Chris had gathered several blankets, pillows as well as an old jumper of David's for the lamb he wouldn't miss, they settled into a makeshift bed on the floor of the living room. The lamb fell asleep in its own nest of towels and jumpers, peaceful at last. Chris welcomed David into his arms – after David had washed the smell of formula milk off him.
"I never got to fill you in on what Richard told me today," Chris said, feeling sleep call him again. "He spoke to Izzie, and it seems she is going to be our detective in finding Sebastian and bringing him here."
"Good to hear, and she'd enjoy that," David murmured, his face half in two pillows. "Matthew is monitoring Larry, making sure he doesn't end up in the pub again."
"Larry and I, you and Thomas also, we're all a little like the newborn lamb, or at least we were. Abandoned, lost, then cared for."
"Except Larry's family didn't abandon him."
"In a way, he was. Sebastian is his only family. His mother is dead, and he's never spoken about his father."
David planted a kiss on Chris's nose. "You're quite the softy."
"I am, so long as it stays between us," Chris half-joked.
"Always. And we'll see Larry right." David nuzzled down into the blankets, head against Chris' chest. With closed eyes and a sleepy smile, he spoke again, "Don't tell Larry you think he and a lamb have similarities."
Next: a shorter chapter involving Thomas and Larry.