Josh nodded. “See you later, then?”
Luncheon was freeform and casual, a light spread of bread, cold cuts and cheeses—and most appreciated, coffee. West had been busy for the last three hours, and while Josh had enjoyed walking the grounds, and the needlework lesson, something about it had felt . . . lonely. He’d looked forward to a little brush with company to go with his sliced beef and cheddar, but when Professor Paisley excused herself from the table, he found himself with no buffer against Cassius and Wally.
He invested his attention wholeheartedly in selecting fruit for his plate and hoped rescue would materialize.
With relief, he saw West coming into the room surrounded by guests of another party. But they dragged him, laughing and giggling, to their end of the table. Dread crept through Josh as he fought not to look at Cassius’s expression. It didn’t take long.
“Your fiancé didn’t so much as glance at you,” Cassius said, popping a grape into his mouth.
Josh heated. “It’s a game. Amongst the guests, we’re roleplaying. Currently he doesn’t like me much. The whole Wickham bit.”
“Or work simply trumps you. Huh. Maybe you are well suited.”
Josh took a sip from his cup to swallow down the sting. “He’s busy. He probably hasn’t even seen me.”
Cassius glanced down the long table. “Excuse me, gentlemen, ladies. I’m curious how many of you will be riding this afternoon?”
“They’re expecting rain,” someone said. “So it’s shifted to tomorrow after breakfast.”
Cassius grimaced, but the fate of the riding expedition wasn’t the point.
The point was that West was now looking down the table. He had most definitely seen them.
Josh drained his coffee.
West winked and Josh opened his mouth to say something inspired, hopefully, but at that moment the woman to West’s right spilled her coffee between them. West laughed it off, throwing his napkin over the puddle.
Cassius’s eyes narrowed on Josh. “How about we make this interesting.”
Josh frowned.
“Horse riding tomorrow. A race. If you win, I’ll come clean that this entire weekend was your idea. If you lose . . . You come clean about . . . not really loving that dude at all.”
Josh ground his teeth. “My fiancé’s name is Mr West.”
Cassius smirked, and if ever there were a villain, maybe it wasn’t Josh. Maybe it was his ex. Or at the very least they tied for the place.
The impulsive desire to duel rose up in Josh. He wanted to win. He would win, for West.
He opened his mouth—
“Josh.” West stood abruptly and strode to his side. He spoke low, privately. “Please. I have to prepare for the ball all day tomorrow, and I think you’ll find any kind of race would be considered reckless behaviour. It could lead to your being asked to leave.”
A distant bell rang, and West cursed softly. He turned toward the guests. “Excuse me ladies, gentlemen. I have duties to attend.” He met Josh’s eyes and walked off.
“So?” Cassius said. “Are we on?”
Burning, Josh turned away from Cassius’s unsurprised face and fled. Air. He needed fresh air.
He rushed outside and followed the path he’d taken with Professor Paisley. This time, he didn’t veer off at the creek but took the bridge to the other side into wide, rolling fields.
At least he was top of his class.
So . . . so what if he ended up lonely? If there were never another Mr Fairfax or a Lucy or a Roger running around his parents’ backyard on holidays?
He walked through long grass until his legs were numb, and his heart number. Maybe he was going about this all wrong. He should accept that he was boring and would never truly have a man like West, and move on. Keep smiling.
He practiced, and it wobbled. He kicked at the grass.
A raindrop landed on his cheek and rolled down his jaw.
He turned his face up to dark clouds just as they opened. Josh raced to the cover of the trees and then, spotting the church, jogged to the overgrown porch. Rain drummed on the roof, not lessening. Hard to imagine just this morning, West had surprised him with a picnic over there amongst fronds of lavender.
He leaned against the wall and stared longingly at the spot. For a fake attachment, this really did feel wonderful. He should enjoy it while he could.
The rain thickened. Another few minutes, and he’d make a dash for it. So what if he’d be drenched; he wasn’t made of sugar and he had a dry shirt he could change into . . .
A figure appeared in the distance. A big black umbrella concealed his face, but it hardly mattered; Josh’s body was already familiar with the man’s shape, his gait.
His heart jumped. The wait while West crossed the field felt interminable.
West re-gripped his umbrella, angling it to keep the rain out of the porch. “There you are.”
An awkward beat passed between them. “About before . . .”
Josh shifted from foot to foot. “You were right.”
West raised a brow. “Was I too harsh?”
“No. I just felt sorta . . . stupid? And embarrassed.”
West smirked. “Stupid? Last word I’d ever apply to you.”
Right. The intellectual snob.
The joke.
“Look,” West said. “I only—I have a job to do here. That has to come before your . . . competition with Cassius.”
Josh jerked his head up. “It’s not a competition.”
“Come on, Josh. This . . . thing between you means something.”
“Yes, it does.”
West glanced away, jaw twitching. Disappointment?
Josh liked that less than Cassius’s smug face as he’d pulled out of the wager. He folded his arms, dropped them, folded them again. “I was just . . . trying to stand my ground with him.”
West folded his arms. “You have nothing to prove, Josh.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You said he sat on your lap a whole bus ride not to touch the seat.”
“So?”
“I thought that said everything. Why do you care what this guy thinks?”
“It’s like . . . he’s a mirror on my life and I don’t like what I see, okay? I can be more than he thinks I am. I can be someone better. I am someone better!”
West hesitated, and looked at him.
Josh couldn’t hold his sad, inquisitive gaze.
West dropped his umbrella and hauled Josh into his arms, as easily as if they’d done this always, after a million tense conversations. A whispered curse combed over Josh’s hair. West’s breath shuddered at his ear. “Breathe in and out.”
“That’s generally how surviving works.”
That earned him a clap on the back of his head, and a fond, “This is more than surviving. This is about inner peace.”
Josh breathed deeply through his nose and out of his mouth. “This is making me question how this whole breathing thing works and it’s freaking me out.”
West chuckled. “Not your language of relaxation then.”
“No.”
“What does wind you down?”
“Um . . . probably nothing you want to do outside a church.”