Church. Family.
Home.
Josh stilled his fingers at the tip of a rose leaf. Oh no. Those Churchills.
“I’m sorry.”
West curled an arm around him and pressed his warm lips to his brow. “It’s why I’m still over here. Some might see it as running away. I see it as a chance to be myself.”
Josh wriggled closer and kissed West’s prickly jaw. “If this is yourself, I like it.”
A grin. “You do, do you?”
“Where did you get your confidence?”
“By failing a thousand times.” Josh frowned, and West continued, “I used to give oratory speeches at school. And I hated writing, so whenever I could, I asked to demonstrate my understanding in front of the class. The first few times I sucked. A lot. But I kept forcing myself to the front until it became familiar.”
“So you learned it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you amp yourself up? Tell yourself you own the room?”
“No. Confidence isn’t owning the room, it’s not caring if you don’t.”
Josh locked his legs around West and rolled atop him. He slid their lips together and dwelled in the soft warm press. “I suppose we shouldn’t be late today?”
West groaned and stretched, muscles undulating under Josh. “I wish we could. I’m on setting up for the ball this evening. We’ve thirty additional guests arriving.”
“Will you be valeting?”
“Some, yes.”
Josh dropped another kiss. “I’m weirdly jealous.”
“I’m weirdly happy about that.”
Josh pulled back and looked at him.
West rose up and snagged a moist kiss. “I enjoyed your horse drinking its fill last night.” Sparkly eyes hit his.
Josh laughed. “I enjoyed your well.”
“Hmm, analogy doesn’t work so well seeing you first had to water the well to have your horse drink from it.”
“Maybe not. Nevertheless, I’m looking forward to you watering mine later.”
The touch of their lips tasted intimate, and Josh melted against West.
Groaning, West rolled them over, trapping Josh under him. “Looking forward to that too. Lucky for us, my shift officially ends at the start of the ball, so . . .”
“You’re not coming?”
“Oh, I’m coming. Just not as staff.”
Josh grinned. “As my beau for the night?”
“You’ll reserve a dance for your fiancé, I hope?”
“You can have all of them.”
West winced. “I do love a good foot-stomping.”
“Hey!” Josh whacked his arm, and West slid off him and out of bed.
Josh missed his presence, curling his arms around his legs and leaning against the headboard as he watched West shave. Their gazes caught in the mirror.
West swallowed and parted his lips, then closed them again. He finished gliding the blade over his face and tapped it clean on the basin.
Out from the sheets, Josh picked out his riding clothes and washed up. He hummed more bawdy folk songs, and delighted when West took the time to valet him. “You look dashing.”
Josh felt good too. “I love these clothes. Playing the role of gentleman, experiencing this life.”
“Why do I hear a ‘but’?”
“I’m also rather looking forward to being out of them.”
West waggled his brows. “I can be of service there.”
A laugh. “I meant returning to jeans and t-shirts.”
“Returning to real life.”
Returning to himself, and being proud of it.
West faffed with the collar of Josh’s riding jacket, not raising his eyes. “It has been a fun weekend, though.”
“It is fun.”
“I guess . . . keep enjoying it while it lasts.”
West patted him on the shoulder and wished him a good day as he left the room, not looking back.
Gravity lurched in Josh’s gut, and his stomach fell out his feet.
While it lasts.
He’d barely tasted breakfast, and despite the warm breezes and the graceful horse under him, riding felt a solitary, lonely experience. Ahead, Cassius and Wally cantered easily on the open fields, a playful catch and chase, and Josh wished he had someone beside him, admiring the English countryside.
Not just anyone.
He wanted . . . he wanted West. Wanted to tell him about the land’s history, as far as he knew it, and wanted to hear what West knew. What he liked most about it.
It might segue into a discussion on travel, and Josh might ask all the places West still wanted to go. And where he thought he’d eventually settle down, and—
Oh, God.
It felt an age before guests were encouraged to their rooms to prepare for the ball. Josh hurried up nervously, hoping West would follow soon.
If he helped the process along, maybe they’d have some time before they headed back downstairs.
He’d stripped to his shirt when the knock came at his door. West sure knew how to play his part. “Come in.”
The door opened, and—
“Ashling!”
She smiled apologetically. “Sorry, West asked if I would. He’s stuck receiving the new guests.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“I brought these.” She dangled something pale and weirdly misshapen. Stockings?
“I have some right here—”
“These are padded at the calves. The fashion, you know.”
He laughed and beckoned for them. Once he’d dressed, Ashling helped slip on his coat and brushed it down. “Your fiancé is a lucky guy.”
His stomach twisted. For all he looked forward to tonight, he also had to come clean. He fiddled with his cuffs. “Ah, I’m the lucky one.”
She grinned at him, bright cheeks and hopeful green eyes. “And what does Darcy think of Mr West?”
Josh stopped tugging his sleeves and smiled softly. “It’s been almost two days since I considered him the most wonderful man of my acquaintance.”
Josh entered the ballroom and took in the wonder before him. The chandeliers, the paintings, the gilded mirrors reflecting the light and the sixty-odd richly attired guests.
The historian in him basked in all the details from the six-hour candles to the musicians in their mirrored corner, but the detail he’d most looked forward to wasn’t present. Yet.
Ashling made her way towards him through the crowd, chatting and laughing as she went, the satin and pearls of her gown gleaming. “Miss Ashling.” He bowed. “How lovely to see you this evening.”
“Mr Fairfax. I believe Mr West will be here shortly.”
“Ah, excellent.” Josh beamed, and suddenly Ashling’s gloved hand clutched his sleeve. “Lady Paisley is back. Oh my, that dress.”
Josh turned as his professor swept into the room, ribbon-trimmed hem swishing. Cassius and Wally flanked her, either side, and Josh shuddered at the reminder of what he had to do tonight.
Ashling’s hand tightened on him. “Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.”
Josh spoke low in her ear. “Why don’t you ask her to dance?”
“Dance! Her, with me? Do you think?”