by Bonnie Dee
Then he gave an exit speech. “Gentlemen, I trust you will push forward my grandfather’s endeavor in new and profitable directions while still maintaining the care of the many workers in his factories. These skilled men deserve the highest pay and safest conditions for the jobs they perform, and the board of directors must make certain that management is fair and just. Good day, sirs.”
He turned on his heel and strode from the room without waiting for any response.
Tobin wanted nothing more than to rush after him, shake his hand and congratulate him on being so brave as to face his past. Actually, he wanted to do a great deal more than shake hands with Pierce. But for the next few minutes, he must stay by Sir Anthony, helping to soothe the ruffled feathers of their disgruntled clients.
And then the rest of the business must be taken care of. They had a full agenda to cover—such boring work.
As soon as he could reasonably get away, Tobin made a dash for it only to find Pierce was not waiting for him outside. Nor was he in the factory that Tobin could see. Perhaps he’d returned to his hotel, or maybe Fenton’s office to discuss the results of the meeting. Tobin could only hope that was the case as he took a cab to Oliver’s office. He sat on the edge of his seat, leg jiggling nervously as the cab got stuck in stalled traffic behind an overturned cart.
What if Pierce got right back on a train to Yorkshire never to return? Good Lord, it would be faster to jump out of the hansom and run the last three or four blocks to the lawyer’s office. When it became clear the tie-up was going to carry on for some time, that was exactly what Tobin did. He paid the driver then walked briskly, nearly trotting, all the way to his destination.
He arrived breathless and disheveled, loosening his tie so he could breathe, as he raced up the stairs to Oliver’s rooms. Just as he’d been the first time he encountered Bennet, Tobin was red-faced and sweating when he burst in on Pierce and Fenton, startling the two men from their discussion.
“Tobin. You’re here. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Fenton spoke teasingly.
Tobin clutched the stitch in his side and shook his head. “Not…any longer…” he panted. Then he made eye contact with Pierce. “You were remarkable today.”
Pierce had risen from his seat and stared without answering.
“So collected and calm.” The complete opposite of himself right now. “I was very impressed with how you handled my, uh, clients.”
“Well, I…” Pierce continued to meet his gaze, unmoving.
Oliver looked back and forth between them before clapping his hands together. “I shall leave you gentlemen alone to talk for a few minutes while I pop around to the pub and pick up a few drams of Scotch. I think the occasion calls for a wee celebration.”
“Thank you, Fenton. You were of great assistance,” Tobin murmured without looking away from Pierce.
“Yes, Mr. Fenton. My thanks,” Pierce echoed without taking his gaze from Tobin.
“Perhaps as long as twenty minutes,” Fenton murmured before closing the door softly behind him.
Pierce broke his stare to glance at the door. “A good friend?”
“Very good. When we were at university, I once helped him with a situation involving a girl who claimed he’d fathered her child. He hadn’t.”
Pierce nodded and asked no more questions.
But he offered no words either, and so Tobin began, “I wanted to come to help you myself, but given the situation…” He waved a hand. That wasn’t what he’d actually come here to say. “I want you to know… I need to say how I feel. Since we’ve been apart, I…”
God, he couldn’t verbalize a single thought clearly from beginning to end. And he realized nearly every sentence had begun with “I”.
Tobin tried again. “How are you feeling? Was the ride to London too difficult? When you faced those men, I knew you thought of them as an enemy, like that other time. It must have been a real struggle to stand there so bravely. I admire you.” I love you. But he couldn’t say that.
Pierce inclined his shaved chin slightly. “Thank you for sending your friend to give me the news. I’m glad I came. It was the right thing to do.”
“What made you change your mind? Fenton must have been quite persuasive.”
Pierce shook his head, and the gaslight gleamed on his shorn hair. “No. It was you. He mentioned you were in trouble with your superiors, intimated you might lose your position. I had to come and see if I could repair the damage I’d caused. I hope I did, even though I didn’t fall into line with what your clients wanted.”
Now Tobin shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t care about the damned board of Pierce and Associates. I only wanted to do right by you. And I haven’t been sacked. There was no real danger of that. I’m quite good at my job”—he grinned at Pierce’s snicker—“but… I do believe I’m going to quit the firm.”
Pierce’s eyes widened, and he took a step toward Tobin. “Why would you do that? You love your work.”
“Do I? It hardly feels like it.” Tobin matched Pierce step for step as they drew closer to one another. “Since my little vacation in Yorkshire, everything appears different to me. The constant negotiating and paperwork my job entails seems tedious. I’d prefer law that mattered to people leading ordinary lives. I used to think of each document or assignment as a puzzle to be put together and made perfect and unbreakable, and I enjoyed the challenge, but now…”
Now all I think of is you. How could he go back to the man he’d been before? Which reminded him… “You appear very stylish, Daniel Pierce. Though I miss your beard.”
Pierce rubbed a hand absently over his chin. “Do you? I plan to grow it back. One needs the protection against the wind on the fells.”
“Naturally. Will you be returning to the farm soon?”
“I hate to leave Dickon in charge for long. There’s so much to be done, and he’s rather lazy, as you’ve observed.”
Tobin laughed. “Ah, but the dogs will keep everything in order even if the boy won’t.”
“I suppose they will at that.” Pierce uncurled the fingers of one hand, and Tobin saw the note he’d passed him earlier had been gripped in his fist. “Thank you for this. It helped me do what I needed to do.”
“I wanted to encourage you. I would’ve liked to do more than hand you a note.”
How long were they going to volley the ball this way? Wasn’t it about time one of them made an actual move? Tobin took a breath and a last step forward so he stood right before Pierce.
“I wanted to be able to tell you that I stood with you, even though I couldn’t actually do so. I didn’t want you to think I’d dragged you away from your seclusion in order to serve my own ends. You have my utmost respect and my”—he swallowed—“my deepest affection, Daniel. Jacob. Bennet. Pierce. Whoever you are.”
The sweetest smile curved Pierce’s lips, making the crease in his cheek grow deep. “I care for you too. Very much. More than I thought possible.”
“And so… Now what happens?” Tobin reached out to take that rough hand in his. He rubbed his thumb over the callused pads on Pierce’s palm. “What shall we do?”
The handsome man reached out to stroke the curve of Tobin’s cheek. “I don’t know. I must return home.”
Tobin nodded. “I know you must.” But I don’t need to stay here, he thought, but didn’t say the words. Too premature to make such an offer.
“Before I leave, there’s someplace in the city I must go.” Pierce’s eyes were liquid, and his voice quavered. “I wish you could go with me.”
“I can. I will. Where to?”
Daniel stepped down from the cab, which moved just a bit as the horse shifted restlessly. The moment his foot hit the pavement, he began to feel nauseated. To distract himself, he pulled some coins from his pocket and paid the driver.
“Wait here,” he ordered. “We’
ll be only a few minutes.”
He felt Tobin’s presence behind him as the other man stood with him, facing the busy street, not so very far from Covent Garden. Pedestrians came and went, focused on their own business. Most wore well-worn clothing, the neat, serviceable but cheap attire of the lower class, working men and women toiling through their day.
At night, one would occasionally spot more finely dressed men, taking an adventurous trip to see how the other half lived and to enjoy some of the evening entertainment in this part of the city. Foolish university boys on a lark, or young gentlemen like himself and Jacob Phillips, who should have known better. This was no place for them to play, and they’d paid the ultimate price for their evening’s entertainment.
Or Jacob had. Daniel merely ran away.
Right there, the man with the dancing dogs had played his tune with his cap on the ground to attract stray coins. Right there, Jacob had laughed heartily and looked over at Daniel. Right there, Daniel had stood looking back and wishing they were free to take each other’s hand. And right…here, the crowd had surrounded Jacob and taken him down.
Daniel stared at the dirty pavement, searching for a stain of red but seeing nothing.
Tobin touched his elbow lightly. “Will you be all right?”
Daniel jerked away. “Don’t! Not here.” He looked around wildly, expecting to see stares. But the passing people were intent on their own lives. No one spared the two men a glance.
Tobin dropped his hand but remained close. “Would you like to…say a prayer?”
Daniel shook his head.
After that, Tobin waited quietly. Daniel glanced over to see he held his hat in his hands, head bowed. The respectful gesture made his stomach ache with gratitude.
I’m sorry I didn’t save you. I wish things had gone differently, that those men hadn’t seen us share a moment. Or better, that we lived in a world where it didn’t matter, a world without angry mobs. I miss you still, Jacob, and will never forget you. But I lay you to rest at last. Good-bye, Jacob.
He didn’t know if it counted as a prayer or not, but those were the words he silently offered as the crowd swirled around the pair of them standing like rocks in the middle of a stream.
At last, Daniel looked up at Tobin and nodded. “I’m ready now.”
Tobin led the way back to the cab. He gave the driver a direction before climbing inside to sit across from Daniel, his back to the horses.
“Where did you tell him to go?”
“My house. Will you join me for a while?”
Daniel looked into those beautiful eyes that offered nothing but compassion and nodded. “Yes.”
Chapter Eighteen
Daniel liked the house. Tobin eschewed dark colors or intricate designs on the walls, which were mostly pale greens and yellows—hardly fashionable but restful.
If Daniel still lived in this world, it would be precisely the sort of place he’d want to inhabit. Not so huge it would stay cold all winter, not so small one felt as if anyone else living there was always underfoot.
Cold and small described his own cottage.
Tobin trailed after him as he opened a door to what appeared to be a drawing room.
“I could give you a tour,” Tobin said.
Yes, Pierce had apparently lost his hold on good manners, because he wandered from room to room without asking permission. That was almost enough to stop him in his exploration, but then he decided he was more interested in learning about Tobin than in behaving gentlemanly.
“Lead the way, then,” Pierce said, but then walked into the room straight over to a portrait of a family: stern father and mother—and grinning boy of about seven. It was a painting, not a photograph, so the father and mother apparently always looked as if they had a pain in their sides.
“You and your parents,” Pierce guessed.
“Yes, and I was the only one of us who liked the painter. He said some awful words, and he farted audibly and often. I think he was my first love.” Tobin gave a dramatic and heavy sigh. “Shall I order something to eat? I’m feeling light-headed from lack of food.”
That was a good explanation for his own behavior, Pierce decided. That and the relief he’d felt after visiting the street that featured in nearly all of his nightmares. A small insignificant but crowded street in London like hundreds of others—nearly all of its power had been drained away. Better still, he needn’t go there again, ever.
They settled in armchairs near the portrait, not side by side, but close. It was obviously a favorite location for Tobin, for when maid and manservant came in with tea and sandwiches, they left the cart without asking where to place it. The display was pretty though hardly extravagant fare for London. Yet the thin slices of crustless bread and delicate pasties seemed odd to Pierce after his years in the country.
As Tobin piled a plate with sandwiches from the silver platter, Pierce shifted in his chair and examined the grinning child in the portrait. “I think you probably gave your parents a great deal of trouble.”
“No doubt, but they loved me anyway. My mother did. My father tolerated me.”
Pierce cocked his head. “Did you love him?”
Tobin’s face twisted a little but then settled on a smile. “Far too much, I expect.”
“Too much love? I think that’s probably something people who don’t know how to love would say,” Pierce said slowly. “It’s something I might have said. And I think it comes from fear.”
Tobin gave him a beaming smile and handed over the plate. “You wouldn’t say it now?”
Pierce shook his head. “I have no idea what I would say now.”
“I wonder. Are you still Jacob Bennet?” Tobin asked.
Pierce ate most of the sandwiches in a few bites. “I think I shall be Daniel Jacob Pierce. I shan’t bother with Bennet now that I’m not hiding.” He picked up another sandwich with a pair of silver tongs with vine handles. He waved the tongs. “Did you buy this?”
“No. Nearly everything in this room in this house came from my parents. I inherited it all. They talked about having more children but never did. My father used to say my sister Grace was an angel even while she was alive, but they might have had the misfortune to have another like me.” Tobin shook his head in his customary exaggerated doleful manner, but when he spoke his voice was serious, without a trace of a smile. “So you’re dropping the name Bennet? I shall miss him.”
“That’s a funny thing to say.”
Tobin nodded. “I know.”
“I’m still here,” Pierce said. He snapped the tongs at Tobin, then put them down on the platter.
Now Tobin smiled. “Are you still rude to strangers and hot-tempered?”
Pierce considered the question. “Perhaps, yet I expect life will prove easier when one is not running away or hiding.” Thanks to you.
“Easy, bah.” Tobin heaved a loud sigh. “Don’t you see? You are too good-natured to be my Jacob Bennet.”
Pierce ate the sandwich. “Yours, eh?”
“In my dreams,” Tobin said solemnly.
Pierce felt the hairs on his head and arms stand and his heartbeat quickened. Tobin had dropped the silliness. He was serious.
“You don’t know me.” He tried not to sound challenging, but the words came out as much a snarl as anything he’d ever said.
Tobin didn’t seem intimidated. “That’s true. Dreams are not based on any sort of logic, hmm?” Tobin used the tongs to put a sandwich on the delicate bone plate, but he didn’t eat it. “I’m telling you what I want, not what is real.”
“My dreams are usually nightmares,” Pierce said.
Tobin sipped his tea. And then, as calmly as if he proposed ordering more cakes for their meal, he said, “Ah, but what if we shared a bed? Not your god-awful bed, but a real one. You could wake me up and tell me about your dreams. Or tell me to he
lp you forget.”
Pierce launched from his chair. “Are you insane? Are you a fool? What are you suggesting?”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Pierce. I’m not speaking of signing contracts for once. There would be no obligation on either part. I would stay at Meaks’s inn, or perhaps find a better place. And I would ride out on a horse I could control, and go up those hills.” He grinned. “I’d visit the farm.”
“You don’t know me,” Pierce said again.
“What makes you think I’d be visiting you? I have to check on my lambs.”
At Tobin’s suggestion, a stirring of something like wings fluttered inside Pierce. Was it possible? Was there some hope for a continued friendship between them? Visits? Overnight stays? Possibly more?
Tobin ate the sandwich slowly. Licked his fingers. “You are my Bennet. I recognize you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You take everything far too seriously. I propose a holiday up north, and you run like a startled creature. It is entirely clear that you need me to add some levity to your existence. I shall make arrangements to take time off and travel north.”
Those fluttering moth wings of hope turned abruptly into a strong beat of annoyance. Pierce couldn’t believe the man’s gall, the high-handed, casual way he made a decision without asking if he was even welcome.
He began to pace over the plush Oriental carpet. “You force your way into my life. You make me face things I had no interest in revisiting. You coerce me to take money that I didn’t want. And now you’ll strong-arm yourself onto my farm?”
Tobin’s face fell. He looked crushed. He covered his face with his hands. His shoulders hunched.
Pierce moved to him at once and dropped to his knees next to Tobin’s chair. “Oh God, Gregory. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”
Tobin peered at him through his fingers. The bastard was grinning. “You’ve discovered my diabolical plan. My element of surprise is lost.”
Pierce went weak with relief and annoyance—and resignation. “You are diabolical,” he agreed. He put a hand on the fine wool trouser covering Tobin’s leg. “You will grow tired of the sheep and wind too soon,” he said at last. “I think that’s my greatest fear. I will become used to your presence, and then you’ll leave.”
