Hold Fast by Sebastian Nothwell

Author:Sebastian Nothwell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, victorian, nautical, whaling, romance gay, romance 1800s, romance 1890s, historical gay, romance mm, historical mm
Publisher: Sebastian Nothwell

Chapter Eighteen

Evelyn retired, hoping a knock on his door would interrupt his slumber and either Morgan or Ned—or both—would arrive to keep him company in the vast sea of the master bed. But when he awoke the next morning, he did so alone. Disappointed, he rose and dressed. The clock on the mantle bid him go down to breakfast. Perhaps he might meet his lovers there.

At the breakfast table, Evelyn found his aunt.

“Did you enjoy your first society dinner?” she asked, not looking up from buttering her muffin.

Evelyn glanced around the otherwise empty table. “Well enough. Where is—?”

“I’m informed Basil is yet sleeping off the aftermath of his celebration,” said Aunt Cecily.

Evelyn’d meant to ask after Morgan or Ned, and felt somewhat guilty for forgetting his brother.

Aunt Cecily raised her head, along with an eyebrow. “Do sit down, Evelyn, before it all goes cold.”

Evelyn obeyed. “And Ned…?”

Aunt Cecily pursed her lips and turned to regard Jeremy, the handsome footman, standing ready by the sideboard.

“Lord Harcourt has elected to take breakfast in his room, ma’am,” said Jeremy.

Aunt Cecily turned back to Evelyn. “There you have it.”

“And Turner?” asked Evelyn.

Aunt Cecily set down her muffin. “And when, dear Evelyn, will it occur to you to ask after the poor, neglected Devereauxs?”

Evelyn blinked at her. “What?”

“The phrase you seek is, ‘I beg your pardon?’, and I’m loathe to grant it. Before, during, and after dinner, Miss Devereaux was at her most charming, and you ignored her. The poor girl is crushed by your indifference.”

Evelyn thought she’d soon recover. “Basil didn’t ignore her.”

“No, but I wish to God he had.” Aunt Cecily sighed. “Between the two of you, she is thoroughly embarrassed.”

“Ned was a gentleman to her.”

“You’d better practice calling him ‘Lord Harcourt’ in polite company. And his manners are no reflection upon our own family. You were the host, and forced one of your guests to perform your duties for you, and let another make a fool of himself.”

Evelyn gave up on his bacon. “My dear aunt, I have the distinct impression you’re vexed with me.”

Aunt Cecily humph’d and bit into her muffin.

Evelyn pushed his sausages around his plate. “I’m sorry.”

Aunt Cecily chewed with all the patience and grace appropriate to a woman of her station. As such, Evelyn had to wait some time to receive her judgment.

“That’s all I wished to hear,” she said at last.

Evelyn resumed his breakfast in silence.

After breakfast, Evelyn excused himself to the library. Once out of his aunt’s sight, he fled upstairs to Morgan’s room. His knock went unanswered, as it had the previous night. Evelyn dropped to his knees by the keyhole.

“Morgan?” he whispered, then let his voice rise to a hiss as he repeated his call. No answer. Evelyn pressed his ear to the door. Nothing. He rose and tried the knob. Locked. His patience wore out. “God damn you, man, will you open this—”

“Sir?”

Evelyn shut his jaw and turned to face the maid. “Halloa, Sally.”

She curtsied, though her expression remained wary.

Evelyn cleared his throat. “Have you seen Turner today?”

“No, sir, but Kelly saw him in the kitchen about ten o’clock.

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