Gentlemen in Love Box Set

Chapter 5

Chapter 5Christmas Day was one of great enjoyment. The ground floor of the house was redolent with the scent of rich greenery, all tastefully arranged and widely praised. The local church was packed for the morning service as they sang joyous carols. Then they returned to the house to feast, the children playing with their new toys while the table was arranged to be big enough for all the company.

Despite the crowd of people, it felt oddly intimate, as the Grants had let most of the staff celebrate with their own families. In this way, guests served themselves with food and even volunteered to take some of the serving dishes back to the kitchens. The whole atmosphere of amicable Christmas spirit made this enjoyable.

Jonathan marvelled at the informality of the Grants’ household. In his own spare bachelor home, he was used to shifting for himself, but the Grants could afford to have as many servants as they pleased, just to underline their status.

Despite being comfortably off and living in a large residence, they were very easy in their ways and unthinkingly did tasks for themselves, rather than expecting an employee to race to their aid. The staff was evidently considered part of the family and the informal temporary help were accustomed to coming in and out of the house in the most relaxed way. It made for a jolly atmosphere.

While the older members of the company rested from an excess of food and the younger went outdoors to walk off their high spirits, the house was quiet in the early twilight. Replete from feasting and armed with a glass of brandy, Jonathan settled by the fire in the library with one of the more senior members of the Grant family, who after a few minutes of desultory conversation, fell soundly asleep.

As he listened to the ticking clock and the crackle of the fire plus the soft snores from his companion, Jonathan felt more relaxed than he had done in years. The good food and merry company were irresistible and his face ached from smiling more than usual.

As he sat comfortably and quietly, his life at home seemed like a hair shirt in comparison, bleak and driven. Yes, of course, he reasoned to himself, he had to work hard on the farm initially and he had a parcel of relatives to care for, but need it be quite so joyless?

He mused on this while swirling the brandy in the glass against the warmth of the fire, the rich tawny shade and aroma of the liquid seeming to coalesce his train of thought.

Life had been so different once, full of excitement, adventure, love, even…His recollections nudged against that painfully sore spot in his memory, but for once he did not flinch or withdraw, but let the years roll back and the reminiscences fill his mind.

It was at university that life had become so vivid. Before then, his young existence had been somewhat functional and grey. The early loss of both parents, who he could barely remember, resulted in the stewardship of his two elderly great uncles. Despite neither being married, they had taken on the responsibility of the boy without fuss and catered for his practical needs. Jonathan recollected his childhood and adolescence being dominated by similar Spartan routines, both in term time and at home, shuttling between one uncle and the other.

And so, unsurprisingly, his first term at Oxford was a revelation.

This was particularly because, in his sheltered ignorance, he had expected nothing different. He had assumed it would be much like school; a mainly male environment with a strict pecking order and an emphasis on scholastic achievement or athleticism.

Indeed, that was so, but alongside all that was so much more freedom than he could have ever imagined. At first, he stood on the sidelines, observing his peers as they eagerly took their fill of wine, women, and song. The female amours were no issue for him and also, he was too wary to get involved with so much heavy spending, heavy drinking, and gambling, none of which he could afford. During his upbringing, his uncles had taken their responsibilities seriously in that quarter as to what proper conduct and expenditure was expected of him as a sprig of the noble Cavendish line.

Gradually and inevitably though, he had made friends and his lack of extremes in manner caused him to be considered as a sound sort of fellow and so his university life was unremarkable and settled. And then he met Sebastian. God, even after all these years, even rolling the name around in his mind gave up a kaleidoscope of memories, full of colour, life, and brilliance.

That first sighting was etched in his mind. He and a friend were walking across the quad between lectures and suddenly Sebastian was there, joking with a group of friends, head thrown back in irresistible laughter, that gorgeous column of pale throat exposed above his neckcloth. Jonathan’s mouth went dry at the memory. He took another sip of brandy.

Even at that initial glimpse, then shortly afterwards, when they were introduced, Sebastian had seemed gilded and glowing to Jonathan. His golden hair, mobile features, and light cerulean eyes made Jonathan want to adulate him like an Adonis, or even a Greek god.

He was happy enough to worship from afar, to get a tingle of magic when he caught a glimpse of his idol. And so he was amazed when Sebastian sought him out, stepping outside his own exclusive circle, deliberately befriending him, and seeming almost shy in his advances.

Jonathan was dazzled. They had become lovers very quickly and he had experienced those pangs and darts and arrows of first love all at once. He had known his nature at school but not acted upon it, through both native caution and not wanting to disgrace his uncles. It was a well-known fact that young men who played s****l games a little too obviously or became over-serious about their crushes were expelled without hesitation.

Sebastian had no such concerns for what he dismissively called parochial morality and did not seem to care about showing his affection for Jonathan. At the time, this was liberating, as though their love took them beyond social rules. As an older, wiser man, Jonathan reflected that it was more Sebastian’s aristocratic background that made him feel untouchable. After all, he was wealthy enough to act above the law, oblivious to the consequences for more ordinary men.

Rather than fizzling out, as Jonathan had half-expected, their relationship had blossomed over the final year of his studies. When it was time for them to leave Oxford, there was no question of them being parted. Sebastian was taking rooms in a fashionable part of London and it seemed natural and unremarkable for Jonathan to share with him, as many young men did.

They lived together happily, a confirmed couple to their close intimates and just good friends to their families and the wider social circle. Due to his nature and more modest income, Jonathan had a quiet routine, while Sebastian, at least during the season, attended balls and soirees and dabbled at the fashionable West End gaming hells.

For those precious few years, it seemed like they complemented each other perfectly. Opposites really can attract, Jonathan smiled a little sadly to himself. Sebastian drew Jonathan out of his self-protective shell, made him more outgoing and socially confident, while Jonathan calmed down Sebastian’s more erratic, impulsive nature.

However different their natures and income, privately, their lovemaking was always joyous, always equal. Jonathan remembered all shared laughter and private jokes and the sheer, breathtaking beauty of his lover.

But, perhaps inevitably, after a long season in the sun, the cracks began to show. Jonathan was spending more time in the countryside with his ageing uncles as they grew more frail. Sebastian was understanding of this at first and on Jonathan’s return to their rooms, their reconciliations were more passionate than ever.

However, it became clear that Sebastian was growing bored with the social round in London, especially when the repetitive routine was emphasised by Jonathan’s absences. As the seemingly endless war in Europe drew to a close, he was eager to spread his wings and travel abroad, in a Grand Tour that had been the norm for his father and grandfather before him, before Napoleon had put a stop to such excursions.

At first, it was nothing but exhilarating to join in with these projects, buoyed by Sebastian’s eager enthusiasm. Together, they discussed where they would travel, what they would see, and all the adventures they would share.

Looking back, Jonathan realised that he had already begun to mature by this time, having taken on more responsibility for his uncles. Rather than resenting the increasing burden of care, he took on the mantle gladly. For him, it was merely a return for all the years of his childhood when his uncles had provided him with their protection.

Also, although never bored of Sebastian’s company, he found the life of mindless pleasure in London a little dulling. He rather missed the academic discipline of school and university and so he felt it sharpened his brain and wits to assist his uncles gathering together their various legal papers to get their life’s business in some order.

As an orphan without siblings, he felt a sense of belonging during his increasingly frequent visits. He enjoyed listening to the reminiscences about his parents and long-gone family members. Even if he hadn’t comprehended this at the time, he knew now that he was never cut out to be a kept man, his only desire being his lover’s momentary whim.

The sad passing of one uncle left him surprisingly bereft and he ploughed his energies into disposing of the settlements as to the old man’s precise wishes. Little more than a year later, the death of his remaining uncle made him the heir to an estate, if you could call it that, he thought with a rueful smile. Tumbledown ruin it might have been, but it still entailed an obligation.

Sebastian would not understand. Could not understand, for his was a life without any accountability. If something needed doing, he directed a man of business to take care of it for him and promptly forgot about it. After all, that was what money was for.

And so, for some months, Jonathan vacillated, torn between family duties and the life of thoughtless ease his lover expected him to lead. He remembered how he felt permanently exhausted from balancing his two existences, trying to sort out his uncle’s neglected lands and at the same time playing the role of Sebastian’s carefree companion.

Inevitably, Sebastian’s vague plans for his continental excursion became more confirmed and so he became more impatient at each delay. “Why can’t we go now?” he’d ask, exasperated at what he saw as Jonathan’s excuses, running a careless hand through that golden mane Jonathan adored so much.

Jonathan desperately tried to placate him, asking for a few more weeks to settle his affairs, running himself ragged at trying to fix years of neglect at the farm in no time at all and with limited resources. The uneasy compromise continued for some months until an unexpected event toppled everything.

Jonathan got the tragic news that his mother’s younger brother had died suddenly of a fever, leaving his Aunt Matilda and a brood of small children without protection. On the announcement of yet another death in the family, Sebastian let him leave town with barely concealed irritation and impatience.

While Jonathan comforted the grieving widow and sorted out her husband’s tangled business dealings to her everlasting relief, he realised that he was now truly the head of the family. He could no longer pretend to himself that he could run away and leave all his responsibilities.

When he returned to London, much later than he had hoped, Sebastian was bitterly resolved. The rows were dreadful. Jonathan, usually so stoical and calm, had been reduced to tears and uncharacteristically distraught pleading.

“My aunt needs me,” he tried to explain, his voice breaking with emotion. “I cannot abandon her with no resources and the fear she might lose her home. She requires a male relative to intervene with the bank and lawyers and I am the only one she has. There is no one else to assist her.”

“But why must we delay, again?” Sebastian railed at him, eyes blazing angrily. “I need you too. Much more than your assorted incumbent relatives.” He dismissed Jonathan’s Aunt Matilda and his nieces and nephews with an airy wave of his hand.

“It will be just a little while,” Jonathan begged. “Just wait for me, please.”

“For how long? Days, weeks, months, years even? I cannot delay my life and plans forever at your leisure.” With that, Sebastian turned on his heel, departing to yet another soiree without a goodbye.

Looking back, it was clear to Jonathan that they had already gone their separate ways well before their physical parting. It was just that at the time, under so much pressure, he simply couldn’t perceive that. Jonathan loved Sebastian, there was no question of that, but he was also deeply committed to his family’s well-being and security. Unlike Sebastian, he did not grudge his uncle’s widow the need of his time and services. She and the children were his only remaining relatives, after all.

Also, in truth, if he was honest with himself as he dared not be with his lover, he did not want to leave the farm to another’s supervision, even if he could have afforded that. He felt a need to do the necessary restorations on the property for and by himself and was eager to get stuck into the hard physical work that entailed.

The countdown to Sebastian’s departure continued irrevocably. When the dreaded day came, his trunks packed, he stood before Jonathan while putting on his gloves, looking as beautiful as ever, but colder, more remote. “Of course, you can stay here until the end of the month, when the lease ends. Everything is paid in full,” he said dismissively, in a matter of fact manner that was so at odds with his usual impetuous warmth.

Jonathan had stammered something incoherent, desperately trying to express his devotion, thanks, indebtedness, loss, and regret.

At that, Sebastian had turned to him, looked him fully in the eyes for one last time and saying, “Well, you have made your choice. I wish you happy with it.” And then finally, with savage bitterness, “I now comprehend that you just didn’t love me enough.”

Those final words were like a frozen dagger through Jonathan’s heart. For the remainder of his time in London, the apartment seemed empty without Sebastian’s vibrant presence and those last hurtful words echoed through his head again and again.

He settled his meagre debts and remaining town accounts easily enough and set off for the remote property where he threw himself into rebuilding the farm. The fact that one evening before his departure, a casual friend had told him that Sebastian was not alone in his travels, just increased his misery.

He took a reflective sip of brandy. I buried myself in my work, my home, my family. But in retrospect, was that such a bad decision? Duty and responsibility could be hard taskmasters, but they had their own rewards. He had a flourishing farm with a soundly rebuilt house, his cousins were thriving, and his aunt had a more than adequate income through his efforts.

On the outside, his life was fulfilled and even modestly successful. He drew great satisfaction from his dogged endeavours. So why do I feel so very empty? he thought, swirling his glass again, the remaining drops of brandy clinging to the sides.

He had heard news of Sebastian from time to time over the intervening years. Just casual snippets from mutual friends, thrown in along with other gossip of the university crowd. As far as Jonathan was aware, he was still travelling abroad with a succession of ever-younger male companions. Jonathan wondered if he was content in his unsettled existence, journeying restlessly from country to country, with a stream of fresh faces and new lovers passing through his life?

He truly hoped so and wished him no ill. He only wished that one day his own heart would stop aching for what he had lost. Perhaps Sebastian was right, and this purgatory was fit punishment for carelessly having thrown their love away.

He sat there lost in thought for a while longer until he heard the distant slam of an outside door and the ring of youthful voices. He dragged his mind back from the sorrows of the past to the enjoyment of the present and roused himself out of his comfortable chair to join the others.