Snowbound

Chapter Nineteen

Giles felt no distress at Ethan’s words because he could not bring himself to believe that so vital a creature as Ethan would choose death when there was even the slightest chance that it could be avoided. Set against that conviction however was the intimate knowledge he had of the man’s stubborn will and that did give him pause for thought. He stared at Ethan, feeling the heat radiating off him, seeing the strain twist his face as the rising agony forced his breath from him in laboured gasps.

“This will not do, Ethan,” he said. “You must see that it will not. I cannot watch you die. Hold my hand again, so that we can talk, if that helps.”

“No.”

The single word carried with it the weight of years of bitterness and Giles flinched before setting his teeth. “Soon you’ll be too weak to fight me,” he pointed out, striving for a coolness he knew would irritate Ethan, hoping to distract him from both his suffering and his resolve to let it take him into death. “It will be simple enough to bind our hands together; if I cannot do it alone, one of my friends will gladly help. If you do not wish that, I suggest you cease this foolishness.”

Eyes blazing with hurt and anger fixed on his face. “Bring but one of them to the door and I’ll use what little strength I have left to curse them.” Spent with the effort of choking out the words, Ethan lay back, alarmingly pale.

“Very well,” Giles said. “Then you must agree to let me help you.” Without waiting for an answer he moved swiftly to strip Ethan of boots, coat and breeches, ignoring the protests that spilled from him. Deftly untying Ethan’s cravat and tossing it – not without a puzzled glance – beside one of his that lay crumpled beside the bed, he left Ethan in nothing but his shirt, already clinging to his heated body, damply translucent. There was plenty of room for him to lie beside Ethan and after shrugging out of his robe, he did just that.

“Rupert...”

The note of warning in Ethan’s voice was not to be lightly disregarded, he knew, but even as he marveled at what he did, his body slipped naturally into position, fitting itself to contours that, as ever, seemed made to match his own. His arm went thus...his leg slid there...and Ethan lay within his arms, the hectic flush of heat already fading, the tight, pain-wracked muscles relaxing as his hand swept over them. He did not expect Ethan’s capitulation to be so sudden, but with a resigned, not unhappy, sigh the dark head came to rest against his shoulder and he felt Ethan’s hand against him, sweeping from shoulder to thigh as though he craved reassurance that this was no dream.

Impossible not to be aroused at that light, questing touch, impossible not to respond with all that he had or to keep from kissing the mouth Ethan’s startled, upward glance brought within reach of his lips...

Ethan struggled then, lips closed, hands clenching, but Giles pulled away enough to whisper the one word that had always given him what he desired, if only because it had taken Ethan so long to coax it from him. “Please...Ethan, I beg you, let me do this.”

“Why?”

The whisper that reached Giles’ ears sounded more of a plea than his own words had been. “Because if you die, I will follow hard on your heels, and I find I have no wish to leave this world. Not now I’ve found you again.”

“I hate you,” Ethan said, his voice low.

“You should,” Giles told him, brushing back the thick hair that hid the hollow at the temple he had loved to kiss. “I deserve it, none more so...but I do not think you do, though truth to tell, I’d choose it over indifference.”

Ethan smiled at that, a faint curl of his lips. “Of course you would.”

“You seem improved,” Giles ventured. “I still do not perfectly understand – how much must we do to make you safe? Will it last? Is there nothing we can do to mend what was – what I damaged?”

“So many questions,” Ethan murmured. “Mend not dissolve?”

“You said the bond could not be destroyed,” Giles pointed out.

“True enough, but we could perhaps find some way to return to the balance we have achieved these last years.”

“And what has that cost you?” Giles asked. “To me, they have been barren years, yet not unhappy at times...you, who have borne my pain as well as your own; what have they held for you?”

Ethan turned his face away without replying.

“That answers me,” Giles said. “God, Ethan! Could you not have written – sent word?”

“I crave your pardon,” Ethan said icily, shifting away from Giles but retaining enough prudence not to break contact with his skin. “What would you have had me write? Had I told you I suffered, would you not have rejoiced? Had I told you I needed you close, would you not have packed your bags and headed for the Antipodes?”

The truth of his acerbic words bit deeply and Giles groaned. “Ethan – what a mull I’ve made of it!”

The rueful admission seemed to soften Ethan a little, but he remained where he was, making no effort to return to Giles’ arms. “We can, perhaps, stave off this attack by what we are doing, but even if we were to lie together, it would not be enough to allow us to part without consequences tomorrow. We need to be what we are not – we need to love again, and I cannot, Rupert. I cannot give you again what you held so cheap when first I gave it. I cannot hate, I dare not love – yskedsked what the years have held? Emptiness, Rupert and there is no poison or wound that leaves deeper scars.”

The passion in his voice rose high and Giles was left with nothing to do but hold him close, whispering what words he could of regret and reassurance as Ethan’s body shook, not with pain, but tears for all that had befallen them.

Giles pulled the sheets around them feeling Ethan shiver as the fever left him. “Sleep, Ethan. You’re exhausted and I –”

He hesitated, but Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking amused. “The lad kept you busy, did he?” His smile faded, “Although your pleasure was probably bought at my expense; that must have been the final straw, to have you delighting in another.”

“Did you know whenever I took a lover then?” Giles asked curiously.

Ethan shrugged. “In time I grew able to interpret my symptoms. I could probably guess when you met him.”

He named a date and Giles considered it and then nodded. “Not the date we met but the date I –”

“Became besotted with him?” Ethan pursed his lips in a mocking, not entirely friendly smile. “Had we still been together, I wonder if I would have had to watch your eyes wander?”

“That is unworthy of you, Ethan,” Giles replied. “And shows a lack of confidence in your ability to keep me enthralled that makes me wonder how much you have changed.” He smiled. “My Ethan would have never entertained the notion that I could find anyone worth looking at if he were there.”

“Your Ethan?” Ethan said, with a faint stress on the first word. “Exists there such a man? I fear you must don your black gloves and mourn him.”

Giles gazed at him, bringing up his hand to cup Ethan’s face. Slowly he rubbed his thumb over lips he’d kissed ripe so many times, watching Ethan’s eyes darken. “Must I?” He kissed Ethan’s throat, feeling the pulse jump beneath his lips. “Must I really?” His mouth took Ethan’s with a gentleness that fled at the first touch of Ethan’s tongue. “Never,” he said fiercely, “I will not, do you hear me? Ethan, my love, tell me I need not ...”

For a moment he thought Ethan would turn from him, his revenge complete now he knew himself loved once more, but with a headshake Ethan answered him. “You need not mourn me, love.” His eyes sparkled with sudden laughter. “Was I always this easy for you to cozen, Rupert? Or have the years mellowed me, for I swear this moment I cannot refuse you anything. I sought your life but an hour since and now I crave nothing but your kisses.”

“Then you shall have them,” Giles murmured, tugging impatiently at Ethan’s shirt and sighing with satisfaction when it was removed. “And more...”

“There is more?” Ethan marveled as his hand traced patterns Giles’ skin remembered, waking to his touch. “I had quite forgot...”

“Liar,” Giles said. “But I shall remind you with pleasure...”

***

The room darkened around them as the winter’s day drew to a close, the sun sending faintly golden light into the room where they lay, silent now, clasped together. They had slept without dreams and woken to the reality of each other near. Ethan was the first to speak, stretching out his leg and sighing. “You have an excellent memory, love, though I fear mine is fading. Remind me once more of how you sound when I bite down here, oh so very gently.”

Giles cuffed his shoulder, turning it into a caress even as he halted Ethan’s slow slide down his body. “I’ll do so happily, Ethan but I think I should tell the others that we’ve resolved our differences.” He frowned a little ansly.sly. “We have, have we not?”

Ethan set his teeth into the closest piece of flesh and bit down hard. “Idiot,” he said, with admirable brevity. “And your friends have been to the door at least three times and tiptoed away conversing in worried tones about if it was best to leave us alone or investigate. I think the silence when you slept bothered them more than the, ah, noisier moments.”

“They were here?” Giles felt a flush rise to heat his face. “Good Lord! Are you certain?”

He wasn’t bitten again but the look he got was far from indulgent. “Those three? Setting aside their inability to skulk with any degree of success, their power – oh, it’s too strong for me not to notice them if I tried.” Ethan looked thoughtful. “You were drawn to them because you were starved for that connection. Wesley was the last to join the group, am I correct? And he had doubts, doubts that made him able to do what they could not – form a relationship with you.”

sortsorts,” Giles admitted. “He’s the most magically inclined of the three as well. I wish...”

“We will never be friends, Rupert,” Ethan said firmly. “I shall expire with jealousy if you so much as bid him good morning and fret myself into a green melancholy if you but say his name.”

“Oh, but that’s – You are joking,” Giles discovered. “Ethan, you are the most tiresome, troublesome wretch and –”

“Yes?” Ethan drawled, propping himself up on an elbow and smiling down into Giles’ face. “Do recite my attributes, my sweet – and I pray you, do not leave off the choicer epithets.”

“ – and I love you,” Giles finished.

“Which speaks volumes for your lack of sense,” Ethan said, unable to quite hide a smile. He tilted his head. “And the stealthy audience returns. Deal with them as you see fit, Rupert.”

“Thank you for the permission,” Giles said wryly, snatching up his robe and tossing Ethan his shirt as he strode towards the door.

He opened it, swept a glance over three concerned faces and said briskly, “We have, ah, settled our differences.”

Spike grinned. “We thought as much.”

“Spike,” Giles began. “There is no need –”

“But I’m sure you have more problems to iron out,” Wesley said softly, with a quizzical smile.

“And we’ll entertain ourselves and be on our way at first light,” Angel added, sounding relieved.

“Oh, I hope you’ll make it a little later than that, “Ethan said, appearing at Giles’s shoulder, clad in the bare amount decency allowed. “I was never an early riser, but I would take it amiss were you not to break your fast with me.”

Angel’s eyes shifted between them both and a rare smile lit his face. “I think we could do that.”

“He’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about you seducing Wesley, isn’t he?” Ethan murmured wickedly as he drew Giles into his arms before the door had closed.

“No,” Giles said. “But he might be glad I did when all this is over. Wesley was...well, let us say he’s benefited from riding to rescue me.”

“Someday when I too too exhausted to do more than lie content within your arms, you must tell me that story,” Ethan said. “It will doubtless brighten my old age. For now – ”

“Yes?” Giles said, allowing himself to be drawn back to the rumpled bed and stripped of his robe.

“I find myself recalling more with each passing moment, “Ethan mused. “The night of Lady Catherington’s ball for instance. The one we never reached because by the time I’d convinced you the dark green coat went not with the cream waistcoat, dawn had come and the party was over.”

Giles felt his breath catch even as he smiled. “Ethan, you well nigh killed me that night.”

Ethan reached out and picked up the two cravats, testing them with a slow tug. “Perhaps you have learned how to remain still in the years since then.”

“I doubt it,” Giles said.

“Good,” Ethan said. “It’s much more entertaining that way.”

Giles ran his hand down Ethan’s arm slowly. “Kiss me first,” he said softly, “and I’ll be as disobedient as you wish.”

The cravats slid forgotten to the floor as Ethan took his mouth in a hu, po, possessive kiss.

***

Giles glanced around the breakfast table, watching Ethan charm conversation and smiles from his guests. Ethan was never at his best in the morning – though it lacked but minutes to noon, so late had they all arisen – but he seemed determined to leave a good impression, and Spike and Angel seemed willing to let him. Only Wesley seemed ill at ease, though the looks he exchanged with his lovers were tender enough to reassure Giles that no lasting harm had been done them in their attempts to rescue him. It came as no surprise to see Wesley draw Ethan aside later on, with Spike engaging Giles in a flood of inconsequential gossip that flowed unchecked until Giles said quietly, “You wanted him to speak to Ethan; why?”

“He wishes to be certain Ethan bears no ill will,” Angel said, easily enough that Giles guessed he had expected the question. Angel’s eyes travelled to Wesley, softening as they watched him throw back his head and laugh at a comment Ethan had murmured in his ear. “I would say he is certain.”

“Share the joke, Wesley,” Spike called out, smiling himself as Wesley turned towards them.

“Ethan has invited us to stay with him sometime,” Wesley said, walking back to them. “And – oh, I vow, ‘tis beyond anything – he has my book!”

After exchanging identical glances of bewilderment, Angel and Spike looked their question. Giles took pity on them, knowing at once what Wesley must mean. “The book your father took from you?” he said. “I had thought it destroyed?”

His mind went to the niWeslWesley had told him of the book, youthful face set in stern, unforgiving lines, as he recounted the tale of the volume, handed down to him in his grandmother’s will; of no great value perhaps, but precious to him. It had been confiscated as punishment for some small misdeed and Wesley had been told later that it had been burned to teach him a lesson.

“I spoke of a house party,” Ethan said, his face gentler than was his wont. “Your father told us of the book, brandishing it around and chuckling as he recalled your tears. It was a book I had a fancy for and as he went to toss it into the flames, I caught it up and offered to play him for it at a hand of cards.”

“You won, then?” Spike said. “Well played!”

“I lost, if truth be told,” Ethan shrugged, “but as I dislike that intensely, most especially when something is dear to me –” His eyes rested on Giles for a long moment, a smile lighting their depths, “I rearranged the odds a trifle. ‘Twas in a good cause after all.”

“You cheated?” Angel said dubiously. It was an admission no gentleman would make. He glanced at Wesley’s face, glowing with happiness, and shrugged. “What of it? Aye, we’ll visit you gladly and let Wesley collect it from you.” He turned to Giles. “And will we see you again soon?”

“If you visit me, you will most assuredly see Giles,” Ethan said.

Giles smiled up at him lovingly. “It will be unavoidable,” he said.

“I had forgot – this is no longer your home,” Wesley said. “And I do not suppose you will wish to return to Oxford...”

“Indeed he will not,” Ethan said firmly. “Enough time has been wasted there.”

“Well,” said Angel, standing up with more reluctance than Giles had expected and leading the way into the hall, “if we’re to leave, we should –”

“I hear a horse,” Spike interrupted. “Are you expecting anyone, Giles?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Giles said. Discarding ceremony, he swung open the front door and watched the approach of a horse, cantering across the grass towards the house.

A tall figure dismounted and strode towards them, smiling a welcome. “What’s this, Giles?” he called. “I leave you alone so you might have the peace you longed for and I return to finpartparty, while I’ve been enduring whist games with Anne’s aunts and the most tedious conversation imaginable!”

Giles opened his mouth to explain the events of the last few days and found himself lost for words. “Welcome home, Alexander,” he said finally, “do let me introduce you, but really, you’ve missed nothing.” He looked at the four men behind him and gave them a warning glance as they dissolved into helpless laughter. “It’s been very dull with you away. Tell me, how did you leave Anne? Well, I trust...”

The End