Page 17 of Thomas
Cameron shrugged. “Why not?”
“Well, again, it’s a name from out of nowhere. He went off to university a few years ago, but no one has heard from him or seen him socializing within the aristocracy in forever. You must have some reason for plucking him out of obscurity andespousinghim—as particular as you are, mind you. I want to know why.”
This was a tender point for Cameron, and he really, really didn’t want to think about it. He brushed over it as quickly as possible. “I saw him at a party once and found him interesting. That’s it.”
Rachelle’s eyes widened. “Wait… I do remember that. You asked me about him—at the Havenwrath winter solstice party, right?”
“Yes. So?”
“So, I remember because younoticedhim and asked me for his name. This was remarkable, big brother, because your typical behavior is to ignore everyone and not know anyone’s name.”
Cameron was barely coping with feeling mortified and idiotic over the whole ordeal. He didn’t want to talk about it. He could not. He waved a hand. “You’re exaggerating. Anyway, I wasn’t plotting to ensnare him. I saw him at a party recently and decided I would make an inquiry to his family estate for the purpose of getting you and our parents off my back. It worked out and he’s in agreement with our arrangement.”
“Which is?” Rachelle stopped pacing, her full attention focused on Cameron once more. “Are you planning any celebratory events? A wedding? Or maybe a ball? Will you honestly attempt to mate with him?—”
“No, to everything. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“It’s my business when the tea master has asked me if there’s a ceremony planned so he can properly congratulate you,” Rachelle reasoned. “Many of Upper Avalon’s residents will want to celebrate their favored lord’s marriage?—”
“No.” Cameron eyed her firmly, his brow furrowed. There was no way he was giving in to this. First, because Thomas hadn’t even consented to this arrangement. Cameron had made so many assumptions, and all of them were dead wrong. Second, because he’d done what they’d asked. He had a partner, and that should have been enough. He would not subject himself to a boisterous party where he’d be the center of attention. It sounded like a nightmare.
Rachelle sighed. “So, let me get this straight. You have a bonding contract with this young man—Sir Thomas Antony Blakeley—and he has happily agreed to your stringent terms? A sexless, fruitless union with you, a generous and, frankly, physically arresting man, with no party or celebratory events to boot?”
“Yes,” Cameron said, “he has.”Happilywas a stretch. Nothing about Thomas outwardly suggested such an emotion.
This reminded him, though. He needed to reassure Thomas about sex. It hadn’t felt appropriate to bring it up right away, especially after they’d gotten off to a rocky start (Cameron’s fault, in every incomprehensible way).
He should discuss it with Thomas soon. Maybe at dinner tonight?
“I know we were pressuring you,” Rachelle began softly, “but I was hoping that maybe… you would take this opportunityto finally do something for yourself.” She stared at Cameron, waiting.
Cameron frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Ugh, Cam! It means you’re always so buried underneath all your responsibilities and tasks for the estate and the realm—and even looking out for me. Always doing this and that for everyone else. I’d hoped this mating contract would be something you could choose… selfishly, and be happy.”
Cameron balked, incensed. “Selfishly? That sounds horrible. And Iwashappy until our parents threatened to disinherit me if I didn’t get married!”
“Cameron—”
“I was also happy making all manner of choices for myself. I chose to separate the upper and lower libraries. I chose the new stone for the garden walkways, and I chose to turn the attic into a cocktail space?—”
“Renovation decisions don’t count, you stubborn mule, because it’s still a responsibility. You’re still managing the upkeep of the estate.”
“It counts for me.” Cameron really didn’t need this today. None of it. “The issue here is that my definition of ‘happy’ doesn’t match yours, our parents’ or the ideals of the aristocracy. Now I’ve yielded and conformed to everyone’s demands, and yet I’m still being yelled at, because I didn’t conform in therightway.”
Rachelle stood there for several beats, not speaking, but Cameron refused to break the silence. Eventually, she sighed. “I hear you, Cam. I apologize for freaking out.”
“It’s not helpful.”
“Okay, I get it. I am sorry… Will you introduce me to him? He is here, yes? I sense his presence.”
Cameron stood from the desk and rolled his shoulders. “He’s here. Probably in the library.”
“Doyousense him at all? Intimately, I mean. Does he have a unique scent for you?”
He paused, eyeing her. “No.” He walked around the desk, resisting the urge to tell her to mind her own damn business again.
“Maybe in time?” She smirked, following at his side. “You chose him, after all. Perhaps deep down, this decision was a little bit selfish? Yourememberedthis man.”
