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London, April, 1814
Evan Buckley has nothing against the idea of marriage as a whole. In fact, he rather thinks he would like to be married someday.
The problem with his impending marriage was that he had not chosen it for himself.
Quite content to continue focusing on his studies and his dalliances, Buck, as he was known to his young gentleman friends, had thought in a year, two, maybe three, he would commit himself to finding a suitable wife.
What a suitable wife meant was something he had yet to figure out.
He knew what his parents thought it was- a respectable young lady of impeccable breeding, who was well educated and capable. Wealth and beauty were nice accoutrements but not required.
Buck just wanted someone he would enjoy talking to. Someone who would actually like to listening to him talk about his tinkerings, care about the latest watch gearings he had perfected, be interested in the books he found about the world at large.
His parents had decided he had dallied long enough though. He was to find a wife this season, or he would be cut off from his allowance.
He suspected the impetus for the deadline was the upcoming wedding of Maddie, and her new fiance, a successful lawyer named Howard Han, whom she had met while living in the countryside, avoiding society after her scandalous divorce from the Duke Kendall.
There was nothing scandalous about it in Buck's mind. The man had been a monster who isolated her from her family and friends, and physically and mentally abused her for years. Once Maddie had gathered the courage, she had gone to the queen for an annullment.
The queen, sometimes controversial, but always logical, had listened to Maddie's plea and granted her an immediate divorce and protection, housing her in the palace while Duke Kendall was dealt with.
The two had grown quite close- Queen Athena had also had a marriage dissolved for religious reasons and thoroughly supported women who wanted out of unhappy or dangerous situations.
Duke Kendall had been stripped of his title and lands immediately and they had been passed to a cousin.
Though it was all completely sanctioned by the crown, people talked. Maddie withstood the whispers as long as she could, but eventually she needed to get away, to relax, and relearn who she was, free from Douglas Kendall's treacherous clutches.
She went to the country estate of a family friend, far north in Scotland. She sent Buck frequent letters, telling him, shortly at first, then in more depth as she recovered, about her life there, the friends she was making, and eventually, of her meeting with Howard and their slow courtship.
Once he had proposed, she announced the engagement to their parents, who absolutely insisted upon a wedding back in London.
It wouldn't do, they said, to have Madeline (as they insisted upon calling her still) get married without her family around her.
Buck had suggested that they travel to Scotland for the wedding, but his mother had shuddered as if he had suggested they hold the wedding in a brothel.
As luck would have it, Howard was actually from London originally and had no issues returning. He had been visiting Scotland at a friend's request to complete some contracts for him, and had decided to stay once he met Maddie. His friend, in fact, was a member of the peerage, eccentric and isolationist, but he still kept a home in London and would be happy to host Howard while they planned the wedding.
Lord Phillip and Lady Margaret were not pleased with their daughter's new choice in husband. He was not of the peerage, for one thing. Really, it seemed that was most of it.
So Buck figured their ultimatum for him was a result of trying to reseize control of their legacy. Maddie was free to marry who she wanted; she would never inherit. But they didn't want Buck to get any wild ideas that he had the same freedom. He would marry a gentlewoman and carry on the Buckley line properly.
So here he finds himself, at the opening ball of the season, dancing endlessly with every eligible young woman of the ton.
"Ah, Buck, there you are!" Howard finds him as he exits the dance floor, trying to tactfully disengage himself from the oldest daughter of Lord Kelly. "Come with me, I have someone to introduce you to."
"Of course, if you'll excuse me." He bows to Miss Kelly and takes the proffered escape.
"Thank you," he tells Howard, as soon as they are out of earshot. "She is a beautiful woman but far more suited to your profession than the peerage." He thinks of the tactful, yet probing questions she had asked about his estate, about Maddie, about Doug. He hadn't even realized how much he had revealed until he walked away. "Or perhaps as a bloodhound. I think she would have quite liked tearing me apart with her teeth."
Howard laughs. "I am not entirely convinced you are as opposed to that idea as you should be."
Buck shrugs. "She would make an exciting partner, but I doubt she is the type of gentlewoman my parents would deem acceptable."
He gets a firm slap on the back. "You are a brave one, Mister Buckley. Ah here we are!"
He brings them to the very edge of the ballroom. "Tommy! Here, come, meet my furture brother-in-law." He gestures to a tall man Buck doesn't recognize- well formed, he stands as tall as Buck himself, with deep blue eyes and strong jaw, a cleft dimpling the middle.
Howard gestures between the two. "Mister Evan Buckley, may I introduce you to Duke Thomas Kinard? My generous host in the city."
"Ah, the elusive Duke Kinard!" They shake hands, Kinard's encompassing his nearly entirely. They're calloused as well, in a way noble men's rarely are. They speak of hard work, manual labor. It's intriguing. "It's so good to finally meet you- Maddie and Howard both speak so highly of you."
Duke Kinard laughs- it's a warm, friendly sound. "Well, Howie has always had questionable taste. I would not dream of insulting your sister in such a manner, so I must concede and accept at least part of the compliment." He releases Buck's hand and it feels cold. Buck flexes his fingers as he lets go. "Please though, Mister Buckley, I insist, call me Tommy."
"Only if you call me Evan," Buck returns. "Though you may not be the one marrying into the family, I know you are as good as kin to Howard, and without you, my sister would not be happier than I have seen her in years. So please, Evan."
Tommy smiles. "Evan it is, then."
"Tell me about yourself, Tommy. I never know what to believe when this one gets going." He waves a hand at Howie. "He tells such tall tales."
"Surely not so tall," Tommy says. "He can't reach that high."
Howie elbows him, and Tommy grunts. "Har har. I find myself lost amidst a sea of great lumbering oafs."
"Perhaps you should have eaten your vegetables as a child and you too would be a great lumbering oaf," Tommy teases.
"I, good sir, would never be an oaf at any size. Now, tell Buck of your great deeds and prove that I am not a liar."
Buck nods. "Please do. Have you really flown a balloon?"
"Many times," Tommy tells him. "I enjoy flying very much. If I could, I think I would live in a balloon."
"Is your balloon in Scotland? Would it be very difficult to get it here? I'd love to see it. Can you fly it anywhere?"
Tommy laughs. "It is indeed in Scotland. I wasn't sure how long I would stay in the city, but I could have it sent here very easily. It can, theoretically, go anywhere, though the best conditions are a clear, breezy day over the countryside. We'd need a horse and carriage to follow us to return us home at the end of the journey, and another with a wagon for the balloon."
"I should be very interested in that, if it's not too much trouble to arrange," Buck says eagerly.
"I will make it so. Now tell me of yourself- I hear you are seeking a wife?"
The scoff escapes him before he can help it. "Seeking would imply I am doing it of my own free will. I have been set an imperative."
"Ah, that day comes for every young lordling. The Buckleys are well regarded, and you cut quite a dashing figure. Surely you will have your choice of the beautiful young ladies here tonight."
"I'm sure I would, and I am sure they are quite lovely. I simply do not know how I am to choose a partner for the rest of my life under such duress." He looks at Tommy, curious. "How did you know, when you took a wife, that she was the right choice?"
Tommy winces. "I suppose I have misled you- I never married, myself."
"Your parents never forced your hand?"
"My mother wanted me to marry for love, that I recall. She died when I was young. My father might have dictated a spouse at some point, but thankfully he died early as well." Tommy doesn't sound regretful in the slightest about his father's end.
Buck wonders at that. As much as he argues with his own parents, he could never imagine speaking ill of them so lightly. Tommy's father must have indeed been a terrible man.
"I'm sorry for your loss- at least, your mother," Buck offers, unsure.
"Thank you- I apologize, I am unused to polite company and have let my tongue run away from me. Ignore me." His grimace makes Buck smile.
"You are not so uncouth. And if I ignore you, how am I ever to find out more about flying? Or Scotland! I've never been myself, but Maddie tells me it's beautiful."
Howard bows, a bit facetiously. "I shall leave you here- I brought home the most beautiful thing Scotland had to offer and I wish to never speak of the dreadful place again."
He disappears into the crowd, leaving the two of them behind.
"I fear I am not quite sure how to take my future brother in law yet," Buck admits. "I can tell he loves Maddie deeply, and that is quite enough for me, but his humor is rather…"
"Acerbic?" Tommy says. "He is a lawyer, after all. But he has a very good heart. He'd rather throw himself on a sword than cause your sister a moment of distress."
"I believe it. And I've enjoyed getting to know him this past month. I hope I can soon say the same about you- you must join us for cards, so we can get better acquainted."
Tommy smiles. "I would love to. Send me a note with time and place."
Buck spots his mother across the ballroom, glaring at him, and sighs. "It appears I have used up my free time, and must get back to the hunt. I'll write to you soon," He promises.
"Good hunting, young Mister Buckley." Tommy bows him off and disappears into the crowd.
Buck finds himself missing the older man's company almost immediately. Not just that he's now seeking out the next young lady he promised a dance to, resigned to making small talk in the hopes of figuring out if he can make himself a satisfactory match.
But also that Thomas Kinard had been interesting in a way he hadn't found in some in London for quite some time.
He truly hopes they can meet again soon.
May
The wedding of Miss Madeline Buckley and Mister Howard Han happens on a beautiful Sunday in May.
Buck will deny it to anyone who asks, but he bawls like a baby when they exchange their vows. The only person crying harder than him is Howie. They chose the small church near to the Buckley Manor, where Maddie and Buck had been taken as children.
Queen Athena and Prince Robert were in quiet attendance, deferring attention to the happy couple as much as possible.
At the recessional, Maddie stops to thank the queen. Athena kisses her on both cheeks and gives her a simple command. "Be happy together."
The reception is a raucous affair. The queen and prince depart after the wedding, and the rest of the group goes back to Buckley Manor for dinner and drinks and dancing.
Buck finds himself seated with Tommy, and the sisters Henrietta and Karen Wilson, old friends of Howie's, and apparently, Tommy.
"How did you all meet?" Buck questions, after the third outlandish tale he hears about the old friends, told by a fond Karen. "And why did you never partake in their hijinks?" This last is directed at Karen.
"I am learned woman and do not have time for silly hijinks," Karen tells him haughtily, taking a prim sip of her wine.
"The only time she was involved we were nearly carted off by the bailey," Hen says. "So now she is left at home whenever there may be hijinks afoot."
Karen gasps. "This is a betrayal of the highest order!"
Tommy and Hen laugh, and Karen fakes a pout.
"So how did you all meet then?" Buck asks again, when the laughter has died down.
"I suppose the blame can be laid at Howie's feet, though it was really my own problem that required his help," Tommy says. "I needed a lawyer. You see, I had this tenant who was asbsolutely destroying my property-"
"And I still say destroying is a strong word," Karen interjects. "The workshop still stands to this day."
"-who was heavily modifying the property, without my consent and I needed to know my avenues of recourse," Tommy continues, unperturbed. "So I hired our dear Mister Han, and what does he do but befriend the tenant and come to me to plead her case."
"It was ground breaking research."
"And of course, once I heard of this ground breaking research I had to see for myself, and what can I say? It really was quite impressive. So I ceased to be her landlord and instead became her patron."
"What's the subject of your research?" Buck asks eagerly. "I only dabble in the sciences myself."
"Mechanics- I was working on a new method for draining the locks along the Thames much quicker. Lord Thomas is being modest- he not only became my patron, but brought my work to the attention of the House of Commons, who will be implementing my new design all along the river over the next ten years." Another person might have gloated, flaunted their brilliance. Karen just stated this as if she were discussing the morning news.
Hen beams with pride for her sister. "Chimney-" She uses the nickname for Howie. Buck hasn't been able to pry the origin out of anyone yet. "-has never ceased taking credit for that. Or for my success, as a matter of fact."
Tommy cuts a sharp glance at Buck, and Hen bites back whatever she was going to say next.
"What?" Buck asks.
Hen demures. "Nothing. I only meant that my sister wrote to me of her success here in London thanks to Chimney and Lord Thomas and convinced me to join her here. Chimney arranged the rent of my shop next to Karen's workshop."
"I see. You must feel very fortunate to live so closely to your sister. You seem very close."
Hen raises her eyebrows and shares a brief glance with Tommy. "We are indeed. Though you also seem close with your sister."
Buck beams. "I'm so happy she's back in London. I missed her terribly while she was in Scotland, though I'm glad she found what she needed there. And a bit more than she expected."
They all seek out the happy couple, seated at the place of honor and deep in conversation with each other.
"I should say the relationships are quite dissimilar though, other than the care for one another," he continues.
"What do you mean?" Tommy asks. He has a shrewdly considering look.
"Oh, only that it must be different. Maddie and I are so far apart in age, and tastes. She was married when I was just a boy. You two have the benefit of being so close in age, and sharing a home still, being unwed."
He realizes how that could be taken, belatedly. "Not that I mean to comment on your marital status. I know that not everyone seeks to take a spouse, for many reasons."
Hen hums. "Many reasons indeed. And what are your reasons for not taking a spouse, Mister Buckley?"
Buck sighs. "You have heard of my plight then?"
The pair nod.
"I suppose I have no issues taking a wife, in theory. I think my issue is the selection. I fear I would be far happier with either of you as a wife, than any of the suitable women my parents have designated for me."
Karen laughs. "And what makes us more interesting to you?"
"You have passions, and desires, outside what is considered acceptable. All the women of the peerage will talk about with me is their desire to decorate a home, or to entertain guests, or their latest needlework project." He frowns. "Not that those are unacceptable hobbies, that's not what I mean to say. It just feels as though those are the things they think men want women to enjoy, so they won't broach any other topics for fear of being thought odd or undesirable."
He thinks of Taylor and amends. "And the gossip. It feels as though my every move is under a microscope for those digging for something. Hints that my sister is unhappy. Details about her friendship with the queen." He shrugs. "It's all so… transactional in the upper class."
"I won't lie and say that common women aren't also held to certain… ideals with regards to their interests," Karen says. "Lord knows I have found considerable resistance along my path. But I do think the nobility make it especially hard on everyone."
Tommy snorts. "That's an understatement."
Buck droops. "Not that my parents would ever approve, but I don't suppose either of you are in the market for a husband?" he asks, looking beseechingly between Hen and Karen.
Hen laughs outright. "You are barking up quite the wrong tree, Mister Buckley. But we do wish you well."
The pair are called away by Howie at that moment, and Buck watches them go.
"I really would like to see Karen's workshop." Buck tells Tommy. "And Hen's apothecary, though medicine has never interested me as much. They really are quite fortunate."
"They are," he agrees. He stops a passing waiter and gets them new flutes of champagne, passing one to Buck. It must be warmer than Buck thought- he feels a jolt when Tommy's hand brushes his.
Tommy continues, "I'm sure Karen wouldn't mind a visit from you, nor Hen. Though Karen does get rather caught up in her work."
"I understand that all too well," Buck says. He'd recently found a book from a man who had traveled the western part of America, spending a lot of time in the Rocky Mountain range. He'd been so consumed by the depiction of the wild mountains he'd lost all track of time, and nearly missed a dinner with some of his parents' friends.
They, of course, thought he was just trying to duck the dinner- a poorly disguised attempt to set him up with the family's visiting niece. A pretty enough girl, and nice, though so timid Buck had trouble hearing her speak over the clinking of the silverware.
"We should visit together," Buck proposes. "I worry about being invasive, when I don't know them that well. And you can let me know if I am overstaying my welcome. I admit I can not always tell."
Tommy laughs. "We can do that. I'll set it up with them. I suspect they should rather like having another friend who is such a… kindred spirit."
Again, there is a layer to his voice that Buck doesn't understand, but he finds intriguing, alluring.
"I should hope I can be that, at the very least," He agrees.
They make quick plans for several days that will work for both of them, and Tommy promises to write to Karen and see when she will be available.
Buck regretfully separates from Tommy after that and goes to mingle and dance some more, though his thoughts are on the fantastical designs Karen talked about and, strangely enough, wondering how soon he'll get to see Tommy again.
June
Despite his best efforts over the past few months, Buck finds himself unable to make any headway as a serious suitor. The women he is interested in seem to find him acceptable until he starts to speak of his interests, at which point they slowly draw away, usually herded off by their mothers when he begins to talk about clockwork mechanisms or the latest book he read about insects in the far reaches of Europe.
The ones who don't mind those lines of conversation have little to converse about except how beautiful Buckley Manor seems from outside and how well dressed he is.
Those he usually finds his own escape from. He knows his family is wealthy and influential, but he wishes those seeking him only for his status could at least hide the gleam in their eye when he speaks of the gallery at Buckley Manor or the gardens at their country estates.
Still, he is trying, despite his parents' attitudes.
So, he goes to balls and outings, and dances and chatters about inane subjects, and tries not to bore the life out of his guests and to not be bored to tears in return.
The bright light is the company of one Thomas Kinard. He and Howie have quickly become very good friends to Buck, and indeed to many in his circle.
So good, in fact, that Buck feels a little jealous at how popular Tommy is. Howie is popular as well, though Buck knows he'll have plenty of time to get to know his new brother-in-law. Tommy could decide to return to Scotland at any time.
Tommy's social calendar has been quite full since his abrupt return to London, and Buck finds himself wishing often that he could talk with him in quieter settings.
So he feels a little giddy at Tommy inviting him ,and him alone, to the luxurious Kinard estate.
It's a warm day, and Buck rides to the stately manor. It's on the southwest corner of May Fair, sharing the corner with Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace and it is an impressive estate.
Tommy meets him on the steps as he dismounts, handing his horse off to a servant.
"The balloon's arrived!" he says as he comes out.
"It has? Can I see it? When did it arrive? When can we go up?"
Tommy laughs. "It arrived just this morning. I sent the invitation as soon as it came. I knew you would be excited to see it. Come on, it's by the stables."
He leads Buck around the side of the house, down the drive. A large wagon is parked beside a beautiful fountain, burbling happy. Buck would very much like to explore the grounds at some point, but right now his attention is on the wagon.
His sense of propriety abandoned in the face of his curiousity, he climbs eagerly onto the wagon, surveying the contents.
"Careful," Tommy warns. "The cobble's a little loose just there."
"Wow."
The contents of the wagon aren't all that riveting- a large wicker basket on its side, strapped down atop a folded pile of canvas- but Buck can't help but see the potential. Flight. Tommy has delivered flight to his doorstep and he's going to share it with Buck.
"I suppose the first flight will be quite an affair."
Tommy shakes his head. "I've arranged for the first flight to be just the two of us."
"You did?" Something warm simmers to life in Buck's chest at the idea that Tommy might value their private time as dearly as he does.
"Of course. With how you've hounded me about it, I daresay if I offered the inaugural honors to anyone else, you might tip them over the basket edge while we were at altitude."
Buck flushes. "I didn't mean to hound." He's sensitive to such comments, fresh off another polite dismissal- he'd thought things were going quite with the Lady Ali Martin, but when he called on her the previous afternoon, she had told him kindly but firmly that she was not interested in pursuing a courtship. Something about his passions and hers being ill-suited for a coupling.
He hates to think Tommy might also find him and his passions… too much.
"I only jest. Your enthusiasm has been more than welcome, Evan. I think so often of flying myself that being to talk about it with you has been a delight."
"Really?" Buck asks.
"Really." Tommy's smile is warm, and Buck finds himself returning it.
"So, when can we go up?" He goes to step down from the wagon, but misjudges the distance. His other foot slips on the step and he lands crooked, on one of the loose cobblestones.
"Whoa!" Tommy reaches for him, but it's too late- he goes backwards right into the fountain. A mighty splash, and he's completely soaked.
"Ah, rats." He knows it's a waste, but he still strips hurriedly out of his jacket and vest as though he might be dry underneath. He's unbuttoning his shirt when Tommy makes a noise, and Buck looks up.
Tommy's face is rather flushed, and he's staring hard at Buck's chest, right where the buttons on his shirt stop.
Glancing at himself, Buck realizes how he looks. Sopping wet, his shirt is practically translucent. His pants are clinging to his legs almost lewdly. And he's mostly undressed in the very public courtyard where servants are still coming and going.
"Oh! Good heavens, what am I doing, I'm going nude in the street. I should-" He jumps out of the fountain, dripping water in rivets onto the pavers.
"Let me!" Tommy starts forward, then stops, looking a little panicked. And Buck understands. If a guest started disrobing in the courtyard at Buckley Manor, he would react similarly.
"That is," Tommy continues, looking anywhere but at Buck. "Come inside, Evan, and get yourself dried off. I'll fetch you a change of clothes."
"Are you sure? I'd hate to drip on your floors. I can just ride home."
"You'll chafe yourself to death, riding like that. Come, I'll have the footman grab you some drying cloths."
He leads Buck into the side door, waving down a passing servant, who scurries off to collect the linens.
The house looks grand- understated elegance dripping from every corner of the room. And this is just a side hall. He can only imagine what the grand ballroom looks like, or the dining room. He wants to explore every inch.
The servant returns before he has a chance to wander off, and Tommy shows Buck to the coat room. "You can get undressed here. Just leave your things on the bench there. I'll have them laundered. I'll go get you some dry things to wear. Lucky we are of a size."
He disappears before Buck can say thank you, the door closing softly but firmly behind him.
Buck strips down to the skin, piling his wet things on the bench as instructed. He rubs himself vigourously with the drying cloths, trying not to shiver. It was a warmish day, but the water in the fountain was in the shade.
"Evan?" There's a soft knock on the door. He wraps a towel around his waist and opens the door.
Tommy's gaze darts down to his chest, then meets Buck's eyes fleetingly, drops to the edge of the cloth, up to his eyes again, and then to a corner of the room.
Buck flushes in embarassment. "Thank you, I'll just," he takes the bundle of clothes Tommy offers him. "I'll be out in a moment."
He dresses quickly. There are no small clothes, so he does up the buttons on the pants, tucking the plain white shirt into them. There's no jacket, just a vest to maintain some air of propriety. He buttons it up, noticing how it's a little loose on him. He and Tommy are of a height with each other, but the other man is so broad.
The trousers are a little short in the leg, but they'll suffice for the trip home.
He leaves the coat room to find Tommy waiting in the entrance hall.
"If you can give me a basket, I'll take my clothes home. I'd hate to put you out for the laundering."
"Nonsense," Tommy says, his sharp eyes examining the way the vest falls on Buck's chest. "You'll need to come back to plan our trip to the country side."
"Our trip?" Buck asks.
Tommy grins. "Well, of course. We can hardly fly the balloon over London. Can you imagine the ruckus we'd cause if we had to land in Picadilly? We'll go to my country estate in Burgess Hill."
"So I haven't made too much of a fool of myself?" Buck asks, ducking his head a little.
"Of course not. I've been meaning to replace those loose cobbles since I got back to London. Today just proves I have been running a slipshod household."
Buck smiles. Tommy always knows how to put him at ease. At home, he would have been berated, not just for being clumsy, but for making a spectacle of himself. With Tommy, he feels at ease, comfortable, even despite his mistakes.
"Would it be too much to ask for a tour of the house when I visit next?" Buck asks. "Unkempt cobblestones aside, the grounds look beautiful, and what I can see of the house is marvelous."
"I'll gladly give you a tour. I have a feeling you might particularly enjoy the library." A servant appears with a wicker basket and gathers Buck's wet things, disappearing with a quiet thank you from Tommy.
"You have a library?"
"Yes. Quite an extensive one. I'd love to show you now, but I do need to attend to the balloon before it gets dark. I'd hate to rush you out." Tommy sounds genuinely apologetic.
Buck is ecstatic at the thought. And at the idea that Tommy will invite him over again, him alone. They'll be planning a whole trip for just them.
"I'm busy tomorrow," Tommy says, "but how does Saturday sound?"
"Saturday is perfect," Buck assures him. He technically has a tea time with another young woman his parents have chosen, but he'd spoken to her at a party earlier in the month and she'd called him an eccentric to her friends as soon as she thought he was gone. He'll send a note claiming sickness after he leaves the house, and they'll both be better off for it.
"Then I'll let you get home, and I'll see you Saturday."
They've drifted closer together while speaking, and Buck finds it hard to break away. Tommy is so magnetic. Buck never wants to leave. But uncouth though he may be considered, he doesn't want to overstay his welcome.
"Saturday," He repeats again, backing towards the door.
He leaves before he makes an utter fool of himself - again- and asks for his horse once he's outside. He adjusts the collar of his borrowed shirt. It's been laundered, of course, but he can smell the cologne Tommy wears on the collar. Earthy and sharp, it reminds him of the forest. He wonders if it makes Tommy think of the Scottish highlands.
He rides home, already daydreaming about Saturday and the mysterious library.
"Evan." His mother cuts him off mid sentence, setting down her silverware imperiously. Their breakfast had been quite pleasant until that moment, he thought.
"Yes, mother?"
"How is that at home you can talk this much, but we set you upon society and you find yourself incapable of speaking to a woman? It has been months and you are no closer to finding an engagement."
Buck stares down at his plate, suddenly fighting back tears.
"I-"
"I believe you are trying to make fools of us, but make no mistake. We will cut you off if you do not marry."
Buck sets down his silverware. "I'm not trying-"
His father scoffs. "Clearly you are not trying, or you would be making progress. Instead, you cavort around town with your brother in law and his recluse friend, ignoring our orders. I know you weren't born a first son, so the urgency escapes you, but your mother and I aren't getting any younger, and we need to be sure the Buckley name will be well taken care of."
"I'm only twenty-seven. You two didn't get married until father was thirty-one. What is the urgency?" He asks.
"Your sister remarrying has moved up the timeline. Howard is nice enough, but should the unthinkable happen, Maddie needs to be taken care. She could have just remained a duchess, but now you will have to support her, and any of her children," Margaret tells him tartly.
"You would really rather she have stayed married to Kendall?"
"She didn't have to live with him. Plenty of wives go to the countryside to avoid ill mannered husbands," His father says dismissively.
He pushes back from the table, and walks out, ignoring their cries after him.
He loses track of time, lost in his thoughts, but eventually he finds himself outside Tommy's house, knocking on the door.
The footman lets him in and goes to inform Tommy.
"Evan! I wasn't expecting you today." Tommy enters with gusto, like he's excited to see Buck so soon, despite Buck making a fool of himself the last time he was here.
"Ah, yes, well I just needed some air. Thought I might ask after your library. If it's not too much trouble, of course. I know it's early."
Tommy smiles fondly. "Not at all. I just finished my breakfast and I have no plans for the day. Come on through."
He leads him to the back of the house, and stops in front of a set of ornately decorated double doors. There are carved figures of animals and folkloric figures traipsing around the mantel and jamb.
Tommy, melodramatic bastard that he is, just gestures for Buck to open the doors.
Buck rolls his eyes at him a little, but does so. To his chagrin, he actually can't help the soft gasp that he lets out upon seeing the room.
Two stories tall, it's set on the south of the house. Floor to ceiling windows let in shadowy morning light that must be perfect for reading in the afternoons, long into the evening hours.
The walls are lined with in built book cases, stuffed with books, scrolls, tomes. A landing circumvents the room, giving access to the upper levels.
The whole room is decked with tapestries and soft curtains, and the floor has a rich thick rug that softens the outside world, giving it a tranquil, secluded feeling. Sturdy tables and comfortable chairs are spread about the room, giving plenty of places to read or study.
Buck instantly knows he could lose himself in for hours, if not days, if only Tommy indulges him.
He goes to the first shelf inside the door, pulling out a book. It's an autobiography by a naval captain from the sixteen hundreds. He thumbs through it before reshelving it, moving on and on and on.
Each shelf had a little hammered brass plaque with a number and letter embossed.
He touches one, curious. Twelve J.
"A sorting system," Tommy says, watching him. "The library was founded by the first Duke Kinard, but my grandfather learned about the fixed position when he studied at Oxford, and made it an undertaking to reorganize the whole library. There's an index-"
He goes to one of the desks and opens a drawer. "Here," he says, gesturing Buck over.
The first page of the book has an architectural drawing of the whole library, separated into upper and lower, diagraming where each number shelf lies. Then, the rest is filled with an inventory of each book on the shelf.
They're sorted somewhat by category. Most of the handwriting is in faded quill ink, but as Buck flips through he notices fresher additions.
"Were these added later?" He points to several books in the darker ink. All about clockwork, machinery, things of that nature.
Tommy nodded. "Some additions I made when I was younger, before I moved to Scotland."
"Your father never added anything?" Buck asks, tracing a neatly looped curl in Tommy's handwriting.
"My father was not much of a scholar. He preferred the more material pleasures in life."
Buck flips the pages a little more. "You've… spoken of your father in such a manner before. Was he a bad man?"
Tommy sighs. "I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, and he has been dead longer than he I knew him alive. But yes, I do think he was a bad man."
"What did he do?"
"He… I think he always sensed there was something wrong with me. That I would never be the man he wanted me to be. He was cruel, and sometimes violent, and he was a drunk.
"I think he truly loved my mother- the only times I can remember him being genuinely kind and happy were before she died, when I was very young. After she died… there was just he and I."
Buck sets the book down and puts a hand on his shoulder, in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Tommy leans into it.
"Tommy, I'm so sorry you had to deal with that. You were a child. And even as an adult… I know if Kendall hadn't been dealt with, I would have taken drastic action as soon as his crimes came out. I can't imagine dealing with that firsthand."
Tommy smiles at him. "Thank you for saying that, Evan. I've long gotten over the worst of it, but well. Some things stay with us for our lives."
He turns to face Buck head on. "Now. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but would you like to talk about what really brought you here this morning?"
Buck fidgets with the book cover. "I think… I think I understand what you mean, about people being able to tell there is something wrong with you." He turns away, going to study a tapestry on the wall. He can hear Tommy move more slowly behind him, giving him space.
He says to the wall, because he can't say it directly to Tommy. "I fear my whole life I have been a disappointment to them. I'm not the son they wanted, I'm just the one that survived, and everything I do is just a reminder that I'll never be their first born.
"I shouldn't take it so personally- they've never approved of Maddie's choices either; first Kendall and now Howard, though the two couldn't be more different.
"But they at least talk to Maddie, let her speak her mind. I've always just been…. something they treated like a chore. A nuisance. And they've given me a simple task, something most people in my position find as easy as breathing and I can't do it. I've slept with dozens of women, why is finding one to love so damned difficult?"
His voice has taken on a slightly hysterical note, and he feels the warmth of Tommy behind him.
"I almost wed, did I tell you that?" Tommy says.
Buck sniffles, and straightens a book on the shelf, still not looking at the man.
"No. I didn't think you were ever interested."
Tommy hums. "I was young. A little younger than you, in fact. She was a widower, a little older, but respectable enough. We were good friends, and I thought- if I were to marry any woman, it would be her. So I courted her and I proposed. We were engaged. But I realized that I didn't love her, not truly. And I would never be able to. And we might have been happy enough anyway. But I couldn't do that to her, in the end. So I broke off the engagement, and then I went to Scotland."
"What happened to her?"
Tommy turns him gently by the shoulders. "She traveled to the continent and she met a wonderful man, an Earl or the equivalent, from somewhere in Germany, and they wed, and she's living there, more happily than she ever would have been here, with me."
"And you're still alone."
Tommy shrugs. "I've made my peace with that. I'm happy enough, with my balloon and my estate. I have friends, and I have things I enjoy, and I'm not making anyone else miserable to make myself feel… like I've done the expected thing."
Buck nods. "It sounds… lonely."
Tommy didn't have an answer for that. Buck gives him pity and changes the subject for both their sakes.
"So. When can we go to Burgess Hill and fly the balloon?"
Tommy happily takes the out and they set about planning their trip. When Buck leaves, hours later, he's… more settled, but also thinking a lot about Tommy, and about being settled versus being happy.
The morning of their flight dawns bright and crisp. There's a steady wind from the southeast that Tommy proclaims perfect.
They had traveled together the night before to the sprawling country estate Tommy held to the south of London.
Buck was unaccustomed to seeing dawn from this side. Normally, he only noticed the sun rise while stumbling home from a night of drinking. Still, his tiredness was worn away quickly by his excitement as he watched Tommy move confidently around the balloon, a small crew helping him prep for the flight.
Tommy moves so well for a man his size. Buck has had the thought before, watching him box. He's big, but fast, and incredibly aware of his body at all times.
Buck wonders if it's the boxing that gives him that quality or if it's something inate to Tommy.
He's distracted by the roar of the burner and the balloon slowly starting to fill before his eyes.
His exhale is awed- the canopy is a gorgeous patchwork of blues and greens, illuminated with the fiery glow of the burner. It lights up the canopy from within like a giant lantern.
It takes long enough to inflate the balloon that Buck's awe wears off enough for him to start drooping from lack of sleep.
One of the men helping offers him a thermos of coffee which he takes gratefully.
The canopy is massive- over two stories tall by the looks of it. Finally satisfied with his inspections, Tommy jogs over to Buck.
"All good?" Buck asks, finishing off the thermos, and setting it on the wagon.
"She's in good shape. If we go up again, this will go faster, but she's been in storage for a while so I wanted to give her a good look over, especially after the trip down."
Tommy's thoroughness and competence is impressive, and Buck says as much. The older man demures.
"It's nothing really. This can be dangerous, but only if you're reckless. And that's one thing I try not to be." He winks at Buck, who laughs.
"Don't worry, I think I bring enough recklessness for both of us."
"You're quite possibly the least reckless man I've ever met."
Buck goggles at him. Then laughs, although much more condescendingly. "You really must spend more time with my parents. They can't get enough of telling me how careless and reckless I am, in every aspect."
Tommy hums. "You're a bit impulsive, that can be true. But reckless? No. Careless? Certainly not. You have more care for other people in your little finger than most of our class do in their entire beings. Now come on-" He strides off towards the balloon. "I should like to be reckless at a great altitude."
Buck smiles at his feet before jogging to join him.
Tommy helps him climb over the wall of the basket. It's spacious enough for a handful of people, but today it will just be them. A footman brings over a basket with a packed lunch and some refreshments, which
Tommy joins him inside, making the move look practiced and easy, unlike Buck's hesitant crawl. He does one final check of the release vents and the burner and then casts of the mooring ropes, firing the burner in one long continuous roar.
They go up! More swiftly than Buck had imagined and he rushes to the edge to watch the field and the workers fall away below them.
"Magnificent!" he exclaims.
In short order the breeze catches them, pushing them to the north and west, smooth and steady.
Tommy keeps them in a climb until they've broken above the morning fog cover. The newly risen sun greets them, and Buck smiles into it.
"The view will clear up shortly once the fog burns off. This is great weather for a ride- it shouldn't get too hot."
Sure enough, after a mere half hour the landscape is clear and verdant. Buck leans as far over the side as he can, staring at the patchwork countryside. Everything is so small, he feels both massive and miniscule.
"Careful," Tommy cautions, when he tips farther out, tracking a farmer far below them, herding sheep from field to field. The sheep appear only as white cotton puffs, details indistinguishable.
Buck nods, and then goes right back to it. Tommy laughs, but allows him to look his fill.
Once he's soaked in as much of the view as he can, he begins to ask questions.
Tommy answer all of them, indulgent as ever.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Tommy asks a time later. They've finished their lunch, and Buck is back at the edge, watching the cottages and fields and streams of southern England pass by beneath, mesmerized.
"I don't think I've ever had a more enjoyable day in my life," he admits. "Though I've felt that way about many days since I've met you. You keep topping yourself."
"You're easy to want to impress." Tommy says, quietly.
"No one has thought so before."
"Then they're fools." He's standing right next to Buck at the rail, and Buck turns to face him.
"Thank you," He says earnestly. Tommy is so close. His eyes are as blue as the sky that surrounds him.
Buck didn't know. He never considered this as an option. But as Tommy leans in to him, he finds himself swaying forward, willing to take the chance.
Their lips meet, and the swooping sensation he felt when the balloon took off is back, but it's all due to Tommy this time.
Buck gasps in to the kiss, and then his hands are in Tommy's hair, grabbing his lapel, pulling him closer.
He never knew this was a thing he could want, could ask for, but as soon as he breathes Tommy in he knows it's something he had been looking for as long as he could remember.
They break apart, and Buck inhales, so deeply he feels his lungs might burst.
"That was alright?" Tommy asks into the shared air between them.
Buck has no words. He nods, diving back into to Tommy's mouth.
Tommy lets him, arms coming around Buck's waist, and mouth opening invitingly. They carry on like that for quite a while until Tommy eases them away gently.
"I still have to fly this thing," he says apologetically.
Buck jumps away. "Oh! Yeah, of course."
Tommy smiles. "You don't have go too far away. I just need to keep an eye on the weather. I see some cloud formations I want to watch."
"What about the clouds? What are you looking for?"
And just like that, they are back into discussion of the weather and the flight. The only difference is now when Tommy wants to point out the gathering of a thunderhead in the distance he moves Buck gently in the direction, hands warm on his shoulder.
"We'll land up ahead. I want to give us plenty of time to get the balloon packed away before that reaches us," He says. "Here, you can be in charge of the release vent."
"Really?"
"Of course. Just pull when I tell you to, and stop when I say. Easy enough."
They work together easily to bring the balloon down. Tommy keeps a hand on the small of Buck's back as he checks around them for clearance to land. When they're finally visible to the following wagon, he drifts away and Buck misses the contact.
He has no idea how he is going to be normal around Tommy now. He doesn't know what comes next.
Tommy uses a flag to signal something to Sal in the wagon and the three men run out ahead of them in the field.
"Okay, pull the vent and don't stop until we touch down," Tommy tells him, and Buck rushes to obey.
They come to a bumpy landing and the waiting men rush to toss them lines.
"Keep pulling, let as much out of the envelope as you can," Tommy tells him, tying the lines off efficiently.
The balloon deflates gradually and droops to lay across the field. Then it's a flurry of work- separating the basket from the balloon, getting the remaining air out of the envelope, folding the canvas so it fits back in the wagon.
They manage it just in time to hear the first peal of thunder.
They're separated on the ride back- Tommy joins the man on the wagon so he can keep an eye on the balloon, and Buck takes a spare horse the men had brought with them.
They don't have a chance to talk until after dinner. Tommy invites the men who helped up to the house for dinner and they're a lively crew, trading stories with Tommy, Buck and Sal and praising the food. It's a festive affair but doesn't afford them any private time.
"Come up to my rooms for a drink later?" Tommy asks, once they're leaving the dining room.
"Of course."
He spends a little time writing down an account of the days events. Well, the balloon ride anyway. Other events he will keep closer to his person. Then he changes out of his dinner clothes. Then he changes again. On the third wardrobe change he acknowledge he's being silly. Tommy has already kissed him, and seen him in all states. He won't care what he's wearing.
He's dallied long enough at any rate, so he goes to Tommy's private sitting room and knocks. The door opens immediately, as though Tommy had been waiting on the other side for him.
As soon as the door shuts, Tommy pulls him in for a quick kiss. Buck tries to draw it out, but Tommy laughs and steers him to a comfortable arm chair.
"I really did mean you to have a drink," Tommy says, ushering Buck to sit. He pours them both a few fingers of scotch. "And perhaps to talk a bit."
"Yes, I suppose that would be wise."
This time, the brushing of hands as they trade off the glass is intentional, and Buck lets the electric feel of Tommy's touch saturate him. The man has such large hands, even compared to Buck's. Strong, sturdy, and calloused from hard work. Buck wants to feel them on every inch of his body, but he clamps the thought down and takes a sip of his drink.
From Tommy's quirked brow and little smirk, he supposes the direction of his thoughts must be obvious.
Buck shifts self-consciously.
"Have you been with many men?" Tommy asks, clearly sensing that Buck doesn't know where to begin the conversation.
"None, in fact. I've never… you're my first."
"That's alright," Tommy assures him. "It took me quite a while to build up the courage myself. It's not an easy task."
"Oh, I meant. I didn't know."
"Didn't know…?" The tilt of Tommy's brow is considering, now, and Buck swallows, suddenly unsure. He's never felt that way with Tommy before and he hopes he isn't about to make a mess of things.
"I didn't know that I could want to be with a man. I'd never considered it before you kissed me."
"But you…" Tommy shakes his head. "No, I suppose that was my interpretation. But you're open to the idea?"
Buck nods hurriedly. "Very much so. I think that was the most invigorating kiss I've ever had. I'm certainly interested in exploring… more. Though I admit, I am not ignorant to the ways of sex, but I have never considered the mechanics between two men."
Tommy sets his drink down with a deliberate click. He stands, approaching Buck in his chair. Buck gulps, as he rounds the chair to stand behind him.
"Surely you know some of the methods. Hands." He places his hands on Buck's shoulders, trailing them around to trace his neck. "Mouth." He bends down, sucking Buck's earlobe in, and nipping it sharply before retreating.
Coming in front, he kneels down. Buck instinctively opens his legs, letting him into his space. "And the ass, of course. We'll work our way up to that one. I find it hard to believe a man as experienced as you has never found a working woman who was willing to let him try."
"No, I have. I suppose. I just never considered."
"I'm told it feels much better for men than for women, though I have no way of comparing, of course. I only have my own experiences." Tommy runs his hands along the edge of his trousers, pulling his shirt out of them. Those big, big hands are warm where he caresses Buck's abdomen.
"You would… receive?"
"I will, and I have before. But not tonight. I am not properly supplied here." He undoes the buttons of Buck's pants efficiently. Buck is already so hard as to be embarassing, just from some simple touches.
"Tonight, I think we will focus on the mouth."
He draws Buck out of his small clothes. Buck whimpers at the perfunctory touch, moving to open mouth panting as Tommy strokes him lazily, examining him.
Buck is going to ask for more details, but Tommy simply licks his lips, and swallows him to the root.
"Fuck! Tommy!" Buck moans, Tommy sucking noisily at him. He can feel himself filling out more, already starting to leak into Tommy's mouth.
Tommy pulls off to lap messily at his balls, sucking hard on one, then the other, then swapping his hand in when he goes back to work on Buck's cock.
Buck is rock solid now, but Tommy is still swallowing all of him like it's the easiest thing in the world. Buck reaches a hand up tentatively, brushing back his unkempt curls, and Tommy locks eyes with him. Then nods, and swallows him so deeply Buck can feel his throat spasming around the length of his cock.
"Holy mother of god, Tommy!" His fists wind themselves tight into Tommy's hair and he can't help but rock up into that sinful, wonderful mouth.
Tommy hollows his cheeks and sucks, and Buck feels his release coiling, his balls tightening.
"Tommy, slow down, I'm going to-"
He doesn't listen, one finger tracing the seam of his balls, pulled so tightly, around behind, knuckling in to press at something that fires off a sensation Buck's never felt before and then he's spilling into Tommy's mouth, endless repetitive hitches of his hips into those waiting pink lips.
When he's been emptied out, Tommy gives him one last, luxurious suck and lets him slide free.
"Stay right there," Tommy tells him, working his own trousers open with one hand. "Just, stay."
He's fisting himself before he even gets his pants open, slicking his way with the leftover mess from Buck, and it takes him only a few moments to come, splashing hot and thick across Buck's softening dick.
All Buck can do is moan. This might be the most erotic encouter of his life, and he is no stranger to sex.
Tommy grunts, stroking himself through the aftershocks, a little line of ejaculate drooling from the tip of his cock, dangling above the mess he'd made of Buck's groin and stomach.
Before he can think twice, Buck leans forward and licks it up, tonguing the tip of Tommy's cock.
"God- Evan!"
Buck smiles up at him cheekily, licking the intriguing new taste off his lips.
"That was… incredible."
Tommy nods. "I agree wholeheartedly. Now stay there so I can clean you up."
He goes to the wash basin and grabs a cloth, gently wiping Buck off. When he's mostly clean, he goes back and wets a different cloth, finishing off the job.
Buck shivers at the cold touch on his hypersensitive skin.
"Sorry," Tommy tells him, grimacing a little.
"It's quite alright." He yawns.
"Alright, come to bed." Tommy pulls him up and helps him get the rest of his clothes off. He strips down right behind him and then they crawl into the bed together.
"Can I?" Buck asks, reaching for Tommy's naked chest hesistantly.
"Of course." Tommy opens his arms and Buck snuggles in, asleep almost as soon as his head touches Tommy's chest.
He wakes the next morning before dawn. Tommy is fast asleep beside him, and Buck spends a long moment just examining the planes of his face.
He traces the shape of his Cupid's bow with his gaze, recalling how it looked wrapped around his cock the night before.
He slips quietly out of the bed before he can linger too long. He puts on his shirt and hold his undone trousers up and makes his way back to his unused bed. The house is quiet- he's managed to wake before the servants start the day, which is what he'd hoped for.
He collapses onto his bed with a happy sigh. He's been dreading the future all summer, but now? He feels like the world is unlocking in front of him. He drifts back off to sleep with a smile on his face.
He wakes again a few hours later and rings for a bath. Once clean and clothed, he goes to find Tommy.
He runs into him in the hall.
"There you are," Tommy says. "I was coming to find you. Breakfast is ready, we can eating in the drawing room."
Buck falls in step next to him.
"I missed you when I woke up," Tommy tells him quietly.
Buck bumps him gently. "I hated to go, but I didn't want to cause trouble."
Tommy sighs. "It was for the best, though I missed the chance to suck you off again this morning."
Buck chokes. "Yes, well. There's time after breakfast."
"Oh, I have different plans for you today." The smirk should be alarming, but the only alarming thing is how quickly Buck's dick is filling out.
"I-" He stammers. "Yes. Please. Whatever you want."
"You may regret giving me free rein, but that will be your lesson to learn." They've arrived at the drawing room, where servants are laying out the place settings. "But eat, and we'll discuss the day's plan."
The day's plan involves Tommy procuring some lubricant and slowly fingering Buck until he comes, hot and messy all over his stomach.
Then they go for a walk of the grounds, and spend a long, long while just talking.
That night Tommy opens himself up and talks Buck through fucking him. It's similar to things Buck has done with prostitutes, but there's no faking the way Tommy moans and swears when Buck hits a certain spot inside him. He comes embarrassingly fast in the tight heat of Tommy's body, and he has to lay there shame-faced while Tommy finished himself off.
Afterwords, Tommy kisses him and tell him it's alright. He's flattered, and Buck has time to return the favor.
So goes the rest of their trip- they fuck, they talk, they play games, and read, and learn everything there is to know about each other.
It takes a few days, but Buck finally convinces Tommy he's ready to be fucked.
Tommy takes forever opening him up, and then forever sliding his dick into him, inch by agonizingly delicious inch.
Buck is panting and leaking by the time Tommy seats himself, and he has to take a breather before Tommy can get to business.
When he does, Buck swears it's the best orgasm of his life.
Tommy is a beast when he fucks. Despite, or maybe in spite of the care he took preparing Buck, once he starts to fuck, he doesn't stop. Again, Buck feels like he comes in moments, but Tommy follows him right over the ledge, so either it was great for both of them, or Buck didn't make as much of a fool of himself as he feels.
In the quiet dark of Tommy's room, post orgasm, they speak of dreams. Buck shares his fears about marriage, and Tommy tells him when he realized he would never get married, never have children.
Buck tries to say, but now we have each other, but he falls asleep before he can get the thought out.
After lunch on the final day, Tommy lays out the balloon to inspect it before the trip back to London, and Buck perches on a nearby fence and pesters him about how he got into aviation, who taught him to fly, when did he first fly, on and on. Tommy answers every question patiently and thoroughly.
When the talk turns to weather patterns, Tommy takes him into the library and shows him the books and almanacs and scrolls with descriptions of weather he's collected over the years.
"My estate in Scotland has far more," he tells Buck while he examines a meticulously painted picture of different cloud types and what they signify. "You'll have to come visit me when I go back."
"Go back? You don't mean to stay in London?"
Tommy laughs. "Of course not. I've enjoyed my time there this summer, but I never intended to stay."
"But. What about me? About us?"
The look Tommy gives him is half pity and half heartbreak. He crosses the distance to stand in front of Buck.
"Evan. What we have is important, but not so special as to be unique. You can certainly find a dozen men of similar proclivities in London. Not to mention, you can choose a woman. You can be truly happy." He raises a hand to Buck face, but Buck dodges the touch.
"I'm happy with you! Why would I choose a woman when this is the happiest I've ever been?" he exclaims.
Tommy scoffs. "Because this life can never be happy. There is no happily ever after. There is only hiding, and hoping the wrong people never find out what you are. That you never approach the wrong man and wind up dead."
Buck feels his heart breaking in his chest. "So I was just, what? A pleasant distraction? A passing fancy for your time in London? You would just keep fucking me until the fall and then go back to Scotland and forget I exist?" A terrible thought occurs to him. "Is there another man, waiting for you in Scotland?"
"No! Evan, that's not- we can't be together. Not really."
"Not if you give up before we've tried!" He jumps off the fence, pacing away. "We can just. I can refuse my parents and we can move here. We don't have to tell anyone."
Tommy stays where he is. "Evan, I know this is new and exciting to you, but I'm telling you. I have seen many men like us. My age, older, younger. Most end in tragedy. The ones that don't, just end.
"They get married to women, or they die bachelors. Some are killed violently. I don't ever want that for you. I don't want that for me. You can come visit me in Scotland. But you must take a wife. It's the safest way to live."
"I don't want safe! I want you!"
Tommy throws his hands in the air. "I can't give you what you want, Evan! What do you want me to say? We'll go to your parents and plead our case? That we can run off together? There is only one way this story ends, and it's with you realizing you have given up everything you enjoy in life to grow old with a bitter man who is scared of his own shadow. I can not be as brave as you're asking me to be."
He storms off, leaving the balloon lying spread out across the grass. Buck watches him go. There are words and emotions caught in his throat but he doesn't know what to do, what to say to get Tommy to come back to him.
He sits out there for a while waiting for Tommy to return to the balloon. When he realizes the man must be waiting for him to leave, he goes inside.
Tommy doesn't appear for dinner, or afterwards. When Buck knocks on his door before bed there's no answer.
Buck sleeps fitfully, and wakes before dawn. He thinks about looking for Tommy again, but he realizes the man has given up.
He asks the servants for the carriage and goes back to London. It's late when he gets in, and he goes straight to bed.
July
He spends the next few days moping around the manor. He waits for Tommy to call on him, to invite him over, so they can talk about it, but he never does.
His stubborn streak wins over, and the longer it takes for Tommy to contact him the more resolute he becomes that he won't cave first.
His mood is so foul even his parents don't pester him as much. It's a welcome reprieve, one that would be even better if he was fit for any kind of polite company during the respite.
Eventually there's a knock on his bedroom door. He opens it eagerly, expecting Tommy or perhaps a footman with a note, but it's Maddie. He droops immediately.
"I didn't know you were coming over."
"Well, I sent a note inviting you to tea yesterday, but you never showed up. I came over today to see what was wrong and Mother told me you'd been in a state ever since you came back from the country."
Buck groans. He can only imagine how his mother actually put it. Maddie sighs.
"You don't have to talk to me, but I just want to help," She tells him, setting down a lunch tray in his sitting room. "I don't like seeing you so unhappy."
"I don't know how to explain it," He tells her honestly. "I don't know if I can."
"Does this have anything to do with a certain Duke?"
Buck nods, though she can't know the truth of the matter.
"You've had arguments with friends before, Evan. Surely you can fix whatever this is about."
"I don't know. He is so certain things can only be one way."
Maddie hums thoughtfully. "You should talk to Howie about it. He's known Tommy a long time. He'll have better advice for you. Now, eat. You'll need your strength.I heard Mother discussing the new offensive. You'll only have another day of moping at most."
He spends another day moping around, but when his father knocks on his door and tells him he needs to be dressed for tea, no ifs ands or buts, he knows he has to do something.
Despite what Tommy said, he knows he can't get married to someone else, at least not while Tommy might be an option. If Tommy rejects him fully, he'll try to move on. But not before.
He gets dressed, and strides downstairs, confident now that he has a plan of action.
He goes right past his parents, leaving his father sputtering after him.
At his request a servant saddles a horse for him, and he rides straight to the Kinard house, standing just as stately as ever. There's no one outside to greet him, so he hitches his horse to the gate and goes to the door.
He bangs the knocker, too eagerly, and waits, fidgeting.
Finally, someone opens the door. A footman, who looks confused.
"Is the Duke home? I'd like to speak with him, urgently. Can you tell him Mister Buckley is here?"
The footman frowns. "My lord, the Duke has returned to Scotland. He left three days ago."
Buck shakes his head. "No, that can't be right. He wasn't supposed to go back until August."
"He decided to return early. Said he had concluded his business here. We've just been packing up the house."
Buck took a step back. Gone. "I see. Well, thank you."
The footman nods and closes the door. Buck retreats down the steps. He left. It wasn't enough to leave Buck, he ran all the way back to Scotland.
What was he supposed to do now?
The second door Buck knocks on is quainter.
Maddie opens it herself after a few moments. The townhome she and Howie moved into after the wedding is warm and homey. It's spacious, though obviously much, much smaller than the grand halls of Buckley Manor.
But Maddie welcomes him in warmly, and doesn't question it when he asks to speak to Howie alone. She just rings for tea and shows him into Howie's office, then goes back to the sitting room, after extracting a promise that he'll stay for lunch once he's done with Howie.
"Buck!" Howie says, coming in. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He spots the serious look on Buck's face. "Or is this a business meeting? Do you need legal help? Because I'm not sure I should advise you, being related as we are."
Buck shakes his head. "I need to talk to you about something. About Tommy."
Howie goes still. "Go on."
"Do you… do you know?"
Howie crosses his arms. "I know a great deal of things about Tommy. He has been my friend for going on two decades. And though we are newly brothers, Tommy has been like a brother to me for that amount of time. So yes, I know somethings. What is it you think you know?"
Buck smiles. Tommy might act like he's all alone in the world, but here is Howie ready to fight Buck to protect his friend. "Relax, Howie. I'm not on a witch hunt. Rather the opposite."
He lays out the events that transpired over the week at Burgess Hill. When he finally gets to today, and the fact that Tommy has left, Howie sighs.
"He told me he was going. I never thought to warn you. The two of you have been so attached, I assumed you knew."
He steeples his fingers, thinking. "The thing you have to understand is that Tommy is scared. He's not a coward by any means, though he would probably tell you differently."
"He did," Buck agrees. "I don't think him a coward. I just don't know how to convince him this isn't a passing fancy for me. And why would he believe me? I didn't even know my interest in men until he kissed me."
He slumps. "I don't know how to show him that I would give up my life here for him in an instant, but only if he'll have me. I didn't want to get married before. I certainly don't want to now.
"It's absolutely absurd to say it, but I think he could be the love of my life."
Howie nods. "It is absurd, but I believe you. Maddie's noticed the difference in you as well. I think what you have to ask yourself is, what would you give up to be with him?"
"Anything. Everything. I would move to America and start over as penniless migrants, as long as we could do it together. I was already planning on telling my parents I can't fulfill their request. I don't know what they would do. If they would follow through and disown me. I wish I could just give the title to Maddie."
A thought strikes him. "Wait a second. You're a lawyer."
Howie nods, bemused. "That I am."
"I have an idea. But it will need your support, and Maddie's. And we'll need to go to the queen."
"The queen?"
Buck nods. "Do you trust me?"
"I suppose I do. Tell me your plan."
"This will take some time."
March, 1815
Scotland is far greener and foggier than Buck could have imagined.
The trip was long, but beautiful. Buck has gone over every possible way this could play out in his head, and he's practically shaking with nerves when he finally arrives at the Kinard Estates just outside Aberdeenshire.
He's let in immediately, and a footman takes his coat while the butler goes to inform Tommy of his presence.
"Evan. What are you doing here?"
Tommy's voice is a balm to his ears after months of absence.
It's confused, timid, and the sweetest thing Buck has ever heard.
"Tommy." He hopes the other man can hear his longing. "I'm sorry to call uninvited. I hoped we might speak in private."
Tommy blinks at him.
The butler clears his throat. "We can take Mister Buckley's things to the guest suit, Your Grace?"
Shaking himself, Tommy nods. "Of course. Thank you, Collins."
Tommy watches the servants haul the two trunks Buck brought with him off, obviously stalling.
When they're gone and the entry hall is empty, Tommy rounds on Buck. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a long story. One I'd love to tell you, preferably in private."
The crease between Tommy's brow is as deep as Buck's ever seen it, and he pinches it in consternation. "Of course. Please, come to the drawing room, would you."
Buck bites back a smile- that's the tone he loves most from Tommy. Sarcastic and a little biting.
Tommy stops a servant and asks her to bring them drinks, and let the rest of the staff know they aren't to be bothered. She nods and scurries off.
This place, much more so than the London Manor or the Burgess Hill estate, has Tommy seeped into every inch. The art on the walls is a rolling hills and skylines. The furniture is comfortably worn in, not shining and newly upholstered like the London house was.
Even the house smells like Tommy, that woodsy, verbena scent lingering in the air.
They come to the drawing room and Tommy lets him inside. He sits. Tommy waits by the door, clearly agitated, until the serving girl arrives with the tea. He thanks her, and then shuts the door.
"What the hell were you thinking, coming here?" he asks Buck as soon as he turns.
"I was thinking I'm in love with you, and it was worth being turned away to get a chance to tell you that."
Tommy freezes, face gobsmacked. It takes him a moment to shake it off.
"You can't mean that. You don't mean that."
Buck shrugs. "I suppose it's possible you know me better than I know myself, but frankly I'm not sure you should be so confident. You seem rather unwilling to admit you have strong feelings for me, though I know it to be true."
Tommy sighs. "I don't want to do this, Evan. You can stay the night, but tomorrow you must return to London. I'm sure you didn't get permission to come here and your parents will be furious."
"I have nothing to return to in London," Buck tells him, pouring himself a cup of tea. Tommy is still pacing around the room, like a lion caged and frightened. "Come sit? Please."
"No. I don't think I can. Evan, you have everything to return to in London. Your family. Your inheritance. You can't throw it all away for… me."
"I can, and I have, though I hardly consider it throwing away. In fact, I think it will be put to much better use."
Tommy stops. Stares at him. "What have you done?"
Buck shrugs. "I am no longer the heir of Buckley Manor, nor the title of Viscount."
"Evan." The word is strangled. "Tell me you didn't tell your parents about this. About me."
"No, of course not. I knew they would never understand. So I told them something about myself that they've suspected all along. I don't want to be Viscount. I don't want to marry a proper lady. I want to study and travel, and I don't want to disappoint them. I want them to be secure. So I suggested an alternative."
He takes another drink of his tea. "With the support of the queen, of course."
Now Tommy sits, staring at him. "What the hell did you do?"
"Well, you see, when the man I had fallen in love with ran off on me, I went to talk to one of his oldest friends. A friend who happens to be a lawyer. And we had ourselves a little chat.
"Did you know, if the Crown agrees, a title can be passed to anyone, whether related by blood or not? I had seen it before of course, when the former Duke Kendall's title was dispensed. The queen gave it to a cousin by marriage.
"So I thought, well, if the Crown can do that by force, surely it can be done willingly. The queen is rather fond of my sister, as you know."
Tommy's jaw is nearly on the floor. He's staring at Buck like he doesn't know what to feel, much less to say. "Who is the heir to the title now?"
"Well, the newest member of the Buckley family, of course. The next Viscount of Buckley will be Howard Han, the Viscountess Maddie Buckley Han. They also have the lineage well in hand, with a new bouncing baby viscount or viscountess due in the fall."
"You really gave it all up. For me. Without knowing if I would even see you."
Buck grows weary of the distance and goes to kneel at Tommy's feet, a mirror of a night not so long ago. He hopes this night ends half as well.
"I would have given it up simply to be myself. Don't you understand? I never wanted it. But if giving it up is what it takes for you to understand that I want this, that I want you? No matter how hard or dangerous it is? I would do it a hundred times over. I would give up the clothes off my back."
He has more to say, but Tommy's mouth is on his, stealing his breath, crowding into his space. They move back with the force of the kiss, and Buck sprawls out a hand to stop them from falling completely flat.
"Does this mean I can stay?" Buck asks, when they break apart. Tommy is all but in his lap, legs tangled across the rug.
"Of course you can stay, you fool." Tommy kisses him again. "I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to leave, I just-"
"I know. I don't blame you, Tommy. I didn't understand at first. And I shouldn't have pushed you. I should have just shown you. So here I am, showing you."
Tommy laughs, and for long moments the only sound is the rustling of clothes and soft moans as they reacquaint themselves.
After, when they're spent and sated, Buck's cock still softening inside Tommy, Tommy asks him- "What would you have done if I hadn't let you in? If I had rejected you." He traces a hand across Buck's bare chest, idly.
"Obviously I knew that wouldn't happen. But Howie set me up a job with one of the lawyers here. I'll be the researcher for their cases. I plan to do it, even if you'll support me. I don't want to be a burden, and I've always liked to keep busy." Buck grabs his hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing each knuckle slowly, while staring into Tommy's eyes.
"I intended to leave London no matter your response. But I'm glad to stay here with you for as long as you'll have me."
Tommy squeezes his hand. "I'm not letting you out of my sight again. I've missed you so badly these last months."
"Would that we could stay like this for the rest of our lives," Buck laments.
Tommy clenches around him, and Buck swears.
"Don't tempt me. I think I have another round in me, and I don't know how long we can stay locked up in here before the servants get concerned." He rocks his hips a little, just to test it out. Definitely spent.
"I suppose it is getting rather late." Tommy draws Buck into a passionate kiss that leaves them both panting before they finally break apart.
They get dressed slowly, teasing each other, and trading kisses and touches as they sort out their clothes.
There's much still to figure out, but, Buck thinks, gazing at Tommy fondly, where he's turning his stocking right side out, they can make it work.
September 7th, 1815
My dearest Maddie,
Give all of my love to my new niece. I'm planning on meeting her very soon- Tommy promises me we will be able to visit for an extended stay after the harvest is in. There was a sickness that struck down many of the men, so we have loaned some bodies out to help the tenants.
Scotland continues to amaze me. I'm happy you and Howard are settled in London, though I wonder how you ever left this place. Last week, Tommy took me to see the Bullers of Buchan. I swear, I could have watched the waves for hours.
I was relieved that you have been let in on certain truths. I never doubted for a moment that you would react differently, but it was not my secret alone to share. I hope you won't hold it against me that I didn't tell you myself.
It surprised me too. Apparently there was something there that Tommy could see. He laughed endlessly after he finally told me about Hen and Karen. How was I to know?? After all, I would have been quite content to live alone with you in perpetual bachelordom if it had been in our parents' design!
But I am very happy, and hope to be for many years to come. Give my love to the new Viscount and tell him not to let the power go to his head.
Love always,
Evan