A Collar and Tie (Ganymede Quartet Book 4) (6 page)

“Oh, yes, Sir. Warren remembers a lot of the boys from my
year.”

“Does he remember Richard?”

Martin seemed a bit flustered at the mention of Richard.
“Oh, well, yes, Sir, he does.”

“I’m glad that you can talk to people who knew him from time
to time.”

Martin gave Henry a smile full of tender affection. “That’s
kind of you, Sir.”

“What about the others?”

“They’re all lovely, really, Sir. Chris is very funny, Sir.
Mr. Whitman’s slave.”

Henry found that he wanted to tell Martin about his
surprising attraction to Perry Whitman but was not sure how the story would go
over; it might be better to save it for later, or keep it to himself entirely.

“Here, you eat this last little bit,” Henry said, nudging
the morsel of cake toward Martin with the back of his fork.

“Are you sure, Sir?”

“Yes. I want you to have it.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Martin ate the last of the cake with his
eyes on Henry’s face, a fond smile playing about his lips.

“Henry, do you want me to find you a dance partner?” Jesse
appeared at Henry’s elbow, seeming energized by the cake, the crowd, and the
prospect of a dance. “I’ve danced with most of these girls and they’re at least
passably good.”

“Uh…” Henry didn’t know. He’d prefer to dance with Martin,
of course, but somehow doubted even Jesse would dance with his slave outside of
a class setting.

“You should dance, Sir,” Martin said, giving him a little
push. “It’s good practice for next week.”

Henry felt his face flush, but said, “Good point. All right,
Jesse, find me a partner.”

Jesse led Henry through the crush, Henry looking back every
few steps to make sure Martin was still following.

“Miss Sinclair!” Jesse hailed a tall, slim young woman with
coloring reminiscent of a nymph in a painting, although she did not evoke the
same visceral response as did Perry Whitman. She had an interesting face, not
classically pretty but pleasing nonetheless. The slave who attended her was a
girl with glossy dark hair. “Lily Sinclair!”

“Mr. Wilton.” Miss Sinclair smiled warmly at Jesse. “Happy
birthday, Mr. Wilton. This is such an exciting party! Maude and I were just
discussing how kind you were to invite me. I’ve been meeting so many
interesting people.”

“I’d like to introduce you to another one, if you don’t
mind. Miss Sinclair, this is my cousin, Henry Blackwell. Henry, this is Miss
Lily Sinclair.”

“How do you do?” Henry bent over Miss Sinclair’s hand.

“So pleased to meet you,” she replied.

“The two of you particularly like dancing,” Jesse told them.
“The music is going to start in a few minutes.”

“Oh, of course,” Henry said. “Miss Sinclair, might I have
the first dance?”

“Certainly, Mr. Blackwell. I’d be delighted.” She took
Henry’s arm and they made their way together to the ballroom at the rear of the
house, trailed by their slaves.

The ballroom was packed with couples eagerly awaiting the
start of the music. Once the dance began, Henry thought he would be all right;
it was just these few minutes beforehand when he had to make small talk that
were problematic.

Henry cleared his throat self-consciously. He had already
turned around several times to assure himself that Martin was nearby and he had
to stop doing that. “How do you know my cousin, Miss Sinclair?”

“Oh, we met at the New Amsterdam Cotillion last year. We
were in the same set for the quadrille. He was a much better dancer than my
partner! He commiserated with me about my stepped-on toes!” She laughed and put
her hand on Henry’s arm. “But I don’t remember seeing you there, Mr. Blackwell.
Your ball must have been the year before…?”

“Er, no,” Henry said, blushing. “I don’t go to Lawton, so I
have a different dance, but mine is actually this year.”

“Oh! You’re younger than us! I certainly wouldn’t have
guessed that! I imagine it serves you well to seem a little more mature.”

“Oh, well, maybe,” Henry said uncomfortably. He might
look
more mature, but he felt he lost all the advantages of his looks when he opened
his mouth. To his relief, the musicians finished their tuning and settled into
their places. “It seems like they’re ready,” Henry said, giving her a genuine
smile, excited and happy for the music to start.

The first tune was a waltz. Miss Sinclair was an excellent
partner, and Henry was happy to dance the following polka with her, as well. He
caught Martin’s eye as he spun past, and Martin gave him a dazzling smile. For
the third dance, Jesse switched partners with him. Henry didn’t catch the
girl’s name, but she was blonde and energetic, light on her feet. Henry danced
the fourth tune with a random girl he saw at the edge of the crowd, and spent
the fifth in the company of that girl’s plump friend. At the beginning of the
sixth number, he found Martin, who was waiting with a cup of punch and high
color in his cheeks.

He leaned close, his lips almost brushing Henry’s ear, and
said, “I love seeing you dance, Sir.”

“You do?”

“Watching your body move so gracefully, Sir. I love it.”

Martin’s hot breath in Henry’s ear made him shiver.

“There you are!”

A hand clapped Henry on the back and he turned to see Gene
and Joel with their slaves. Gene gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze and let
his hand drop.

“All the girls are asking for introductions,” Gene said.

“To me?” Henry blushed, mortified. What had he done to
attract the attention of girls?

“All of them want to meet Jesse’s handsome cousin, the good
dancer,” Joel said.

“Oh, um, I…well, I don’t—”

“We know,” Gene said, grinning. “You’re
shy
. Just
know that if you take an interest in any girl here, she’s probably already
dying to dance with you.”

Henry didn’t want to think about girls desiring him for any
purpose. “Aren’t you two going to dance?”

“I’m too lazy,” Joel said, “and Gene’s terrible at it. Perry
and Eli are out there along with Jesse, though.”

Henry wanted to see Perry dance, and blushed for wanting
such a thing. He darted a guilty glance at Martin, but Martin was engaged in
conversation with Warren and Vince and wouldn’t have known why Henry was so red
anyway.

Henry did have an easy time finding a partner for the next
dance, and the one after that. He danced with his cousin Bette, who had not
inherited the Wilton dancing talent. He did get to see Perry in motion and
found him a compelling sight, though he was no better than average as a dancer.
This attraction baffled Henry; he hadn’t felt this sort of intense, visceral
draw toward anyone since Martin and, although it wasn’t remotely as strong as
what he felt for Martin, it bothered him a little that he could feel it for
anyone else at all.

He stood in the crowd with Jesse, Gene, Joel and all their
slaves, eating from a plate Martin had prepared for him and drinking from the
cup of punch that Martin held. He had to keep himself from staring at Martin,
from looking at him with too much longing. He wanted to be able to touch him,
to kiss him, to reassert his claims on Martin’s body and soul. He also wanted
to put this curious attraction to a veritable stranger behind him, and giving
Martin a thorough fucking seemed like a good way to do that.

Perry and Eli approached with their slaves, Perry grinning
with a rakish charm that improved his plain features. He tossed his tawny hair
back off his forehead with a jerk of his chin.

“You’re a fine dancer, aren’t you?” he said, nudging Henry
with his elbow. Henry’s skin tingled from that point of contact, ripples of
sensation spreading over his body.

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” Henry felt his face flood crimson. His
hands shook a little, a fine tremor, and he prayed that no one would notice.

Entirely unselfconscious, Jesse fed Russ Angels on Horseback
from his hand; it still shocked Henry, but it didn’t seem like any of the
Lawton boys even noticed what Jesse did. Jesse seemed to live in some charmed
bubble where anything was possible and everything
was allowed. The
Lawton boys seemed to view Jesse as a sort of charming trickster, a decadent
pusher of boundaries, whereas at Algonquin he’d be ridiculed as a freak and
possible fairy. Henry began to wish he was smart enough to attend Lawton, quite
confident that it was a much more permissive and sophisticated environment than
his own school.

“Sir?” Martin’s voice, low and just a bit breathy. “Sir, do
you want more food?”

“Angels on Horseback,” Henry blurted, even though he didn’t
actually much like oysters. “You can have some, too.”

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll be right back.”

Gene watched Martin go and turned to Henry. “Warren tells me
your Martin was a Superior boy, too,” he remarked.

“Yes, he is—was.”

“Jesse and I are snobs about how much better our slaves are
than most of the others,” Gene confided. “All the Ganymede boys are better,
really. Haven’t you found that, too?”

“Well, I, uh…I haven’t really tried others, to tell the
truth. But I’m very pleased with Martin, obviously.” Henry’s face tingled with
heat.

“You haven’t tried—not at all?” Gene didn’t bother to hide
his shocked surprise.

Henry felt his ears grow hot. “I don’t share him.”

“Oh. Well, all right.” Gene seemed baffled by Henry’s
stance. “So you’re not staying to swap with us after the dance?”

Henry felt a fresh wave of hot blood color his skin. “No,
I’m not. I don’t swap him.”

“Well, all right,” Gene said again. He eyed Henry with some
concern. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Henry told him, though he was. He’d been
having such a nice time with these boys today, but it seemed that ultimately
all boys would want the same thing, and he was too possessive to let them have
it.

“Warren will be disappointed,” Gene said with a short laugh.
“He likes both of you.” Warren, standing behind Gene’s shoulder, gave Henry a
rueful smile…and was that a wink? Had Warren winked at him?

Henry was embarrassed anew, and sharply aroused. He’d never
imagined that another boy’s slave would take sexual interest in him and it was
terribly flattering, even though Warren’s dark looks were too much like Henry’s
own for him to really return the interest.

Now if it were Perry Whitman asking, and if touching Perry
were somehow part of the arrangement, Henry might be tempted to swap after all.
If Henry could have Perry naked astride his lap, or on his knees with Henry’s
cock in his mouth, it might take his mind off the fact that Martin would
necessarily be taking on all comers. But masters, free boys, didn’t touch at
swap parties, much less strip down and fuck, and he had no reason to think
Perry would welcome his interest.

Martin returned with a plate piled with bacon-wrapped
oysters on toast and a fresh cup of punch.

Henry couldn’t bring himself to feed the canapé to Martin,
too fearful of condemnation despite seeing what Jesse was able to get away
with. Instead, he ate it himself in two bites and thrust the plate at Martin’s
chest. “You eat some, too. You like these, right?”

“I do, Sir. Thank you.”

“How about you, Gene? Warren?” Henry held out the plate and
Gene and Warren both took canapés.

“Thank you, Sir,” Warren said, giving him a startlingly
seductive smile.

“Mmm, yes, thank you,” Gene said, licking his fingers.

“You’re quite welcome, both of you,” Henry said, flustered.
He handed the plate to Martin. “I should find a partner for the next dance.”

“Very well, Sir. I’ll be waiting.” Martin raised an eyebrow,
just fractionally, and smiled at Henry, his teeth glistening. Henry felt such
gratitude, such visceral satisfaction that he would be taking Martin home and
fucking him after this party, and that nothing would stop him from doing so.

Henry caught sight of Lily Sinclair standing with her slave
near the edge of the crowd. “Miss Sinclair? Do you have a partner for the next
dance?”

“I do not, Mr. Blackwell. Are you offering?”

“I am.” He proffered his arm and she took it.

They danced a schottische and a waltz, and then she bade him
dance a polka with her friend, a mousy girl who was a terrible dancer. After
her, Henry danced with a series of girls whose names he promptly forgot, and
while not all of them were good dancers, none were as terrible as Miss
Sinclair’s friend.

He took another break to drink punch and stand near Martin.
Gene and Warren had disappeared. Joel and Jesse were both dancing. Perry and
Eli and their slaves came to stand with him and, in proximity to Perry, Henry
once again felt the heat of an excited flush wash over his face. Surely
everyone had noticed his blushing by now, but he felt confident that they could
have no idea why he was so distressed. They probably assumed it was something
to do with girls, which would be embarrassing enough if it were true, but at
least it would be
normal
.

Martin leaned close and asked, “Sir? Why are you so red?”

“It’s nothing,” Henry told him. “I’ll tell you later.” He
might. He
might
tell him.

At last, the band took a break and the crowd returned to the
dining room for the cold supper that was laid out on the buffet tables. Jesse
flitted around the room, going from group to group in high spirits. Henry stood
with Eli and the others and ate cold chicken and deviled eggs washed down with
more punch.

Martin spoke close to Henry’s ear. “Sir, are you going to
stay for the rest of the dancing? I might call home and let them know you won’t
be back for dinner if that’s the case.”

Henry thought about it a moment. He
was
having fun.
Generally speaking, the girls weren’t being overly flirtatious and he was able
to find a partner any time he wanted to dance. But if he stayed, he’d
eventually have to definitively turn down swaps with these boys that he liked
and wanted to have like him in return. If he left early, he’d avoid the
discomfort of that confrontation. Besides, if he went home, he could finally
fuck Martin, which he had been wanting to do since breakfast. He had an excess
of sexual tension built up thanks to his unexpected attraction to young Mr.
Whitman and it would be a delightful relief to expend this energy on Martin.