OF DREAMS AND CEREMONIES (3 page)

Late that night they made love in Nicholas's bed with the lights out, but with the curtains and windows open letting in the moonlight and the fresh night air. Soon - as he had a few times already in the past thirty-six hours - Nicholas was kneeling between Dave's thighs, rolling a condom onto himself. "We're getting married …" Nicholas mused. "We'll get the tests done. We won't have to use these any more." After a moment he added, "I've never fucked without one."

"You'll like it," said Dave.

"Will I?"

"I'm guessing … it'll be intense."

"Guessing?"

Dave shrugged. "Me and Denise - there was never anyone else. Didn't need them. I liked the - skin against skin. No barriers. Me and you - "

Nicholas belatedly understood. "You haven't had the chance to find out." He sat back on his heels, considering Dave with a bit of a sour twist to his mouth. "You want to fuck me, David?"

"Wouldn't be many men who'd say no to that. But not if you don't want to."

"I've never - I've never actually done that." Nicholas drifted further into thought, his brow wrinkling in a frown, though his cock still stood proud and rubber-wrapped between them. "Don't know why, really …"

Dave wondered if he was misremembering. "You offered once before, didn't you? In Charleville, the night you first fucked me."

"Did I … ? Well, I suppose … it felt like a night on which
something
significant should happen." Nicholas appeared rather troubled by the recollection.

"Hey, if it's not your thing, it's not a problem," Dave assured him, shifting up onto his elbows and reaching for the man. "Come on, don't leave me hanging here."

Nicholas's attention returned, and he slowly eased forward into place, shifting over Dave as if he were prowling, his focus becoming curious, engaged. "You like this, yes?"

He shivered, already losing himself. "Yes. Already lost count - since I got here - "

A gut-deep groan wrenched itself out of Nicholas. "I'm - Oh God! Maybe I shouldn't - "

"You bloody well should," David insisted in a vehement whisper.

"Shouldn't overdo it," Nicholas was muttering, even as they both moved into place. They already knew this so very well. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Don't care if you make me feel it, Nicholas. Never thought about it before - "

"Before … ?"

"Before there was you." His thighs gripping either side of Nicholas's waist, his stomach muscles curling him up, lifting his hips, ready to receive the man. "Before you made me such a slut for it."

Nicholas groaned again, and surged forward. "You're sure?" he asked, hesitating at the last possible moment.

"Do it," said Dave. And they both cried out as Nicholas impaled him.

two

Dave woke at a far more reasonable hour the next morning, and shared a late breakfast with Nicholas, before making his excuses and heading off to meet Simon at eleven. He figured he'd tell Nicholas about it afterwards.

Simon was waiting for him in the main hall, and showed Dave through to the neat little office just beyond the hidden door. "How may I help you, David?" he asked in a warm yet professional manner once they'd both sat down.

"It's about Nicholas," Dave blurted out.

Simon didn't even blink. "Yes, of course."

"It's about - He told me about - about the brain aneurysm, you see. And I wanted to make sure that I understood. I figured - you'd have made it your job to know what to do, what to be careful of. I want to make sure I know that, too."

About halfway through this stumbling explanation, Simon had begun smiling softly, and after a brief pause he said, "Nicholas has made a very good choice in you, hasn't he?"

Dave coloured up, and remained silent, though to himself he fervently swore,
'God, I hope so.'

"If I know anything about you, Mr Taylor," Simon continued, "I would guess you've already done your homework."

"Yes. I know that only one in twelve- or thirteen-thousand people have a ruptured aneurysm each year in England."

"And in Nicholas's case, it's a small aneurysm, sir. A diameter of less than seven millimetres."

"Oh. Good." He hadn't known that. Cerebral aneurysms could measure even five centimetres or more, and of course the larger they got the more dangerous they were.

"He has it monitored, and he's on medication. I'm sure you'll support him in that, though Nicholas takes the matter quite as seriously as you'd wish him to."

"But he hasn't had surgery to fix it."

"The balance of risks doesn't make surgery worthwhile - under present circumstances. It might become more desirable later. But I'm afraid that even surgery wouldn't entirely fix the problem, David; it would only reduce the likelihood of rupture."

Dave nodded. Things weren't quite as bleak as he'd feared, though it was bad enough. "The problem is …" he slowly continued, "if something happens, if it ruptures, there probably won't be anything I can do about it. And I hate that."

"Of course there'll be plenty to do, sir," Simon briskly replied. "You'll need to immediately call for an ambulance. The emergency number is 999 here in England."

"Yes."

"He will be - I'm sorry, sir, but you'd best be prepared. Nicholas will probably be in a great deal of pain. They describe it as … beyond the most excruciating of headaches. You'll need to take care of him. He'll be disoriented. He might lapse into unconsciousness. And he might vomit, so you'll need to make sure his airways remain clear. But I know you have a current first aid certificate, so you'll know what to do."

"Of course. Yes." Dave swallowed, not liking at all to think of Nicholas in agonising pain, and probably terrified as well. But Simon was right - it was better to imagine it now, and not be shocked or panicked into being good for nothing at the time. "The - the recovery position. Will be useful."

"Just so. He'll be in good hands with you, David, until the medical personnel arrive. I have no fears for him on that account. And I'm sure he'll find your presence a great comfort."

He asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"I don't think so, sir. It seems you're aware of the important matters, and I'm sure your research has detailed far more."

Dave was quiet for a time. Mentally girding himself. Hoping that such preparation would never be called on. At last he thought to say, "If his family are concerned - Would you reassure them? I'll do my very best for him. I really will."

"They know as much, sir, but I'll tell Lord Goring that we've spoken, if I may."

"Of course."

Another pause lengthened. Dave must have been looking a bit lost, as Simon softly said, "Don't worry unnecessarily, Dave. Nicholas leads a healthy life. He does what he can to minimise the potential for problems. And he's still young. There'll be time to worry more when he's older."

"I hope so. Yes."

"There's every chance that he'll enjoy a long life. Whatever happens, though, if he's shared his life with you, then he'll want for nothing more. He'll have no regrets."

Dave had coloured up again, but he glanced at Simon and nodded his thanks.

"And you, sir?" Simon asked lightly. "Are you all right? It can't be easy for you. Nicholas isn't the only person for us to worry about."

Which Dave appreciated, he really did, though he brushed off Simon's concern. "Oh,
I'll
be all right. Like you said: nothing more. I don't want for anything more."

"Then bless you, Dave, for being your own good self."

At which point Dave stood, muttered his thanks, shook Simon's hand, and made himself scarce.

There didn't seem to be any order in which the extended family sat down for meals, with three exceptions: Richard, the earl, always sat at the head of the table; Robert, his eldest son and heir, always sat somewhere around the middle; and Robert's wife Penelope always sat at the far end. Dave assumed that Penelope had become the lady of the house after Nicholas's mother died a few years before.

Otherwise, people sat quite randomly, depending on whim or on who they were already having a conversation with. It had felt a bit disorienting at first, but Dave soon decided he liked the informality - especially when contrasted with the dauntingly old dining room, where they were surrounded by the sort of tapestries and paintings Dave associated with the dustiest museums. There was a great long table set with fine china that put the set he'd inherited from his grandmother to shame, and glasses that were probably crystal or something - different sizes and shapes for different drinks - and cutlery that was probably real silver. Still, everyone seemed far more concerned about having fun - and talking over each other and making sure the kids were okay - than bothering over whether Dave was using the right knife.

As they gathered for lunch that day, Richard came into the room just after Dave and Nicholas, and murmured, "Perhaps you'd sit by me today, David."

"Oh. Sure. Thanks." He looked at Nicholas's father, and saw at a glance that Simon must have already told Richard of his conversation with Dave. Richard looked back at him with solemn gratitude, and nodded. Then a sweeping gesture invited him to sit at the earl's right - which even Dave knew was a place of privilege. He'd been invited to sit there for the first family dinner he'd attended, as well.

Nicholas didn't seem to make anything of it, other than perhaps accepting this as Dave's due. He followed Dave, though chatting away to his sister Lilibet, and claimed the seat to Dave's right by standing there with his hands on the back of the chair. Young Robin made the most of Nicholas's distraction, however, by nipping in to sit down beside Dave.

"Oh! Cheeky!" cried Nicholas - who promptly made sure to claim the next chair along. Lilibet sat on his far side, and picked up the briefly interrupted conversation.

Robin chuckled in glee, and grinned winningly at Dave. Robin was all of ten years old, and the most delightfully innocent flirt. Dave smiled back at him, and winked, which made the boy chuckle again.

"Robin," said Richard, "perhaps you'd let Nicholas and David enjoy being together for this little while. I suppose it mightn't mean very much to some, but they recently became engaged."

Nicholas glanced at Dave, though he must already know that Dave didn't mind. It wasn't as if Dave didn't have plenty of Nicholas's undivided attention at other times … "It's all right, Father. I can share.
To a point
," Nicholas added in ironically severe tones to Robin.

"You'd think Robin would be jealous," one of the other adults commented. A sister-in-law, Dave thought. Which would make her Amanda or Christine.

"You'd think he'd hate him," someone else down the far end of the table muttered under his breath.

Robert commented, "Oh, I think Robin saw pretty quickly that he'd lost that one - and if you can't beat 'em, join 'em!"

And Robin was still beaming at Dave almost as broadly as Nicholas did, apparently perfectly used to being teased about his partialities. Dave laughed, and chucked him under the chin - and wondered if Robin mightn't faint with happiness.

Once they'd all been served and were more settled, Richard asked Dave and Nicholas, "Have you two made any plans?"

"Uh - Tour of the garage this afternoon," Dave supplied. Too late, he realised what Richard really meant, and lamely concluded, "I hear you have quite a collection of cars."

"We do. Rather an indulgence in this day and age, I'm afraid, but please make yourself at home there, if that's where your interests lie."

"Thank you. I will."

After a moment Nicholas answered the real question. "I know it's not much time to organise everything, Father, but we thought we'd hold the wedding in three months, if that's all right - "

"Six months," Dave quietly put in. "We talked about
six
months."

"No, it's fine," Nicholas reassured him. "Three months. Apart from anything else, I'd like to have the reception in the garden, and late October is probably doable, but winter certainly isn't!" Upon which thought he got distracted by his own fancies. "Although what if it snowed … ? That would be amazing! A real white wedding! Like in
Camelot
, you know? With the sled and the furs …"

"A
white
wedding," someone muttered, and someone else snorted - and Dave felt like hitting them, family or not. He remembered Denise once remarking, '
Everyone
deserves to wear white on their wedding day, if that's what they want.'

Penelope said, rather more reasonably, "Nicholas, I don't think even you could stage manage the weather, I'm sorry, and a slushy wedding would be so
dreary
."

Nicholas laughed under his breath, though it sounded a bit forced. "All right, the end of October. Reception in the garden, if we can."

"And the ceremony?" Richard asked.

"Just a few of us in town, I thought - the two of us and witnesses - and then come back to everyone here."

He turned on his seat towards Dave. "We haven't talked about this yet. You'd better tell us what you'd like."

"It's fine," Dave said. "Sounds good so far." Though he took the opportunity to lean in closer over Robin's head and mutter, "Don't have to wear white, do I? Or
do
I … ?"

Nicholas laughed more genuinely, and answered so that everyone might hear him. "No, we'll wear morning suits. You'll look very dapper, I promise."

"
Mourning
suits … ?"

"No, uh - I - " Nicholas gestured at himself, as if about to launch into an explanation, before realising it was hopeless. "We can talk about that later. I'll show you mine - though of course I'd like for us all to have new ones."

"Right," said Dave, a bit shortly. Hadn't he already told Nicholas that he'd never once worn a suit? If he hadn't worn one for his dad's funeral, then he didn't see why he should wear one now.

The pause threatened to become a difficult silence, until Richard smoothly asked, "Wouldn't you like to hold the ceremony here as well, Nicholas? That would seem appropriate."

"Ah, but we'd have to apply for a licence to hold weddings and partnership ceremonies, and that would mean
anyone
could get hitched here, so - unless you want to go into business as an event venue … ?"