from the cage to the top of a wooden glass-fronted cabinet where Mabel kept her best china. “He loves you not.”
Next was the sideboard. “He loves you.”
The mantelpiece. “Woo-hoo! He loves you not.”
She paused on the coal scuttle to whistle tunelessly, then shrieked, “He loves you,” only to hop to the tea table and intone mournfully, “he loves you not.”
Finally, Nell Gwyn did something she had never done before. She landed on Kit’s shoulder and rubbed her feathered head against his hair, whistling again. “He loves you.”
And fell silent.
For a few moments, no one said anything, waiting. Then Nell Gwyn flapped back over to her cage and hopped inside, picking up a nut from the floor of the cage, which she began to tear open.
Kit looked at Mabel, wide-eyed. She had tears in her eyes.
“Well in that case,” she said, “you’d better have your duke, I suppose.”
Henry arrived at five minutes to seven.
“He’s keen,” Tom commented unprofessionally, leaning in the doorway of Kit’s private sitting room. “You should let him kick his heels for a while.”
Kit chuckled. “I’m too old for that sort of nonsense. Show him up.”
“I thought you were having supper with him?” Tom said, surprised.
“I’ll have a supper tray sent up later,” Kit said casually.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Tom crowed.
“Oh, be quiet,” Kit said crossly, but his mouth twitched and Tom was laughing as he left.
A few minutes later, Tom was back, swinging the door open and announcing, “His grace, the—”
“That’s enough, Tom, thank you,” Kit said. “Let Henry in.”
Tom bit his lip, “Very good, sir,” he said, his voice thick with suppressed laughter. He stood aside and Henry passed him, walking into the room.
Kit was already on his feet and walking forward.
They came together in the middle of the little sitting room, both smiling. Kit was vaguely aware of the door closing, but he did not look away from Henry’s dear, smiling face.
“Kit,” Henry murmured, “Christopher. I’ve missed you.”
“It’s only been a few hours,” Kit scoffed, but his tone was fond.
“Has it? I’ve been wretched without you,” Henry said. He set his hand against Kit’s cheek and tilted his face up, his expression soft with affection. “I have things to tell you,” he said.
“And I you,” Kit replied. “But you go first.”
“All right,” Henry said. “May I kiss you before I begin?”
Kit grinned. “You may.”
Henry grinned back and bent his head, capturing Kit’s lips in a warm, soft kiss that made Kit’s legs go weak.
When they broke apart, Henry said happily, “I told Freddy about you.”
“What?” Kit exclaimed, shocked.
“In fairness, he had guessed,” Henry said. He was smiling.
He was happy.
“Now you,” he said.
Kit shook his head. “No, wait. What did you tell him about me exactly?”
Henry smoothed his big hand over Kit’s hair, his expression fond. “That I love you.”
Kit stared at him, amazed. “He must have been shocked.”
“He… surprised me,” Henry said. “Turns out that Freddy knows more than I could ever have guessed.” He smiled. “Now tell me your news.”
Kit gazed at him, staring at those familiar grey eyes, loving the happiness he saw there. “I’m selling Redford’s,” he said simply.
“What?” Henry exclaimed. “But you—wait—you’ll be free, and financially independent?”
Kit grinned. “I will.”
“And does that mean that you’re willing to consider some other changes in your life? So that we can be together?” Henry said breathlessly.
Kit nodded, his smile feeling irrepressible. “I want to be with you too, Henry.”
“Bloody hell!” Henry whispered. He blinked hard, then dropped to his knees and pressed his face against Kit’s stomach, clutching him close, his arms strong bands around Kit’s waist.
Kit’s stared down at him, stupefied. Slowly, carefully, he stroked Henry’s dark, silvered hair with gentle, careful touches.
At length, Henry raised his head, meeting Kit’s worried gaze with damp eyes. “I was afraid,” he said hoarsely. “I thought you might palm me off with some kindly nonsense about seeing me every once in a while when you had time.” He shook his head. “You seemed so uncertain this morning.”
“I had some sense talked into me by a parrot,” Kit said, laughing when Henry blinked. He stroked Henry’s hair again, and said gently, “I don’t quite know what our future will look like. We need to think about that. I want to see Clara and Peter well settled, and I have to make sure the sale is properly taken care of and all my staff are provided for—including my over-familiar footman who just isn’t cut out for that sort of work.” He paused. “And then we have