lock and then entered. Lamps had already been lit and coals glowed warmly in the grate. Burney was there already, seated at the small table before the fire enjoying a glass of brandy.
“I’d rather thought you might not show,” Burney said, his expression clearly displaying his surprise.
“It’s not outside the realm of possibility. I had second thoughts, obviously. There are always second thoughts about these sorts of things. Don’t you find that to be the case?”
Burney shrugged, obviously attempting to appear casual. “I wouldn’t really know. I haven’t indulged in these sorts of assignations before.”
Averston was somewhat surprised by that. Stepping deeper into the room, he shrugged out of his heavy redingote and settled himself on the chair opposite Burney. “How did you know?”
There was no real question of what they were talking about it. The unspoken thing hovered in the air between them. The tension was palpable and yet strangely comfortable.
“How did I know that I was different?” Burney asked.
Averston wasn’t about to let him get away with being so vague. It needed to be spoken and plainly. “How did you know that you preferred men to women? Was it just something that you were always aware of or was there some great epiphany for you?”
Burney settled back, suddenly at ease now that things were so very much out in the open. “A bit of both, I suspect. I always felt different, I suppose. When I was growing up in the countryside, all the boys were taking bets on who could kiss a girl first. I won the bet, but I hated all of it. She was a lovely girl… baker’s daughter.” The last was offered with a self-deprecating laugh. “But it didn’t feel right to me. Then I was sent away to school. And if there is one thing that you can count on occurring at a boy’s boarding school, it’s a certain degree of… let’s call it experimentation, shall we?”
“And that did feel natural to you?” Averston questioned.
“Yes,” Burney replied. “And you… how did you know?”
“I’ve always known,” Averston said. “From the moment I understood that one day I would be expected to marry a woman and produce an heir, I’ve known.”
Burney placed his glass on the table. “Do you ever think a time will come when we’re not persecuted for not loving at the direction of others?”
“Is that what this is? Love?” Averston asked, his lips quirking in a sardonic half-smile. His grandmother’s words returned to him, taunting him from the darkest and deepest shadows of his mind.
“Lust, then. But surely two men can love one another, or two women, just as easily as a man and woman can love one another. Can’t they?”
Averston shrugged. “Love is hardly something I’d hazard to have an opinion on as it is not something I have ever experienced.”
“Never?” Burney asked. “You’ve really never fancied yourself in love with anyone… man or woman?”
“No,” Averston said. “I don’t think love exists. I think it’s a pretty word people wrap around the dirty things they want to do in private so they don’t have to feel guilt or shame.”
Burney shook his head. “That’s a very sad way of looking at things.”
“Perhaps. But it is a realistic one… don’t fancy us in love, Mr. Burney. I’m not even certain I like you yet,” Averston stated. “But you are remarkably handsome and you remind me what it felt like to be a younger man, not quite so burdened with bitterness.”
“Then how do I make you like me? For that’s a start, isn’t it?”
Averston smiled. “So it is.” But he said nothing further, he simply rose to his feet and grasped the other man’s hand, pulling him to standing as well. They were of similar height, so much so that they were nose to nose and only the space of a breath separated their lips. “I find that a kiss is usually a good way to start.”
“Come to my sister’s debut tomorrow night,” Burney said. From the widening of his eyes, it was quite apparent that it had been an impulsive invitation.
Averston cocked one eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”
“Because we are friends,” Burney said. “Because we might be able to slip away for a moment alone together.”
“And because having a duke in attendance, even one on a tight string such as I am, would cement your sister’s success?” Averston suggested.
“I won’t deny that it would help Amelia… but that isn’t why I asked,” Burney said. “It is possible that I like you just for