Page 57 of Familiar Things New

“Worse,” Andrew said before letting out a long breath. “Unfortunately.”

Sympathy pulled at Edwin’s heart. “You should stay off of it.”

“I know. Maybe once we’re back home, I can rest. At least, I can try to. But right now, I have to finish cleaning up.”

“Do you want some help?” Edwin asked. “I can do most of it for you.”

Andrew’s small smile broadened. “Thank you. I’d love some.”

***

After a slightly uncomfortable breakfast, Edwin was ready to return home. Despite fixing things with Andrew, Edwin had yet to say more than five words to William since the previous evening. He couldn’t help but still felt slighted on Agnes’s behalf. Especially after what he had learned over breakfast.

According to William’s uncle, it was his sincerest hope, as well as the hope of some other members of William’s extended family, that William and Amelia would eventually marry.

Upon hearing that remark, Edwin had nearly choked on a spoonful of eggs. William must have noticed whatever shocked or sour or downright angry expression he’d proceeded to make for the remainder of that horrible meal, as well as afterward, because he had yet to say more than five words to Edwin, either.

Now, the three of them were seated in William’s fancy train car, waiting to begin the journey home. Edwin was in the corner, sitting by himself on a Chesterfield, his luggage taking up the remainder of the seat in an effort to prevent William from trying to sit with him. Edwin wouldn’t have minded sitting with Andrew, of course, but he hadn’t wanted to give William the opportunity to snag the seat himself. So, William and Andrew were sitting together instead, happily chattering on about photography.

Edwin shifted uncomfortably on the leather seat as the train lurched forward. He crossed his legs. And then uncrossed them. Murmured conversation between William and Andrew invaded his ears, and he wished he could cover them with a pillow. Oh, what a long fucking ride this would be.

Looking out the window, Edwin scowled at the buildings as the train zoomed through the city. He wondered for how long he’d have to hate William like this. Sooner or later, William would have to make a choice. Either he’d come to his senses and marry Agnes, or he’d have to confess to her that his family was matching him up with someone else and admit that he was too spineless to do anything about it.

Edwin’s scowl deepened. Dammit, he hoped William would choose Agnes.

After the hope crystalized in Edwin’s mind, he was hit with a pang of unease as he then realized what such a thing might mean for him and his future. Yes, he wanted William to choose Agnes, but if William ever followed through with marrying her, then everything in his life would only become more complicated. Not only regarding his employment at the estate (though that would obviously be a concern, too), but things with his family would become more complicated as well. Agnes becoming a member of the Whitney family would mean that Edwin would have to reveal who he was. Who he was and who he had once been. And there was no way his confession wouldn’t lead to trouble—of a legal nature or a social one or both.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Edwin tried to calm himself by taking a few cleansing breaths. Given his situation, he ought to have been happy that William’s family was pushing William to marry someone like Miss Amelia Bidwell.

But, oh, hell, Edwin couldn’t be happy. Because he loved his sister. He loved her, and he wanted her to be happy as well. And therefore, no matter how nonsensical it was for him to feel the way he did right then, he couldn’t manage to not loathe William a little for the manner in which things were unfolding, even as his fear over the Whitneys ever finding out his secret was making him feel nauseated enough to retch.

Minutes later, William’s and Andrew’s laughter floated through the train car, and Edwin gritted his teeth. He and William would be fine eventually. Regardless of what happened. Even if William married Amelia or some other woman who wasn’t Agnes, he and William would mend their friendship sooner or later.

But in the meantime, before Edwin inevitably let himself internalize the fact that, logically, this was probably for the best, at least when it came to his own life and safety, he’d stay mad on behalf of his little sister.

And, perhaps, he’d stay a little mad at himself as well.

***

Smushed next to Andrew in the carriage, Edwin steeled himself as his brewing indignation slowly cooled, and soon, thanks to Andrew’s closeness, all he was able to feel was a constant rumble of want.

Andrew’s hand was positioned next to Edwin’s thigh. Every couple of blocks, Andrew moved it a little, and each rub of Andrew’s fingers against Edwin’s pant leg sent little tremors of fondness rippling over Edwin’s body, making his heart flutter and cheeks flush. He couldn’t have continued to hold onto his negative emotions regarding William and Amelia Bidwell if he had tried.

He'd fix things with William later. Tomorrow, maybe. Or next week. Whenever. He’d talk to William eventually. But right now, all Edwin cared about was how he might be able to spend more time with Andrew.

“Uhm, Andrew?” Edwin ventured, speaking for the first time since breakfast. Both William and Andrew looked over at him, and William cocked a curious eyebrow. Edwin cleared his throat. “Would you like some help bringing your equipment inside? I was thinking that maybe I could come up to your studio to help you put away some of your solvents. Or . . . whatever else you might need help with. I can even stay for a while to help with other household things, too. Because of your knee.”

“I’d love that, Edwin,” Andrew replied with a huge smile. “Thank you.”

Edwin smiled back. He let his hand fall to his side right on top of Andrew’s, which was still resting between them, and his cheeks burned hotter.

What a perfect moment it was.

After only a couple more minutes, the carriage rolled to a stop in front of Andrew’s boarding house. Edwin reached for the handle and climbed out himself, not interested in waiting for William’s coachman to come around to open the door for him. He shivered a little from the cold as the wind blew past, and he found himself thinking about how incredible it would feel to be snuggled up with Andrew someday.

Regardless of whether such a fantastic thing might ever be possible, he still hoped Andrew would let him stay for a while.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Andrew, Edwin, and William carried Andrew’s photography equipment, as well as Andrew’s and Edwin’s luggage, to the third floor of the boarding house. Because of Andrew’s knee, he only carried his camera bag, leaving the rest for William and Edwin, who both passed Andrew on the stairs a couple of times before the man even made it to his studio once.