The Garden's End (MLM)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

                Thomas had left no more than an hour ago, but already the manor was preparing for their following guest; Lord Garrick. On the one hand, Pip was glad for the distraction. On the other, he knew that the longer he put off speaking to Oliver, the harder it would become.

He thought if he could simply fall into his arms, if he could feel Oliver's lips against his own, it would erase any doubt or unease left. Now all he had to do was believe that.

Oliver had touched him in his brother's presence. Perhaps he had even hoped to confess their romance to Thomas? Pip wanted to tell Oliver that his brother and mother were to return in a month's time for Christmas. Surely, that would be the perfect time to tell everyone.

The thought was not as reassuring as Pip hoped it would be. It would not right the wrongs that Oliver had committed against him when Andrew had threatened him. It would not so easily restore Pip's faith in him. And there was a nagging doubt that Pip did not dare humour . . .

Someone very suddenly snapped their fingers in front of Pip's face, jerking him out of his thoughts. He blinked to find Lord Westcott raising a brow at him.

"Did you hear me?" he said.

"Er . . ."

He rolled his eyes, but did not look at Pip long. He did not seem to be able to, while Pip struggled to look away. More than once, he caught Oliver's eyes on him, his expression unreadable.

This time, as Lord and Lady Hewitt could not be expected to wait in the pouring rain with umbrellas alongside the rest of them, they remained inside, being tended to by servants, while Lord Westcott, Pip, and Oliver watched as Lord Garrick's carriage strolled in through the golden gates.

"You don't have to be out here, you know," said Lord Westcott to Oliver.

Oliver smirked. "I do if Pip's here."

Lord Westcott's jaw clenched and Pip knew there was a biting response waiting on his tongue. Then he looked away. "Suit yourself."

"Are you cold?" asked Oliver, and Pip, startled, shook his head.

"'M fine," he murmured. "Thank you."

Oliver glanced at his brother to make sure he couldn't see them, and he lowered his umbrella slightly to hide his face as he mouthed the words; Are you coming tonight?

Pip's heart did not race as it used to. But no, he silently scolded himself. That was not loyal. That was not helping either of them.

So Pip pressed his lips together in a small smile and nodded slightly. Oliver looked so pleased that, for a moment, Pip felt guilt for doubting them.

"So," said Oliver, refreshed. "I thought Lord Garrick preferred travelling at night?"

"If you could spare me your useless comments whilst he's here," grunted Lord Westcott. "I'd be very appreciative."

He seemed to be in foul spirits, and Oliver seemed to take even greater joy in that.

The carriage stopped, and Lord Garrick spread his arms before he was out, his footman carrying an umbrella above his head.

"Robert!" he chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped down, his hands on his big stomach. "How are you, my boy? How are you?"

"Good, thank you," said Lord Westcott with a slight bow of his head. "And yourself?"