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Authors: Jamie Fessenden
Tags: Romance, Gay, M/M romance, holiday, glbt, dreamspinner press, Novella, Historical--European, jamie fessenden
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wrenched from him. He was lost, floundering
in a chaos of mixed emotions. It threatened to overwhelm him.
He needed to find something to hang onto. He needed….
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
64
Andrew.
For the first time, his thoughts turned to something other
than his own turmoil. Andrew must be in Hell. Thomas had let
him run out without a word. How terrible he must be feeling,
thinking… God knew what. If he was still at all the person
Thomas had thought him to be, he would be blaming himself.
And though he might have instigated it, Thomas couldn‘t let
him shoulder all of the blame. He‘d done nothing to stop
Andrew.
Thomas got up, bracing himself against the bedpost to
steady himself, as the effects of the brandy hadn‘t quite worn
off. Then he found his way across the room to the door that
connected it to Andrew‘s room. He expected it to be locked, but
it opened easily.
The candles were all out, but the moonlight coming
through the draperies illuminated the room faintly, and in that
pale gray light Thomas could see a figure lying in the bed.
―Are you asleep?‖ Thomas asked quietly.
Andrew was slow to respond, and when he did, his voice
sounded dull and listless. ―Don‘t be absurd.‖
Thomas wasn‘t certain what to say. He wanted to tell his
friend that it was all right, that it wouldn‘t change anything.
But it wasn‘t really all right. And it would change things
between them.
He moved to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.
―Don‘t sit so close, Thomas. Please.‖
Andrew was lying fully clothed on top of the blankets.
―It wasn‘t your fault,‖ Thomas said, ignoring the request to
move away.
―Of course it was my fault, you fool,‖ Andrew said bitterly,
―I took advantage of your drunkenness and good nature.‖
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
65
―I wasn‘t that drunk.‖
Andrew drew a ragged breath and turned his face away. It
was then that Thomas noticed the moonlight glinting off the
tears on his face. The first time he had ever seen Andrew cry.
―Thomas, please. Don‘t defend me. I‘ve done a horrid thing.‖
Thomas reached out to touch his arm, but Andrew pulled
away.
―No. It was the brandy. That‘s all. Come morning, we‘ll
laugh it off.‖ He didn‘t really believe that, and neither did
Andrew.
―There‘s nothing to laugh about. Thomas… I love you. I
know it‘s a dreadful thing to tell you, but I can‘t hide it any
longer. I‘m sorry.‖
A chill ran down Thomas‘s spine. He wasn‘t ready for this.
It was too much to cope with. It was as if Andrew were standing
at the bottom of a deep, dark abyss, reaching out a hand to
him, to pull him down….
―Please, Andrew. I…. No friend could ever match you. I
don‘t want this to come between us. But you mustn‘t speak of
it.‖
There was a long silence, before Andrew responded,
―You‘re a good man, Thomas. Anyone else would have thrown
me out of the house.‖
―Never!‖
He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn‘t come.
After a long moment, Andrew rolled away from him. ―Goodnight,
Thomas.‖
There was nothing more Thomas could do or say, so he got
up and went back to his room.
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
66
Chapter 12
IT WAS snowing when Andrew awoke. From his windows, he
could see the fields and pastures behind Barrington Hall, and
the forest beyond, softened by the snow that had accumulated
during the early morning hours, and large flakes drifted down
from the pale gray sky. It was so beautiful and quiet that
Andrew nearly forgot for a moment that his life had been
shattered the night before.
But as he washed his face and shaved, his mind went over
every horrid detail again and again. He remembered how
beautiful Thomas had looked when their eyes met and how
years of resolve had melted away; how he had thought for one
insane moment that Thomas might return his love. He had
reached for what he could
in a chaos of mixed emotions. It threatened to overwhelm him.
He needed to find something to hang onto. He needed….
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
64
Andrew.
For the first time, his thoughts turned to something other
than his own turmoil. Andrew must be in Hell. Thomas had let
him run out without a word. How terrible he must be feeling,
thinking… God knew what. If he was still at all the person
Thomas had thought him to be, he would be blaming himself.
And though he might have instigated it, Thomas couldn‘t let
him shoulder all of the blame. He‘d done nothing to stop
Andrew.
Thomas got up, bracing himself against the bedpost to
steady himself, as the effects of the brandy hadn‘t quite worn
off. Then he found his way across the room to the door that
connected it to Andrew‘s room. He expected it to be locked, but
it opened easily.
The candles were all out, but the moonlight coming
through the draperies illuminated the room faintly, and in that
pale gray light Thomas could see a figure lying in the bed.
―Are you asleep?‖ Thomas asked quietly.
Andrew was slow to respond, and when he did, his voice
sounded dull and listless. ―Don‘t be absurd.‖
Thomas wasn‘t certain what to say. He wanted to tell his
friend that it was all right, that it wouldn‘t change anything.
But it wasn‘t really all right. And it would change things
between them.
He moved to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress.
―Don‘t sit so close, Thomas. Please.‖
Andrew was lying fully clothed on top of the blankets.
―It wasn‘t your fault,‖ Thomas said, ignoring the request to
move away.
―Of course it was my fault, you fool,‖ Andrew said bitterly,
―I took advantage of your drunkenness and good nature.‖
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
65
―I wasn‘t that drunk.‖
Andrew drew a ragged breath and turned his face away. It
was then that Thomas noticed the moonlight glinting off the
tears on his face. The first time he had ever seen Andrew cry.
―Thomas, please. Don‘t defend me. I‘ve done a horrid thing.‖
Thomas reached out to touch his arm, but Andrew pulled
away.
―No. It was the brandy. That‘s all. Come morning, we‘ll
laugh it off.‖ He didn‘t really believe that, and neither did
Andrew.
―There‘s nothing to laugh about. Thomas… I love you. I
know it‘s a dreadful thing to tell you, but I can‘t hide it any
longer. I‘m sorry.‖
A chill ran down Thomas‘s spine. He wasn‘t ready for this.
It was too much to cope with. It was as if Andrew were standing
at the bottom of a deep, dark abyss, reaching out a hand to
him, to pull him down….
―Please, Andrew. I…. No friend could ever match you. I
don‘t want this to come between us. But you mustn‘t speak of
it.‖
There was a long silence, before Andrew responded,
―You‘re a good man, Thomas. Anyone else would have thrown
me out of the house.‖
―Never!‖
He wanted to say more, but the words wouldn‘t come.
After a long moment, Andrew rolled away from him. ―Goodnight,
Thomas.‖
There was nothing more Thomas could do or say, so he got
up and went back to his room.
The Christmas Wager | Jamie Fessenden
66
Chapter 12
IT WAS snowing when Andrew awoke. From his windows, he
could see the fields and pastures behind Barrington Hall, and
the forest beyond, softened by the snow that had accumulated
during the early morning hours, and large flakes drifted down
from the pale gray sky. It was so beautiful and quiet that
Andrew nearly forgot for a moment that his life had been
shattered the night before.
But as he washed his face and shaved, his mind went over
every horrid detail again and again. He remembered how
beautiful Thomas had looked when their eyes met and how
years of resolve had melted away; how he had thought for one
insane moment that Thomas might return his love. He had
reached for what he could
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