“Do more” came a firm voice from the doorway.
That took Eve out of the room in haste. The door shut with a click. Titus and Nico looked at one another.
“Your cousin is remarkable,” Titus said, since nothing better was coming to mind.
“Eve has the backbone of two men, and the common sense of neither. It may run in the family.”
“I can see that. Were you really just playing dead to be convincing?”
“No,” Nico said. “I was not going to leave you alone with those lunatics. How could I?”
The Comte carries a knife, Alma had told him while recounting the incident with Gaskin’s men, and Titus was fairly sure he had held something behind his back throughout the whole little performance. Titus had played out the scene himself, but Nico had been ready to fight for him if he was needed.
“Thank you,” he said. “Nico—”
Nico held out his hands. Titus took them, his stained fingers against Nico’s brown ones, just as when they’d first met. “Nico, you did so much for me. You made me feel I mattered. You noticed me all the time, and acted on what you noticedand—and I have not been used to that. I have been very used to being disregarded because someone else’s desires were more important, and when I thought you had done that to me too, it hurt so much that I couldn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I didn’t try to understand.”
“You should not have had to understand,” Nico said. “I should have told you everything, but I was too much a coward.”
“I think we both made a pig’s ear of it,” Titus said. “You were in an impossible position, and I didn’t help. And when you did try to explain, I was hearing other people, not just you. I decided today, I was going to come after you.”
“Come—toFrance?”
“I didn’t want you to go,” Titus whispered, and Nico’s grip on his hands tightened painfully.
“I did not want to go either. Ididn’tgo. Titus, I swear, if you forgive me now, I will not make it necessary in the future. I will not, I will never disregard you again. And I will love you always, if you let me. I love your courage, and your kindness, and your colours, and your way of being yourself when the world demands we are someone else. You once told me that most things are ugly when we know too much about them—”
“I remember.”
“It isn’t true. The more I know you, the more I want to be with you. And I realise that now you knowme, which is less good, but—”
“I want to be with you too,” Titus whispered. “I have never felt more myself than when I’m with you, and I love everything you do, even the ridiculous things, because I didn’t know anyone could live like this, and I want to and I need you. Please don’t go.”
Nico pulled. Titus pulled at the same time, and then they were jammed up against one another, hands clutching,mouths locked and kissing frantically. Nico’s lips on Titus’s, tongues and teeth and desperation illuminated by the glory of returning hope.
“Mon Caesar,” Nico whispered as they broke for breath.
“My comte. Or not. What name ought I say?”
“Nicholas Kemp for English, Nicolas Perreau in French. Have you a preference?”
“I like you sounding French,” Titus admitted. “Though Perreau might be confusing if Eve is to remain my valet.”
Nico’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Well, if he cares to, but he’s very good and if he wants to be with Alma, it seems the obvious solution for now. Er, I’m saying ‘he,’ but could you clarify—”
“Eve is best understood to be simply Eve,” Nico said. “‘He’ suffices where necessary. Do I understand you have a plan?”
“Well, I was thinking of travelling. The weather is hot, and I should like fresh air, and also Mr. Baynes and Mr. Laxton are about to have an extremely unpleasant time of it, and it is not impossible they will blame me. Well, it will be my fault.”
“Your doing, rather than your fault, and anyway Laxton has larger problems,” Nico said with certainty. “He owes Jacky Gaskin a lot of money and lied to him about it. Nothing good is coming his way. I trust you are not going to feel guilty, mon cher,” he added at Titus’s flinch. “He brought this on himself, and he may take the consequences. Miss Whitecross’s soul will rest easier for it.”
Titus considered his benefactress, and couldn’t argue with that assessment. “What about Baynes?”
“He will scamper back to his rustic solitude and his self-polluted collection and, I hope, live in fear of Bourbon agents forever. He has no reason to bother you further.”
“And the Comte de La Motte is dead. Or is he?”