“I remembered how much you both loved custard,” she said with a smile.
Rhys had to grin. “I’d forgotten about that,” he said. He turned to Jeremy. “Do you remember? We fought over the last one at Mrs. Southeby’s one night, and Cordelia had to decide who got it.”
“I did,” she said. “And it was very good.”
They all laughed, and Rhys could see Jeremy watching him with relief. He felt a little relieved, too. He’d remembered something. For months it seemed only Jeremy remembered and he’d told Rhys those stories over and over. But Rhys remembered now. Remembered Cordelia’s pretty blue frock, and Jeremy in his dress uniform, and Rhys… He bit his lip. Well, he’d been happy then, and so in love with her.
Mrs. Tuttle cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, missus, and sir,” she said with a little curtsey for Jeremy that had Rhys hiding a smile behind his napkin, “but I’ve got to go. Wasn’t expecting you and I’ve somewhere else to be. I can return later to clean up.”
“Nonsense,” Cordelia said with a smile as she sat down. “I am perfectly capable of cleaning up. I’ve been doing it for months.” She stopped abruptly, staring wide-eyed at him and Jeremy, as if she’d made some egregious faux pas by alluding to their absence. God help them all if they had to tiptoe around that now.
“And you’ve been doing admirably, I’m sure,” Jeremy said, smooth and confident as always. Rhys made a fist in his lap under the table. “But we are here as well, and for tonight shall help. Thank you so much for everything, Mrs. Tuttle.”
The cook blushed. “Oh, it weren’t nothing, sir. Just wait ’til Christmas.” She left them then, and there was an awkward silence.
“Here, let me,” Cordelia said as she picked up a bowl and spooned custard in before passing it to Rhys. He took it, careful not to touch her hand. He’d nearly broken down when she hugged him on the street. It had taken every ounce of control to laugh like a madman instead of cry like a lost child.
“I thought perhaps tomorrow we would go and fetch a Yule log, perhaps some ivy and rosemary,” Cordelia said with false cheer. “We should decorate. Now that you’re home, I mean.”
“Absolutely,” Jeremy said enthusiastically. “We shall have a wonderful Christmas.”
They fell into silence again. The sounds of spoons against china cut the silence as they ate. Rhys was so tense he feared he might shatter. He felt like an interloper with the talk of holiday celebrations.
“Rhys will be staying here,” Jeremy abruptly announced. “Indefinitely.”
Rhys’ gaze flew to Cordelia. She sat there blinking rapidly for a moment. Then she spooned up more custard.
“Of course he will,” she said calmly. “He can help bring the Yule log home.”
Rhys let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and slumped a little in his chair. Cordelia just smiled at him and kept on eating.
The custard sat like a rock in his stomach. He’d had trouble eating since their release. The doctors said it would pass; he simply wasn’t used to good food anymore. That was true. But it seemed as if he was always worried these days. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t remember. He’d thought that would all go away once they got home. He was dismayed to discover it hadn’t.
“I would like some tea,” Cordelia announced. “Would anyone else?”
“Yes,” Rhys said with a relieved sigh. “Tea sounds perfect.”
“Then I shall make you the perfect cup of tea,” she teased. She rose from the table and he and Jeremy came to their feet. He was a little more awkward than Jeremy and he knocked into the table. His back always stiffened up if he sat too long. Cordelia pretended not to notice, but he saw her hesitate and avoid looking at him. He silently cursed. This wasn’t going right at all. He feared nothing would ever be right again.
* * *
As soon as she was alone in the kitchen Cordelia leaned against the wall, out of sight, and bit into the side of her fist to stifle a sob. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. They were all so awkward together. It had never been like that. What weren’t they telling her? She didn’t know what to do.
No, that wasn’t true. She stood up straight and dropped her hand. Then she smoothed the front of her dress and walked purposely to the stove to put the kettle on. She’d promised Rhys some tea, and she would make it. That was what she’d do.
She’d imagined their reunion many times over the past year, since they sailed away, full of confidence and vitality. She’d smiled and waved and later she’d wept in her lonely bed. She’d made promises, to herself and to God, that if they returned safely she’d make things right. She’d been living a lie and she wouldn’t do it anymore.
She was in love with Rhys.
It was…complicated. She loved Jeremy very much, but she’d always been torn between the two men, best friends who had courted her together. Then suddenly, to her regret, Rhys had stepped back and given Jeremy the field and when he’d asked her to marry him she’d naturally said yes. She loved him. But it had been impossible to forget her feelings for Rhys, particularly since he still spent so much time with them.
It would probably hurt Jeremy, and God knew he didn’t deserve that. She only hoped he’d understand that she still loved him very much, as much as Rhys. But life was so terribly short, wasn’t it? She’d nearly lost the opportunity to tell Rhys how she felt. Whether his feelings were the same was immaterial. What mattered was letting him know she cared deeply for him still. Then her conscience would be clear and she’d feel at peace. She’d nearly lost everything that was dear to her. She wouldn’t risk that again. She needed to know that she’d done everything in her power to set things right.
When the tea was ready she took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face before she entered the small dining room. The whole house was small, only three bedrooms. With Rhys staying here it would impossible to avoid him. She silently prayed that her confession would not ruin everything for all of them.
Jeremy watched Cordy sip her tea. She was so beautiful, a perfect English rose, with her light blonde hair and blue eyes and creamy complexion. Just looking at her gave him a sense of peace and security. They were home, and they would never leave again. Rhys couldn’t. He’d been told he’d never be fit for active duty again. And so Jeremy would stay, too, with both of them, if it all worked out.
Cordy put her cup down carefully on the saucer, a barely audible clink the only sound in the room. She nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and then put both hands in her lap. He bet she had them tucked between her legs. She did that when she was nervous. “I…” She hesitated. “I thought of you both every day, every moment, while you were gone.”
Rhys’ teacup hit the saucer so loudly Jeremy was shocked it didn’t shatter. He shoved his chair back from the table and stood so quickly he tottered. His damn back must be hurting again. Cordy gasped and Jeremy leaped to his feet and rounded the table to take his arm. Rhys shook him off impatiently. “I’m sorry, Cordelia, but I’m exhausted. I hope you don’t mind if I go to bed.”
She looked stricken for a moment, as if his discomfort was her fault, and Jeremy silently cursed Rhys. They’d talked about this, talked about bringing it all out in the open as soon as they got home, not lying to Cordy. It was so important that they not lie to her. She was so open, and so devoted, and he couldn’t bear to hurt her that way. She’d understand. He knew her; he knew she would.
“No, no,” she rushed to assure Rhys, standing immediately and bustling about, not looking at either of them. “Of course. How selfish of me not to realize. Let me show you up to the guest room.” She paused again and turned shattered eyes to them. “Your room, I mean. It will be your room now.”
“I can show him,” Jeremy offered quickly. “I remember the way.” He needed to speak to Rhys alone. “You finish your tea, and I’ll be right back.”
She nodded mutely and sat down like a puppet with her strings cut. Rhys stoically stared at the wall. Jeremy wanted to cuff him upside the head. Instead he yanked his arm and dragged him to the stairs.
Once they were in the guest room—which would most certainly not be Rhys’ room—Jeremy turned on him. “What the hell is the matter with you?” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “We agreed. No hiding.”
Rhys ripped off his cravat and swore. “Not tonight, dammit. You’ve just gotten home. She’s your wife. Let her have one night before you topple her world.”
“You are not giving her enough credit.” Jeremy’s reply was stilted as he tried to hold his anger in check.
“What we are asking of her is too much,” Rhys said in an exhausted voice. He sat down wearily on the bed. “I knew it all along, but it was a nice fantasy. It kept us going. But we’re home now, home where what we want is so far beyond the acceptable it’s a crime.”
Jeremy took his shoulders in his hands and shook him gently. Then he lowered himself to his haunches so he could look Rhys in the eyes. “It was more than a fantasy, it was a plan. A plan I’m going to carry out. We will be together, all three of us. You’ll see. Cordy loves you, I know she does.”
“I’m not the man I was.” Rhys’ words hung in the air between them. Jeremy wanted to deny it, but there were no lies between them. Rhys’ crooked smile was bitter. “You know I speak the truth. She cannot love me as I am.”
“I do.” Jeremy made the declaration before Rhys had even finished speaking. “Trust me.” He leaned in, resting his forehead on Rhys’. “Trust me,” he said again in a rough whisper. Then he kissed him. Rhys held him tightly for a moment, and in that moment Jeremy was transported back to Algiers, back to when he’d first held Rhys and helped him through the night. It had been so natural, so perfect, he couldn’t believe it had taken him half a lifetime to realize he was in love with Rhys.
But Rhys hadn’t accepted the inevitable yet. He’d agreed to ask Cordelia to accept both of them, in her bed and her life. They’d spent endless hours talking about her, about how much they both loved her. Jeremy could never deny Rhys the chance to have her love in return. He pushed Jeremy away gently and their lips clung for a moment before Jeremy gave in and leaned back. “You can’t… All of this…” Rhys trailed off and then started again. “We can’t go there, Jeremy. We already ask too much.”
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy lied. He was tired of playing the game with Rhys, pretending that he hadn’t fallen in love with him. “I was just…it’s all so overwhelming.”
“Exactly,” Rhys said. “We’ll do as you want. But not tonight. I’m asking you please, for me, don’t say anything to her tonight. I love her too, you know, and I want her to have this night with you, as if everything is still normal.”
“Everything is still normal,” Jeremy argued. “It’s simply a different normal. For us.”
Rhys laughed without amusement. “Yes. For us. Now go.”
With a weary sigh Jeremy stood. “Fine. But I don’t like it. I don’t like leaving you alone. You won’t sleep, will you?” It was more a statement than a question.
“I’ll try. We’re home now. Perhaps I will.” Rhys wouldn’t meet his eyes, avoiding them as he fussed with folding his cravat and setting it on the bed beside him.
Jeremy let him have his pride. “Good. I hope so.”
Rhys waved him out. “Go. You’ve been waiting almost a year to hold her.”
“So have you.” The words hung there between them.
“I had you,” Rhys finally said. “Now go.”
With regret Jeremy complied with Rhys’ wishes. But guilt nearly crippled him as he closed the door behind him, leaving Rhys alone inside.
Cordelia stood at the counter drying the dishes and sniffling, trying not to actually cry. Rhys had been horrified by her admission. And he should be. She was married to his best friend, his comrade and childhood companion. What had she been thinking, to almost reveal her feelings in such a fashion? She was selfish beyond the extreme. She’d thought the truth would set them all free, but she’d been wrong, hadn’t she?
She loved Jeremy and she was so happy he was back home with her. He would be enough. To think that she might also have Rhys was foolish and naive and dangerous. She ought to just be glad he was still in her life—still alive, and still one of her and Jeremy’s closest friends. She’d see him everyday. She could survive on that and live with her secret love buried in her heart. She sniffled miserably again.
“Here,” Jeremy said quietly from behind her. She jumped in surprise and then a handkerchief was held over her shoulder. She dried her hands on her apron and took the offering.
“I’m sorry,” she said, turning to face Jeremy. “I’m happy you’re home. I am. I’m just a silly watering pot tonight.”
Jeremy simply gathered her in his arms and it felt so good and so right that she lost the battle and gave in to tears. “Oh, Jeremy,” she said brokenly, crying into his shoulder.
“I know, Cordy,” he whispered. “But don’t you see? This is a gift, our returning to you. I didn’t think it would happen.”
“I know.” She stepped back and wiped her runny nose with the handkerchief. This was not what Jeremy needed to see his first night home. “I thought I’d lost you. They told me so once. Told me you were both dead.”
“What?” Jeremy said in shock. He grabbed her shoulders tightly. “We are not dead, Cordy. We are very much alive and back here with you.”
“Have you seen your mother yet?” she asked. “She was here for a long while. She forgave me, I think, for—what was it she accused me of? Bewitching you.” She laughed weakly. “We cried over you together and prayed for your return. I think she’s ready to forgive you for marrying beneath your station.”
Jeremy hugged her again. “I’m glad. I know she and Grandfather paid the ransom for both of us.”
“I begged her to,” Cordelia admitted. “I couldn’t bear the thought of Rhys…” She couldn’t go on, and bit her lip to stem a new flow of tears.
“I’m glad you did. Did she fuss a great deal over it?” Jeremy was rubbing her back soothingly. It was like before, the way he held her and touched her and cared for her. She threw her arms around his neck and held on.
“No.” She rubbed her nose against his neck, longing for his familiar scent. It wasn’t there. She’d have to launder all his shirts and scrub him with her soap and then he’d smell like Jeremy. “She fussed at me for thinking she wouldn’t. She knows how much he means to you.”