Chapter Text
“Letter for you, Anish,” Paola says, handing him an envelope. “From Turin. You know someone in Turin?”
Nish takes the letter, glancing at the return address. There’s no real name, but there’s only one person in Italy who would be trying to reach him. And that’s his hand. And he knew Gian would be heading to Turin after Nish went back to England. “Thank you, Paola,” he says, heading up the stairs to his room to get some privacy as he reads the letter.
He sits on his bed, smoothing the letter out on his lap. Gian has a beautiful hand, smooth and fluid.
My Dearest Nish, the letter reads, in English, thankfully. Nish has been teaching himself Italian for Gian, but he’s no good hand at it. I have found myself in a bit of trouble – things I can’t risk writing down on paper. I’m leaving Turin. I’m leaving Italy. You gave me your address before you left, in case I would change my mind and come to join you. Well, Nish, this is me coming to join you. I don’t know when you can expect me or how long it shall take me to get there, but this letter should arrive before me. I cannot wait to see you again, I hope you shall have somewhere to put me up.
Nish looks up from the letter and sets it on his desk. He stands, walking into the hallway, slightly listless. He ends up knocking at Claudine’s door.
“Claudine?” he calls, and then, seeing Betty and Paola down the hall, adds a quick, “songbird?”
The door opens. “Yes?” she asks with a sweet smile. Her lipstick is smudged.
“Can I come in?” The door opens wider, and Nish steps inside. She’s in her pyjamas, with Bella sitting on her bed. Nish closes the door behind him with a soft laugh. “You’re always here.”
“We’re growing to be close friends, Nish,” Bella says.
“What’s wrong, hon?” Claudine asks, stepping next to Nish and glancing at his face. She reads him like a damned book. “You look sad.”
“I received a letter from Gianluca.”
“Is he alright?”
“He is. Something happened, he wouldn’t write what, he was probably worried about the letter being read. But he’s coming here. To this house.”
“Damn,” Claudine mutters. “Where are you supposed to put him? I’d say your room, but…”
“No, there are already standing rumors I’m not man enough. We have no empty beds, except for Connie’s and I absolutely cannot put Gian somewhere that used to be servants quarters.”
“Why did you put Connie in the servants quarters?”
“She asked for a smaller room. Bella, I have to admit, I think there’s only one answer.” Nish runs a hand through his hair. “There’s only one room with an empty bed, as Rose left with Connie.”
“We cannot put him with Lucian!” Bella exclaims. “Nish, you still love Luce, and Gian is your lover.”
“And Gian is jealous of Lucian, yes,” Nish fills in quickly. “But there’s no other choice. He can’t come into my room, nor anyone else's. Now, I’d rather Lucian doesn’t learn what I am, and I’m sure that’s harder once I room him with my lover, but I have no choice, really.”
“Do you want Bella to tell Lucian?” Claudine asks, wrapping an arm around Bella’s shoulder. “Or do you want to do it?”
“It’s my house, my lover, and my best friend. I’ll tell him.” Nish sighs and brushes non-existent crumbs off his suit. “Thank you.”
“Always, hon,” Claudine says.
Nish slips out of the room, straightening his tie despite the lack of need for it. Lucian’s room is close, and he raps quickly on the door. Heavy footsteps, and then it’s swinging open to Lucian’s smiling face.
“Hello, Nish!”
“Hello, Lucian.” Nish stands awkwardly by the door, fidgeting with his long fingers. “I have a favor to ask you.”
Lucian turns, inviting Nish into his room. The door swings closed behind them, and Lucian sits on the edge of his bed. Rose’s bed sits untouched, perfectly made. “Anything for you,” Lucian says, “promise, Nish.”
“You may not say that when you hear what I want.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You have an empty bed.”
“Yeah, now that Rose is with Connie.”
“I have a guest coming, and I don’t have a room for him. There’s room in women’s quarters, but people will talk, and I was hoping he could room with you.”
“Of course!”
“Excellent.” Nish grasps Lucian’s arms firmly. “Thank you. I could not be more relieved.”
“Who is it? Your brother? Some old school mates?”
“I fear you are not going to like it much,” Nish says, unable to meet Lucian’s gaze.
“Nothing is so horrid.”
“It’s Gianluca.”
Lucian blinks. “Gianluca.” Nish nods. “Er, uh, why?” Lucian stutters over his tongue, coming up with just saying, “why?” again.
“He’s in trouble, I said he could stay here. Don’t stress! I need your bed.”
“I’ll let him, of course, I promised. I was just wondering.” Lucian nods his head, maybe too nervously. He feels a little frantic. Why does he feel a little frantic? It’s just that Gianluca is from Portofino, but he’s not from the Hotel, and he’s not one of those that got all swirled into their little family from the Hotel. He’s only for Nish.
But Nish smiles gratefully at Lucian, and he’s beautiful, and Lucian would do anything for him. “Thank you,” Nish says. He beams, radiant, and pats Lucian’s face. “Thank you so much.”
Lucian gives him a hesitant smile. “Always.”
Nish practically skips out of the room. Lucian watches the door swing shut behind him. And the thing is, he’s upset. He knows he shouldn’t be: there’s no harm in Gianluca coming. Not even in having to share his room with Gianluca. It’ll be no different than sharing his room with Rose.
But Nish loves Gianluca so much. And it’s just, well, Lucian feels like maybe Nish is leaving him behind for Gianluca.
Would he have been that excited if Lucian was coming to stay? If Lucian didn’t live here but was coming?
Lucian doesn’t know. He doesn’t like not knowing. And he can’t ask Nish how would you react if I was in Gianluca’s place. That would be queer.
He needs a smoke.
Life continues on, until Paola comes in with the mail and there’s a small paper tabloid on top of it. She doesn’t place it with the other letters, instead handing it straight to Claudine. A photograph of Claudine and Nish spreads over the cover. Them, when Nish accompanied Claudine into town one of the several times they’ve gone while preparing for the wedding. Nish’s arm around Claudine’s waist, Claudine smiling at him.
Even though Claudine’s fame spends more time in Paris, the papers seem rather overjoyed for her to be engaged to a man they know nothing about.
“They’ll be coming to the house,” Paola says, knowing tone to her voice. “Wanting to see you and Anish.”
“Dammit,” Claudine curses daintily. “We may be swarmed.”
And then Bella hurries in through the door, panicked look on her face. “Claudine, Cecil is visiting.”
“Today?”
Bella groans. “Today!”
They manage to let Cecil in without anyone looking at him without much of a nasty look on their face. Almost nobody in the house likes Cecil. They’re typically aware of his sins, and like Bella too much to have any appreciation for her bastard husband.
Bella and Lucian meet him in the parlor.
Cecil looks Bella over with a judging look. She shifts uncomfortably. Her dress, long and cream colored, is stained in dirt. This is a new development, as she enjoys working out in the lavender fields on the estate. But it’s clear that Cecil won’t care for any excuse: he just wants to judge. He sniffs.
“Cecil,” she says. “What are you doing here?”
“I said I would help your… pet singer and pet immigrant with the wedding.”
“Father!” Lucian says. “You can’t say that about Nish! He’s my dearest friend.”
“Yes.” Cecil’s face tightens. “That he certainly is.” Bella recognizes it, even if Lucian doesn’t, as an indicator of thinking his son is homosexual. Or at least that Nish is a queer. “Where is the American singer?”
“She just got back from picking up her dress. She’s putting it away,” Bella says. And then, before Cecil can come up with another demeaning name for Nish, she adds, “Nish will be here soon, he was talking to the cook.”
“Still Betty? I don’t know why you love the woman so much,” Cecil says derisively. “She’s hardly the best cook.”
“We’re friends, Cecil.”
Before the man can complain anymore, Nish and Claudine come through the door. They’re good at the facade, Nish’s arm wrapped around her waist, guiding her slightly.
“Mr. Ainsworth,” Claudine says, voice charming but eyes certainly not. “Wonderful for you to come and comment on our wedding.”
“Where are you planning on having it?” he asks without any pleasantries.
“Here.”
“Not a church?”
“I’m a Baptist and Nish is a Hindu. Why would we hold it in a CoE church? I like the house. I want to get married among the lavender.” Claudine squeezes Nish’s side. “Won’t it be beautiful?”
“Gorgeous, songbird,” Nish says, kissing the top of her head. He manages to act like he’s barely talking about the lavender, and her instead.
It takes two hours of debating with Cecil for him to finally leave. Bella collapses and slouches down into the couch cushions. “I wish I could go back to tell younger me not to marry that man.”
“Then I wouldn’t be here,” Lucian comments.
Bella sighs again. “Or Alice, I suppose, yes. I love you two, I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”
“Not even to never have to deal with Father?”
“Not even to not have to deal with your bloody father, no. You and Alice are more important to me.” She reaches out to squeeze Lucian’s hand.
Lucian leaves for dinner soon enough, leaving Bella, Claudine, and Nish to themselves. “I’m worried,” Bella confesses. “I fear we’ll need to conceive something in case he gets any inkling of the affair between Claudine and myself.”
“I can deliver you false letters sent from Marco,” Nish says. “Next time he’s here.”
Bella grins. “That works!”
The first few tabloids are funny. Claudine and Nish make an effort to be seen in public. The pictures are flattering. And then the critiques start coming in.
“Shit,” Claudine says, opening one magazine to a centerfold page. The headline is bold: Ainsworth mentions lack of affection between Pascal and fiance Sengupta.
“That snake,” Bella hisses. “I hate him.”
“We all hate him,” Nish says, sipping at a glass of wine. “This is fixable. The other Ainsworth just has to start talking to the tabloids too. Claudine can start sleeping in my room. Us sleeping together out of wedlock will certainly be a turn for a story, and then we only need one more thing before the wedding. And then people will lay off. It’s barely interesting anyways.”
They try it that night. Nish’s bed is large enough that they barely have to touch, just lay facing each other. Claudine giggles.
“I feel like I’m sleeping over with a friend again.”
“I fear I don’t want to know what you did when sleeping over with friends,” Nish comments drily.
“Oh, none of that,” she laughs. “They were all very much into men. Had no idea about me, would have screamed if they did. No, they were all very chaste when it came down to it. I could paint your nails if people wouldn’t talk.”
“I would like that,” Nish says honestly. “If people wouldn’t talk.”
They’ve just gotten Cecil out of the house with a noted “Bella! A letter from Marco!” when there’s another ring at the door.
“Bella, could you get it?” Nish asks, because Lucian is already halfway through a rant.
“I don’t understand! You said you wouldn’t sleep with her! It was important to you, and now she’s spending the night in your room?”
“Lucian, please,” Nish sighs. “We’re engaged, it’s nothing unheard of.”
“You said you would wait! You said you didn’t want to be one of those men.”
“She’ll be my wife in a month, Lucian.” Nish massages the bridge of his nose. “I am allowed to share a bed with my soon to be wife. I’m not loving and leaving her like other men. I am still completely committed.”
“Out of wedlock–”
“I hardly think you are one to comment on out of wedlock.” Nish has been trying not to raise his voice. He is failing.
“But for you–”
They get cut off by a smooth accented voice. “Nish?”
Nish spins around. “Gian!” He says with a grin, and then remembers the argument he and Lucian were just having. “How much of that did you hear?”
“Quite a lot.”
Nish sighs. “Alright. Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping and give you a quick overview of everything.” He takes Gian’s bag. That may have been the worst conversation for his lover to walk into.