Chapter Text
Truth be told, Martin was glad to be going home. Of course having Sammy close at every hour of the day had been exhilarating — at university, they didn’t share lodgings, and sometimes a few days could pass before they saw each other. But, Martin could now say, that still wasn’t worth having to put up with his father and brother; they had once again proven themselves impossible to be around.
The horse was lame, and the Nichollses couldn’t afford a motorcar, which was why Sammy and Martin, carrying their suitcases, had to go to the train station on foot. At least on these deserted, dusty Somerset roads, they could hold hands while they walked. It was such a rare treat that Martin still felt as giddy as a child about it.
Sammy was whistling ‘Violets’ and lightly swinging his and Martin’s entwined hands back and forth. His suitcase was stuffed to the brim with books Victoria had lent him. She had needed two trips to carry them from her room to his, and the suitcase had only closed because he’d put his knee on it and forced it shut with the weight of his body. How he managed to carry it — one-handed! — was beyond Martin.
“I’ve a penny,” Sammy suddenly said, cutting himself off mid-whistle.
“Huh?”
Sammy was grinning. “For your thoughts, darling.”
“Oh,” Martin said, and laughed. He lifted Sammy’s hand to kiss his knuckles. “Nothing, really. Just glad to be alone with you.”
Sammy pulled him closer and planted a big, cheerful kiss right on Martin’s lips.
“I’m sorry about my family,” Martin said when Sammy withdrew. “If I’d known how beastly they’d treat you, I’d have warned you to stay far away.”
“Oh, it’s all right. One or two altercations hardly spoiled things. And besides, Victoria was a delight. I’m glad to have finally met her.”
“You’ve taken a shine to her, haven’t you.” Martin bumped his shoulder into Sammy’s side.
“She’s an extraordinary young woman. That mind of hers is going to take her far, you mark my words!”
“Maybe you should marry her,” Martin said.
Sammy snorted. “I’m not going to marry her. She’d refuse me, in any case.”
Martin wanted to deny it, but remained quiet. He actually wasn’t sure. She had denounced the entire institution of marriage more than once; most memorable was when she had declared, to the whole family one dinnertime, that married women had no more rights than a heifer. But Victoria had certainly liked Sammy — liked him a great deal more than any of the friends John had introduced her to. With those, she’d been polite, but distant and shallow. She definitely didn’t lend them books or play tennis with them.
So instead, Martin decided to play at being offended. “What, is my sister not good enough for you?” He smiled as he said it.
But Sammy surprised him, as he so often managed to do. Instead of continuing with the joke, he became immediately serious. He stopped, letting his suitcase fall to the ground. He took Martin by the shoulders and turned him so they were face-to-face. Making the most intense eye contact, he said, “I need to make one thing very clear, Martin. Victoria is not the Nicholls sibling I want at my side for the rest of my life.” He peered at Martin’s face urgently — anxiously, even. “Do you understand me?”
“I do.”
Sammy then kissed him, confident, even brisk. It was a promise of a kiss.
A vow.