Chapter Text
It took a few long moments after Richard left for Thomas to recover from the shock.
This stunningly handsome man -- a man he'd basically just met -- wanted to be with him.
Didn't want to be 'just friends' -- wanted to be more.
Had kissed him, even!
Had given him a token, something to remind Thomas of him. Had given him a promise that they would meet again.
Had basically saved his life the night before, by keeping him from going to prison (not to mention from being sacked).
Just half a day ago, Thomas had been living resigned to the idea that he would always be alone. That even in his twilight years, he wouldn't find the happiness that even Mr Carson had finally done, with Mrs Hughes. And then, in twenty-four hours, Thomas had been picked up at a bar by the Webster fellow, and had had men eyeing him at a club full of people just like him -- a place which he never even would have imagined existed -- and now he had a boyfriend.
Thomas had a boyfriend.
Not just a pen-pal -- which was all he'd dare hope for (and for a moment, when Richard asked in strange tones if Thomas thought they were friends, he'd thought Richard was going to refuse to even be that) -- but an honest-to-God sweetheart!
He closed his eyes and touched his lips, trying to relive the feel of Richard's against them. Damn Andy for the interruption! Damn the king for necessitating Andy interrupting them! The butler's heart was still racing, and he wasn't sure if it was because of the kiss, or because they'd almost been caught! (Both, probably.)
Since he wasn't back on duty, he wouldn't be expected upstairs to bid the king goodbye, so he allowed himself the luxury of admiring his new trinket -- a horse brass, buffed impossibly bright -- and thinking back on every moment with Richard since they'd met. It was all too little of a time to remember for now, but hopefully that would change -- hopefully someday they'd have spent so much time together, there would come to be more memories of Richard than anyone else.
With his newfound knowledge, their interactions prior to the raid took on a new shine. Before, he hadn't known at all what Richard had intended for their trip to York. The idea that Richard might fancy him was just that -- a fancy he struggled to not entertain, not wanting to get his hopes up. He'd told himself that Richard was just a friendly (funny, charming, kind) fellow. He'd tried not to marvel too much that this beautiful man had invited him anywhere. But now Thomas knew that Richard had indeed be interested in Thomas when he'd made his invitation! Had looked at Thomas and decided, "I'll take this one!"
How had he come to decide that, though? Why was he attracted to Thomas? Being wanted had become such a foreign notion after all these years, Thomas still couldn't quite wrap his head around it actually happening to him. He knew why he'd been smitten with Richard from the get-go, but Thomas also knew that he himself was a hard man to even just like.
And now, he worried. What if, after Richard got to know him better, Richard decided he didn't like Thomas after all?
Thomas had never actually had a mutual love, didn't really know what it was like. The Duke of Crawborough had been more of a means to an end than an actual love, for both of them. There had been flings in the army, but those were about stress relief. As for Edward, Thomas hadn't even known if the man was lavender. And while Thomas had loved Jimmy, and Jimmy had eventually become his friend, Jimmy's affection was more brotherly, if anything.
What if Thomas just wasn't good enough? How could he be, when he didn't know what had drawn Richard to him in the first place? What if Richard had all the wrong ideas about him?
He clung to the memory of their talk outside of the police station, when Richard had, after touching his own lips, laid his finger against the butler's lips to quiet him. It was then, with that simple yet intimate gesture, that Thomas understood Richard was interested in him. Right up until that moment, Thomas had been horrifically embarrassed, ashamed both for his foolish naïveté, and for how inconsiderate he'd been in leaving the pub before Richard had arrived. He'd thought Richard had felt disgusted after learning what Thomas was, and annoyed at having to fetch him.
Richard had indeed been disappointed -- but also wonderfully understanding. And if Richard could forgive Thomas getting himself thrown in jail after having stood Richard up, then maybe Richard was someone who was forgiving enough in general that he could love Thomas, despite the butler's many flaws. Especially if Thomas resolved to be on his best behavior henceforth, to not give Richard any reason to find him wanting. (Thomas might not be anywhere near perfect, but he'd been doing better since his near-death experience two years ago, hadn't he?)
Of course, being better meant endeauvoring to be a model employee (among other things). As such, he resolved to get back to work right away, even if the Crawleys were going to spend the night elsewhere. Allowing himself one last admiring glance at the horse brass, Thomas attached it to the chain of his pocket-watch, then reattached the chain to his vest, so that he might have the trinket with him always.
~ @ ~
Thomas spent the day going about the abbey, fixing things back as they should be, as opposed to how the royal servants had felt they ought to be. Really, it was astounding how much the visitors had disrupted the natural order of the house! And who on Earth had been plucking books from the library shelves and then put them back out of order?
He was just finishing with fixing the books, when His Lordship came in.
"Oh, Barrow! Are you, uh ... back to it, or ...?"
Thomas felt like someone had tied his gut in a knot. Swallowing hard, he replied, "Well, I just thought ... there's so much to do, why wait?"
"Splendind!" His Lordship seemed relieved; Thomas felt the knot loosen. Then His Lordship seemed sheepish. "I, uh, was a little afraid you wouldn't want to, after ...."
It was the butler's turn to be chagrined. "To be honest, Your Lordship, I wasn't sure if I would be welcome, after the way I spoke to you. I'm sorry for that."
"I appreciate it, Barrow, but I owe you an apology myself. Mary had literally sprung the news of what she'd done just before you'd come in the room. I should have demanded a more thorough explanation from you both, but ... well, for one, you didn't exactly give me a chance ..." He gave Thomas a pointed look.
Thomas shrank beneath it, remembering his outburst; he really hadn't let His Lordship defend himself.
"And for another," Lord Grantham continued, "she is the estate manager now, and it didn't seem right to yank the metaphorical reins back out of her hands. Nor, for that matter, did I want to yank the opportunity back from Carson -- especially as, if I recall, Mary had said in the first place, when we made you butler, that Carson should be in charge for big events."
Thomas cringed. "Now that I think on it, milord, I'm afraid you're right -- she did indeed say as much."
His Lordship waved a hand dismissively. "Be that as it may, after she elaborated on what exactly had happened, I did explain to her that you were in the right about polishing the silver. Andy had plenty of other things to do; it would have been a complete waste to have him polish any of the silver to full buff, only for the page to tell you to use other pieces instead. I told her that, if she wasn't about to tell the king what should or shouldn't be done, it was unreasonable to expect you to override his page's decisions."
It warmed Thomas to heard His Lordship defend him -- and yet, it also made him feel worse. "I appreciate your understanding, Your Lordship, but still, I shoulder the blame -- Lady Mary was under a lot of stress, and I see now that I could have better explained it all to her."
His Lordship snorted. "As if she would have given you the chance! Besides, it's not like you weren't under a great deal of stress yourself. Hence that outburst."
"That was ... incredibly rude and unprofessional of me, Your Lordship, and I--"
"Actually, I was rather impressed, Barrow," Grantham admitted.
Thomas blinked. "Sir?"
"Despite your understandable outrage, you were still diplomatic, still reasonable in your handling of the situation, even if your tone was heated. Besides, I don't want anyone under this roof to be afraid of telling me when they feel they have been treated unfairly. You didn't up and quit, either -- not that I would have blamed you if you had. And you even reported the boiler issue, rather than leaving it to be found out by Carson later! No, Barrow, I find you to be a man of integrity who cares about this house as much as we do, and we'd be at loss if you left -- Carson is no longer butler for a reason, and I'm convinced no one else could fill his shoes as capably. Not even, it seems, the royal Page of the Backstair!"
Thomas stifled a grin, trying to maintain a dignified air. "I appreciate that, milord -- thank you. I truly hope I will be here for many years to come."
"As do I, Barrow." Grantham patted him on the shoulder.
Touch-starved as he tended to be, the contact made Thomas shiver with a flush of warmth -- the sort not unlike what he felt when his father had praised him and acted with affection.
Knowing now that His Lordship had stood up for Thomas, the butler felt a sudden urge to come clean about his arrest -- but stifled it, not wanting Lord Grantham to regret keeping his home open to Thomas when the butler had nearly brought a scandal to the door. (Besides, telling the story would require revealing that a member of the royal household had lied to the police on his behalf -- granted, he didn't think His Lordship would report that, much less that anyone would realise it was Richard who'd done it, but still, it wouldn't be right to risk Richard's well-being, even just a little bit).
It saddened him, though, that he also couldn't talk to anyone about what happened later with Richard. Thumbing the treasure in his pocket, he wanted to shout it from the rooftop ....