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It must be an art form, he thinks, for someone dressed to fade out, to draw eyes in a room full of twinkling lights and glittering ladies.
He glides across the room in an invisible dance, dodges moving bodies with impossible grace, carries the tray aloft with practice. It shouldn’t be so captivating to the son of a Viscount, used to servants and their hidden presence—but Evelyn can’t help himself. His eyes move on their own accord, drift over to Thomas who holds his undivided attention.
“He’s quite alluring, isn’t he.”
Evelyn is just able to control himself from spilling his drink all over his jacket. That would’ve been quite mortifying, especially in front of Mary. And Thomas, his mind supplies unbidden.
He pushes that thought away and turns to Kemal who is watching him with a knowing glint in his dark eyes.
“What do you mean?” He takes a sip to chase the dryness in his mouth away. It doesn’t work.
Kemal smirks. “I’ve been watching you watch him. You should really try to be more careful.”
Fear grips him and tightens its hold. He really can’t use that kind of suspicion.
Kemal, ever so keen, notices, and leans in conspiratorially, “You’ve nothing to fear from me. In fact, I know for sure that he’d be quite interested. I can lend him to you, after I’m done with him.”
Evelyn clenches his jaw. Jealousy and repulsion course through his veins and fight for the upper hand. He hadn’t expected Kemal Pamuk, always so nice and charming, to talk about using servants in such a flippant and disregarding manner. The thought of him and Thomas, wrapped around each other like only lovers should, sends his mind into a dark frenzied envy.
“No, thank you.” He steps away from Kemal, a clear message, and stares him down as cold as he can, which - to be quite honest - has never proven itself to be very successful.
He is the picture of relaxation, not a bit frazzled by Evelyn’s sudden animosity. Shrugging elegantly, he says, “Suit yourself,” and goes over to Mary, who’s been sneaking glances at him all night.
For the rest of the evening, he forces his eyes away from Thomas who is standing still in front of the fireplace, perfectly framed by two glimmering candlesticks, casting shadows over sharp cheekbones and illuminating him from behind.
*
“I heard about the Duke,” Thomas’ mouth twists for a short second, “and I can’t say I’m sorry. He never quite knew how to keep a good thing when he had it.”
To his surprise, Thomas had come knocking on Evelyn’s door on his own, apparently just after he’d seen to Kemal’s needs. He hadn’t said a word about what they had done together, making Evelyn’s feelings run amok in his chest. Now, he sits in one of the upholstered chairs in the suite, Evelyn in the other, enjoying a cigarette he’d pulled out from his livery.
Thomas takes a deep drag and the orange tip brightens intensely. He blows out a plume of smoke and drawls, “I’m a good thing, then?”
His eyes gleam in the low light and Evelyn has never been so enthralled.
“The very best,” he breathes.
Thomas is on his lap in the next moment, his lips finding Evelyn’s in an instant, insistent and almost bruising, and Evelyn buries his hands in his hair, drags him in deeper, just to taste the smoke on his tongue. Heat spreads from his lips to his face, then downward to set fire to his loins. Evelyn feels him react similarly to their heated kiss, and excitement takes hold of him, fills him with thrilled anticipation of what is to come.
They part to fill their lungs with air and Evelyn is so enveloped by the heady mix of cigarette smoke and Thomas he can’t think clearly.
Thomas rises and goes over to the bed to make himself comfortable there, cigarette still in hand. He watches him smoke, relaxed amidst soft pillows, blood-red lips wrapped around the glowing stick. He’s a sight to behold and Evelyn can’t believe his luck.
He settles next to Thomas and raises his arm to put it around his shoulders. Thomas accepts the touch and leans in, offers Evelyn a taste. He normally isn’t a man to smoke, but if it’s offered like this, from the hand of his arresting captor, he’s ready to try.
The whole experience is surreal. How much time had passed since he‘d had the focused attention of a lover on him alone? Too long had he spent chasing skirts and shadows, and now he’s been pulled into the light.
Here he is in his arms, a dream of a man, someone he - along with a slew of other bachelors of similar persuasion - had admired ever since the last London season.
Evelyn intends to never let go.
*
“Will I see you again?” He overhears Kemal murmur to Mary while Thomas holds Evelyn's coat for him to put his arms through. Mary replies, but Evelyn doesn’t hear because he’s too busy sneaking a note into Thomas’ livery pocket.
Just before they take their leave, their eyes meet in a promise. We’ll see each other again.