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Maurice let out a puff of smoke from his cigarette as he looked out across the grounds from one of Penge's east-facing windows. He tugged at his collar, which was a little too stiff and readjusted his dinner jacket, which was a little too tight. He had dressed early. With Clive and Anne away overnight he had little to keep him occupied. Maurice certainly wasn't eager for dinner to start. It was sure to be tedious with only the Reverend Borenius and Clive's mother as company. The air in Penge was a bit stifling, and since he still had time, he decided to go for a walk.
It had been rainy and humid all day. The dew wetted Maurice's shoes as he strolled across the well-kept grass. A layer of mist hovered above the ground as if the earth itself were exhaling and its breath condensing. When he reached the tree line, he stamped out his cigarette. Maurice considered the immense trees stretching up into the sky. Despite the amount of time he had spent at Penge, he hadn't done much exploring of the woods surrounding it. It had always felt a bit off limits, especially since that one time he and Clive had ridden horses out to the carriage house (which was locked) and Simcox had come upon them. Given that Simcox rode his bicycle through the woods, Maurice knew there had to be a walking path, but he didn't know quite where it was. He walked along the tree line until he found it.
Stepping into the woods was like stepping into an entirely different world from the one inside Penge. Here, everything felt alive: the trees, the plants, the insects. Even the air felt somehow charged with life. Maurice took a deep breath and let this incredible air fill his lungs. He was suddenly invigorated. A songbird called out, and within seconds there came an echoing response from its mate. Maurice thought it was remarkable how one could so harmoniously match another. As he walked along the path he considered this living, breathing, pulsating world around him. It occurred to him that this would be a wonderful place to clear one's head, to escape one's everyday troubles and grinding responsibilities. A wonderful place to...
“Oh!”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Scudder! You startled me!” Maurice attempted to regain his composure after quite literally bumping into the young undergamekeeper.
“I'm sure I didn't mean to, sir.”
“That's alright, Scudder,” Maurice said as he pulled at the flaps of his dinner jacket to resettle it. He thought the keeper looked very much in his element here with his boots and rugged, but well-weathered clothes. Maurice suddenly thought he must look a bit ridiculous out in the woods dressed for dinner. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I was just collecting a few rabbits I missed from the shooting earlier.” As proof, Scudder lifted the flap of his bag to reveal a pair of rabbit legs sticking out. “And I fancied a little walk in the woods. But what are you doing out here, sir?”
The look Scudder gave him told Maurice that he found the woods a strange place for a gentleman, and also that he believed he had every right to ask such a question, as if they were equals.
“Oh.” Maurice needed a moment to formulate a response. For some reason he felt a little flustered, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. “Well, I had some time before dinner and, like yourself, I fancied a bit of a stroll.” He looked around at their verdant surroundings. “It occurred to me that this might be a lovely place to come and think.” Maurice looked at Scudder and smiled. It was clear from the confused stare he received in return, that the gamekeeper had no idea what Maurice was talking about. “Well, it's getting late. Dinner will be laid on soon. I'd better be getting back. Good night.” Maurice inclined his head just slightly to mark his leave-taking.
“Night, sir,” Scudder replied.
Maurice turned and began to walk away.
“I know a place, sir!” Scudder called after him.
Maurice stopped and slowly turned around. “I beg your pardon?”
Scudder cautiously approached him. “I know a nice place where you could sit and have a think. I could show it to you.”
“Oh.” Maurice didn't know what he was expecting but this wasn't it. “Perhaps another time. I really must be getting back.” Maurice's words indicated he was considering it, but he hoped his tone conveyed that he had in actuality no intention of being shown this place.
Scudder seemed obtusely oblivious, however. “It's real close by. I could take you there right now. Won't take but a minute.”
Maurice wasn't swayed. “I really should...”
“It's real pretty. You'll like it, I promise.” Scudder had already turned, ready to lead the way, as if Maurice following him was a foregone conclusion. He looked back at Maurice, beckoning him.
When Maurice looked at this young man, all practical thoughts of Penge and dinner and Mrs Durham and Mr. Borenius waiting for him just flitted away like the birds in the trees. He soon found his feet moving without his brain having told them to do so.
Scudder immediately veered off the trail and into the thick forest. Maurice felt uneasy about straying from the well-trodden route and into such unknown territory. Yet he continued to follow the gamekeeper, trusting that he knew the way.
It was rough going for Maurice. The trees were dense, towering and immovable. He was continually off-balance as he tried to maneuver around them, with no path to guide him. Dead leaves and twigs crunched and snapped unsettlingly underfoot. Maurice did his best to follow Scudder, but Scudder made his way nimbly through the woods, every step assured and without hesitation. Maurice was finding it difficult to keep up. He felt his pulse quicken as Scudder's back grew smaller and smaller. He called Scudder's name, but he obviously didn't hear. And then Maurice's guide disappeared altogether. He had a moment of panic, but stumbled onward with racing heart. No matter how deeply he inhaled, he couldn't seem to catch his breath.
He had been such a fool to blindly follow a man he knew nothing about. He didn't know where he was being led, or what awaited him when he arrived. Fear was creeping in and only served to magnify the panic. Maurice couldn't see what was ahead.
He crashed through some thick brush, and suddenly the whole world opened up. There was sunlight and fresh, open air. Maurice felt like he could breathe again. He regained his composure (and his breath) and took in his surroundings. He was in a clearing in the middle of the woods. He could see now that the clearing was due to a small lake, or rather, a large pond with remarkably clear water. There was a lot of reedy grass surrounding it that came well up to Maurice's waist. There were yellow and purple flowers dotting the area, adding to the vibrance of the grass and the trees and the sky. Maurice could hear the birds singing again.
Scudder hadn't been wrong. It was beautiful. Maurice stood amidst the grass, looking all around, trying to take it all in and feeling very nearly overwhelmed. He had always thought of Penge as a bit somber and gloomy. He hadn't known it could offer something so stunning and wonderfully alive.
Maurice was looking up at the sun-dappled trees when he became aware that there was a hand in his own. He thought it odd since he didn't recall having taken anyone's hand. He stared dumbly down at his own hand for a moment, marveling at the other one he found in it. His eyes traveled from the hand up to an arm, and from the arm to a shoulder and a neck and a face. Finally, he found himself staring into dark, kind eyes.
It felt like Maurice's stomach dropped clear out of his body. His heart pounded so violently, he thought it might burst out of his chest and run off as well. It suddenly felt like this beautiful world was crashing around him.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Scudder allowed the gentlest of smiles to grace his lips. “Asking you to make love to me.”
Maurice stared stupidly at Scudder, mouth agape. He could hardly believe the words that this young man was speaking. His head was spinning. Could this be real? Was he dreaming? It certainly felt like he was in a dream. All he could think to say was, “Here? Now?”
Scudder squeezed Maurice's hand and moved closer, all the time looking into his eyes. “Right here, right now.”
The time it took for a word to travel from Maurice's brain to his lips seemed an eternity. “But... dinner...”
“Won't be starting for a while yet,” Scudder finished, glancing up at the sky to confirm this by the position of the sun. “We've got time.” His dark brown eyes stared once again into Maurice's. “So, will you make love to me?”
All coherent, rational thought had fled Maurice. All he could feel now was the pounding of his own heart and a warm liquid filling his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure he had physically existed until this moment. He looked at this beautiful man before him and knew that he was all he had ever wanted. “Yes,” he breathed out, and it felt like all the bonds of society had loosed their hold and his body was for the first time free.
Scudder kissed him slowly, gently but with passion bubbling under the surface. Maurice was sure his legs would give out. No one had ever kissed him like that before. Certainly not Clive. Clive wouldn't even let Maurice touch him. But this man, this handsome, unafraid young man wanted to touch Maurice everywhere. His hands were in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his back. Buttons were unfastened. Clothing was shed. Maurice couldn't remember how, but they were eventually laying in the grass. And suddenly Scudder's lips were everywhere as well. It was very nearly too much for Maurice. He flipped Scudder on his back and ended up sitting on top of him. He found that he enjoyed this position very much, and concluded from the cheeky smirk on his face and hungry licking of his lips, that Scudder enjoyed it as well. Maurice gently rocked back and forth, and Scudder's grin widened.
Maurice smiled back at him. He rubbed his hands over Scudder's chest and nipples. Scudder gripped onto Maurice's hips, but not roughly.
“May I ask your name?” Maurice said.
Scudder's face fell and he suddenly looked quite annoyed. “I'm Scudder.”
“I know you're Scudder – I meant your other name.”
The smile returned as quickly as it had gone. “Only Alec just.”
“Alec.” Maurice tried it out and it sounded like music. “I'm called Maurice. You're lovely.”
Alec's grin became almost devilish. “You're not so bad yourself.”
Maurice increased the pace of his rocking until they were both breathing too hard to speak. Maurice did manage to cry out though, most likely scaring off the birds. Alec was a little more restrained.
Maurice flopped down next to Alec, blades of grass sticking to his perspiring back. One hand lazily traced unseen patterns on his lover's chest.
“Alec, were you following me?” Maurice asked gently.
“Might have seen you heading out toward the woods.”
“And before today?” Maurice thought of several encounters they'd had: shifting the piano, the time he thought he saw him from the car, the other time they'd met on a pre-dinner stroll.
“I only wanted to see you. Are you mad at me?”
“No. But why me?”
“First time I ever seed you I thought, 'Wish I and that one...' 'wouldn't I and him...' Do you remember it, Maurice?”
“I remember you dallying with a couple of maids.”
“That were only Milly, that were Milly's cousin. It were nothing. You were handsome. Your hair was ruffled by the wind and shining golden in the sunlight. I did think you looked at me angry and gentle both together. You looked … lost.”
“I was lost, until you found me,” Maurice replied, kissing Alec's shoulder.
Alec looked up at the quickly darkening sky. He slipped out from Maurice's embrace.
“Don't, why did you?” Maurice said, keenly feeling the loss of his companion.
“It really is getting late now,” Alec said as he searched through the tall grass for his clothes and began to dress himself. “Simcox will be wondering where I am, and if we don't go back now, Mrs. Durham will surely send a search party out looking for you.”
Maurice reluctantly got to his feet. He knew that Alec was right but he longed to never leave this paradise. As he watched his lover dress, Maurice recalled a dream he'd had about a friend, and he suddenly knew what it meant.