He set Ashwood up in an empty bed beside him so he might feel more comfortable, and Ashwood fell asleep in minutes, as did Bellamy, exhausted from worry and the day’s events.
The following morning, the atmosphere during breakfast was gregarious, the lads no doubt excited to resume their activities. Bellamy, however, felt far removed from the enthusiasm, and not only because Ashwood was his guest. Or perhaps it was for precisely that reason? Regardless, after what they’d shared so profoundly the other night, he didn’t have any desire to interact with any of the gentlemen.
After breakfast, Madam Langley informed them she was still consulting with Madam Fairborn regarding their dilemma, and they were to all meet for tea in the sitting room the next day.
That settled, he and Ashwood went along with Oscar to tend to the rooms. It was the first night that the gentlemen would be welcomed as guests since violet fever had surged through the country, and there were many preparations to be made.
“So…this is where the gentleman takes you after…” Ashwood seemed hesitant, to say the least.
“Yes,” Bellamy replied matter-of-factly. “After removing the moon flower from behind our ears and negotiating the terms with Madam Langley.”
Bellamy could see the tense set of his jaw, but also something else below the surface. Given his inquiries, Ashwood was intrigued, but also suspicious—or perhaps possessive, something Bellamy had felt from him since they’d arrived.
They entered each room, and he could see Ashwood taking in the simple arrangement of a bed, a sideboard, and two chairs. They needed to check that the ewers and basins were clean and held fresh water, and that the drawers were properly stocked with oil and different contraptions of a sexual variety for use or experimentation in the rooms. Ashwood definitely got an eyeful when he rifled through the contents, only to discover a feather, rope, sashes, and a blindfold useful in tying and tormenting. He blushed profusely, which was quite endearing, really. Bellamy almost teased him but restrained himself. What purpose would it serve, anyway, to imagine him in such a compromising position? As it was, he was begging his prick to cooperate, thus far unsuccessfully.
Oscar seemed none the wiser about the tension between them. He was especially talkative that morning, mostly about Mr. Walters and, per usual, his large cock.
“Do you think he will even be in attendance tonight?” Bellamy asked.
“I certainly hope so,” Oscar replied with an eyebrow waggle, but for the first time, Bellamy noted something else behind his playfulness. A sense of unease, and he didn’t know if it was regarding Mr. Walters or the evening’s events. Perhaps they were all still on edge since the incident with the constable, or the sickness itself. He wanted to ask, but knowing Oscar, he would only reply with some joke, so he let it pass.
“What are the apertures for?” Ashwood asked as they were about to enter another room.
“For safety,” Bellamy told him, “in case someone doesn’t abide by the negotiated terms. Madam Langley had them built into each door after an incident between the constable and Azriel. And also to make us feel more comfortable, knowing someone is within hearing distance,” he added, hoping to assuage Ashwood’s obvious misgivings. Unfortunately, that information only served to drag his mouth into a frown.
Oscar said, “They’re also used for voyeurism,” and Bellamy nearly groaned aloud as Ashwood’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps before you go off to do whatever it is wolves do, you can have a bit of fun yourself.”
“Whatever do you mean?” Ashwood’s voice pitched as he followed Oscar into the room. “Does Madam Langley expect me to—”
“Of course not,” Bellamy said with an eye roll. “And I will not be partaking either.”
He noted how Ashwood’s shoulders loosened. Did he really think Bellamy would resume his occupation so easily, given all that’d transpired between them?
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Ashwood said with a flick of his wrist. “If you prefer—”
“What I prefer,” Bellamy said in a lower register, “is for the both of us to remain hidden this evening while we await word from the madams.”
He could sense Oscar’s unwavering gaze on them, and feeling on edge, barked out, “What?”
“Is this some sort of lovers’ spat? I didn’t mean to create any trouble between you. I only suggested that you might want to…watch this evening,” Oscar said, and Ashwood’s face flushed. “You did ask about the apertures, so I thought perhaps…”
“Ashwood is not used to this sort of establishment,” Bellamy said.
“How would you know?” Ashwood countered.
“I…suppose I just assumed.” His face felt hot, imagining the possibility. Was that what Ashwood meant when he confessed about giving in to his urges? “Anyway, this is not a lovers’ spat. We are mates, but we are not…betrothed.”
“I see,” Oscar said. “So you are only here to seek the madam’s advice?”