#*secrets and fans

They had been eyeing each other all evening, the sexual tension was reaching breaking point and yet there was nothing they could do as they were surrounded by at least twenty other persons insisting on their company and conversation. No matter how they tried, they could not find a way to be alone together. Mr Mat Baynton sipped at his wine as he continued to pretend to be interested in the conversation in which he had been engaged. A young, quite attractive lady of the name Miss Howe-Douglas talked of how she had recently moved to the area and was already quite fond of the place and the people in it. Fortunately, Mat was not the only one with whom she was talking, and a man named Mr Howick eagerly provided most of the conversation, and Mat sensed a possible romance blooming there. Mat had only need to make the occasional humming noise in agreement to satisfy his two acquaintances. The problem was that Mat was unable to focus. Against his silent wishes, he had been seated at the other end of the table from the one he so desperately wanted to talk to. He watched as Mr Willbond elegantly scooped the soup up with his spoon and raised it to his lips, tipping it upward and letting the liquid trickle down his throat. He caught Mat's eye, and Mat could have sworn he had winked at him. He looked away quickly in the hope that his cheeks were not as burning red as they felt. "Pray tell me," Miss Howe-Douglas said in a hushed tone, "I have been introduced to most of the guests with which we are dining, but there is a small group of men at the other end of the table to which I have not yet to have the privilege. Who are they?" She nodded in the direction of Mr Willbond and the party that had come with him to this ball. "The man whom is telling the jokes that everyone is laughing at is Mr Rickard," explained Mr Howick. "He owns the Manor you most likely saw on your journey here. He is very rich and provides many of the peasants around here with work. He even gives them food!" Miss Howe-Douglas looked rather astonished at this discovery. Mat was a good friend of Mr Rickard, Larry, and so was used to this most unusual behaviour. "The man on his left is a Mr Farnaby. I have yet to make his acquaintance but I hear he is a most amiable man. The man situated on the right of Mr Rickard is Mr Willbond." Mat tried to ignore the flutter that his heart gave when this name was spoken. "He is a friend of Mr Rickard's and is staying with him at the Manor. He arrived a fortnight ago." And it has been the best fortnight of my life, thought Mat as he looked up at the said man once again. He had been informed that Larry would have a guest staying in his home for some months whilst his own was being refurbished, but not once did Mat consider that this man would sweep him off his feet as he did when they first met. Larry had invited him to luncheon with him and his friend, but when he arrived he noted that only Larry was there to greet him. "My friend has fallen asleep after his journey, it will be a great relief I think for he looked exhausted when he arrived yesterday. I am sure he will join us when he is fully regenerated." The two of them had a pleasant lunch of tea and salmon sandwiches, and after retired to the sitting room where Larry smoked a cigar, Mat refusing the offer to have one himself. They talked for a short while when Larry interrupted the recital of a childhood memory to exclaim the presence of a visitor. "Ah Mr Willbond, you have awoken!" Mat had jumped at this unexpected change in subject and followed Larry's lead by standing so that he could welcome the stranger. Mat did not know what he had expected when he turned to face the guest, but he most certainly did not expect his body to react in such a way that it did. He caught his breath as his heart skipped a beat. The man before him was young, with a pleasing face and sparkling blue eyes that were still adjusting to the light after his slumber. His hair was of a dark shade, with strands of silver running through it that made him look distinguished and intelligent. His clothing was fashionable, but not flamboyant that so often came with men who could afford to refurbish their homes. The man smiled at Mat, small dimples forming on either side of his mouth as he did so, and, after a moment of staring, Mat politely bowed. The man returned the gesture. "This," Larry said to Mat, "is Mr Ben Willbond; he shall be staying with me for some time. This," he then said to Mr Willbond, "is Mr Mat Baynton whom I told you about." "It is good to meet you at last Mr Baynton; Mr Rickard has spoken very highly of you." Mat was unable to form a coherent verbal reply; the posh, warm voice of this Mr Willbond had caused his own heart to beat as such a speed that it was surely not healthy. Instead he smiled and inclined his head, hoping his friend would initiate the conversation, giving him time to regain his ability to speak. Over the next two weeks, Mat found himself visiting the Manor often and inviting the habitants there for tea at his own humble abode. He became acquainted enough with Mr Willbond to call him 'friend', and the right to call each other by their Christian names. They were comfortable and happy in each other's company, and Mat found himself falling for this young man. He did not realise it immediately, not until Larry had teased Ben in front of Mat about a lady who Larry had insisted had flirted with Ben that morning in town. The serge of jealousy that burned through Mat's body had come as quite a surprise to him, and he had decided that moment to steer clear of Ben and his charms. In his mind he was determined that this would be his last visit to the Manor for some time. That was his intention, but when Ben suggested they go for a walk in the grounds after dinner, Mat could not bring himself to say no, and so the two of them walked out of the house and down the stone path. "There is a small pavilion round here that is hidden from sight," said Ben as he led Mat to the place that he spoke of. "Oh," was all Mat could say, the thought of being completely alone with Ben terrified him, for he did not trust his own body to behave itself. Round the corner, behind a huge rose bush, stood a marvellous stone pavilion. It was no more than ten feet wide, barely enough room for the two of them, and it was falling apart so that the white paintwork cracked and the ivy swamped it, but it was magnificent. "I did not know about this place, it is quite a si-" But before he could finish his sentence, Ben had him by the shoulders and he was forcing him to look him in the eye. "Mr Baynton," he began, "forgive me for what I am about to tell you but I feel I must say it. For it has been praying on my mind since the day we met and I cannot ignore it any longer. If it makes you uncomfortable I am happy to find other accommodation whilst my home is uninhabitable." At this Mat panicked, he could not bare the thought of Ben leaving him. "The thing is, I do believe I have feelings for you, ones that cause my heart to burst and my stomach to tie into knots every time I lay my eyes on you. I pray daily that I may see you, and then I am sad when I do not. I yearn to make you smile, and my body aches when I see you frown. I am aware that these feelings are not reciprocated and inappropriate, but they are known to no one but ourselves and I am willing to keep it that way if you so wish. But I felt I must tell you, before I did something I would regret." He averted his eyes, preparing for the pain of rejection he knew was coming. "Mr Willbond," Mat replied, quite breathless, "I can assure you that these feelings," Ben tightly shut his eyes in preparation for the blow, "are the exact reflection of what I feel for you." "I… I beg your pardon?" "From the day we met I have found myself falling more and more…" he could not say the 'L' word, "in your favour. I feared, as you did, of what you may have thought should you discover the truth and I had resorted in withdrawing myself from your company. But now, as you come to me with such wonderful news, I want nothing more than to be by your side always." Mat felt pin pricks in the back of his eyes as he gravitated towards Ben's being. "Ah there you are! I have been looking for the pair of you." Mat and Ben jumped apart as Larry appeared out of nowhere. "I see you have shown Mat your discovery!" "Y-your discovery?" inquired Mat as he tried to act innocent and unsuspicious. Ben coughed. "Yes I found this little place as I walked around the grounds a few nights ago." "I have no idea it was here," shrugged Larry as he patted Ben on the back. "Perfect place to get up to something don't you think?" Mat choked on his breath. "Not getting a cold, are you boy?" "Mr Baynton, Mr Baynton!" Mat snapped out of his reminiscences as Miss Howe-Douglas called his name. "Mr Howick and I are going to dance, would you care to join us?" "No thank you, but do enjoy yourselves," he added as the two of them left the table and walked into the next room hand in hand. For a short time Mat engaged in conversation with the man who sat on the other side of him, a young inventor by the name of Mr Lewin. He had yet to create something that would make his fortune, but he was confident in his future success. Mr Lewin could have talked for England, but when finally excused himself, Mat found he had no one left to talk to, and decided he would search for Ben in the ballroom. As he stood, he saw a small object resting on the table. It was a lady's fan. Mat assumed Miss Howe-Douglas had left it there by mistake and picked it up so that he may return it to her. The party was in full swing as Mat entered the ballroom. Most of the guests had gathered in there now and many had paired up and were dancing to the music in the middle of the room. Mat took a space on the side lines so that he could survey the room without getting involved himself. Ben was talking a group of men Mat did not know, and he dared not talk to Ben in front of others after what had happened last time they were alone together. Instead he did his best to catch the eye of Mr Howick and Miss Howe-Douglas, which eventually they noticed, and once the song had ended, they joined him against the wall of the room. "This ball is such fun," giggled Miss Howe-Douglas as she shyly removed her hand from Mr Howick. "You do not dance?" he asked. "No, dancing is not my idea of fun." Mat did not mean to think of Ben as he said this. Worried that they knew what he was thinking, he said quickly, "I believe you left this behind in the dining room Miss Howe-Douglas." He produced the delicate fan. She clasped her hands to her chest. "I wondered what I had done with it! I so often misplace things." "Easily done," chuckled her dance partner. "Would you mind awfully if you would hold it for just a few more moments whilst I go and powder my nose?" "Of course not." Miss Howe-Douglas thanked him, and disappeared into the crowds. "Lovely, lovely girl," murmured Mr Howick to himself. "Indeed she is," Mat replied. Mr Howick then gave him a dirty look as he misunderstood Mat's intentions. "You are fond of her, are you not sir?" he asked quickly in the hope of correcting him. "She is a lovely girl," he said again. "You should ask her to dinner, she will like that I think." The accusations in his eyes fizzled away and he was back to his jolly self. "Perhaps I will." They stood in silence for some minutes, and Mat found himself looking once more at Ben and the company he was keeping. Ben looked up and caught his eye, giving him an amused but confused expression. Mat looked at himself and realised Ben was indicating the lady's fan that he was safekeeping for his friend. He rolled his eyes in such a way that said 'never mind' when an idea struck him. "Funny thing, lady's fans," he said seemingly to Mr Howick, but he kept looking back to Ben to ensure he was watching him. He then held the shut fan out as if he were presenting it to someone in front of him. His eyes flicked at Ben, whom he was hoping had got the message. Do you love me? Ben nodded slowly, trying not to gain attention from his company. Mat could have leapt across the dance floor into Ben's arms there and then. But he composed himself and opened up the fan. To the unseeing eye it looked as though Mat was just messing with the fan in his possession, not knowing what he was doing, but to Ben, he knew exactly what he was doing. Mat then pressed the fan to his chest. I love you. Ben suppressed a smirk as he looked down and up again with flirting eyes. "It's amazing what they do with paper these days," Mat said to Mr Howick, continuing to cover his tracks as he touched his finger to the tip of the fan. I wish to speak with you. "Yes I suppose it is," replied Mr Howick, finding the topic of conversation rather odd. Ben twitched his head, indicating the people around him. Mat took the fan in his right hand and held it in front of his face. Follow me. Again Ben nodded slowly. "If you will excuse me sir I would like to get some fresh air." "Of course Mr Baynton." "Would you be so kind as to return Miss Howe-Douglas her fan for me? She would greatly appreciate it I'm sure." That sealed the deal and Mr Howick willingly accepted Mat's request. Mat avoided the direction at which Ben was situated and left the ballroom through the big double doors that opened out into the garden. He did not turn as he walked down the path and round the back of the large bush sculptures and into the wooded area at the back. He could not have been sure if Ben had followed him until and whisper came out from the darkness. "Hello you." The heat of Ben's breath brushed against Mat's ear, giving him goose bumps all over his body. "Hello," he breathed in reply. "Interesting mode of communication," grinned Ben. "It worked, did it not?" said Mat in a mockingly offended voice. "So," Ben watched as he rolled a stone over with his foot, "you love me." "Indeed I do. And you tell me that you love me also." "I do." "Then there is only one thing for it." Mat pretended to touch an invisible fan to his lips, not taking his eyes off Ben for a second. Kiss me. Ben cupped Mat's face in his hands and pulled him close so that his lips and his own could meet. Mat responded by wrapping his arms around Ben's waist so he could not pull away and end this magical moment. Only when he was quite breathless did Mat allow the man free, but Ben did not remove his hands from Mat's face. Instead he looked him deep in the eyes held his gaze so that Mat knew he was about to say something important. "I want you to come and live with me," he said, still quite breathless from the passionate encounter they had just had. Mat was unable to speak for some minutes. "I want to, I desire nothing more, but what reason shall I give? It is not seemly for a man to live with another man if he is unrelated." Ben was disheartened at Mat's words. He had been denying what he knew to be the truth. Their relationship must remain a secret until the end of their days, and if they were to live together people would certainly talk. "We will think of something. My servants are more than reliable, and my home will not be welcome to anyone but you if you should wish it. We could spend our lives alone together, away from the prying eyes and the whispers. Just the two of us." He pressed his forehead against Mat's as if he were making a promise to his beloved. Mat repeated Ben's words. "Just the two of us."