a marriage of convenience: ix. the season
ix. the season
After the scandal and success of Pete Wentz's appearance back in society, the season resumed at full swing, balls and receptions and all manner of entertainments, all of them made just a bit more titillating for most by Wentz's presence doing something shocking, or his absence because he was doing something even more shocking, or simply by the rumors of the things he did that no one ever really witnessed, though they'd all heard from a friend, those things so shocking that no one ever really named them. If nothing else, Jon thought grimly, Wentz earned his keep by ensuring that people had something to talk about, at party after party that each seemed exactly like the last, except for the gossip. Perhaps that was unfair, Jon thought as he stood at the edge of the crush, surveying his fellow partygoers. Everywhere he looked, someone seemed to be having a simply wonderful time.
For instance, Tom was having a simply wonderful time.
Jon almost couldn't believe he was the same person who had stood in corners awkwardly struggling for an answer to questions as difficult as "how are you?", as he watched him wander through the party at Wentz's side, smiling at Wentz's banter and occasionally offering a quiet observation that made Wentz laugh aloud and the people around them push in to hear. Still, Jon did not grudge him his enjoyment; he just wished he did not have to witness it. He tried staying home a night or two, pleading a cold or pressing business, though Tom looked skeptical at both excuses. He went along with Wentz, though, when Jon urged him. Jon was no happier on the nights spent at home, lounging in bed or sprawled in his chair in front of the fire, but at least he was spared having to look happy or at least unaffected by the goings-on around him in front of a crowd of people.
Unfortunately, Jon's absence caused the kind of talk that his presence never had, at anything. After the first time he excused himself, Jon received a note from his aunt, hoping crisply that he was well-recovered, and bemoaning the wild behavior and wholesale disregard for convention of some of the youth of today, as well as the inveterate disposition toward gossip of society. Jon frowned over it, and threw it in the fire. He noticed, however, that when he went to the club people glanced at him and stopped their conversation, in a way that they hadn't since he was first married.
Finally, the morning after he skipped the second party, William appeared soon after breakfast, to wander around Jon's library and talk about nothing for a solid half-hour, until he finally managed to say, without meeting Jon's eyes, "You were missed at the party last night. People said - Wentz was, perhaps, a bit overexuberant - it's not that I think there's anything wrong in it, you know, I know better but others were perhaps -"
"The man's been in this house dozens of times, I have been in company with him and Tom more times than I can count, what on earth can people find exceptional in Tom speaking with a man one could call my friend?"
"Could one call him that?" William said, and when Jon flushed and looked away he said, "And it's not - it's not just speaking with him. Look," he said when Jon started to speak angrily, "I don't know why people talk, it's foolish and I know, you don't have to tell me there's nothing in it. But - Wentz is incorrigible, I tried to have a word with him but you know him, there's no use when he's like this. But perhaps if you gave Tom a hint - or if you don't like to, I could drop a word. He wouldn't like to think that people were saying anything that reflected poorly on you, I know -"
"Don't say a word to him," Jon said sharply. "I don't want him bothered with this nonsense. I will take care of it."
That night he told Tom that he was feeling much better and would be happy to escort him that evening. "I'm glad," Tom said.
"And I feel I will be in much better health from now on," Jon said. "You will not be forced to go out alone in the evenings, or with - with anyone else, unless it is your choice. I hope that does not disappoint anyone."
Tom looked at him in confusion, his forehead creased. "Of course not," he said, but Jon thought he saw a guarded look in his eyes.
While wagging tongues could force him to these parties, they could not force him to interfere with Tom's enjoyment of them. Jon was, if not exactly pleased, at least relieved to note that his mere presence was enough to calm the worst of the talk. At least he was not yet considered so stupid or unseeing that people thought he would stand there and watch Wentz cuckold him, so all he had to do was make sure people saw him talking in a carefree way to Tom in the beginning of the evening, and then saying good-night to Wentz politely at the end when he took Tom home, and for the rest of the evening he was free to skulk and sulk in corners. He did keep an eye on Tom, just to make sure he wasn't standing awkwardly with no one to talk to, but these days Tom was never left alone. So Jon was free to perch on a sofa in a corner and indulge in dark thoughts about Wentz. He took full advantage of that freedom.
He was just picturing some sort of horrible tailoring accident when the curtain he was half-hiding behind was pulled and Ryan Ross tumbled into the corner, looking around him a little wildly. He did not seem thrilled to see Jon. "You can sit here," Jon said, "I won't bother you, and I'll pretend to talk to you so no one else will bother you either." Ryan sat down and caught his breath for a minute, and as a countrified older man moved toward him leaned in close to Jon and laughed loudly. When the older man retreated, Ryan sighed and said,
"Men are very foolish, don't you think?"
Jon raised an eyebrow and Ryan said, "Not you, of course."
"Of course," Jon said. "Are you so pursued by suitors already?"
"It's very strange," Ryan said. "The ones you can't stand never leave you alone, and even the ones you don't mind pester you until you're sick of them, and then for some reason, the one you - well, it's very strange. I didn't think it would be like this -" he waved his hand at the room, the crowd - "so, so frivolous and tedious."
"You are a cynic, to grow tired of it so quickly. It took a full two seasons for me to become as bored as you see me now." Two seasons and something else, Jon thought, and then he said as he looked out over the room, "But some do not seem to tire of it, even after years. How long has Wentz been on the scene, after all, and he seems as thrilled by it as ever."
"Do you think?" Ryan said slowly. "I know that he is - well, he acts like he is enjoying himself, like he hasn't a care or a thought in the world, but I think sometimes, perhaps, that he looks a little - a little distracted, or sad. And he has come to see me a few times, and when others are not with us he speaks so seriously of the issues of the day, and of his writing, I have to think -"
"Oh no," Jon said with a humorous groan. "Not you too."
"What do you mean?" Ryan asked, with a narrow look.
"It's just that Wentz has made quite a career out of breaking the hearts of the season's beauties. I would hate to think you were caught up in his -"
"I'm not caught in anything," Ryan said tartly. "I just thought there might be more in the man than you said. But perhaps you're right." He glanced over toward the opposite corner of the room, where Jon's attention was held by Wentz standing in the center of a group of young men, Tom sitting next to him. "Tom seems to take him very seriously," Ryan said.
Jon looked over at him. "He and Tom are old friends," he said stiffly. "Of course they understand each other." Ryan murmured something polite while Jon looked back at Wentz and Tom. Wentz was just coming to the end of a long speech, gesticulating wildly as his little group watched him raptly, and after he finished he added something that made Tom laugh, a joke that the rest of the group were slow to catch. "Anyway, you're probably safe," Jon said. "Wentz seems to have gone out of the business of collecting new hearts these days."
"Do you think?" Ryan said slowly, still looking at Wentz and Tom across the room. When Jon looked at him Ryan said, "Have you read the latest novel?" and proceeded to tell Jon exactly what he should think of it.
After that, Ryan would often seek Jon out when his suitors became a little too importunate, finding him in the corners where he'd gone to sulk and discussing the latest book or concert with him, engaging him in discussion until Jon argued with him heatedly or else laughed out loud. Sometimes Jon would go to find him, if he'd been standing on his own for long enough, to tell him about an outrageous article he'd read in the paper or an art exhibit that Tom had told him about. It made the evenings go a little more quickly, and after all, Tom was enjoying himself and Jon didn't mind. Why shouldn't Jon enjoy himself too?
One night Tom had to actually come looking for him, finding him with Ryan on the terrace where Ryan was complaining about his newest suitor, a loud and clumsy young man just arrived in the city. "Oh, I'm sorry," Tom said when he found them standing together. "I just thought - you had said you wanted to leave early." Jon had said that, when they arrived to find Wentz waiting for them at the door, but he felt a little kinder now.
"Oh, don't worry about that," he said. "Take your time. Ryan and I are just telling each other our troubles out here."
"See, I told you," Wentz said, coming out through the doors to join them. "I said he was amusing himself, and that he'd come to find you if he wanted you." Jon looked at him sharply, but Wentz just threw himself into a chair and looked at Ryan. "So, I think you should tell us your troubles. I'll wager I could be of great service to you, in a great many ways. But we can start with your troubles."
"I'm not sure I trust you with my troubles," Ryan said with an arch look. "And I certainly won't break a confidence and tell you Jon's."
"Jon's," Tom said quietly. Wentz laughed.
"Yes, Jon's. I'm glad to see you don't stand on ceremony either, Ryan - I'm sure I may call you that - we don't believe in such nonsense here. Life is so much more enjoyable when you throw off all convention, don't you think?" Ryan raised his eyebrows and disagreed, and soon he and Wentz were embarked on a heated discussion. Tom sat quietly, listening, and Jon was quiet too, as he watched Tom. When he did not hold Wentz's attention he looked a little pale and tired, and Jon wondered if perhaps he had been wrong, perhaps exposure to Wentz only exacerbated the problem, rather than alleviating it. Perhaps he should have forbidden Wentz the house, as he was sure many people would have advised him. But Tom had been so happy lately, he couldn't bear to see that end, and besides, Jon thought, he was no longer sure that his own motives could be trusted, where Wentz and Tom were concerned.
Still, Tom did not look happy now, and so Jon felt within his rights to say in his ear, "Actually, I find I would like to leave. Would you mind?" Tom got up instantly, and they made their good-byes and headed out into the crowd toward the front door.
The crush was terrible, and Jon lost sight of Tom in front of him for a moment. As he craned his neck to look for him, he was jostled from behind and then heard his own name. Jon turned but no one was calling him. Instead, two men he didn't know were talking a little ways behind him. "Of course, he must have been in dire straits, but it's a pity Walker couldn't have waited half a season," one of them said. "Just think, he could have made a match with Ryan Ross, and gotten himself an heir and someone he needn't blush to take into his family's house."
"Yes," the other man said, "and from the looks of things it might even have been a love match. Dreadful timing," and just then the crowd surged and Jon caught sight of Tom, just in front of him. He shoved himself through to him by brute force.
Tom had been fixing his jacket when Jon lost sight of him, and he was still examining his sleeve, his head down, when Jon caught his wrist. "Here, the crowd is terrible," Jon said, and pushed him quickly, almost roughly, to the front door. Tom looked at Jon strangely, but he only said,
"Look, the carriage is here," and Jon was relieved to see that Tom hadn't overheard the men, at least. In the carriage Tom kept up an easy conversation, telling Jon a story he'd heard from Wentz, asking about some of Jon's friends, and Jon answered distractedly. He was lucky this time, he thought, but he would be more careful in the future. No matter how untrue the gossip was, he would hate to think of Tom hearing such a hurtful thing.
[x. the race]