It had been nearly a month since the weekend that Alcuin had spent with Giles in Terre d'Ange - or rather, thinking they were in Terre d'Ange, as completely incomprehensible as that was. And though there was nothing overtly wrong in their relationship, it was clear that things were different. Strained, somehow. Not the least of which being the
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"Alcuin," I say, stepping past him to reach for a towel, which I then hand to Alcuin as I reach to right the teacup. "I didn't mean to startle." I do not know Alcuin to be so jumpy or easily caught off guard, but then, it happens to everyone, I suppose.
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He was tempted to tell him what had transpired, if only because he thought that he might have some counsel that would help Rupert. After all, he understood such a situation better than anyone else could.
But still...
"Joscelin," he finally said, "if I tell you something, will you trust that I have kept it from Phedre for what I consider to be valid reasons?"
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"Sorry about that," he apologizes with a friendly smile, looking up at him. "I didn't mean to startle you. I hope it wasn't hot?"
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"No, it was hardly your fault," he assured him, dabbing at the wet spot on his trousers. "I'm not normally so clumsy..."
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It was a more palatable answer than the truth. As kind as Scotty may be, somehow Alcuin did not think that he was signing up to take on the burden of Alcuin's real issues.
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"I... am not usually so clumsy," he said, embarrassment laced into the round, French vowels. Nor so nervous, though he didn't draw attention to that.
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One look at him, and Patrick could assume the second had occurred. Recently. Human beings were such barbarians. His tone actually softened, and he nodded to the chair. "Why don't you sit down, while I make us more tea?"
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He sat, and turned to watch him. He was vaguely familiar, in the way that so many people on the island were after so long, but Alcuin was quite sure he'd never met him. Handsome, and well dressed, which was something Alcuin could appreciate. Though the kind smile was even better.
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