Chapter Text
It is fair to say that James does not sleep well that night. He does not sleep well at all. He tosses and turns, this way and that. He tries to pace around his room and walk himself to exhaustion, but it seems his earlier tiredness has abated. He tries to read and fails to distract himself. Counting sheep has no effect. His heartache keeps him awake.
James has not slept a wink by the time the sun shines through the curtains. His body is stiff and there is a crick in his neck. Mentally and physically, he feels drained. What he could do with right now is a stiff drink and zero responsibilities. James wants to mope and sulk and wallow in despair and self-pity.
But, as it stands, he has more responsibilities than before. Not only is he now the head of his family but he has no idea whether to leave this house as soon as possible, as Zack suggested, or to stay and help Harry leave regardless. One thing he knows, is that he cannot leave without knowing why. What happened while he was at dinner?
He doesn’t expect Zack to valet for him, so he doesn’t bother ringing the bell. He dresses and heads downstairs for breakfast, pushing aside his pain and donning a mask. Never show weakness, was one of his mother’s favourite sayings. Never let anyone know how they can beat you. Never make it easy for them.
He is the first to rise, startling some of the servants busying around the house. He waves away their apologies, simply asks where he can wait out of the way. He smiles tightly at Liberty as she passes by with a duster in hand, but he can’t bring himself to mirror her energy. Will gives him and odd look, and James has no doubt that the seasoned eavesdropper heard the shouting last night. Perhaps, he knows the reason why, but there is little chance of him telling James why.
Soon, S’Avage retrieves him. James doesn’t have to wait long in the dining room for Lord Tony and his son-in-law to come down. Lord Tony, as ever, is oblivious to any tension. James is beginning to think that childlike ignorance is the man’s default setting. But Ste is as smug as ever.
Suddenly, there is no doubt of Ste’s involvement. The looks during dinner; his absence from the drawing room just after dinner; his self-satisfied smile: they all point to him being responsible. He said something to Harry that made him think James a liar. James needs to know what it was if he is to have any hope of repairing relations with Harry.
“Did you sleep well?” Lord Tony asks, tucking into his kedgeree and toast.
“Like a baby.” Like a teething baby, more like. James is happy to see Ste’s expression falter; clearly he expected James to be visibly upset.
“Lord Ste,” starts James, making a conscious effort not to fracture Ste’s jaw. His injury from yesterday has avoided becoming a black eye. “How have you been since I was last here? I seem to have spoken to everyone but you.”
“Oh, not much. Though I did hear something interesting from a friend. Some noble lord has died. Apparently he’s been on his death bed for a while, but he’s finally kicked the bucket.” James freezes and he sees the moment Ste realises he has James in a trap. “It was only a small mention in the paper - the widow probably paid the press not to make a big deal of it - but something caught my eye. A picture of the new lord, quite an old one, sure, but it was unmistakable. Then the caption, just one line - ‘heir James Nightingale, first son of deceased Lord Mackenzie Nightingale and Marnie Nightingale, formerly of the American Maxwell-Browns, will inherit the title and estate in full’. You’re the new Lord Nightingale, aren’t you?”
“And if I am?”
“Well, then you’ve been lying to us. To all of us. Harry included. And how do you think Harry reacted to finding out that you are now a Duke, that you lied to him. What else have you lied abut? Your feelings maybe?”
Oh, shit. He knew this lie would come back to bite him on his arse. He knew revealing the truth to Harry would be difficult, but he hoped Harry would understand given their profound bond. But if Ste whispered into Harry’s ear and sowed seeds of doubt then no wonder Zack assaulted him. He has to make this right.
“Is this true?” Asks a bewildered Tony, his toast falling from his hand. “You’re Mac Nightingale’s son.”
James turns to Tony with his coldest expression, veiling his disgust at the man no longer. With the truth out he can look at him as if he were a piece of dirt on his shoe without fearing retribution. “Is that a problem?”
“B—But why would you lie? We thought you were James Maxwell-Brown- a scholar.”
“That is none of your business, Lord Hutchinson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, something urgent has come up.”
James stands and heads off the door but is halted by Ste standing in his way. “Move. Or you will be moved.”
Ste spits, “this man is a liar and scoundrel! Tony, we should kick him out now! No longer shall he step foot in this house.” Ste waits for his back-up. But none comes, and he turns gobsmacked to his father-in-law. “Tony?”
“He outranks us.”
“In our own home?”
“Quite so, I’m afraid.” Interjects James. “Now, move.”
“Ste, let him pass. We don’t want to know what damage he could do to our reputation if we cross him.” James almost cheers at Tony’s spinelessness. At least this man has sense.
“Listen to him, Ste. You really don’t want to know.”
James leaves the two men to their breakfast and pushes them from his mind. He must make things right with Harry, have his chance to explain. Surely Harry will grant him that. Harry must love him enough to hear him out.
Before James knows it he is knocking on the door, his heart pounding on his chest. He wonders if it will bruise? It feels as if his ribs are cracking from the inside. His palms are sweaty and his mouth is dry. His knees are wobbly; if it takes any longer for Zack to open this door he might collapse.
He can hear muttering on the other side of the door and then finally the door is opened and Zack is scowling at him once more. “What do you want?”
“I need a chance to explain, Zack. There’s been a misunderstanding.” He doesn’t wait for a response, simply pushes gently past Zack into the bedroom.
Harry is still in the bed, still as bruised and bloody as before. But unlike yesterday, the mood in the room is oppressively depressing. The shutters are still closed, the air feels musty and too warm. Harry has his back to the door, to James, and he must be boiling under all of his blankets.
James rounds the bed and sits down, ignoring Harry’s tired plea — “go away, James, please”. The younger man refuses to look him in the eye. His cheeks are tear-stained and his eyes are puffy and rubbed raw.
“No.” For all that James loves Harry and would do anything he asked, he will not do this. “I need to know what Ste told you, so that I can explain.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious what he said.” Zack snaps from the corner of the room, shooting daggers at James’ back. “He told us the truth. Or are you not a Duke, Lord James Nightingale?”
James addresses Harry as he speaks. “Yes. I am. But until a few weeks ago I had renounced my family. I gave up the title and the money and the estate, everything. I could no longer live that life so I chose a different one: the life of a penniless scholar begging favours off rich Lords and Ladies.”
Still, Harry resolutely looks away. Once again, Zack speaks for him. “What changed?”
“My father died. Apparently I was still named as heir in his will, and since neither of my brothers want to lead the family I had to accept. That’s where I’ve been these past few weeks, in meetings and reading paperwork and fixing the mess my father left. I’m sorry. I should have told you, either when we first got to know each other, or when I returned as a lord. You don’t deserve to be lied to.”
Slowly, as if held down my a monumental weight, Harry turns to lie on his back, looking up at James. If the tears weren’t enough to break James’ heart, the hollow pit in his eyes would surely shatter it.
“Was anything you told me true?” Harry asks, his voice a hoarse croak that spoke of hours crying and wailing.
“Yes, of course. Everything. My mother comes from an American family, I have three siblings - Nathan, Ellie and Alfie - and my father is… Everything I told you is true, except for that detail. That I’m noble born and richer than I could possibly believe.”
“Ste…” Harry starts, and James can’t help his scowl. “He told me you lied on purpose. Said you were planning to keep me as your secret affair in some out of the way village while you went to dinners and parties with someone else - someone better. He said you didn’t love me, you were just having fun making me believe it. That you were toying with me.”
“No, Harry, no. I would never do that to you.” James dares to reach out for Harry’s hand, and his heart soars when he squeezes back. “I admit I didn’t tell you, but you can’t believe a word Ste says. The man has abused you for years, he enjoys causing you pain, so imagine how happy he would be knowing he ruined your chance at a happy life. You’ve stood up against him now and shown him that his punches won’t keep you down, he’s desperate.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for? I shouldn’t have kept it from you. We were meant to be completely honest and have no secrets, but I kept one of the biggest secrets ever from you. I am sorry.”
“I believed him. I don’t know why, and I should’ve known better than to take him at his word.”
“It’s okay, Harry. We’re okay, aren’t we?”
“Yes. Everything will work itself out.”
Harry leans in for a kiss that James is more than happy to reciprocate. The emotional whirlwind of the past few hours finally quietens and he feels at peace. He just wants a simple life with Harry - no drama, no fighting, no lying. Though, he must admit he feels a weight lifting from his chest now that the lie is gone. From the moment he felt that first spark of attraction to Harry, James wished to be completely honest with him. He wanted to bare his soul to the man and have him see him for all of his flaws and imperfections. It was only his aversion to any links of his past and his family that kept him from revealing all. He had been so used to hiding his past that actually divulging his secrets was difficult to carry out.
James finds himself grateful for Ste’s intervention. Thinking on it, he has no idea how he was planning on telling Harry. There is no way that wouldn’t be awkward or with at least a little tension - having it come out in such an explosive way might have been for the best. And that’s when it hits him; explosive confrontation might be the best option.
He pulls away from Harry, catching his breath. “I’ve got it.”
“Got what?”
“I know how to get you a divorce.”
Harry sits up eagerly, well, sits up as much as his heavily bandaged torso will allow him to. “How? You know we can’t just ask him, that will never work.”
“I am aware. But, when I told your father that the situation with McQueen was dealt with, he offered me a debt. Anything I want. And what I want is Ste to divorce you.”
Harry scoffs lightly, “I don’t think that’ll work. Surely that’s too much to ask. He won’t do it.”
“He reiterated several times that nothing is too big - he offered to bail me out of prison, get me a knighthood if I wanted one. I have him where I want him.”
“But he didn’t sign anything - there’s no contract that says he’ll give you this favour.”
James smiles, that sly smile that shows he knows he’s winning. “You know how I got McQueen to stop?”
“You blackmailed him.”
“And what’s to say I don’t have material to use against your family.”
“You want to blackmail my dad?”
“That was our original plan, wasn’t it? If he refuses to give me this favour, I will blackmail him for it - and this time he has no me to fix it for him.”
“You really are an evil man, James.”
“Good evil, I hope.”
“Definitely.” Harry tugs him closer by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him teasingly.
It ends all too quickly, their mutual feelings of anticipation driving them to distraction. They want this whole episode in their lives to be over so that they can start a new chapter together. Soon, they will be driving off into the sunset together - their own happily ever after.
James heads downstairs, reluctantly leaving Harry in the bedroom - his injuries make it impossible for him to leave the comfort and safety of his bed for long - and calls for Tony to come out. He clenches his fists and puts on his best business face. He needs to be focused to outwit Tony and leave him no way out.
“What’s going on?” Lord Tony asks, seeming so much smaller and insignificant than he did before. James knows that their positions are equal now, but his family is much richer and more influential than the Hutchinson’s.
James stops on the penultimate step as the other lord comes closer. “I want to call in that favour.”
“Oh? I can’t think of anything a lord would want that he can’t get himself. What is it?”
“I want Ste to divorce Harry. Preferably sooner rather than later.”
“What? I don’t understand. Ste would never divorce Harry and I would never allow it. Do you know what I went through to arrange the marriage in the first place?”
James fights down a grin - he doesn’t like it when things are too easy, this way he can show his strength. “Oh, I do know. But I don’t care. They will divorce, and you will expend every penny possible to make it go smoothly as it can. You owe me this.”
Lord Tony bristles, standing up to his full height even though James is standing on a step and is taller anyway. The man might throw a punch if James goads him enough, but that doesn’t scare him; James has had enough practice standing up to bullying fathers. “And what if I don’t?”
“Then you will be ruined. If you don’t hold up your end of the bargain and do as I say, John Paul McQueen will look like a gnat in comparison to the havoc I could cause. I know things that will destroy your reputation for generations to come.”
“You signed a non-disclosure. You signed away your right reveal the information McQueen had weeks ago.” Tony’s victorious expression simply added to James’ own victory.
“Did I though? If you’ll remember, or indeed check the papers, I signed them as James Maxwell-Brown, which, we now know, is not my legal name, therefore the contract is not legally binding. And besides, I know more than McQueen.”
“You’re bluffing. How could you know anything? Prove it.”
“Very well. I know why you were so adamant for Ste and Harry to marry - so that you could legitimise Ste and his children as your heirs and give them a share of your wealth upon your death. So you could join the Hay estate to your own.”
“B—But, Ste hasn’t got any children.” He sputters indignantly.
“The nanny, Amy Barnes, has two children, yes - Leah and Lucas, if I’m not mistaken. She’s unmarried, rather down on her luck, and no reputable employer would keep her on, especially not looking after noble children. But they would if she were part of the family. They’re Ste’s children, aren’t they?”
“It’s not illegal for a man to have children.”
“No. But it would ruin Sinead’s reputation if people were to find out about her’s as well. Plus, your many affairs, and failed business ventures. You’ve cheated thousands of honest, working men out of their hard earned cash and never faced the consequences. I have so much I can use to robing your down, and no doubt I will obtain more. So, do not doubt that I will unleash it should you violate our agreement.”
Tony seems to understand, bowing his head to his superior. “I’ll talk to Ste. Get him to accept.”
“You should be happy about this, Tony.”
“And why is that?” The man spits. “You are blackmailing me and taking my son away from his home and his family. You know how fragile he is, he doesn’t need all this trouble.”
“If you think that your son is safe here, happy here, then you are blind. Delusional and blind. Your son is stronger than you give him credit for and is worth more than the worth of his marriage. His husband beats, belittles and cheats on him. How could you force your son into a marriage like that? You are no true father. You claim to love and care for him, but you do not. If you do, truly, love him as a father should, then let him be free.”
At that the man is speechless for once, and James takes his cue to return upstairs. “I expect to be updated on your progress, Tony.” He calls over his shoulder, and he hears a quiet affirmative a few moments later.
James returns to Harry’s room with his suppressed smile splitting his face. There is no need for words between them - their plan worked, and everything will be well.
*
Several months later, Harry launches himself out of the Nightingale family’s motor car and into James’ waiting arms. He clings on for dear life, burrowing his face in James’ neck and holding back his tears of happiness. James holds on just as tightly. He pulls Harry close enough to feel every inch of his body.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Harry wipes away a stray tear as he reluctantly steps away, looking James up and down. In a tailored suit that costs more than the cottage they had dreamt about, looking every inch the suave, sophisticated lord, Harry’s mouth waters at the sight of his lover. He’d had fantasies about taking James to a tailor and watch him transform from a scholar in a shabby, tweed suit to a socialite in a tail coat. “Look at you, dressed up all fancy.”
James blushes, failing to hide his smile. “It’s been too long, Harry, but I’m glad everything is over now.”
“I can’t believe it. I still can’t believe it.”
“I know. Now, come in, you must meet the rest of the family.” James takes him by the hand and leads him past the butler and the footmen to the library. Harry feels his palms begin to sweat. What if they don’t like him? What if they resent him for all the trouble he’s caused?
As if he knows the self-self-deprecating thoughts running through Harry’s mind, James reassuringly squeezes his hand. “They’ll love you, trust me.”
When they enter the library, all eyes are on them. Harry relies on his noble-family teachings to keep from shrinking away and stammering. The Nightingale family are an intimidating bunch, even without James’ late father - he knows that no one in this room would hurt him intentionally, but he can’t help being wary of the matriarch’s stern, penetrating stare.
“Everyone,” James announces to the room, “this is Harry. Harry, this is my family. My mother, Marnie.”
Marnie Nightingale puts aside her teacup and approaches the pair. To Harry, she looks like a Queen, striding regally across the room, and he feel the urge to bow and say ‘your Majesty’. Thankfully, he refrains, else that would be embarrassing. She pierces him with her eyes like a butterfly under a glass, and then her face breaks into a pleasant smile and she wraps him gently in her arms.
“Oh, you are sweet.” She says loudly, commanding the room. The rest of the family, Harry included, release a breath. But, in his ear, she whispers menacingly, “if you hurt my boy, I will make sure that no one finds your body. Trust me, I can do it.” She releases him, still smiling, and Harry nods, his own smile hesitant. He can’t tell if that was good or not.
James continues the introductions. “My brothers, Nathan and Alfie, and my sister, Ellie.” Nathan stands to shake his hand, but Alfie only spares him a glance from where he is contemplating his next chess move. Ellie, however, leaps on him and attempts to crush his organs.
“I’m so happy to see you. James never shuts up about you. Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just so nice to see him so happy.” She squeals, clapping her hands together.
With Ellie distracted with happiness, drawing all of the attention in the room, James tugs Harry to the side of the room. They hadn’t let go of each other’s hands the whole time. “Well, now that you’ve been introduced and have my mother’s seal of approval, how about we catch up? We’ve barely seen each other since the divorce proceedings started.”
“I know. I wish you could’ve been by my side - it would’ve made things so much easier - but that lawyer you hired thought it might be wiser, so that you couldn’t be accused of interfering.”
“I know and I agreed with him. But all my worries have gone away now that you’re here in my arms. I’m glad to see you’re all healed up.”
Harry looks down at his gloved hands, then slowly starts to peel them off. “Mostly healed. They can’t get rid of the scars.” The burn scar on his left hand is less noticeable than it was a few months ago, but it is a far cry from the baby smooth skin it was before. Much like James he has other scars, but none so obvious as this.
“I love you, Harry.”
Harry looks up in surprise, “I love you, too.”
James takes his scarred hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. “I love you, Harry. Flaws and all, scars and all. You have seen the worst parts of me, the parts I was ashamed to show anyone, and it is only fair that I see yours and love you still. I love you so much, Harry. never doubt that, please."
“I won’t. You have given me more love and hope and happiness in the past year than anyone else has in my entire life. It is a privilege and an honour to be in love with you. You are all that I want, and I love you.”
Harry will never tire of saying those three simple words. He is so grateful for everything he has been given, so thankful, and he is determined to make the most of it. He reaches up to take James’ face in his hands - not quite believing that the love of his life is finally in front of him and will not be leaving any time soon - and kisses him for the first time in months. He swears to never again be apart from James.
“Harry, I do have one little thing to ask.” James pulls away, mouth set in a serious frown.
“Don’t be so serious, James, whatever it is, just ask.”
James clears his throat awkwardly, his nervousness is hopelessly endearing. “Harry, will you accept my formal courtship? Or, do I need to ask your father’s permission?”
“Who cares about what my father thinks. I would love to court you, so yes, I accept.”
And to think, this all started in the west wing of his father’s library.