2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A s Jonathan approached the Westenra estate, he couldn’t help but marvel at its grandeur, even in the gloom of the rainy night. The imposing Victorian mansion loomed before him, its red brick fa?ade adorned with ornate white trim and elegant bay windows. Manicured gardens, now glistening with raindrops, surrounded the house, lending it an air of aristocratic refinement.

As he neared the front door, Jonathan caught sight of a familiar figure being ushered out by Lucy. Arthur Holmwood, Lucy’s lover of several years, stammered out what appeared to be a hasty explanation for his presence. His usually impeccable appearance was in disarray; his waistcoat was unbuttoned, and his collar was askew. Jonathan couldn’t help but notice the telltale streaks of Lucy’s vibrant red lipstick on Arthur’s neck and the edge of his shirt collar.

Arthur’s blond hair, normally slicked back and neat, was tousled as if someone had repeatedly run their fingers through it. Jonathan couldn’t be sure if the blond’s cheeks were flushed from embarrassment at being caught or from recent exertion. The top button of Arthur’s trousers was undone, a detail he seemed oblivious to in his flustered state.

“You see, Harker,” Arthur began, his voice an octave higher than usual, “I was just... that is to say, Miss Westenra and I were merely discussing... ah, charitable endeavors! Yes, that’s it, charitable—“

As Arthur continued his rambling explanation, he absently wiped at a lipstick stain on his jaw, only succeeding in smearing it further. The sight would have been comical if Jonathan weren’t so weary and frustrated from his own evening’s misadventures.

Lucy, barely concealing her amusement, talked over Arthur’s fumbling excuses. Her golden hair was slightly mussed, and she wore a sheer white nightgown beneath a hastily donned silk robe in deep crimson. The robe hung open, revealing tantalizing glimpses of her figure.

“Yes, yes, Arthur,” she interrupted, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m certain Jonathan is absolutely enthralled by our... what was it again? Ah, yes, our ‘charitable efforts.’ Tell me, darling, was it the Widows and Orphans Fund or the Society for Distressed Gentlewomen we were so vigorously discussing?”

Arthur’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “I... well, that is to say...”

Lucy pressed on, not giving him a chance to collect his thoughts. “Oh, and do remember to button your trousers properly, dear. We wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about our philanthropic activities, would we?”

Arthur looked down in horror, hastily fastening his clothing.

“Now,” Lucy continued, pressing his coat into his arms, “do hurry along before you catch a cold in this dreadful rain. Although,” she added with a wicked grin, “I daresay you’ve worked up enough of a sweat to ward off any chill.”

With that, she all but pushed him out the door. Arthur stumbled on the threshold, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Oh, and Arthur?” Lucy called after him. “You might want to check your collar before you return home. Unless, of course, you’d like to explain to your dear mother why you’ve taken to wearing rouge.”

As Arthur’s retreating figure disappeared into the rain, Lucy turned to Jonathan with a laugh. “Men,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “They do make the most delightful fools of themselves, don’t they?”

Jonathan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“He really is adorably dense sometimes. I swear, if I had a mind to take a true husband, he’d be the one. At least he’s pretty to look at.” Her mirth faded as she took in Jonathan’s unkempt appearance and the bruise forming on his cheek. “Good Lord, Jonathan! What on earth happened to you?”

Jonathan sighed, stepping into the warmth of the foyer. “I was robbed,” he admitted, omitting the more sordid details of his evening.

Lucy’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “In the East End, I’d wager. Really, Jonathan, how long do you intend to keep those wild homoerotic urges of yours in check? It’s clearly not doing you any favors.”

Jonathan felt a flush creep up his neck, but Lucy’s frank assessment of his nature, devoid of judgment or disgust, was always a welcomed relief. A small chuckle escaped him, surprising even himself. Lucy had always had a knack for pulling him out of his darker moods.

The puppy began to squirm inside Jonathan’s coat, sensing the temperature change. Lucy’s eyebrows shot up as Jonathan sheepishly extracted the small, wet bundle.

“And what, pray tell, is that?” she demanded, eyeing the puppy warily.

“I found him in the rain,” Jonathan explained, cradling the trembling creature. “He was all alone, rejected... I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Lucy sighed dramatically, but her eyes softened as she gazed at Jonathan. Her dear friend was always so kind and giving, even when the world had been cruel to him.

“No strays in the house, Jonathan,” she said, her tone lacking its usual bite. “I already have you, after all.”

“Please, Lucy,” Jonathan pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I... I can’t put him back out there. Not when I know how it feels to be... unwanted.”

Something in Jonathan’s tone struck a chord deep within her. How many times had she watched him struggle against the desires of his heart, denying himself even the smallest comforts for fear of discovery?

Perhaps she should tell him how much she cared and how desperately she wanted him to find joy and experience the love and pleasure he so richly deserved. Jonathan was a kind, good man, and seeing him suffer in silence pained her.

For a moment, she considered broaching the subject of telling him to seek happiness wherever he could find it, societal norms be damned. But she hesitated, unsure if such a conversation would bring him comfort or only serve to remind him of the limitations placed upon him by a world that didn’t understand.

Instead, Lucy’s expression softened, a gentle smile playing at her lips. “Oh, very well,” she conceded with a wave of her hand. “But if it ruins the carpets, you’re paying for new ones. Come on then,” she said, gently taking his arm. “Let’s get you both cleaned up and warm. And Jonathan?” She paused, meeting his eyes. “You are wanted here. Always.”

Lucy guided Jonathan to the plush sofa in the sitting room, retrieving a bowl of water and a clean towel. “You know, I frequent the East End myself on occasion. Dressed as a man, of course – it’s terribly exciting. You’ll have to toughen up to sate yourself there.” She gently cleaned his wounds, her touch surprisingly tender despite her teasing words. “Tell me truthfully – did you at least get to enjoy the company of a pretty boy with blond curls and abs crafted by God himself before this beating?”

Jonathan winced, both from the sting of the damp cloth on his cuts and the memory of his humiliation. “No such luck, I’m afraid.”

Lucy patted his hand sympathetically. “Well, better luck next time, darling. Let’s see about getting you and your new furry friend cleaned up and fed. I daresay you both could use a bit of pampering tonight.”

She bustled about, getting the servants up and fussing over him and the puppy in equal measure. Their arrangement might be unconventional, built on mutual need rather than romantic love, but in moments like these, he was profoundly thankful for Lucy’s friendship and understanding.

Now dry and curled up contentedly in Jonathan’s lap, the puppy let out a small, satisfied sigh. Jonathan stroked its soft fur, feeling some of the tension and disappointment of the evening begin to ebb away. Tomorrow would bring new challenges. But for now, in this warm room, with Lucy’s chatter filling the air and the comforting weight of the puppy in his arms, Jonathan allowed himself a moment of peace.

Little did he know that far away, in a castle perched high in the Carpathian Mountains, events would soon draw him into a world beyond his wildest imaginings. In this world, his deepest desires and darkest fears would collide in ways he could never have anticipated.