What happened to Thomas Barrow ⎹ Downton Abbey⎹ Explicit 18+⎹ M/M⎹ Gay ♥ FanFic⎹

Behold His Grace, The Duke of Bad Manners

The Viscountess rolled her eyes when she found out that the Duke had invited himself to dine with them the following day. "Some things never change," she muttered, waving her hands.

Who was the most nervous between Thomas and Adam? I couldn't say. They both felt that they had something to hide from each other. They also both wanted to confide in each other, as they appreciated bonding over their mutual dislike of The Duke. But being British and silly, they said nothing in the short span that separated them from the impromptus visit.

At last, the time had come. In an hour the Duke would be there. Thomas climbed up the stairs to his Lordship's bedroom and found the Viscount sitting on his bed, biting at his nails, absolutely dishevelled. His hair had grown a bit over the last weeks and had started to curl in every direction. Thomas considered the beautiful mess he was for a moment.

In comparison he did look as stiff as a mannequin.

"How does his Lordship want to dress for a duke?" Thomas inquired, clearing his throat.

The Viscount glanced up and scoffed.

"For this one, in my nightclothes."

Thomas frowned. "Sir?"

"I mean, that's all the respect I have for this one," his Lordship added, jumping to his feet.

Their eyes met. They laughed timidly.

"Find something that makes me look unpleasant, Thomas." He took a deep breath, still smiling.

"That's going to be difficult, my Lord."

He sighed. "I know."

Thomas glanced at him, scoffing. Lord Westforth nodded back at him.

"I know exactly how I look. People have been telling me my whole life. I'm not going to insult you by pretending otherwise."

"Beautiful and vain," Thomas said softly.

His Lordship coughed.

"That was a long time ago. Now it's beautiful and nothing."

They remained silent, standing awkwardly, avoiding each other's gaze.

"You shouldn't give up my Lord," Thomas said after a while.

His Lordship shrugged.

"Who said I did? I'm still here, aren't I? Now dress me or leave. I have to entertain the Duke. It's going to be a long night."

The Duke was accompanied by a man - but it is of no surprise for your narrator - named Sir Paul Jenkins. He was a forty-something attorney of some consequence in London. He seemed like a decent fellow, but all everyone was thinking about was finishing supper and go to bed. The cunning Duke expressed his wish to stay the night, under some clever pretext involving a train and some mysterious errand.

Thomas had to ask Esther to prepare a room, and he felt annoyed at the Duke's behaviour. Even more so, when it couldn't have been clearer that the Duke was infatuated with HIS Lordship, and must had been since well before the war. He shared some blurry and distant tales about the fun they used to have and the people they used to meet. His Lordship, uncomfortable in his evening white tails, suffered through it with an occasional yawn, but pulled through to humour her Ladyship until she went upstairs.

The men withdrew to the drawing room to drink and smoke cigars. Lord Westforth was already four glasses ahead, but Thomas, standing by the table, was carefully counting, and knowing his Lordship, he knew he could handle a couple of others before starting slurring and stumbling. All seemed well, at first.