brigdh

Title: Kissing Cousins
Author: Brigdh
Ratings/Warnings: PG-13, allusions to m/m sex
Summary: There are tensions in the family after Freddy and Kitty's wedding.
Notes: Written for cest_what in the Yuletide 2008 Challenge. I can't believe I forgot to post this to LJ! Uh, correcting that now. I don't remember if I had any other notes. I'm not much at writing comedy and, as I discovered Georgette Heyer's bouncy style is way antithetical to my own writing style, but um, here's this.

Kissing Cousins

If the engagement between the Honourable Frederick Standen and Miss Charing- his uncle's ward, but not Freddy's cousin. Probably. - had seemed a bit, well, odd at first, by their wedding one and all agreed that they were eminently suited for one another. The bride wore a lovely gown of pale blue with silver trimming, which set off her dark eyes, and a matching satin bonnet, from which just one curl escaped. The groom was attired in his best, which was quite a bit better than most men's best, and it was no surprise to anyone that they were the finest-looking couple to be married in a while, and quite shone down the Mr. and Mrs. Grey who had previously held that title. There was a short honeymoon in Brighton- Freddy had quashed his new wife's suggestion that they visit her cousin in France, and neither of them saw anything but boredom to come from retiring to the country- and soon were ensconced in a house in Mayfair, as stylish as either could wish.

It was in that house one day, in its bright, tastefully decorated morning room, that the new Mrs. Standen drank tea with Lady Buckhaven, who was much inclined to be indolent in the wake of having produced a son for Lord Buckhaven, and enjoyed nothing so much as a long discussion of whatever the current on-dit happened to be. Since Kitty was rarely at the forefront of knowledge in the latest scandal, Meg was usually in the position to teach her all of it, which was Meg's favorite position.

But on this day, there was a sad lack of tales to tell. London had behaved abominably well for several weeks, and they had already hashed out every satisfying outrage that could be wrung from the last crim. con. story. Which was why Meg resorted to a long-favoured source of rumor, the actions of their cousin Jack.

"You know, Kitty," she said, nibbling on a biscuit, "Jack quite seems to be avoiding London. He hasn't been to see me in simply ages, and they haven't had a word of him at Almack's, or the theatre, or any place that I know of. I'm of a mind to be quite off-put. I hate it when men decide to be mysterious. I've never seen a need for it."

Kitty smiled. "I'm sure he wouldn't be mysterious on purpose, if he knew you minded."

"Yes, he would. He's Jack. And that's why no female can resist him."

"He's not quite as well-dressed as Freddy, though," Kitty said stoutly.

Meg sighed. "No one is as well-dressed as Freddy, my dear. My brother has taste, if nothing else. But Jack has that Corinthian air; the wrinkles just seem to make him more handsome." She went on archly, "I do wonder if he hasn't found something to distract him from us."

"Well," Kitty said, and then stopped, blushing slightly. "Certainly it couldn't be anything too bad. That is, he did- but I am sure he would not- and after all, it wasn't as though- well, it must all be a bubble, indeed."

Meg pursed her lips. "Yes, and since just before your marriage, now that I think of it. Perhaps it put him out of countenance; I always had heard that he had a fondness for you, Kitty, though you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted."

Kitty's blush deepened. "No, I am sure you are mistaken. Perhaps he's out of town on business. He always did seem dreadfully busy to me."

"I suppose you're right." Meg shrugged. "I can't say I want him to be involved with some chere-amie, even if it would be something to talk about."

Kitty moved the conversation to another vein, feeling very grateful that Meg seemed to have no lasting affection for the subject of Jack Westruther's love life, but she found it more difficult to divert her own thoughts. And so it was that a few hours later, when the occupants of the house had changed a bit- less Lady Buckhaven, more Mr. Standen- that the topic arose again.

"Freddy," Kitty began, feeling a bit awkward, "have you seen Jack recently?"

"Don't think so," Freddy said, idly looking over the mail that had come that day. "Probably would remember it if I had. Not an easy fellow to overlook, Jack."

Kitty gave a small smile. "Meg says he's been out of town."

"Has he? Fool thing to do. Parham's giving a ball tomorrow. It'll be a dreadful rout, even if the man has no taste in musicians. Still, can't miss it. Would look bad."

"Will it be so crowded?" Kitty said, distracted. "Perhaps I shouldn't wear my new green muslin, then. It would be a horrible shame if it was crushed the first time I wore it out."

Freddy's head popped up from the letters. "What? Of course you must wear the green muslin. Too many people there not to wear it. Wouldn't want them to say you're not of the first water, you know."

"Oh, good. I do think it is quite fetching, much more so than the yellow with the flower print."

"Not the yellow," Freddy said firmly.

"But Freddy," Kitty said, remembering her goal, "you don't think Jack's upset with us, do you?"

"Over the yellow dress? Lord, it's not that bad, Kit. And besides, I don't think he's seen you in it."

"No, Freddy," Kitty said. "I was thinking that he might be upset over- well, what I mean to say is, he did seem rather angry- it is so embarrassing to have to say- Freddy, you do not think that he might still be cross over my refusing to marry him, do you?"

"By Jove," said Freddy, much struck by the idea. "No, couldn't be. He hasn't said a word to me about it."

"Well, he wouldn't, would he?"

"Course he wouldn't! Clever of you to think of that, Kit."

"You do think he's angry, then?"

"Hard to say with Jack. He's always a bit high in the instep, even when he's in a good humour. Don't know how I'd know if he was out of sorts with me."

"Don't you think we ought to do something, Freddy?" asked Kitty, looking up at him with her large, dark eyes. "I hate to think that he's suffering, even if he was rather odious. But we are so happy now that it would be awful of us not to help him, don't you think?"

"No, don't think so at all." Freddy said, glancing away from her look of appeal. "What is there to do? Can't exactly offer the fellow an apology, even if I wanted to, and I can tell you, Kit, I don't!"

"Oh, no, of course you couldn't do that," Kitty said, downcast. "But surely there must be something."

"Best thing for it is to leave him alone. He's no coxcomb; he'll come off it soon enough."

Kitty sighed. "I suppose you're right. But I know I'll find some solution, if only I think hard enough on it."

"You can think of whatever you like, long as it doesn't lead to a lot of dust kicked up. Now, look here, Kit, have you seen where I left that calendar of mine?"

If the second conversation about Jack Westruther in that charming little house in Mayfair eased Kitty's mind, it was only because the concern was passed on to Mr. Standen. To be fair to Kitty, it is unlikely Freddy would have thought of it at all, if he had not chanced to cross paths with the subject of so many words that very evening, in Boodle's Club. Freddy had only intended to smoke, and perhaps bandy words with Jasper Stonehouse, or another such good fellow. And instead there was Jack, busily engaged in faro with what looked like a group of flats, which was rather unsporting of him.

He noticed Freddy as he came into the room, and looked at him for a long moment, a flat expression on his face, before turning his attention back down to the cards. It made Freddy a bit uncomfortable, and he wondered if Kitty wasn't on to something after all. Seemed like he'd been right, and the only thing to do was leave Jack to himself for a while. But, Freddy soon realized, he'd been right twice today: Jack was not an easy fellow to overlook.

Freddy had just sat down with a glass of sherry when the current round of faro ended. Jack stood up, collecting his coins and making excuses to his fellow gamesters, and wandered over to Freddy's chair without a bit of nonchalance.

"Jack," Freddy said, nodding with as much aplomb as he could.

"My dear Freddy," Jack said slowly, setting one hand on the back of Freddy's chair. "And how are you enjoying your leg-shackling?"

"Quite well, thank you," Freddy said, thinking that he would do well to ride over this conversation as smoothly as possible. "Back from the honeymoon, y'know."

Jack made a small movement with his lips, not quite an acknowledgement. "I never thought you were in the petticoat line."

"Wasn't. Thought it was too much trouble." Freddy considered. "And it is rather a bother, but I like Kit well enough to not mind that."

"Romantic," Jack said, not quite sneering.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Freddy said. They were both silent for a moment, Freddy staring determinedly into his drink, trying his hardest not to do anything that would make Jack linger. But as the pause grew longer, it occurred to him that Kitty would want him to do something more. Freddy sighed silently, and ventured, "She's convinced herself that you've a quarrel with her. I told her not to be silly; of course you wouldn't hold something like this against her."

"Of course," Jack echoed, his voice mocking and his blue eyes hard.

"Well, it ain't like you to be such a dunderhead," Freddy said bluntly. "You've only got yourself convinced you were in love with her; I don't reckon you'd suit at all."

Jack laughed, and leaned down to speak to Freddy in a low, intense voice. "I think I understand myself, coz. Though if I ever need advice, I'm sure you would be the first I'd turn to."

"Should. Got a clearer head than you in this. And you know what I think? You're not wearing the willow for Kit at all. Think you're only in a miff because I beat you to line."

Jack paused for a moment before answering. "My Tulip has some steel in him after all."

"Always did," Freddy said. "You know that."

Jack nodded. Freddy shrugged, a bit disconcerted, and said, "Seems to me a few bits of muslin's all you need to be at rights again."

"Seems we've switched roles, coz," Jack said, his voice laced with ironic amusement, but amusement after all. "I don't feel much in the petticoat line just now."

"Well," Freddy said, looking up into Jack's face with clear eyes. "That's not such a problem."

Jack raised his brows. "Oh? But what about the blushing bride?"

"Kit won't mind. She likes you too, after all."

Jack's eyes briefly opened wider. "Now that, sweet coz, is a fascinating statement."

"Daresay. Not today, though," Freddy said, rising from his chair and clapping Jack on the back. "Now, lead the way to your rooms. No sense standing around gabbing."

Much later that night, Mrs. Standen was dozing on a couch, a novel fallen in her lap, when her husband came in and woke her with a kiss on the cheek. "Fixed the problem for you," he said proudly.

"Oh! Freddy," she said, wiping sleep from her eyes. "What?"

"'bout Jack. Saw him in the club. Nothing to worry about, Kit. It's all right between us now."

"Truly?" Kitty said. "How wonderful! Thank you, Freddy!"

"Don't make a fuss. There wasn't nothing to it."

***