At the landing, Lord Fine headed toward the smoking room. Rory took a step toward the next flight of stairs, but Arthur gently snagged his wrist. “Join us?”

Rory hesitated. “I do trust you, you know,” he said, swallowing. “I don’t need eyes on you.”

“I want your company,” Arthur said. “You might even enjoy it; he’s usually got Cuban cigars, if you’re curious to try one, and I’ll be stripped to my shirtsleeves and bent over the billiards table.” He lowered his voice. “You can watch Wesley trounce me at pool, and then you can trounce me any way you like.”

A shiver of want went through Rory. “Yeah,” he said hastily. “Yeah, all right, I’m coming.”

Rory got back to his room an hour later to find someone had come in during dinner. They’d closed the curtains, tidied the two things Rory had left out, and turned down his duvet. Geez, Lord Fine was too good to turn down his own blankets?

He checked his suitcase and found the ring box in its place, a quick peek confirming the flash of gold within. He hastily shut it; he really didn’t need access to the wind around Lord Fine. He shucked his suit and stretched out on the bed on his back with his book.

It was as comfortable as Ace’s bed in Manhattan, the sheets far softer than the ones on the boat. Rory tried to read, but the words weren’t making much sense, and after a page, he let his head fall sideways against the fluffy pillow and closed his eyes.

What felt like only moments later, someone was gently taking his glasses off.

Rory’s eyes fluttered. “Ace?”

“Would you rather I were Wes?” Arthur’s voice was low and teasing. The room was dark now, Arthur having turned off the light, and he was setting Rory’s glasses on the nightstand. “Come here.”

Arthur spooned behind Rory, his arms coming around him to pull him against his shirt-covered chest.

Rory settled in, soaking in Arthur’s warmth, then distantly remembered, “We had planned—”

“This is just as good a revenge, if revenge is what you’re after,” Arthur said softly. “Wesley and I would never have just lain together like this.”

“Why not?” Rory said sleepily. “If anyone needs a good cuddle, it’s that asshole.”

Arthur made a soft half laugh. “Perhaps, but he didn’t want it from me. We were both so outrageously lonely when I was here but unfortunately terrible at comforting each other. We mostly just fought.”

“Bet Lord Fine never blew apart your best friend’s speakeasy ’cause he got jealous, though.”

Arthur laughed again. “Go back to sleep,” he said, kissing Rory on the head. “I’m here until that happens, and then I’ll sneak back up in the morning. I’ve got some good ideas for how to wake you.”