A Christmas Cotillion

with him, as many young men did.
They lived together happily, a confirmed couple to their close intimates and just good friends to their families and the wider social circle. Due to his nature and more modest income, Jonathan had a quiet routine, while Sebastian, at least during the season, attended balls and soirees and dabbled at the fashionable West End gaming hells.
For those precious few years, it seemed like they complemented each other perfectly. Opposites really can attract, Jonathan smiled a little sadly to himself. Sebastian drew Jonathan out of his self-protective shell, made him more outgoing and socially confident, while Jonathan calmed down Sebastian’s more erratic, impulsive nature.
However different their natures and income, privately, their lovemaking was always joyous, always equal. Jonathan remembered all shared laughter and private jokes and the sheer, breathtaking beauty of his lover.
But, perhaps inevitably, after a long season in the sun, the cracks began to show. Jonathan was spending more time in the countryside with his ageing uncles as they grew more frail. Sebastian was understanding of this at first and on Jonathan’s return to their rooms, their reconciliations were more passionate than ever.
However, it became clear that Sebastian was growing bored with the social round in London, especially when the repetitive routine was emphasised by Jonathan’s absences. As the seemingly endless war in Europe drew to a close, he was eager to spread his wings and travel abroad, in a Grand Tour that had been the norm for his father and grandfather before him, before Napoleon had put a stop to such excursions.
At first, it was nothing but exhilarating to join in with these projects, buoyed by Sebastian’s eager enthusiasm. Together, they discussed where they would travel, what they would see, and all the adventures they would share.
Looking back, Jonathan realised that he had already begun to mature by this time, having taken on more responsibility for his uncles. Rather than resenting the increasing burden of care, he took on the mantle gladly. For him, it was merely a return for all the years of his childhood when his uncles had provided him with their protection.
Also, although never bored of Sebastian’s company, he found the life of mindless pleasure in London a little dulling. He rather missed the academic discipline of school and university and so he felt it sharpened his brain and wits to assist his uncles gathering together their various legal papers to get their life’s business in some order.
As an orphan without siblings, he felt a sense of belonging during his increasingly frequent visits. He enjoyed listening to the reminiscences about his parents and long-gone family members. Even if he hadn’t comprehended this at the time, he knew now that he was never cut out to be a kept man, his only desire being his lover’s momentary whim.
The sad passing of one uncle left him surprisingly bereft and he ploughed his energies into disposing of the settlements as to the old man’s precise wishes. Little more than a year later, the death of his remaining uncle made him the heir to an estate, if you could call it that, he thought with a rueful smile. Tumbledown ruin it might have been, but it still entailed an obligation.
Sebastian would not understand. Could not understand, for his was a life without any accountability. If something needed doing, he directed a man of business to take care of it for him and promptly forgot about it. After all, that was what money was for.
And so, for some months, Jonathan vacillated, torn between family duties and the life of thoughtless ease his lover expected him to lead. He remembered how he felt permanently exhausted from balancing his two existences, trying to sort out his uncle’s neglected lands and at the same time playing the role of Sebastian’s carefree companion.
Inevitably, Sebastian’s vague plans for his continental excursion became more confirmed and so he became more impatient at each delay. “Why can’t we go now?” he’d ask, exasperated at what he saw as Jonathan’s excuses, running a careless hand through that golden mane Jonathan adored so much.
Jonathan desperately tried to placate him, asking for a few more weeks to settle his affairs, running himself ragged at trying to fix years of neglect at the farm in no time at all and with limited resources. The uneasy compromise continued for some months until an unexpected event toppled everything.
Jonathan got the tragic news that his mother’s younger brother had died suddenly of a fever, leaving his Aunt Matilda and a brood of small children without protection. On the announcement of yet another death in the family, Sebastian let him leave town with barely concealed irritation and impatience.
While Jonathan comforted the grieving widow and sorted out her husband’s tangled business dealings to her everlasting relief, he realised that he was now truly the head of the family. He could no longer pretend to himself that he could run away and leave all his responsibilities.
When he returned to London, much later than he had hoped, Sebastian was bitterly resolved. The rows were dreadful. Jonathan, usually so stoical and calm, had been reduced to tears and uncharacteristically distraught pleading.
“My aunt needs me,” he tried to explain, his voice breaking with emotion. “I cannot abandon her with no resources and the fear she might lose her home. She requires a male relative to intervene with the bank and lawyers and I am the only one she has. There is no one else to assist her.”
“But why must we delay, again?” Sebastian railed at him, eyes blazing angrily. “I need you too. Much more than your assorted incumbent relatives.” He dismissed Jonathan’s Aunt Matilda and his nieces and nephews with an airy wave of his hand.
“It will be just a little while,” Jonathan begged. “Just wait for me, please.”
“For how long? Days, weeks, months, years even? I cannot delay my life and plans forever at your leisure.” With that, Sebastian turned on his heel, departing to yet another soiree without a goodbye.
Looking back,