8. Meeting

An instant later, Hannibal felt the press of a palm against his chest.

‘What do you think you are doing?’

Immediately, his hands fell away and he pulled back to look into Will’s eyes.

‘Forgetting myself?’ He smiled ruefully.

‘So it would seem.’

There was reproval in that haughty stare; and had Will exerted even the slightest additional pressure, Hannibal would have backed instantly away. But there was something else there too. Curiosity. And perhaps...

‘Shall I tell you why?’ His voice dropped.

‘If you like.’

Ah, there . Beneath the smart snap of words lingered a trace of haunting wistfulness. Hannibal brought a hand up to cup Will’s jaw; and when he encountered no resistance, he brushed his thumb across the boy’s full lower lip.

‘I think often of that night and of what might have happened had not Mason interrupted.’

‘And had you returned.’

A note of hardness had crept into Will’s voice. Hannibal nodded, eyes sombre.

‘And had I returned.’ Back and forth he rubbed, lightly, an almost fleeting touch. ‘Tell me that you have not thought of it too. Tell me, and I will leave you.’

‘I cannot tell you that.’

A surge of triumph was checked by Will’s next words, spoken just as softly yet with steel beneath.  

‘It does not, however, alter what I said.’

‘I understand.’

‘And?’

Slowly, Hannibal dipped his head until their lips were almost touching.

‘And still I should like very much to kiss you. I have wanted for a long time to kiss you. But I shall not kiss you if you do not truly wish it too.’

Will’s gaze held his as the seconds ticked by, and Hannibal found that he was holding his breath.

‘I meant it, Hannibal. I am not a plaything, to be picked up and discarded upon a whim.’

‘Would you believe me if I told you that never once have I considered you as such?’

Uncertainty flickered in the blue eyes that regarded him. ‘Truthfully? I do not know.’

Feeling for once in his life at something of a loss, Hannibal began to withdraw; but to his surprise he found himself held in place by fingers curling into the front of his coat.’

‘But perhaps I should allow you the opportunity to prove it.’

Hannibal needed no further urging to close the distance between them entirely. The first press of his lips to Will’s drew from him a groan. Such ripe softness, untutored and eager. Will made a small noise of encouragement; and emboldened, Hannibal pushed him back against the broad trunk of the evergreen, hands reaching to clasp his slender waist.

Their mouths moved together, Hannibal's tongue stroking tentatively at the seam of Will’s lips, encouraging them to part. And what pleasure then as Hannibal took his mouth, losing himself in a slow exploration of moist heat and decadent sweetness.

A deep thrill shuddered through Will. This was all entirely new and, in a curious way, felt almost illicit. Will Graham, chasing pleasure without a care for propriety or ethical considerations . Determined to ignore the voice of caution in his head, he slid his hands into the Alpha's hair, threading his fingers through strands of silk, pulling him closer. Unsure of what to do, he followed Hannibal's lead, shutting down thought and doubt and why . Now was not the time for questions. Inevitably, they would come. But for now it was enough to feel and want and have .

His cheeks grew hotter as Hannibal continued to plunder his mouth; and driven by instinct he began to match him, thrust for delicious thrust, taking and taking with fierce greed. A growing ache throbbed between his legs, and unnerved by his body's powerful response, Will broke the kiss. Hannibal appeared no less affected, eyes almost black as they looked searchingly into his. To Will's mingled relief and regret, he released him then and stepped away. But disappointment ran swift and cold through Will’s heated blood when he saw that Hannibal was scanning the area.

'Do not worry,' he said flatly. 'It is my understanding that the family seldom come out this far. I am sure that no one saw us.'

'You are probably correct, but as it happens I was just recalling the last time I was here.' Hannibal's voice was perfectly even, but Will detected a trace of reproach, and he felt his cheeks grow warm once more. 'This has long been my favourite part of the estate.'

Mollified and a little chastened, Will moved to stand beside him. ‘I too much prefer it to any other.’

‘You enjoy the solitude.’

‘And the wildness.’ Will smiled. ‘I think perhaps you are beginning to know me, Mr Lecter.’

Pale sunlight mottled the glassy surface of the lake, which was ringed by smudges of daffodils. Overhead, a symphony of birdsong blended with the occasional chatter of squirrels and drumming of woodpeckers.

‘It is certainly beautiful here.’ Shading his eyes, Will pointed to a conical wooden shelter perched high above the grotto. 'That structure must offer splendid views of the grove.’

'It does. And it also offers a degree of privacy.' Covetous eyes stroked across his face, and Hannibal's voice was a caress as he asked, 'Would you care to see for yourself?'

Will licked his lips. He could still taste Hannibal; could still feel the imprint of his hands, firm and sure, on his waist. Despite all that stood between them, the temptation to succumb was strong. He took a step forward.

‘I –’

'Good lord, Hannibal. Just how large is this benighted garden? I swear I have gone around in circles this past half hour at least!’

Startled, Will retreated a few steps as a red-coated officer with wavy brown hair and a cheerful, if slightly harassed expression came striding up one of the winding paths towards them.

'I thought that you craved fresh country air, Anthony. Do not tell me that you have tired of the novelty already.’ Hannibal turned amused eyes on Will. 'Mr Graham, allow me to introduce my cousin, Colonel Dimmond.'

Here again Will found himself in the presence of an Alpha, though the colonel's scent – an intriguing blend of spices – was far less pungent than that of Lady Bedelia. Relaxing, he offered a hesitant smile.

'I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Colonel.'

'And I yours, Mr Graham.'

Colonel Dimmond's handshake lingered long enough to summon a faint frown from Hannibal. But if the officer noticed, he gave no sign.

'I come bearing a missive from our aunt. She wishes us first to join her for tea and thereafter to pay a call on the Franklyns. I believe that you are staying with them, Mr Graham.'

‘I am.’

‘Well, how wonderful.’

The colonel smiled charmingly, and again Hannibal's brows drew together.

'Is there a problem, Hannibal?’

Although Colonel Dimmond asked the question with an air of complete innocence, Will fancied that he detected a mischievous twinkle in the officer's blue eyes.

Perhaps their kiss had not gone unnoticed after all.

'Not at all.' Hannibal's tight smile belied his words, but his eyes sought Will's with nothing but warmth. 'Mr Graham, if you will excuse us?'

'Yes, of course. I shall return to Fogmear directly and inform Mr and Mrs Franklyn of your intention to call on them.'

'And on you.' Hannibal's voice was soft.

Their eyes held for a moment, and Will felt a peculiar tightness in his chest. The feeling only increased as he watched the two gentlemen walk away, and once they had passed out of sight he did not linger in the grove.

***

The sole consolation of having to endure sixty-eight minutes of Mr Franklyn's verbose ramblings was that Hannibal could sit and admire Will without interruption. To his annoyance, Anthony had upon their arrival sought a chair as close to Will's as possible. But judging by the number of glances Will was darting his way while apparently listening to Anthony, Hannibal was reassured that he had not been supplanted in the Omega's... Interest? Affections?

He hardly knew what to call it, any more than he knew how to categorise his own feelings. He knew only that it was becoming more and more difficult to ignore them.

Will laughed at something Anthony had said, and the low husky chuckle reverberated through Hannibal like the sweetest music. Compelled finally to move, he left his seat and crossed the room, gratified to witness the blush that graced Will's cheeks upon his approach.

Hands clasped behind his back, he bowed. 'I hope that your family are in good health.'

'Why yes, thank you.' Will's eyes were soft yet filled with apprehension, the reason for which became swiftly apparent. 'My elder sister has been in London these three months. Have you never happened to see her?'

'I have not had that pleasure.'

Hannibal felt the curtness of his reply and regretted it immediately, but the lie – albeit by omission – did not sit well with him. He noted Anthony's look of surprise and wished, not for the first time, that he had been honest at least with his cousin. Anthony knew but part of the story.

'I see.'

Will's disappointment was palpable. Discomfited, Hannibal merely nodded before returning to his seat. The remainder of the visit was mercifully short, and he spent it in silent contemplation of the complicated turn his life had taken.

***

Will stood before the bedchamber looking-glass, twisting this way and that, appraising his appearance with a critical eye. His favourite brown coat, cut high above the waist at the front and falling in two sharp tails at the back, certainly flattered his shape, but close inspection revealed slightly worn cuffs and a scuff or two. Lady Bedelia would not approve. But then he had not chosen the outfit with her in mind.

‘You look handsome, Will.’

Beverly wandered into the room, pulling on long white gloves which complemented her evening gown of pale blue. Will turned hastily, blushing to have been caught admiring himself.

‘Thank you. And in return I will say that your gown becomes you very much.’

‘You are too kind.’ She glanced at him pensively. ‘Mr Lecter was rather short with you this morning.’

Will turned back to the mirror. ‘Was he?’

‘I thought so.’

Shrugging, Will adjusted his cuffs. ‘I do not think that he is entirely comfortable out in society. I was not affronted.’

The public and the private Hannibal were, he was beginning to realise, very different creatures. And despite the Alpha’s abruptness, he had felt Hannibal’s gaze lingering on him throughout the visit. It had reassured him that, whatever else Hannibal’s feelings had been, regret for the intimacy they had shared was not among them.

‘Curious that Mr Lecter did not know of Alana's call on the Vergers.’

Will laughed shortly. ‘Hardly. Doubtless Mrs Cordell and her brother sought to conceal the knowledge of Alana's presence in London.’

Never had he felt more contemptuous of the pair. But he had the strangest feeling that for some reason Beverly was not altogether satisfied with his reasoning. And a nameless fear, buried deep, surfaced momentarily before he pushed it firmly back down.

***

And so it was with perfect equanimity that, an hour later, he took his seat beside Hannibal in the drawing room at Fell Park. A newly commissioned portrait of Lady Bedelia had been hung over the fireplace, causing much excitement in certain quarters. The lady herself was currently employed in directing Mr Franklyn’s raptures with such skill that Will could only listen in amusement.

‘Good evening, Will.’

A simple greeting, yet issued in tones that made it sound positively indecent. Will‘s instinct was to reply in kind. An imp of mischief, however, kept his countenance turned resolutely towards the rest of the party as he spoke instead in a steady voice which belied the quickening of his heartbeat.

‘Good evening, Mr Lecter.’

‘Please, call me Hannibal.’

He felt the warmth of amber eyes on his skin.

'You are staring, Hannibal .’

'Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.'

Now he did turn, eyebrows raised. ‘Do you cast yourself as Mercutio? But he was a rebel. Are you a rebel, Hannibal?’

The Alpha’s lips quirked upwards. ‘I think you will find that I am a great many things, as are we all.’

‘Appearances notwithstanding?’

‘Of course.’ Hannibal leaned a little closer, voice dipping. ‘It is possible to look without seeing, Will. When you look at me, I would very much like you to see .’

Will felt again the helpless pull that defied everything - pride, circumstance, even the accusations levelled by Matthew Brown.

‘I could say the same,’ he replied softly.

‘A pact, then? To keep the word of promise to our ear and to our hope.’

‘Now you are Macbeth?’

‘A role for which you doubtless think me far better suited.’

Hannibal grinned and Will’s breath caught.

‘What is it you are talking of, Hannibal?’ Shrill and petulant, Lady Bedelia’s voice cut through the intimacy of the moment. ‘What are you telling Mr Graham? I must have my share in the conversation.’

Will caught a flash of annoyance in Hannibal’s eyes, but with a blink it was gone, and his reply was perfectly equable.

‘We are speaking of books, Madam. Specifically, Shakespeare.’

‘Oh.’ A delicately wrinkled nose indicated Lady Bedelia’s disinterest as she took her seat, the others following suit. ‘I have little interest in a book. Reading is a most antisocial pursuit and I do not encourage it. Now music, on the other hand. There are few people in England who have more true enjoyment of music than myself. How does Mischa get on?’

‘Very well. Her mastery of the pianoforte is a testament to her long hours of practise, though she is particularly fond of the harpsichord.’ Pride radiated from every syllable.

Mischa Lecter was a fortunate girl indeed, thought Will with a slight pang. Whether truly a rival for Miss Verger’s attentions or not, she sounded like a most interesting person, and he found himself wishing to learn more of her. It was, of course, unlikely that they would ever meet, but the affection which she appeared to inspire in everyone who spoke of her was intriguing. Who was this paragon?

‘Such a dear girl. Of course, Francis too would have been a great proficient, had his health allowed him to practise.’

All eyes immediately turned to the surly Beta, who twitched, coloured and clutched fiercely at what looked to Will suspiciously like a book.

Do you play, Mr Graham?’

My turn in the line of fire.

‘A little.’

‘And sing?’

‘Not if I am given a choice.’

Will’s nonchalance in the face of Lady Bedelia’s imperious questioning drew a chuckle from Hannibal which he smothered quickly with a cough.

‘Perhaps, Will, you would favour us with a recital,’ suggested Anthony with a wink.

Will glowered but, to his credit, offered no protest. Almost the instant he was seated at the pianoforte, however, he was eclipsed by Lady Bedelia, who began talking loudly of generalities to the remainder of the party.

Anthony, staring dreamily across at Will, half-rose from his seat.

No, cousin, I think not.

Swiftly, Hannibal vacated his own chair, and in another instant had stationed himself by the pianoforte, effectively blocking Anthony’s view. Will’s reaction was a bemused smile, though he continued to play.

‘Do you mean to frighten me, Ha– Mr Lecter, by coming in all this state to hear me? It will not work, you know. I am far too stubborn to succumb to wearisome Omegan stereotypes of fragility.’

The faux pas had been swiftly covered, but Hannibal felt the intimacy of it with warm satisfaction.

‘Be assured that the last thing I see you as is fragile , Mr Graham.’

‘Oh? How do you see me?’ Will’s tone was threaded with amusement, though his eyes remained fixed on the sheet music.

Stubborn, irreverent, fascinating, irresistible...

‘Inconvenient.’

The word slipped from his lips in a low growl intended for Will’s ears alone. Will’s playing faltered and his eyes flicked up to Hannibal’s.

’In what way?’

The softly uttered response drew Hannibal closer.

‘Surely that was made clear to you this morning. You are quite appallingly distracting.’

‘Oh, I see.’

The flare of relief in Will’s eyes was puzzling, until with a jolt Hannibal realised how his comment could have been misconstrued.

This is your fault. He doubts himself because of you.

His gaze lingered on Will’s heated cheeks, and he wished that he could reach out and touch. But muffled footsteps heralded Anthony’s approach, and on a long exhale he broke eye contact and stepped back. Will, after a pause, resumed his recitation.

‘Whatever are the pair of you whispering about?’ Anthony glanced knowingly between them and twitched a quizzical brow. ‘I must say, you look rather – preoccupied. Should I go away again?’

‘Do not be ridiculous,’ snapped Hannibal. ‘You are embarrassing our aunt’s guest.’

‘So solicitous, Hannibal! I am seeing you in an entirely new light.’ Anthony turned to Will, whose flushed countenance belied his outward tranquility. ‘Tell me, Mr Graham, was he this – attentive – in Hertfordshire?’

‘ Anthony !’

Hannibal shot his vexatious cousin a thunderous glare and immediately Anthony raised a hand in apology, though his eyes still sparked with merriment.

‘Most assuredly not.’ Will leaned across the keys and addressed Anthony in a mock whisper. ‘The first time I met your cousin was at a dance, whereupon I was summarily and ruthlessly dismissed as a most unworthy partner.’

‘How shocking!’ Anthony wiggled lascivious brows at the Omega. ‘You would not have found me so short-sighted.’

‘Perhaps it is I who should go away.’

Teeth snapping together in irritation, Hannibal found himself stayed by fingers which, out of Anthony’s line of vision, curled around his hand and squeezed gently.

‘That will not be necessary,’ replied Will, blue eyes teasing. ‘I believe I am beginning to understand you better now.’

‘Beginning to?’ Softening despite himself, Hannibal gave an answering squeeze.

‘Oh, the process is ongoing.’

‘Hannibal, Anthony, leave Mr Graham be. He is clearly in need of a great deal of practise, and the two of you are nothing but a hindrance.’

As Lady Bedelia stalked towards them, Anthony gave a snort of laughter, and reluctantly Hannibal withdrew his hand.

‘Our apologies, Mr Graham. Please, allow me to assist.’

Leaning across to turn the page of sheet music, he caught a delicious waft of pine scent and was disconcerted by the urge to nuzzle into the Omega’s curls.

‘Perhaps we might continue this conversation at another time,’ he murmured.

Will turned his head, bringing their faces so close that Hannibal felt the warmth of the boy’s breath in his soft reply.

‘I would like that.’

***

Sitting at Beverly’s desk the following morning, Will was startled by the sharp rap of the knocker against the front door. Immediately his fingers tightened around his pen, but he forced himself to remain seated. It could just as easily be an enquiring neighbour as...

‘Mr Lecter.’

The morning room seemed to shrink to minuscule proportions as Hannibal strode through the open doorway, the flustered housemaid’s announcement almost comically redundant.

‘Thank you, Georgia.’ Will dropped his pen but remained rooted to his seat, eyes drawn irresistibly to Hannibal.

Bobbing an awkward curtsy, the housemaid pulled the door closed as she withdrew, leaving Will and Hannibal staring at one another.

‘I am sorry to disturb you,’ Hannibal said, looking anything but. He removed his hat and held it before him as he glanced around. ‘Are the family from home?’

‘They are all gone into the village. Brian wished to post a letter to his father.’ Nerves thrumming, Will indicated a nearby chair. ‘Will not you sit down?’

After a moment’s pause Hannibal did so, amber gaze lighting on the paper at Will’s elbow. ‘I see that you are mid-correspondence.’

‘I am writing to Alana. She is staying with our uncle and aunt.’

‘Yes, I know.’

Will’s brows drew together. He did not recall having told Hannibal where Alana was staying. Perhaps Hannibal meant that he had guessed. Perhaps it was a natural assumption. Or perhaps, he thought despairingly,  it was no longer possible for him to recall anything with perfect clarity when he was in the presence of this impossible Alpha. In the close confines of the morning room, Hannibal’s scent invaded Will’s senses, curling around him and fogging his thoughts. Just as it had done the previous evening. And through all the long hours of night, when feverish anticipation had put paid to any notions of sleep. As silence fell between them, his cheeks grew ever hotter beneath Hannibal’s scrutiny, and he racked his brain for something sensible to say.

‘How is everyone at the house? Mr Franklyn was most concerned to hear this morning that Mr du Maurier has a chill.’

Hannibal looked momentarily exasperated. ‘There is nothing amiss with Francis that a dose of fresh air and a good breakfast would not cure. The boy is ridiculously coddled.’

The temptation to question Hannibal over his supposed engagement to said coddled boy was strong, but Will felt the impertinence of it and did not dare. A few kisses did not grant him the right to an interrogation.

Silence descended once again. Hannibal looked uncomfortable, long fingers playing with the rim of his hat, back ramrod straight.

Will cleared his throat. ‘Where is Ripper? I expected to see him at the house last night.’

‘He is in London. My aunt has no great fondness for animals.’

Nor people , Will thought. But that he kept to himself.

‘Would –‘

‘I –‘

Will found his own hesitant smile mirrored by Hannibal’s.

‘Please, go on.’

‘I was just thinking of the last time we were all together, and how long ago it seems.’

‘Yes,’ replied Hannibal, eyes darkening with an emotion Will could not identify.

‘And I was thinking of how suddenly you all quitted Hertfordshire. No doubt you were anxious to be reunited with your sister. The Vergers too. They were all well, I hope, when you left London?’

‘Perfectly so, I thank you.’

Will frowned. Surely it could not have escaped Hannibal’s notice that Alana and Miss Verger had formed a strong attachment in Hertfordshire, yet he seemed determined to avoid conversing on any subject even remotely related.

‘I had heard that the Vergers have little intention of ever returning to Muskrat Hall,’ he pressed, provoked to indiscretion. ‘In which case, it might be better for the neighbourhood if they were to give up the place entirely.’

‘I should not be surprised if they do.’ Hannibal cleared his throat. ‘How is Mrs Franklyn settling in?’

Hardly the most subtle of subject changes, but Will ceded with as much grace as he could muster. Alana, he knew, would not thank him for his interference.

‘She seems perfectly happy.’

Hannibal placed his hat on the nearby table and leaned forward in his chair, fingers linked loosely between his knees, eyes once again intent on Will.

‘Your tone indicates some doubt on your part.’

‘Not doubt exactly. But I wonder whether she will one day regret having settled for a life with one who is not her intellectual equal.’

Sculpted lips pursed as Hannibal regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I would have considered the match prudential for them both. Mr Franklyn has gained a sensible, capable spouse, and Mrs Franklyn has now a household of her own and lifelong security.’

‘Oh, yes,’ scoffed Will. ‘When seen in a prudential light, it is certainly a good match. An arrangement founded on self-interest and convenience.’

‘I take it you do not approve of such matches. Tell me, Will, how many marriages do you imagine are not founded on self-interest?’

Having no ready retort, Will took a different tack. ‘But then there is the matter of family. Fifty miles now separate Beverly from her kin. They will be lucky to see each other even once in a twelvemonth.’

Drawing his chair a little nearer, Hannibal asked with strange intensity, ‘You consider it a necessity to live within easy distance of family? I cannot imagine that you would wish to be always in Hertfordshire.’

At a loss, Will shook his head slowly. ‘Why no, but –‘

‘Will, must we continue to pretend?’ Shifting even closer, voice now a seductive purr that Will felt down to his toes, Hannibal reached out and clasped Will’s hand.

‘Pretend what?’ Embarrassed by the tremor in his voice, Will dropped his gaze to the long fingers imprisoning his own.

‘That my reason for this visit is to discuss my cousin or the Vergers or the Franklyns.’

‘Very well.’ Speaking almost in a whisper, Will pressed his palm to Hannibal’s and slotted their fingers together. How perfectly they fitted, and how natural it felt to touch the Alpha in such an intimate way. ‘Then I take it you wish to continue our - conversation - from last night.’

‘Not only last night.’

Sunlight glittering off the lake, Hannibal’s hands, Hannibal’s mouth, and a first kiss.

Will shivered, eyes fixed on their joined hands. ‘You have been thinking of it too?’

‘I have thought of little else.’

Somehow, Will realised, they had drawn closer and closer, until their foreheads were almost touching. He closed his eyes.

‘Sir, I –‘

‘Hannibal,’ came the husky correction.

Will opened his eyes.

‘Hannibal.’

Free hand curling around the Alpha’s smooth jaw, Will nudged forward and brushed their lips together. Hannibal made a small sound of pleasure, so he did it again. And again. With each pass he pressed more firmly, lingered longer. Then an experimental sweep of his tongue drew sighs from them both, and Will tugged his other hand free to frame Hannibal’s face.

‘Open your mouth.’

‘Will.’

‘Now, please.’

Will tilted his head and feathered kisses across Hannibal’s parted lips, teasing and delighting in the Alpha’s resultant growls. He dipped the tip of his tongue inside, encountering delicious warmth and sweetness. Their first kiss had been about discovery. But this - this was about growing intimacy.

'Hannibal,’ he murmured between exploratory licks. ‘Hannibal.’

'Will.’

The sound of his name groaned with such abandon sparked a frantic need. Will pressed into the kiss, deepening it, moaning in encouragement as Hannibal curled his hands around the lapels of Will’s coat and pulled him closer.

Exchanging kisses of increasing desperation, they were almost in each other’s laps when sounds of laughter and talking in the outer hall alerted them to the fact that they were about to receive company.

Will closed his eyes in delight as Hannibal nuzzled his cheek before pulling away with gratifying reluctance. He stood then, and tugged Will up with him.

‘What have you done to me?’

But Will had no chance to respond beyond a flustered grin as the door opened to admit Beverly and Brian. They looked astonished to see Hannibal, though Beverly recovered more quickly than Brian, who stood with mouth agape in the doorway.

‘Mr Lecter, what a pleasant surprise.’ Beverly was all graciousness.

‘Mrs Franklyn, Mr Price.’ Hannibal bowed, quickly assuming his usual air of insouciance. ‘I thought to call on you all this morning, but found Mr Graham here all alone.’

‘Mr Lecter has been good enough to keep me company,’ supplied Will, retrieving Hannibal’s hat and passing it to him with a mischievous glance.

‘I see.’ Beverly’s tone indicated that she saw rather more than Will was comfortable with. ‘Would you care for some refreshment, Mr Lecter? I imagine that Will has been neglectful on that count.’

‘I thank you, no. I must be leaving. But I hope that we shall meet again soon.’

On that final word he looked directly at Will, eyes filled with a fire that Will was ill-equipped to deal with in company.

‘I too,’ he managed huskily, and with a final brief smile Hannibal was gone.

‘Bother,’ huffed Brian. ‘I had hoped for an invitation to Fell Park this afternoon. Lady Bedelia has a damn fine billiards table and there is naught to do here but read!’

‘Never fear, little brother,’ said Beverly with a sly wink at Will. ‘I have no doubt that an invitation will be swiftly forthcoming.’

‘Not swiftly enough,’ he continued to grumble, staring out of the window despondently. ‘And it begins to rain! There is nothing for it now but Solitaire.’ And he stumped off in high dudgeon.

‘What can be the meaning of this?’ teased Beverly, as soon as she and Will were alone. ‘Mr Lecter, calling on us in such a familiar way? My dear Will, he must be in love with you.’

What confusion of feelings rioted through Will at this suggestion. Crossing to the window, he ran trembling hands through his hair. ‘That is ridiculous, Beverly. Hannibal Lecter would no more allow himself to fall in love with me than he would consider giving up his inheritance to keep a shop. Both ideas would be equally ludicrous to him.’

‘Because of the circumstances of your birth?’ Beverly looked decidedly put out. ‘Is he really so shallow?’

‘I cannot say with any certainty that I know what Hannibal Lecter is. I have, I think, been permitted glimpses of his true self, but he wears his social disguise like a well-stitched coat.’

He felt a comforting hand on his back. ‘He was not disguising his interest in you just now, Will. Nor, may I say, last night. You were right about him - he is not at ease in general company. But when he was watching you play -’

‘Interest does not equate to love.’ Sighing, Will leaned into his friend’s touch. ‘And even if it did, there are other considerations besides my dubious heritage which would not be easy to overcome.’

‘The question is,’ said Beverly gently, ‘would you wish to try?’

‘Perhaps I might.’ Will shook his head. ‘But I do not know that he would.’

There was nothing left for Will to do except retire to his room for a period of silent contemplation. Never had he wished more fervently that Matthew Brown had chosen someone else to be his confidant. Alana’s plight he could well believe to have been brought about by the machinations of Mr Verger and Mrs Cordell. Yet what possible reason could Mr Brown have had to fabricate such a terrible story of betrayal as he had recounted to Will, when he had declared his intention never to publicise it in deference to the memory of Hannibal’s father?

Who are you, Hannibal? Puppet master or loyal friend? Devoted brother or clever tyrant? And what does it say of me that I want you despite not knowing the answers?

What was it Hannibal had said? ‘When you look at me, I would very much like you to see.’

Will could only hope that when the time came, and the last remnants of Hannibal’s disguise fell away, he would be able to accept all that he saw.