Speak Its Name: A Trilogy by Lee Rowan, Charlie Cochrane, Erastes Page A

Jack was neither going to let him in nor respond to his gibe. “I’ll return at seven—and you’d better drop those airs, if you know what’s good for you.”
    “As I told you once before, sir, I answer to Lord Robert, not to you. You may discuss my behaviour with his lordship at any time you choose.”
    For a moment Jack thought—hoped—that McDonald might be about to strike him, but he was cheated of the opportunity to defend himself when the other man whirled and stormed off down the corridor. Jack waited for several minutes to be sure McDonald was well and truly gone before returning to his compartment. So that was the familiar face that his lordship had hinted they might see. Damn. So many good men they’d known, and it had to be that arrogant bastard.
    Jack found his watch where he’d left it, and by the light of a match he saw that it was twenty minutes shy of four in the morning. He might yet salvage a couple of hours’ rest; best to get back under the covers before a brass band and a troupe of acrobats paraded down the corridor. Snug in his blankets, he ordered himself to go to sleep and not think about this new turn of events.
    Easier said than done. He could remember the first encounter with McDonald as though it were yesterday. The regiment had been stationed in India at an established outpost, which meant actual barracks instead of tents, cisterns that held rainwater, some rudiments of civilization. If one took care to avoid the cobras and nastier vermin, one could achieve a minimal degree of comfort.
    Then Captain Cecil McDonald had ridden through on his way to a new posting. Major Scoville had greeted him in a friendly manner—a very friendly manner—and told Darling to put McDonald in the room beside his own, after he got him a bath and saw to his comfort.
    McDonald jumped to a conclusion that took far too much for granted. “Darling, is it?” he said as he followed the sergeant into his quarters, then laughed in a way that made Jack want to knock him flat. “Well, then, Darling, I could use a bit of comfort—” He began to undo his uniform trousers, and Darling stepped back.
    “Captain, I fear you have come to an erroneous conclusion.” He slapped the tin washbasin down on the rattan table and placed the heavy pitcher of water beside it. “Here is your washwater; I will see to it that food is brought to you.”
    McDonald grinned and tilted his head. It was clear that he thought himself irresistibly charming. “Come, now, Darling—what a perfect name!—I’ve seen the way you look at him. Surely you don’t expect me to believe it’s all platonic!”
    “What you believe is not my concern,” Jack had shot back, mortified that his feelings were so obvious to this oaf. “I take my orders from Major Scoville, and he has never given me an illegal order. Nor do I expect him to. You are, of course, free to report any dereliction on my part.” He turned on his heel and left, and made arrangements to have McDonald’s meal taken to him by an elderly servant afflicted with broken teeth and boils.
    He’d spent the night wound up in a knot of anxiety, wondering what sort of report Major Scoville would hear. Should he have put his aversion to one side and acquiesced? A bad report from an officer could ruin a soldier’s career, and he had not served with Major Scoville long enough to guess what his reaction might be to McDonald’s complaint.
    As it turned out, there’d been no reaction at all. Jack had never dared ask whether a complaint had been lodged, and of course he had held his peace regarding McDonald’s imposition. Scoville’s only comment, when his fellow officer left the following morning, had been to the effect that people could change in ways one would never expect. Jack guessed from the customary neatness of Major Scoville’s bed that if McDonald had expected to spend the night there he had been disappointed, which would account for his poisonous attitude at the breakfast