Chapter Text
Captain Vanth made sure the young groom was aware of the foibles of his skittish mare before handing the reins over and heading towards the door, regarding the groups of redcoats with apprehension.
He disliked social events of any kind but as a retired captain of infantry and justice of the peace he couldn’t really avoid the dinner to welcome the militia into the county.
‘Surely that cannot be my neighbour Mr Vanth who shuns all society.’ The booming voice was followed with a heavy hand on his back, and he turned to greet his his nearest neighbour.
‘I must support the old regiment.’ Vanth said, shaking his hand. Sir Fett was another retired army man, robust and energetic for his years.
‘I forget how many of us old soldiers there are in the county. Have these youngsters ever drawn a sword in battle I wonder?’
‘I pray they never have to.’ Vanth countered.
‘Too true sir.’ Fett replied sombre for a second. ‘Still, nothing like youthful enthusiasm. If only it could be paired with the wisdom of experience.’
‘We may toast to that.’ Vanth said, steeling himself to greet the senior officers who stood at the doorway to welcome their guests.
Fett would enjoy this. The conviviality of young people, of the officer's mess. During the regiment’s time here, he would host balls, picnics and suppers, much enhancing local society by allowing the officers to mix with the young ladies.
For Vanth on the other hand, this was a rarity. He preferred his own company and could happily spend his days overseeing his home farm throwing himself into his Justice of the Peace role, fishing if time and weather allowed. He therefore found the room full of rough male laughter jarring. Found himself actively slowing down the sips from the glass of claret he had taken from a passing tray.
The redcoats would soon decorate the drawing rooms of anyone who cared to throw a party. Perhaps it would divert attention from the perennial local discussion about why Vanth himself did not marry.
‘You will come to my ball of course. ‘ Fett said, nodding at various acquaintances across the room. ‘Don’t sigh, you know Fenny will only bully you into it anyway.’
‘I’m sure Mrs Shand will be disappointed to be excluded this evening.’
‘I am her eyes and ears, she will receive a full report.’ Fett smiled.
Mrs Fennec Shand was a wealthy widow whose property bordered Fetts. She had lost her husband, a navy man, years before but took an energetic interest in all local affairs civic, business and personal. A new crop of redcoats to be matched with local young ladies would be a project for her.
Dinner was called and they made their way into the dining room. Vanth had feared being caught between two bores or worse, feel a bore himself between two more sociable men, but the conversation flowed more easily than he expected.
The young officers who were either side of him were serious and thoughtful, with an anxiety about their chosen profession that Vanth found strangely reassuring.
One hid well his disappointment when he discovered Vanth had no marriageable daughters. The other listened to Vanth attentively and spoke of his training and his family. As the evening began to fog with wine and the lateness of the hour he let his expression slip just enough for Vanth to see his interest.
Vanth couldn’t have said he wasn’t tempted but knew it wasn’t worth it. To go through the risk of a liason, especially here, with a soldier, for so brief a reward, only to be alone again afterwards.
As the table broke up Vanth took the opportunity to slip away. There would be cards and drinking neither of which appealed though he knew Fett would stay as late as men twenty years younger.
Vanth slipped outside unnoticed and asked the groom for his horse to be brought. The air had the tantalising grassy tang of early spring, and he wondered if tomorrow may be the day to check on his more distant tenants.
When the horse was brought round, he reached for the stirrup only to realise it was not his. He told the groom, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. It was an easy mistake, in the dark, with unfamiliar horses.
‘You may leave her, she’s mine.’ A deep voice came out of the shadowed doorway and Vanth turned towards it. ‘A fine looking animal.’ He said with a nod to the man behind him.
‘Thank you, I know little of horses.’ Came the reply, sounding surprised at the compliment. Vanth had suspected as much. Thought the horse was fine its tack was not at all what Vanth would have chosen himself for country riding. He stepped aside to allow the man to mount. He was Vanth’s height and dressed in good but sober new clothes. His face half hidden in the gloom meant Vanth only really caught an impression of brown eyes and jawline. Immediately though there was something in the breadth of his shoulders, the quality of the voice, that tugged at Vanth’s gut.
The man looked down at him. ‘I’m sorry ,if we were introduced…’
‘No I…’ Vanth realised he’d been staring. ‘ No- Cobb Vanth, pleased to meet you Sir.’ He lifted his hand. The gloved handshake was firm but brief. The burst of body heat doing nothing for the swooping feeling in his stomach.
‘Din Djarin. I think we had the same notion, leaving early. I confess, a night of cards and wine holds less appeal than it once did.’ Djarin lowered his voice slightly. ‘Truth be told I would rather be at home abed at this hour.’
‘As would I.’ Vanth was grateful for the dark to hide his blushes.