Searching for Him

Chapter 6

I read in Gran’s day books for the year 1910 that she and Lewis had homes in New York, Colorado, and London. She had written me that they were married at a small private ceremony in Colorado last year. Their marriage happened a year after Malcolm, my grandfather, was killed during an incident near Karachi in 1908. According to the newspaper he was being escorted by a British military contingent which was ambushed by bandits. Gran wore the black clothing which was traditional after the death of a spouse but only when she was in Devonshire.

I selected the following entry which sounds like many others reflecting how happy she was being married to a man she obviously loved. The entry contains some important business items that pertain to me.

Friday, September 17, 1910 – It is so nice to be back at Pickwickhurst even though the manor house is in poor repair. Autumn is my favorite time with leaves dropping and their aroma filling the air. The yellow leaves on the ash trees that line the entry drive quivered when we drove in. They were happier to see me than was the staff. Michael wrote that Hilda had retired and Morris had fallen ill so I was greeted by new servants. They were gracious but they didn’t know me. I would have to teach them my preferences.

I am alone because Lewis stayed in London for business meetings. He will arrive next week in time for our entertaining on Friday evening. There is much to do to prepare the servants for forty guests, many of whom I haven’t seen in some years.

Michael was so handsome as he stepped out of his Rolls Royce after pulling into the courtyard earlier. He stood tall and straight smiling his beautiful smile. He has the responsibility for managing Pickwickhurst. When I was in London, I signed all the papers assuring that Michael was the rightful heir since his father died in South Africa, so he could take his place in the House of Lords.

I see Jordan when he is in London. He travels and performs frequently in New York. At almost thirty years old he is strikingly handsome with his light brown hair and pencil moustache. He is always impeccably dressed in clothes from his Saville Row tailors. Several years ago he secured his own flat in the Grosvenor Square area of London which is a more prestigious address than where my flat was located. I rented my flat to a young female friend of Jordan’s. She is tidy and pays her rent on time. I wish I could say the same for the tenant that rented after Jeremy. He informed me he was leaving the foreign service to take an administrative position with the Bank of Bengal in Bombay. I really believed he was returning to find his man servant. I will never know.

Jordan has turned more heads of men and women than anyone I have ever met. I know he has been in more prestigious beds in London than almost anyone. Publicly he is seen with delightful, lovely ladies clutching his arm. But either men or women can be found in his bed. I’m told his bed partners don’t lack money or prestige. His reputation as a raconteur is well known among members of my club. I decided to discuss the matter privately with him. One Sunday evening I invited him to a private dinner in my suite at the Savoy. I did not want it to take place in my new flat in Kensington because I didn’t want my servants talking. As usual Jordan was thirty minutes late. I had to call the kitchen and have them bring fresh, hot soup. Long ago I gave up being frustrated with him. He was who he was and he was my friend.

Finally, Jordan was comfortable drinking martinis so we started with two dry ones with olives. After we finished the martinis we switched to claret which we carried to our appointed table. Our waiter stayed with us through the soup course and then after plating our main course excused himself. He let me know that I should call and he would come and retrieve the dishes. We ate quietly until Jordan, in his normal forthright manner said, “Why the dinner here and not at your new place?”

I started cautiously because I wanted Jordan to be a friend at the end of dinner. I knew I had to do this. I said, “Well, to be honest, I am concerned. I wanted you to know that your bedroom antics are well known in the wide circle of friends you travel with. I know, personally, you love your sex. If you are not totally careful someone is going to alert the police. Probably the authorities already know but won’t do anything until one of your bedmates from the House gets jilted by you.”

“Why do you care?”

“I love you. That’s why I am telling you. I know there are inverts everywhere but you are so well known. Your career could collapse with a scandal.”

“Where are you hearing this about me?”

“Widely at my club. If I hear it there it’s being talked about in other clubs.”

He grew silent. “You know I can’t get enough physical sexual activity. But my career is too important. What do you think I should do?”

I was not prepared for his question but an idea came to me. “You and I should travel soon since we are going to Leif’s wedding in Colorado. We can leave early and spend some time in New York. Hopefully, there is a production there that will hire you, if that is something you want to do.”

“The timing of this conversation is interesting because I told my manager that I would be leaving the current production next week because of the wedding. My leaving should not cause any stir. I didn’t realize what was being said behind my back.”

“Well, now you know. Stay with me at my place this week. We can plan a little going away soiree for our closest friends. Your departure will be another step in your illustrious career.”

“You want me to stay with you so you can watch me, correct?”

“Let’s just say I want to keep you safe. I am concerned, that’s all.”

“OK, when we finish dinner let’s go to my place for the night. We will sleep together like old times. Tomorrow morning I will pack for the trip and go to your place. I have noticed suspicious people lurking around my stoop when I leave lately, and it makes me nervous. Who are we inviting to the soiree next Sunday?”

“I have a few names, but this is mostly about sending you off.”

I took responsibility for arranging for first class suite accommodations on the Mauretania, the fastest ship travelling between Liverpool and New York. I had twenty invitations hand delivered because of the late date. I made sure there was an equal number of men and women even though only a few were couples. They happened to be male couples. I arranged for my favorite caterer from Selfridges to provide hors d’ouvres, waiters and a bartender. It was my intention to keep the party upbeat because I wasn’t sure when Jordan would come back. It was clear from the conversation of those gathered that they thought Jordan would be back in a month or so. That was not my intent, if I could prevent it.

The party was not supposed to be about me but it so happened that The Royal College of Arms emissary delivered the official proclamation about my designation as the Sixth Viscount of Devonshire right before the soiree. I had represented my grandfather as his proctor on many occasions in the House, but now I would have official designation to vote. Jordan proposed a champagne toast to celebrate. Other toasts followed wishing Jordan the best in America. The party didn’t stop that evening because six of our closest mutual friends accompanied us to Liverpool for our departure to the Mauretania.

On our first night in the ship’s first class dining room Jordan was approached by wealthy female fans. They inquired as to what productions he would be joining in New York. He was both gracious and evasive. Not one meal we took in the dining room thereafter went uninterrupted. Following dinner, we usually retired to the men’s smoking lounge. Jordan would often remain after I retired. On several nights he didn’t get back to our suite until the wee hours. I knew mine was not the first bed he had been in that night. Our arrival in New York only permitted two nights at the Pierre. Jordan insisted we see two Victor Herbert musicals that were popular—The Rose of Algeria had opened the previous September and was still playing at the New York Theater. The second afternoon he was able to get us into what he thought was going to be a big success, Naughty Marietta, which was also by Victor Herbert. In the evening we saw a farce written by George M. Cohan which I did not care for.

After a midnight dinner and a few hours of sleep, we were on our way to Newark to find Lewis’s private railcar, which he sent for our use. Our plan was to arrive in Colorado the week prior to Leif’s wedding, which was scheduled so we could attend. We arrived in Denver on October 10 and the wedding was scheduled to take place at Denver’s Brown Palace Hotel on October 21.

When we arrived at the ranch we were met by Gran, Lewis, Leif and his fiancé, May Lou. I could see she was either Asian or Indian but I wasn’t sure. She was delightful, but quiet. Gran was fashionably dressed as a grande dame of the west. I complimented her on her outfit since I had never seen her in anything except Victorian fashions. She smiled and acknowledged my compliment by smoothing her beaded leather skirt. I kissed her on both cheeks politely and she pulled me firmly into her breasts. The next few days we made trips into Denver and Colorado Springs and took a day trip to Manitou Springs.

The third night as Jordan sat in one large overstuffed chair and I sat at my writing table in our bedroom, there was a solid knock at our door. In my dressing gown I rose and moved toward the door which opened before I got there. Leif stood erect and smiled as he started, “I want you to know how happy I am that both of you were able to come to my wedding. It means more than you know.”

Jordan said, “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

“No, but I know how much you think we are a bunch of crude cowboys. I’m happy my faggot brother and his faggot partner came.”

“Just so you know Michael and I aren’t partners. He is my protector, that’s all.” There was laughter all around. Even though I was laughing, I thought how sad I was that Jordan’s statement was true.

Leif continued, “Regardless, I’m so happy both of you are here. I do have one favor to ask and please don’t be offended.”

Jordan snapped, “What is it?”

“At the wedding Saturday and the party afterwards I hope you guys aren’t too chummy. May Lou’s family is very conservative and would forbid our marriage if they thought there were homosexuals in our family. May Lou really likes you. She is as happy as I am that you are here. I want to invite you to ride with us and picnic in the foothills near a little lake which we go to.”

Jordan followed on, “Michael and I know the lake. We picnicked there years ago.” I kept a straight face as I remembered what we did on the blanket that afternoon. “We were planning a picnic ourselves but thought it was probably too cold for swimming.”

“Is tomorrow ok with you two?”

About ten the next morning the horses were ready. May Lou wore pants like the fellows. My facial expression caused Leif to say, “Michael, remember this isn’t England. Women do things differently here.” We mounted and rode up the valley toward our lake. An hour into our ride May Lou pulled up to Leif and they spoke quietly. Leif came back to us, “Boys, May Lou and I need to turn back. She is not feeling well.” I wondered if she might be pregnant, but didn’t say anything to Jordan.

Leif transferred the picnic basket to us assuming we would ride on. After conferring, Jordan and I rode on through the glorious gold of the aspen tree leaves. The lake was covered with golden leaves as we spread out the blanket. As I expected Jordan was naked in a few minutes and he seemed to expect me to do the same. I marveled at his muscled chest still covered by light brown hair. I was a bit ashamed since I had filled out a little too much. He smiled and didn’t say anything since he had seen me naked plenty of times on our trip from England.

I spread out the food which included steak sandwiches, cold potatoes along with cucumber and onion salad. Since the basket was packed for four there was more than enough food. We had two bottles of a California red wine from a vineyard called Inglenook. The wine was labeled with the name of the grape - Cabernet Sauvignon. We had never heard of the wine and I really didn’t know that there were wine grapes growing in California. We marveled at the color and the favor. The wine led to an opening for Jordan. He said, “Michael, you know when you and I went to Denver, you wanted to shop and I said I didn’t want to.” I shook my head. “Well, I had an appointment which Gran arranged.”

“Who did you meet?”

“A well known British actress, Mrs. Patricia Campbell, is staring in a play by George Bernard Shaw at the Empress Theater. She and I have been in several plays together. She was the star and I wasn’t. She is a charming woman and a very good actress. Apparently she and your Gran have been acquaintances for some time. As you know Gran was a great supporter of theater. She secretly encouraged me to pursue my passion even though father objected. Mrs. Pat, that’s what she is known as in the theater world, and I had tea at the Brown Palace. She encouraged me to come to San Francisco and repeat my role as Jack Worthing in Oscar Wilde’s play. They will open at the new Columbia Theater in San Francisco in late November. I told her I would do it.

“That means I’m not going to New York with you. Next week after the wedding, we will travel with her to San Francisco. I asked father if we could take our car to the west coast and he said we could.”

“Won’t that be awkward? Are you sure I should be going?”

“Of course, you should!” I was surprised but pleased that he wanted me to go with them. We sat naked eating our picnic in the warm sunshine on the site of our first real love-making. Jordan said looking at my stiff cock, “Looks like you are ready for something.”

“Sorry, I was thinking back to our first time in this place.”

“I’ll take care of you if you take care of me.”

We lay back and began to play with each other until he put his head on my shoulder. The sweet smell of his cologne and his soft chest hair were erotic. I couldn’t help but think what it would be like to have him as my partner. I savored our few intimate moments before he moved down on my member. He slowly and gently moved up and back. He was mechanical but for me it was magical. Not long after he had my sperm in his mouth. I reciprocated without trouble. It took him a long time to climax. I figured his physical interest in me had waned but he still wanted my friendship. His face returned to my chest and we softly kissed on the lips. Tears came to my eyes. Jordan said, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I am just so happy to be here in our special place one more time.” We stayed for a few more minutes before dressing and riding back to the ranch.

The wedding Saturday was in the ballroom of the Brown Palace in downtown Denver. The location was an accommodation to the large number of family members from May Lou’s family. They were farmers, produce merchants and one of the earliest Chinese families in Colorado. Their ancestors arrived about the time the United States was having its centennial. The men wore a colorful array of changshan but the women were more elegant in their cheongsam. Their clothing was a significant contrast to the western wear of the men and satin gowns of our women. The brief wedding ceremony was performed by a Justice of the Peace before the party began. The lovely bride and handsome groom sat at the front table with their small wedding party which included Jordan as best man. I was seated with Gran, Lewis, Mrs. Pat and a few of Lewis’s English friends. The four piece band played dance music. I asked Lewis if he minded if I danced one dance with Gran. He seemed happy that he didn’t have to dance in front of the gathered audience.

I extended my hand to Gran and she took it with a warm smile across her face. We danced a waltz. I didn’t realize we were the only dancers until the dance was over and the wedding party stood and applauded. As I returned Gran to her seat she squeezed my hand so I knew I had done well. The party got a bit rowdy but by eleven all guests had gone. May Lou and Leif retired to their bridal suite. My room had a canopy over the bed. The bed covers were turned down and a small electric light illuminated the space. As I undressed I thought of my time with Jordan. As I stood naked about to get in bed there was a knock at the door. I knew it was Jordan so I didn’t bother to grab my dressing gown. As I opened the door he stood there smiling. He reached out his hand and led me to the bed. He dropped his dressing gown and we lay together skin to skin. It was a perfect way to end the magical day.

After breakfast the following morning Leif and May Lou left for a short wedding trip to the luxurious Stanley Hotel in Estes Park which had been designated by President Roosevelt to become a national park. They told us their real wedding trip would be to San Francisco when Jordan and Mrs. Pat were performing. Our private rail car was attached to the newly inaugurated Denver & Rio Grande service through the majestic Rocky Mountains. It was a slow climb but the scenery was accented by mountain sheep and deer along our route through the snow capped mountains. In Salt Lake City we attached to the Pacific Railroad for the final portion of our journey. Mrs. Pat took Gran and Lewis’s room and Jordan and I took the other room. Mrs. Pat must have known Jordan’s reputation and didn’t seem to care if we were more than friends. She was from the theater.

As we departed the main train station in San Francisco for the Fairmount Hotel there was plenty of evidence of the earthquake four years previously. But there was also evidence of massive building projects underway.

As our carriage made its way along Market Street we passed by the new Columbia Theater where Mrs. Pat and Jordan would be performing. The structure was magnificent and appeared recently completed. The marquee announced various Vaudeville performances. When we arrived at the hotel we were greeted, rather Mrs. Pat was greeted by the hotel manager and the manager of the Columbia. I felt like Jordan and I were page boys. Even though Jordan and I shared a room, I rarely saw him because he left early for rehearsals and arrived late in the evening after Mrs. Pat and the cast dined. He told me he was warmly greeted by the members of the cast. I roamed around the city and rode the recently restored cable cars that traversed the hills.

After a week I was getting bored so I started contemplating what to do. Uncharacteristically, one afternoon Jordan asked me to join him for tea. Mrs. Pat, along with elegant ladies from prominent families were already gathered when I arrived. Jordan introduced me as his friend from England. I sat between two older women who were quite hard of hearing. The reason for the tea became clear when one tall, well dressed woman spoke, “I am so pleased you could join us this afternoon. As many of you know Mrs. Campbell, Mr. Brown and our own Mr. Rathborne will be staring in The Importance of Being Earnest at the Columbia next month. I propose that opening night be a charity performance to benefit our newly established children’s hospital.” The conversation continued regarding details and committees. Jordan and I sat quietly. I had already decided that I would be on my way immediately after the opening. I just hadn’t decided exactly when.

Later that night as Jordan and I lay in bed he said, “Michael, I hope you stay for the opening. I want you to see my ‘Worthing’. He is coming along quite well. Also, plan tomorrow to have dinner with me and a woman I want you to meet.”

“Who might that be?”

“She is the daughter of Mrs. Stanford who organized the tea this afternoon. Her name is Heloise. She is charming and I know you will like her.”

“Don’t you have rehearsals tomorrow?”

“Yes, there are rehearsals but I am not in the scenes they are rehearsing. I do have to go in for a fitting with the wardrobe mistress. That will be completed by tea time. Meet us in the lobby at six.”

I was committed to stay in San Francisco which Jordan implored me to do. There were several weeks before the opening so I decided to travel to the Napa Valley where the wine that Jordan and I enjoyed came from. I would then travel onto the Yosemite Valley. I rode the new cable car along Powell Street and decided to get off in front of the St. Francis Hotel for a cocktail before returning to the Fairmount to dress for dinner. I sat at the highly polished bar with my martini. I was surprised when a well dressed young man sat next to me. His greeting told me he was an American and probably from the east coast. He said, “Hello, my name is Thomas Manning from Providence. And you are?”

Surprised but pleased I said, “I’m Michael Leyten-Walker from England.”

“I assumed that because I overheard you speaking to a handsome man yesterday.”

I didn’t react but I had never heard another man refer to another man as ‘handsome’. “Yes, that is my friend, Jordan Brown. He is in rehearsal for a play that will be opening soon.”

“I know as I am here to write a review before their play comes to Providence in December.”

“You came all the way across the country to write a review?”

“Well, I really wanted to see California and see how San Francisco was recovering. What about yourself?” I hesitated so he said, “Sorry I’m so forward. That’s the way we Americans are. Excuse me.”

“No, no, I am not sure I know myself what I am doing here.” He laughed. “Jordan and I have been friends since childhood. We were in Colorado for his brother’s wedding when he was asked to be in this play. He is a well known actor in England and New York.”

“Yes, I know. I have seen him in London in this same play. I was just surprised to see him on the list of characters for the play in San Francisco.”

“Yes, that happened because of his friendship with Mrs. Pat.”

“I see. Can I propose another martini?”

“Perhaps, one more, then I must go and dress for dinner with Jordan and a young lady he wants me to meet.”

“A young lady? I thought…” His awkward pause suggested he knew more than he was saying. We continued our polite conversation until I took my leave. As I rose he said, “Are you free for dinner tomorrow evening? I would like to continue our conversation.”

“I would be delighted.”

As we warmly shook hands he said, “I will meet you in the Fairmount lobby at 8pm and please dress casually. Where I want to take you is more relaxed than the dining room at the hotel.” We parted.

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