Neal shot an uneasy look at Fletcher as though he didn't realize what he'd actually signed up for until that moment. "Of course," he replied. "I've been told I'm a quick learner. That is, if it wouldn't be any trouble to you, Miss."

Fletch had returned his attention to the book and made a point of leaning back into the chaise and grunting as he settled in. At Theo's second jab, though, his eyebrow twitched and his eye flashed murderously. He scoffed, then remembered himself and tried to pass it off as a coughing fit. And then it really did turn into a coughing fit, and he shut the book altogether and leaned into his sleeve, holding a finger up as he did.

"Fuck," he mumbled, sniffling and resuming that same relaxed position. "Ugh. 'Pologies Miss. Sir. Dunno what came over me."

"I should hope so," he replied. "It is meant to be my main language. Now Mr. Truckett see that you learn well unlike Mr. Daw here. Lady Obower is practically a master at this point in her skills. It would be beneficial to me if my staff could actually communicate with me properly after all."

"Oh Teddy," she simpered, "wouldn't you rather keep it just our little thing?"

"And hurt poor Mr. Truckett's feelings? Of course not my dear. He looks like he's actually pay you plenty mind in his lessons unlike some people."

It took everything within Kaela not to bolt for the den and just never come out of the den ever again. Only thing stopping her from doing that was the fact she had no idea how to get back without Raxta. 
So she walked quietly next to Raxta, the quietest she had ever been. 
Mentally Kaela was kicking herself. Why'd she have to go and say that? 

In the distance, thunder could be heard rumbling through the clouds, and the wind was beginning to pick up, whistling through the tops of the trees.

They got back to Raxta's den. Whether it was because of the impending thunderstorm or because the sun had sunk low enough to cast the jungle into shadowy dusk, it was now quite dark. Occasional flashes of lightning could be seen through the dense jungle foliage, and Kaela uneasily muttered a curse at whichever god chose to gift the jungle with a storm. She hated, absolutely hated thunder. 
Kaela ducked inside of the den and stood near the entrance, waiting while Raxta retrieved clothes. 
"I...I can sleep outside"—a loud crash of thunder interrupted her sentence, and Kaela jumped, right into Raxta's arms.

Oh. The signing. 

He shouldn't have allowed it: that sick and burning jealousy. It's fake, he reminded himself. It's all fake. He tried to use his memories of Theo's touch as a ward against it, but even those didn't entirely keep him from glaring at the two. What was the man thinking, letting her in on this? Why'd he keep encouraging it? Never mind the hit they were taking to how useful a secret language could be right now. It shouldn't have been happening at all. Not with that ungrateful, two-faced brat.

By the time Theo had addressed him, Fletcher regarded the illustration of the cargo fluyt with intense and sour contempt. His eye slid off the page to rest on the nobleman. "Wouldn't know, sir. I've barely learned the basics. That's more your area of expertise, really." He lowered the book and glanced over at Neal. "Could be useful, though, ey?"

The man smiled, first at him, and then more broadly at Edwina. "Certainly. Consider this bodyguard your humble student, Miss Edwina."

"Aneisha has been doing it for years. Perhaps your guards should train in it," he teased lightly before turning to a blushing Edwina. "Your food my lady." Theo bowed and swept an arm as if it was him that had made and carried it all up making the woman giggle. 

"Thank you," she signed back making him smile wider and more genuine. He took a seat at a small table with her where they could sit and talk.

While the pair signed in silly conversation, his eyes could not help but watch as Neal moved about the room again before taking a seat near Fletcher. He could not watch long and instead focused on gently redirected Edwina's hands into the correct positions for the words she was trying to say. His touch lingered as he smiled tenderly at her. 

"You're improving. You could teach, Mr. Truckett at this rate, couldn't she Mr. Daw?"

Fletch scowled, realizing in that moment just what kind of torture he'd given Theo free reign to enact. He did want more of it, it was true. He'd meant that. He thought he'd never be able to get enough of Theo's attention, of Theo's cleverness, of Theo's teasing. But holy hell, it would test his resolve. "Yeah, I know it," he muttered beneath his breath. "I seen you like eggs."

He followed the nobleman back to the piano room, moving rather slowly with so much to balance. By the time he'd caught up and set the trays down, he had a newfound respect for what Aneisha could do. "Neish makes it look easy," he complained as he stepped away and flopped back down on the chaise. Along the way, he nabbed the same old sailing book that he'd been very much not reading. He still didn't intend to read it, but at least it gave him a reason to look as preoccupied as he now did.

"I don't know. I kind of like the idea of making my dearest wait. Something about suffering making the heart grow fonder? Oh or was that absence?"

He grinned impishly with a knowing smirk as he passed Fletcher and lead him out of the kitchen. "Do try to not scarf it all down though. I happen to like the eggs."

"'S fine. I'm sure Neal and I can put away whatever you and her don't," Fletch assured him, midway through purloining a deviled egg as if to prove his point. Kenna flipped a dish towel at him, not daring to actually hit him with it lest he drop everything. With a cheeky grin, he shifted the trays back onto both arms and nodded to Theo, doing his best to pretend that he hadn't just been tangled up with him in that brief stolen moment. "Pack mule's ready, sir. Don't want to keep your dearest waiting. Shall we?"

His eyes watered slightly but he beamed brightly at the other man. He thought he had already fallen for Fletcher but with every word and every touch he fell all the harder for him with no safety net to catch him. It was dangerous. It was beautiful. And he was greedy for more. 

He took the time needed to settle, to straighten clothes and hair, to soothe the flush of his cheeks and return to mild-mannered retired deviant Theodore Archer instead of passionate and starving for affection Theo the Tart.

Aneisha was piling up trays in Fletcher's arms by the time he was finally able to meet in the kitchen. "Kenna," he laughed, "how many do you expect to feed? There's only two of us for tea this morning."

"Her Ladyship demanded you were fed for having missed breakfast, sir. Caused a right mess of things it did. Not to worry Mr. Theo, we'll have it all sorted for you shortly."

"I'm so sorry, Kenna," he murmured looking entirely out of place in his pretty clothes and utterly guilty. Theo was quickly waved off though as the women continued their hustle and bustle around him. He peeked over at Fletcher and just the sight was comfort enough to make the smallest of smiles return to his face. He wasn't alone in this anymore. 

Fletch accepted the embrace readily, grasping fistfuls of Theo's robe and nuzzling in even as his instinct nagged at him to leave and stop risking what they had. As they drew apart, he seized on the opportunity and planted a soft parting kiss on his lips. "No. Keep doing it," he smirked. "Do it more. I've never felt so alive as today."

He pulled away again, chuckling to himself. "I think I'm off to dunk my head in cold water, now," he laughed. "See you in the kitchen? Good luck finding your candle." With that, he flashed one last adoring glance and slipped back out into the hall and into the washroom. The icy water did help bring him back to earth, but his thoughts of Theo lingered. He dried himself off and made his way into the kitchen, half a smirk still pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, Neish. Need help with the trays?"