Martinappeared unremarkable, too.Theyrode to the park, Henry letting Martin get a little distance ahead,as he always did, so he could surreptitiously admire his ass. Thecold and the clear, wan sun seemed to invigorate Martin, and he waschatty and full of cheerful warmth as he turned in the saddle tospeak to Henry of doings below stairs, his breath visible in puffs ofglittering mist. Henry made appropriate sounds as Martin talked, andtouched Marigold with his heels to bring her alongside Partita.Partita snorted and shook her head, never liking to be crowded, andHenry maneuvered to leave more room between the horses flanks.Atthis hour, many people were still in church and there were few otherriders on the bridle path. The snow hadnt melted here as it had onthe paved roads, so everything was covered in a patchy blanket ofwhite. The snow made soft, powdery crunches beneath the horseshooves. Partita continued to snort and blow and Martin leaned forwardto pat her neck.Shewants to run, I think, Sir. Shes tired of being cooped up.Wellrun them around the reservoir, Henry decided. Tell her to bepatient.Martinlaughed. You heard him, he told the horse. Youll haveyour chance.DespitePartitas impatience, they continued at a leisurely pace, enjoyingthe brisk air and the crystalline sparkle of the snowy park. Martinseemed supremely content, a pleased smile on his handsome face, andHenry was glad to be doing something that made him happy.Lookingaround the stark wintertime park, Henry indulged in a fantasy he hadentertained in the past, that perhaps in the spring, with the treesin full leaf, they could find some spot in the park private enoughMartin might be willing to allow him a kiss, some tiny intimacy. Itneednt be in public for all to see, but he badly wanted sometender contact between them outside the confines of his bedroom.Hisaffection for Martin was neither willful nor volitional, and it didnot seem fair that he was penalized for something so natural andnecessary. All he asked was for the same consideration as any otheryoung man; all he wanted was the freedom to follow the dictates ofhis heart wherever they might lead. He imagined walking arm-in-armwith Martin along a busy sidewalk, tipping their hats to ladies andnodding to gentlemen, and no one looking askance at theirpartnership. Wasnt it possible they might simply be viewed aseccentric young bachelors?Well,it might be possible if they were both free men. Things werecomplicated by Martins slave status. Would it be easier if Henrywas a slave, too? He would be a terrible slave, true, but if he werealso a slave, he and Martin could be together. Martin had saidunequivocally that slaves did not condemn romances between men, thatsuch distinctions didnt matter. He imagined getting a chest tattoomarking him as the product of one of the lesser Houses (he would notpresume to be Ganymede quality) so that he might stand at Martinsside as a lover, both of them in collarless shirts, their marksexposed. However, after a moments thought, he recognized hednever actually seen two male slaves treating each other with anyparticular intimacy in public. Slaves might be more demonstrativewith one another than free people, but it wasnt romantic;slaves