⚜ 𝔏𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝓒𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔩𝔢 ⚜

Of course neither man was prepared to bring up the obvious- to have children required a wife. Experience, his own as well as his daughters’, had softened Robert considerably on the question of marrying for love. But for their class of people limits existed- seemingly begging to be tested, but despite the love he held for Tom the earl still believed in the basic principle. When Anthony found a wife it would have to be someone suitable. “I hope so too. We’ll sort out something soon. I know you’ll love her, and she’ll love you.” That she wasn’t very discriminating about it was less unflattering than expected. “If you have time we could go down after we’re finished here.”

Which, it seemed, would either have to go on a fair while longer or be curtailed without success. Robert sighed- though it wasn’t all to do with the lack of fish at the end of his line. It had gotten complicated in the final years but without that friendship he never would have known Anthony at all. “Me too. What do you think, shall we call it a day? Let the fish have their victory for now. It’s not as if we’ll go hungry- only our pride would suffer a blow.”

He was surprised Robert wasn’t inquiring on his search for a wife, or questioning why he didn’t have one yet, but he was grateful for it. It had been hard enough being practically interrogated by his father for years, and introduced to countless women who his father found ‘suitable’. They had been lovely women, he had very little complaints about them, other than the fact he wasn’t attracted to them. He knew he would have to marry eventually, but it was a welcome break to not be discussing it. “If Sybbie is anything like her mother, I’m certain i’ll adore her.” Pulling his line back, he smiled. “Well I am joining you for dinner, so if we get back to the estate in time, hopefully I can meet her before she’s put to bed.”

Whatever Mary thought, rumours of her desire for Elizabeth’s throne were undoubtedly swirling. Although she had made no public move to show her interest in taking it, it could not be denied that the thoughts plagued her. As she struggled on in Scotland, trying to find ways to achieve the seemingly impossible task of pleasing everyone, she wondered how it might best please her nobles to see her as Queen of England too. But what that would entail was exactly everything she wanted to avoid - war, death, religious upheaval. Scotland was rapidly turning against her, that peace she so desperately wanted running far away from her reach. 

Thankfully, his words broke her from the racing of her own thoughts, and her eyes looked gratefully towards him for it. “ A necessity, yes, but not one that I like. ” But what good could her protests do? Even she, as a Queen, could not change those deeply ingrained values of their society. “ It makes me feel ungrateful to even complain, knowing how lucky we are compared to those in most need. ” But even then, to have some amount of freedom ought to be a blessing. To speak, without having to be mindful of every single word. Even here, when they had first met, Mary had to be so careful so as to avoid any insult. She was thankful now that they were much more relaxed in one another’s company. 

Mary was grateful for the chance to walk with him, easing the stiffness in her joints from where she had sat so tightly through nerves. “ Your support is valued very much, my Lord, and shall not be forgotten. ” There came the more real and happy side to her personality, all smiles as she took the seat he had offered. How nice it felt to have the politics done and away, excited now as she began to feel her hunger. “ I certainly do, and I am sure you have the most talented cook. ”

Anthony nodded in agreement, he often felt the same when the weight of his duties became too much. He had no right to complain when those less fortunate than him had it worse, and he felt occasionally felt guilty for what he had. If he could, he’d give up everything and spread his wealth amongst the common people. But he had a responsibility; not to be rich, but to be a leader. His role wasn’t just a fancy title, it was a job. He protected those that lived and worked in his lands, he helped enforce the law, and ensured that they paid their taxes. He wasn’t unkind, if times were tough, he was fair on his tenants and allowed them more time, or paid their taxes for them. If someone else were to take his position, he doubted they’d do the same. At the end of the day, he was the best person suited for this role, and he had to learn to not complain about it so much.

“Do you ever get the feeling that the common folk have more freedom than we do?” It was a bold question to ask, especially given how he shouldn’t be complaining about what he had, but he was curious to know if Mary felt as he did. It certainly seemed like she might after what she’d said, but sometimes, what someone said, and what they meant were two very different things. “Politics can often be a dangerous world, I feel I have to guard my words more often than I’d like to.” Perhaps with Mary as Queen, he wouldn’t have to do that all the time. Then again, he’d have to be on guard regardless of who was Queen. He doubted Mary would be thrilled that he was a sodomite any more than Elizabeth would if they found out.

The amused reaction didn’t bother him; he found it rather funny himself and was resigned to it with mostly good humor. What other choice did he have? He couldn’t refuse to see his own granddaughter because of undue influence, and anyway he had no wish to deny either of them that pleasure. She did seem to genuinely like him, which would never cease to be a wonder. “Very much so,” Robert agreed with a chuckle. “We’re all looking forward to seeing that day… but we’ll enjoy this while we can. They grow up so quickly, Anthony. You’ll learn that when you’ve some of your own.” At this he cast a sideways glance at his godson. He wouldn’t press the issue like Anthony’s father would have, but then his inheritance didn’t depend on it either. If he were to ask it would largely be from curiosity and a personal concern.

Not surprising that his thought turned fully to the father then. Anthony’s answer was worth the wait. Robert gave him a pensive look in reply before adding words. “Sometimes I wonder if that isn’t our fate as fathers and some of us just control it better than others. I never quite lived up to the old earl’s expectations myself.” He certainly had his own regrets; he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time opposing Sybil and Tom, or- well, a lot of regrets, anyway. “I am sorry he can’t see that he’s got a splendid son in you, can’t be glad for what he does have. Oh!” He exclaimed, feeling a tug on his line, then it left again. “False alarm, I’m afraid. Anything for you?”

Whilst it would certainly be a challenge for him, Anthony longed to be a father, and hoped he would be a good one. He hadn’t had the most ideal father in the world, but he had Robert to look up to, and seek guidance from should he need it. He’d love to have a daughter like Sybbie, she sounded wonderful with just the right amount of cheekiness that he knew he’d enjoy. “I hope I get to meet her soon,” He was sure he’d see her running around when they got back to Downton Abbey after they finished fishing, but he would like to get a proper introduction. “I hope it won’t be too long till I have my own children, I’d like to be young enough to be able to actively participate in their lives.”

♛

    Big sets of greyish blue eyes raised to the young human man. He had the human scent. Smell of salt, blood & male fragrance. A hand he touched the edge of the table and stood up, he’s tall and the male shoe heels helps a little.     ℒ 𝒆𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽 walked around him as a voracious predator, for a moment, he remembered the crafty way of wolves but he is majestic. He tilted his head to the side.

❝ I am extremely rich, an aristocrat. Lestat it’s my name, Lestat de Lioncourt. ❞     he answered quietly, introducing him to the young man.

Anthony wasn’t sure what to think of the man, he was drawn to him in a way that didn’t feel normal, but there was something...off about the man. Anthony couldn’t put his finger on it, but any alarm bells that were ringing in the back of his mind, were drowned out by a need to know more about the man, and to feel his touch. He’d never been this attracted to a man before, and it scared him how much he wanted the man. Anthony was willing to risk everything, just for a chance to taste his lips.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, I’m Lord Anthony Whytton of Carlisle.” It was up to Lestat whether he addressed him as Lord Whytton or Lord Carlisle, but secretly Anthony wanted to know what it would be like to hear Lestat call him by his Christian name. “Modesty doesn’t appear to be your forte Mr Lioncourt.” This was the Duke’s party, everyone here was an aristocrat, except for the servants. “Your accent is French, is that where you’re from?” He asked, subtly taking a sip of his wine.

This was the most important thing – to make sure she was seen in the best, and most honest way. In the short time she had been back in Scotland, so many were trying to denounce her name, denounce even her most sacred right. She wished to see, above all else, a peace and tolerance which seemed to be long lost from her country, and if she could side with powerful and influential allies, it would be the building blocks for this long sought after peace. She had lived a fair life in France, perhaps too fair in parts. 

“ I came from a court so busy and thriving that it times, even when I was Queen, did not feel mine. My decisions were never my own, there was always another  guiding voice. Perhaps I took too much comfort from that, and now that I am here, I at often times feel lost. ” Her voice had lowered, so much so to keep the conversation from her guard’s ears. This bout of honesty had been unprecedented, but a relief of sorts nonetheless. Whether he cared or not would not entirely matter, but to have fresh ears listen made her let her guard down a little. Only momentarily, for his mention of Elizabeth once more made her naturally recoil. “ It is only merely what is mine by right, but the politics are far more complicated than that. Would I ever be truly accepted as the English Queen also? ”

The question would no doubt hang in the air, Mary not quite ready for an answer, and so his offer came as a most welcomed distraction. She stood and took his arm, smiling in the most neutral way. “ I would be very grateful, you have been most kind to me. ”

Anthony had always been a fan of the Stuarts, he couldn’t publicly announce it of course, but it was how he felt. The Tudors had always seemed more ruthless than the Stuarts, they were too quick to anger, and in his opinion, they had abused their power. Henry VIII had changed the laws at a whim to suit his own selfish needs, risking their country being excommunicated from Rome, his daughter Mary (aptly nicknamed ‘Bloody Mary’ by many of the nobles), had been a tyrant, Edward had barely ruled, and now Elizabeth seemed to be hell bent on proving a woman could rule to an obsessive level. He’d heard how she often refused to listen to the council of those around her, and threatened anyone who dared to challenge her or speak up. That wasn’t what he wanted in a ruler. He had no problem with a woman ruling. He just wanted someone honest, fair and just; Like Mary Queen of Scots.

“I too grew up in court; it is a necessity of our lifestyles is it not?” Sometimes he envied his servants and the tenants who lived on his lands. They got to live a quieter life, they didn’t have to constantly watch what they said or did for fear of reprimand or scandal. Being in court was a performance, and it could be exhausting having to keep up a pretence. You couldn’t show hostility towards those you disliked, you needed to smile even if your world was crashing down around you, you had to look good, speak eloquently at all times, and be perfect in every way. Anthony would ever try and claim his life was harder than those who worked the land, or had a trade, or even those who were poor and homeless. But his life was no picnic either, and he was only a nobleman, he shuddered to think how hard it had to be for Mary.

It certainly helped not bearing grief alone. Robert had seen a stark demonstration of that up close. For the son that died before he lived, he had been at Cora’s side and she at his. But while they had fallen out over Sybil’s passing, that had been hell of a different magnitude. He would never wish that on his worst enemies, such as they were.

Anthony was as far from that as could be imagined anyway. Rather than dwell on some of his worst mistakes before his godson, Robert leapt eagerly at the much more welcome subject of another beloved Sybil. With a chuckle he admitted the truth of this. “Oh, it’s too late for me— I’m very definitely a goner.” He stopped to let out a laugh, which released whatever tension still lingered from the earlier conversation. “You know— well, I’m not entirely sure I should spread the word but I expect you’ll hear if you came over. She’s rechristened me ‘Donk.’ Can’t imagine where she got that one.”

The humor clung on as he stared across the water. “Just having you along would be a great boon, I know.” Then a frown sprang up and he looked to his godson. He seemed to pause for thought before speaking, considering the wisdom of plunging ahead. “I don’t mean to pry, but well… what in heaven’s name has come between you? It seems worse than ever.”

It was a mark of how much he cared for and worried about Anthony that he was effectively inviting an airing of another family’s dirty linens. At least, he could think of no reason the boy should have earned his father’s disapproval, which in turn had come between the two older men. Robert didn’t like to be out of sorts if he didn’t have to be. They were similar rank and would only make certain social gatherings awkward. “I can’t understand it.” Shaking his head, the earl cast out his line once more.

Anthony couldn’t stop the laugh that left his lips at the little revelation. Kind and loving as Robert had always appeared to be, it was hard to imagine Robert being wrapped around the finger of his granddaughter. Nor did he imagine Robert ever accepting being called Donk by anyone, even if it came from a young girl. Strange as it seemed, it was also heartwarming. No one would be able to claim that he didn’t love his granddaughter, the way the man’s face lit up when he spoke about her was evidence enough. “It sounds like she has you wrapped around her little finger.” He patted Robert on the shoulder. “I have a feeling she will be a forced to be reckoned with when she grows up. Just like her mother.”

Ah, that.

“It would appear so, a surprise to everyone I think.” In truth, Matthew was still surprised at the changes in his life, sometimes he still woke up in Crawley house, unsure of where he was.

To say Anthony was going to be hard to get along with was probably a understatement. Damon and Anthony head always gotten along but having so much time apart they had both been through what neither could begin to explain. This wasn’t Damon being rude it as him trying to be helpful that whatever could have happened to Anthony, he could always come to him to talk about it and talk through it. Now however he was flat out what seemed to be offending him. What happened to him to make him so far up his own ass and not caring to share. Then again if Damon had to think about everything that had happened to him, would he quite openly talk about it? No. Maybe he didn’t think. Maybe he was putting it a step too far. Damon definitely needed to consider how his old friend was feeling and if that meant stalking him whilst he was out doing god knows what. Damon was his guy.

“Then don’t ask for my help if you dont need it. I am sure from whatever crypt you have come from you will be able to fit in with  today’s people and can go after whoever you choose…” he rolled his eyes. If he was going to talk to him like he had been doing. Mr I know everything, then he would probably continue tormenting his old friend. That humanity switch had to come back on at some point and he knew in the direction he was going, he would hate himself by the end of it or worse. Get himself killed. And Damon couldn’t have that for his friend. 

Damon had been in this situation- once or twice. Okay, many times. What was the good that came out of it? He eventually found his way but was lost in the very beginning. But that had all lead him to a very long route of torture and despair. Would he want Anthony going through all of that? From the looks of things he ahead already and he had lost all his muse and happiness that used to be about him. 

Finally he rested his hand upon his shoulder; a pretend sign to admit defeat “its clear as day that you don’t want me around so I will leave you to it, yeah? Have a good life Anthony” with that he started to leave, of course after showing him the barber. Could he really be without interest, of course not.  Damon would lurk…

Anthony didn’t need Damon’s help, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Damon had offered to help, he’d practically forced it on him, Anthony hadn’t asked for it. Unfortunately, though he was reluctant to admit it, he was at a disadvantage. He’d been locked up for such a long time, removed from the world that he no longer knew how to be a part of it. Damon could help him with that, and Anthony was willing to allow Damon to help him blend in. But what he wasn’t going to do, was allow Damon to help him with his revenge. That was his, and his alone to take. He had been planning it for far too long to allow someone else to weasel their way into it.

“I never asked, so your point is mute.” Anthony wasn’t trying to split hairs, he was just speaking his mind, something he’d not had much of a chance to do whilst he was locked up. He’d spoken to himself plenty of times, and tried to strike up a conversation with his captors but they were never that interested in talking. They just wanted to take him apart and ask questions on how it was affecting him, but even then it had felt more like they weren’t actually talking to him. They had been voicing their thoughts, just like he was doing now. 

Whatever Damon’s aim was, he would ultimately fail. He could offer and retract his help all he wanted, Damon could try and trip him up, or force an emotive response, but it wouldn’t work. Anthony hadn’t felt or cared for so long, that it had become normal for him. He wasn’t going to have all of that change because Damon wanted it to. “Fair enough. By all means leave, I won’t stop you Damon.” He hadn’t come here for Damon, he’d come here to get his revenge and that was exactly what he was going to do.

⟅ ⚜ Eyes belonging to the Dauphin brighten at the acceptance of his request. Placing his hands into his pockets due to his need for self-assurance, he continues to walk along– but turning on foot so to keep eye contact ever so often. Listening intently, but also breathing through the nagging in his chest. The aching rocket beneath his rib cage finally ceasing since walking through the door as a guest. The prince is able to find his sense of ease.  Confidence is important,  especially not his typical staff. To be around another who holds a title, to be able to divulge any kind of hardship at all— trivial, even, is most valuable. 

Imploring slightly, even to remove a hand as gesture -just to lighten the guilt, but 

❝ You are most certain? Even so, refusing my offer to compensate. I  mean—

I… I understand if it is to prove that it is unneeded so to imply stability, but surely– surely you must want a retur–rn❞

the French male holds his tongue, stopping midway so not to irritate or test the other’s decision. He must respect it, however, they have accepted. Regardless of money, should that mean something? To be employed for the sake of leisure? Perhaps? Guessing it– maybe it would be best to put the nagging query away as to why bring it out at a later date. 

  ❝ Well… 

If that suits you. Because whether or not–any answer from you is suitable for me. And if at all you would like to make a change to our terms// receive wages//terminate employment– reason of any kind. It shall be as you wish.❞ 

Solemn nod at the last bit, it takes very little to show strength in the sincerity wishing to convey itself.

❝ Thank you, Sir. And whenever it is most convenient for you to start–

 I oblige to that as well❞ Tugging on the lower lip as the anxiety raids once again so as to relieve the tension in the jaw, a hand holds out as a gesture to shake with Anthony to form the oral contract to their agreement.⚜ ⟆

Anthony was able to support himself, and wouldn’t let the young Prince pay for his travel, even if Anthony was going at the request of his King and the Prince himself. If what the King and Queen had said was entirely factual, then it was safe to assume that the Prince’s funds wouldn’t be overly stable. If he had been sick for such a long time, it may have had an affect on his income. It was highly likely that taxes would have risen to compensate the payment of doctors, but without their Prince, trade would have suffered and looters would have felt inclined to get away with more, resulting in the Prince’s money being thinly stretched. Anthony refused to have more of a negative affect on the Prince’s funds, even if it was a small fee. “I’m certain, I am happy to pay my own way sire.” Unless the Prince insisted, Anthony wouldn’t hear any different on the matter.

He would buy a ticket to France without arranging a return for himself, it would be a pointless endeavour to do so when he had no idea how long he would be needed for. When it was time for him to return, he would simply travel to the closest dock and book passage on a ship back to London, and from there he could get a carriage back to Carlisle. It could be a few months before he returned home, or even a year, there was no way of telling how long the Prince would need him for. Though admittedly, the longer the Prince needed him, the better. Anthony was in desperate need of some time away from his father. The man’s strict and aggressive parenting had become too much, it had done for a long time. Prince Adam’s schooling was a perfect excuse to get away, he would milk it as much as he was able to.

“I cannot see me wanting to terminate my employment with you, as for wages, I wouldn’t require much; if any.” He imagined he’d be staying at the caste, so he’d have a place to sleep and meals provided for him. Asking for a wage on top of that seemed greedy somehow. “I can start next month if you require me to do so. I just need to pack and book passage on a ship, and then I can leave.”