Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
Welcome to For King and Court. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Locked Topic
Beat out the French?; Eddie Spencahhh
Topic Started: Apr 9 2011, 10:56 PM (276 Views)
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
There were many things in the course of his life that William was very thankful for, and he was dutiful enough to thank God for those fortunes. However, there were few things that really compared to how thankful he now was to be away from his grandfather. It was not the man was harsh with him or expected much out of him, because William had always been held to high standards and used as an example. It was that the man showed him absolutely no regard.

Over the course of a few fortnights, the man hardly could have held a conversation with William. He talked at him, ordered him about, or asked him questions. He did not invite anything else. As much as he did not like it, William had obeyed the man's obvious wishes to see him no better than a servant. What else did his grandfather seem to want from him but to neither see nor hear him but constantly knows of his diligence to his duties. The man obviously looked at him no better than common rabble and that grated on William heavily.

His life had been filled with strict men, and such was simply normal, but William had never been much starved for regard or care or love. He had to see this through for the love that he did have for his late father.

Now, though, he was away from Althorp, and his grandfather had returned to court with Sir John. Instead he and his brother were staying with his uncle, Lord Denbigh, and his family. For the last few days they treated he and his brother fine enough, and Denbigh's children were all around the age of Francis, or closer to him than William. William, thus, was still pretty much so lonely. There was only so much conversation one could have with one's younger brother of less than ten years of age.

William was reading and translating something, slowly and tiredly dragging his quill across the page. His eyes raised out the window for a moment, and Henry suddenly bolted up and knocked right into him, sending ink flying and ruining his work.

"Merde!" he gasped, both because the jolt hurt his shoulder and because it had shocked him and made a mess.

To his luck, Henry decided it was a good time to make use of the new word he had just heard, likely thinking it some common swear, which boys were not exactly discouraged to use, really. William, though, was appropriately mortified.

"Henry, chut!" God's Blood! "Quiet, Henry."
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Six-year-old Henry Spencer was about as interested in tutors and studies as ... well, as a boy of six could possibly be. Which was to say, he wasn't very interested at all. Not when there was so much more to do outside, on a nice day such as this. There was mud to romp through, horses to feed carrots to, trees to climb ... and here he was, stuck indoors, while his father got to go out and see to the dogs. There was supposed to be a litter of pups born any time now, and young Henry had absolutely begged his father to go with. Henry loved the dogs, and he was anxious to see if the new pups had been born, as they would be the first litter out of the dogs that his father had taken in recently.

For the young tow-headed boy, life had been one excitement after another over the past few days. He'd found out only a few days earlier that he had cousins he didn't know about, cousins who talked funny and were older than him. Well, the one known as "Lord Dorchester" was a lot older than him--in fact, he was almost a man, like Papa!--but the other one, Francis, was only a little older. His father had told him that they had come from France (which Henry found rather funny, given that his cousin's name was Francis), and would be staying with them for a little while.

Henry, of course, thought that the way his new cousins talked was just ... wondrous. So, needless to say, he had taken rather aptly to learning how to talk in the same funny manner that they did. What he didn't understand was why Father didn't seem to like it so much when they talked like that.

Today, though, he was impatiently staring out the window, waiting for Father to return. Henry squirmed in his seat, much to the disapproval of his tutor (who had left the room moments before to fetch something), until he saw a tall figure entering the courtyard. And like a bolt, he was out of his seat and heading toward the window, to see if it was his father he'd seen. "FATHER!" He happily called out, waving frantically at the man who waved in return, and then turned to rush out of the room. The heck with those darned studies!

He'd completely forgotten that his cousin Dorchester was in the room, and consequently collided into him on his way out, sending ink flying everywhere. "I'm sorry!" Henry's eyes widened as they took in the splattered ink, and then Dorchester uttered one of those funny-sounding words.

"Merde?" Henry tested it out, puzzled. Must be some sort of swear word; the young boy was rather apt at picking up new swear words. "Merde!" He repeated, more forcefully this time. Yes, it was certainly a swear word. He had no idea that he'd hurt his cousin.

And why the heck was he supposed to be quiet? "But what's wrong with the word? Father doesn't mind swearing, as long as we don't do it around Mother ..." Which reminded him, his father was out in the courtyard! "Merde! Father's in the courtyard now!" Without a further word, he rushed from the room and into the courtyard.


For Edward Spencer, it had been a trying morning already, dealing with the first litter of pups in his new dog-breeding business. One of the pups had been quite sickly, and the kennel keepers had worked frantically to try to revive the pup, to no avail. At least there were two others, although Edward had been hoping for at least one or two more.

Actually, the last few days had been rather trying, as sure enough, his nephews William and Francis had arrived. No surprise there, as Edward had expected it. Nor had it been any large surprise when his wife had greeted the news with a certain sullenness at first; however, she had warmed up to the boys quickly enough. And Henry, his oldest son, seemed to like his cousins well enough.

He saw his son waving from the window, and waved back, smiling. Ah, Henry. High-spirited, yes, but a good boy all the same. As was Thomas, who was but three. Edward loved his boys very much.

Moments later, a small form collided into him. "Oof!" Edward staggered back a step, taken by surprise. There was no doubt in his mind that Henry was the one responsible. "Henry," he began sternly, "How many--"

"MERDE!" Henry pulled himself back, wide-eyed at the fact that he'd nearly knocked his father down. Oh, he was gonna get it now!

Merde? Edward frowned at his son. He knew damn good and well that it was a French swear word, and there was only one way that Henry could learned such a word. God's blood, how many times did he have to knock it into William's (and Francis's) head that French was not allowed at Denbigh, save for studies?

"Henry! Do not EVER use that word again, lest I whip you soundly for it!" Fuming, Edward narrowed his eyes at his son, who was now babbling apologies. And mentioning something about Dorchester. God's BLOOD!

Edward stomped through the courtyard, forgetting about Henry for the moment. His eyes fixated on a nervous-looking servant. "Fetch me a birch branch NOW!" He nearly roared at the hapless boy. With two boys, he had a ready supply of them.

He had just reached the door to his castle when the servant reappeared at his side, producing the requested branch. Nodding curtly, Edward took it from and entered the house.

"DORCHESTER!" He roared at the top of his lungs. "YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED IMMEDIATELY!" Edward held the birch branch in front of him, whacking it lightly into the palm of his hand. On his face was a look that would deem him capable of murder.

When the boy appeared, Edward started in immediately. "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING FRENCH? AND NOW MY SON IS SWEARING IN THE LANGUAGE!" He whacked the branch against his palm a few more times for good measure.

"Remove your shirt!" He growled almost viciously.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William's eyes grew wide as Henry asked him why it was so bad. Could the boy not just listen? Must he keep repeating the swear in French? Must he?

All effort of trying to stop Henry was over when the boy went bounding out of the room. The boy was yelling about father, so he knew that Henry must have seen Denbigh.

Hopefully, none of this would really come to anyone's attention, but he was not holding his breath. He pursed his lips together and sighed, cringing whilst thinking about what might happen if one of Denbigh's children ran around swearing in French. A servant appeared and helped him wipe his hands of ink before washing the rest off with a basin of water.

""DORCHESTER!" he sudden heard the man roaring at the top of his lungs. "YOUR PRESENCE IS REQUIRED IMMEDIATELY!"

Henry. Of course. Not even a minute.

William had no choice but to obey, so waved the servant away and exited the room, heading toward the front entrance of the grand home. His uncle's face shone of seriousness and anger, and William well knew what this was about. The length of birch in the man's hand made his purpose quite evident. He was not surprised, and he knew French of any sort was against the rules for him in England. He gave the man a bow, but did not have a chance to greet him as the man was yelling already.

"HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING FRENCH? AND NOW MY SON IS SWEARING IN THE LANGUAGE!" The man bellowed.

Standing there with his hands behind his back in his usual grace, William inclined his head a bit and looked down.

"I beg your forgiveness, and you have told many times, My Lord, and will at least one more time, as I have done it again despite your diligence in the matter," he assented quietly. He cringed on reflex as he head that wood meet his uncle's hand. "Yes, My Lord." It only took him a few moments to unfasten his doublet and take it off. looking for something to do with it, he simply dropped it on the floor. His linen shirt followed it. His blue eyes scanned the area quickly, looking for what the man intended push him on to exact this punishment. Finding nothing, he stood there a bit awkwardly, a small frown finding his face as he saw Henry's reappearance from the courtyard, but he said nothing. Instead, he stood there placidly in front of his uncle, waiting to be told - or shown - where to go so that he might take his whipping and be done with it. He hoped he would just be taking this one on the back and that his breeches were not going to get yanked down any measure. Not sitting, riding, or sleeping comfortably was rather becoming a lifestyle for Dorchester. His skin certainly was not free of redness or lingering tenderness from the last time.
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
The fact that William was begging his forgiveness, did not make Edward any happier. In fact, it merely added fuel to his ire. "You BEG my forgiveness?" He glared daggers into the boy. "YOU BEG MY FORGIVENESS? I AM WEARY OF HEARING YOU SAY THIS!"

One thing about Spencers in general, they were known for having fabulous tempers, and Edward was no exception. For the most part, the Baron was easygoing with a mild temperament, finding humor in nearly everything around him. Unless he became angry, that was; a fellow knight had once compared Edward's temper to that of a Holy War descending upon the land like a plague. A bit exaggerated perhaps, but it was no great secret that the Baron's anger was something to behold. People had a tendency to quickly scatter from his path when he was in such a mood.

As he was now. "You WILL receive a lash for EVERY TIME that you have 'begged' for my forgiveness, just as you WILL receive a lash for EVERY TIME that you have SPOKEN FRENCH WHEN I EXPRESSLY FORBADE IT!" Edward was on a roll, the sound of birch smacking against his hand lending a threatening sound to the air. As far as he was concerned, he'd given the boy many chances to correct himself. Perhaps too many chances. Well, then. Time to correct that, yes?

His eyes narrowed as the boy dropped his doublet, and then his shirt. "Against the wall," he ordered gruffly, his face looking rather red and furious whilst he jerked a finger in the direction of the front wall. "And do not tarry about it, either!"

Once the boy assumed the position, Edward began, laying the birch branch across William's back rather hard. "I HAVE--" Whack! "--CLEARLY BEEN--" Whack! "--FAR TOO SOFT--" Whack! "WITH YOU!" Whack!

He went on like that for another couple of minutes, until the boy's back was good and red. Finally, he stopped. "Turn around and face me, Dorchester," he commanded. He waited until the boy did so. "Now ... what have you learned from this?"
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
The thirteen year old Dorchester had always been taught that whenever you had done something wrong, you always asked forgiveness and accepted your punishment for it. That was simply how it was done. So he simply did not understand why the man was yelling about him begging forgivenesses. He stood there, perplexedly, yet silently as he looked down somewhere fluctuating between the man's belt and chest.

William did not need to see the anger from the man, as he could clearly hear it through the air. He could feel it coming off the man as he smacked that length of wood into his hand. A small twitch came from his face at each crack as the man yelled at him. He took off his doublet and shirt as instructed

"Against the wall," the man ordered gruffly.

"Yes, My Lord," he replied, with a deferential nod, as he moved by the man to do as he was told.

"And do not tarry about it, either!"

"No, My Lord." He moved even faster, and put his left forearm on the wall, leaning his weight against it and then lowering his forehead onto his arm. His left knee popped slightly bent.

The moment he was settled, his uncle commenced the whipping, growling and bellowing with each stroke. Sucking in his breath and swallowing between blows, William set his jaw like he had done so many times before, his eyelids pressing in but not closing. The muscles in his neck tensed, his face wincing and then contorting a bit as it carried on for some minutes. William was too focused on the fresh, sharp sting of each stroke to feel or much notice the lingering pain underneath it from the subsequent strokes. That awareness would not much come until after it was over, he knew, and then he would feel that aching, sore pain, with a weary heat coming from it. He would feel it for days.

Turn around and face me, Dorchester," the man commanded, and William obeyed before the man continued, "Now ... what have you learned from this?"

As he turned to face his uncle the burn on his back was immense and it thumped with a pulse all of it's own. A pulse that sent twinges of pain right down his spine.

"My Lord, to not disobey you and to specifically not disobey you about speaking in French." He looked down for a moment. It was not as if he felt he even had control of it. His tongue had yet to learn. His mind, his heart, his back had all learned. "Please you, My Lord Uncle, I will gladly take my punishment and learn from you, but know my tongue is most rebellious against my wishes in this..." He searched for the word mentally. "...endeavor," he finished. "I do only wish to please you."

Dorchester was not daft enough to think he could possibly please the man until his tongue reformed itself of - well - the entire beginnings of his life.

He also knew his own wickedness. William had spoken French alone with his brother numerous times, and that was disobedient, and God would see him punished. He knew that whatever wickedness one had was not invisible to God, as much as his quietly whispered French late into the night with his brother was invisible to his uncle. So, William was not surprised to be whipped, that was simply what God and his betters dictated.
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
What was it about these French? In England, a man did not spend all his time begging for forgiveness. Or, more specifically, a Spencer man did not spend all his time begging for forgiveness. And to Edward, who had lived and breathed battle virtually from the time he could walk, begging forgiveness was much akin to being weak, and surrendering.

Spencer men most certainly did not surrender.

To give Dorchester his due, however, the boy did not break down and start wailing (something that Edward's boys were prone to do, at their age), which did please the Baron ... somewhat. It likely would have pleased him much more, if he weren't already angry with Dorchester. And once Edward let his temper get the best of him, it was rather difficult to stop him--a quality that made him a valued soldier on the field.

He watched with narrowed eyes as William removed his shirt and doublet and did as he was told, bracing himself against the wall. And then he commenced with the beating. Deep in the recesses of his mind, a small, miniscule part of him regretted having to do this, but this was the way of the world. That which did not kill a man, only made him stronger, and Edward was determined to make Dorchester a very strong man.

As he finally began to calm down, Edward's breathing became heavy as he pulled away, paying little heed to the state of his nephew's back. It was a state that he'd endured himself, many a time, when he was younger. But the Baron was still simmering in anger as he ordered the boy to turn around and face him.

Well, at least he took it like a man, another revelation that likely would have pleased Edward under other circumstances.

He nodded, his face set like a stone mask. "Precisely," he replied gruffly. "And yet you disobeyed me."

Still hanging onto the birch branch, Edward drew his arms to himself, cupping his elbows with his hands. He couldn't exactly say that he was terribly impressed with the bit about the tongue, to be honest. "Your tongue is rebellious?" The Baron arched a brow at the boy. "You would allow your tongue to control you?" That was a load of bollocks.

Edward retorted, "Then perhaps you should have a talk with your tongue! Or should I start whipping your tongue, then?" His blue eyes simmered over with anger as he shook his head. "You had best gain better control of that rebellious tongue of yours, for the sake of your back. No," he continued, shaking his head again, "Do not ever tell that fanciful tale to me again. A tongue can be controlled. It is a matter of thinking first. You wish to please me? Then think before you speak."

He stood a little while longer, nostrils flaring with each breath. "Begone with you, then," he nodded curtly, "And dress yourself before you go."

He turned to begin searching for his son.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William's eyes remained looking at the man's doublet as his words were thrown back at him, and he was read a lesson. He was quite certain that his tongue best smarten for the sake of his back; God's Blood, that was something that he had learned since coming to England. When the man was finished on his tired, William gave the man a nod.

"Yes, My Lord."

William gave the man a bow as the man stalked off, before he bent down to pick up his shirt. His back screamed at him, making his lips purse a bit. A servant showed up out of nowhere, thankfully, to help him put his shirt and doublet back on. Once he was put back together, he went back to redo an entire page of work that Henry had ruined.

[align=center]***[/align]

Later that night, even after such a thing, as William sat with his back still aching with a dull throb, he could not help but be happy to not be at Althorp. He also could not help but feel very isolated. He wished to like his uncle, and he thought that he could. William had almost enjoyed them sometimes at Althorp when he had first arrived. Not like his grandfather.

So, he took a candle and went to look for his uncle, to give him a show of good faith. The same show of good faith which had not worked on his grandfather in the least. He found the baron in a rather elegant room before a fire, and he cautiously walked in and cleared his throat before giving the man a bow.

"My Lord, might I attend you?" he asked, gesturing with his eyes to the servant in the room. He would be most diligent in doing anything his uncle asked, but the man seemed a bit skeptical and soon queried why.

"Because, I wish to show you my appreciation for having me here and that I am willing to be...devoted...to you as my uncle," he replied, a bit perplexed himself. Usually when boys were sent to live with someone else, family or not, they were expected to do such things. He was sure Denbigh had done the same; William knew that his father had done the same. He was also simply happy to be away from Althorp and his grandfather. Lord Wilmington had been a man William had fast learned to avoid. He was thankful to be with Denbigh, even if the man whipped him, at least William understood.

"And...I grow tired of the conversation of small children, My Lord. I would prefer silence and the presence of another person to it. Should I not wish to share your company. I will go if it displeases you, or if the sight of me displeases you from earlier..."
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Later in the night, after his wife and children went to bed, Edward stood in his drawing room, staring into the fire. It had been a trying day (to say the least, what with getting onto two boys about swearing in French) and he wanted to unwind a little before going to bed, himself. In his hand he clenched a tankard of ale, which he drank out of from time to time.

He was unsure of how long he'd been there until he heard a clearing of the throat. Turning his head, he raised a brow in surprise upon seeing Dorchester standing there. "Dorchester," he nodded at the boy, not bothering with the bow this time.

Attend him? The boy wanted to attend him? This boy, who was going to be of a much higher station in life, and would have far more riches than he, wanted to attend his uncle? Edward eyed him skeptically as he turned to face him more fully. He was silent for a full minute before asking, clearly perplexed, "Why do you wish to attend me?"

Edward drank from his tankard as Dorchester spoke. So William wanted to show appreciation for being here at Denbigh? In a way, that didn't exactly surprise Edward, considering the way his father treated the boy. Little more than a common servant, save that there were times when the servants appeared to have better treatment. "I see," he replied, clearly bemused.

He took another drink of ale as the boy went on. Naturally, he would wish not to spend so much time with smaller children. Edward smiled wryly to himself, remembering what it was like to have Charles traipsing about after him.

The boy's last words, however, made him pause with his tankard halfway to his mouth again. "The sight of you does not displease me ... nephew," Edward finally replied, the faintest hint of smile curling the corners of his lips upward. He turned and nodded toward the servant. "Leave us," he said, and then looked back at William as the servant left. "Very well, you may attend me."

He studied the boy for another full minute, before the smile returned to his lips, this time a little bit wider. "To hear talk of such things almost takes me back to my own childhood," he finally replied, "As your father was a full ten years older than I. I wished so desperately to attend him ... but alas, I did not know him that well."

He returned to staring at the fire. "In fact, I believe I was about the age you are now--perhaps a bit younger--when we actually knew one another, ere he left for France."

He looked up again. "What do you remember of your father, William?"
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William was somehow relieved when Denbigh informed him that the sight of him was not displeasing. The sight of him was surely displeasing to his grandfather. His lips turned up a bit hopefully as the man dismissed the servant and said that he could stay. He set the candle he was holding down on a table, before venturing a bit further into the room and closer to his uncle and the fire. There was a bit of hesitation to it, as if he thought he might get barked at for presuming that was in invitation all the way into the room, nearer the man.

No such barking came. Denbigh was different than his grandfather, more like his father.

He stood there silently as the man looked at him. He was used to those things too. William did not crumble to scrutiny like he did not think well of himself.

A smile crossed his face, a small one, as his uncle spoke of his childhood and having wished to attend his elder brother. He could relate to such sentiment, and it made his uncle seem so real to him, like he was telling him some secret as is father used to do. It was just that much more intimate that Denbigh was speaking of his father.

Then the man asked him a rather deep question, one which made his smile widen briefly in a sad sort of way. William let out a small huff of air and looked at the opposite wall before looking at the flames and walking a bit closer.

"Everything," he replied, his lips curving again for a brief minute. "He used to ride me around Paris on his horse when I was very small. In our house there, he would let me carry this things and pretend to be his little valet. I do not forget anything." He looked back at his uncle's face. "He spent much time with me and spoke to me of here. I think he missed it." William did not see why, and he would likely never understand. "He liked to ride with me and watch me ride..." He trailed off, thinking of their last ride, when they had gone on that fatal hunt. "Althorp reminds me of him..." He paused searching for the words in English. "I do not like it without him...I did not like it when I was little either."

William had been scared of his grandfather when he was very little, and he had often sneaked into his father's bed when they had come to England to visit Althorp.
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward turned slightly, watching as the boy slowly approached him, with an air of hesitancy. Which was to be expected, he supposed, considering that he had laid a birch branch to the boy's back mere hours before. But he hadn't done so out of pure hatred for Dorchester (as he sometimes suspected his father of doing); he had done so because a rule had been broken.

No words were spoken as he studied William thoughtfully, taking a drink from his tankard every so often. The boy had a spine, he'd grant him that much. Not that Edward was trying to weaken the boy by scrutinizing him; he was merely lost in his thoughts for a little while.

He nodded slowly as William began to tell him of Henry. The man described by Dorchester was certainly not the same man that Edward knew; but then again, he supposed that Henry had become a different man once he became a resident of France. "Perhaps he did miss Althorp," the Baron shrugged, "Although I saw nothing to indicate as much. Why would you say he missed it?" He smiled slightly. "But then, as I said before, I was much younger than your father. We led different lives, he and I. He was being groomed to inherit Althorp, whilst I was born and bred to be a soldier." In a way, it was like glimpsing into a brother he never knew. This was certainly a side of Henry he didn't remember ever seeing.

He picked up the tankard, taking a deep drink from it. "You did not like Althorp when you were little? Why not?" That was curious, indeed. He vaguely remembered his brother visiting once, bringing children with him, but the memories were dim. In truth, Henry had probably visited more than that, whilst Edward was away. And Edward had been away almost constantly, once he had turned fifteen and was sent to train with a friend of the family. Shortly after that, he had been sent into war.

However, he was certain that he could understand William's sentiment for not especially liking Althorp now. "Your grandfather is especially harsh on you, is he not?" Edward asked him softly, a rueful look on his face. It was a tragedy that the boy had to bear such anguish, but perhaps in the end, it would make him stronger. Edward could only hope.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
William Spencer
Member Avatar
Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William frowned a small bit when Denbigh seemed surprised at his characterization of his father and what William thought his father missed. He blinked once, thinking hard as his brow wrinkled up a bit.

"He always spoke of England and our loyalty to it...and about the horses...and about loyalty to family." He shrugged a slight bit, "It always seemed he was telling me of it, so I assumed."

Swallowing as his uncle said he was bred to be a soldier, William thought about his own physical limitations. Were it not for that he would have been a soldier one day, were it not that he ended up in this strange position of inheriting on both his father's and mother's side. William had not thought himself destined for all of this, and he really did not have any easy time grasping that this was his permanent home now. That was what they expected of him. This was not supposed to just be something he endured. This was supposed to be his life.

"I think you know the answer to that question, my Lord, and I do not recall the specific circumstances to tell a story about it. I recall a lot of Father being upset and...annoyed...that he was not expected to bring us here, or rather me I think. I do not think Francis and Ellie were old enough. I was afraid and confused, and I stayed with him at night. That is all I remember." He looked towards the fire and lifted a brow as he thought about it, going through images in his head from the past.

His eyes lifted only when his uncle spoke again, "My Lord Grandfather has no...regard? for me. He finds me...a bastardization? My uncle of Guise was harsh. I do not understand. I did not wish for him to die. I do not think he would have wished this either." William had a very good idea that his father would not have liked this in the least, for his son to be treated this way. His father had always taught him to see himself with worth, strength, and merit.
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
Edward Spencer
Member Avatar
Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Turning from the fireplace, Edward folded his arms in front of him, cupping his elbows as the boy spoke. He managed a small smile as it struck him that perhaps his brother hadn't been such a different man in France, after all. "Ah, the Spencer family edict," he smiled at Dorchester. "Undying loyalty to country and family, and of course to the horses, our livelihood."

He looked down at the floor, then back to the fire, and finally at Dorchester. "You would do well to remember those words, nephew," he nodded, "As you will certainly hear them over and over, whether they come from myself, my brother, or your grandfather."

Edward let out a long, low sigh. "William, I was away when you came to Althorp, so I cannot say for sure how it was for you then. I suppose I thought that perhaps it would have been better for you, with your father about." After all, he didn't remember hearing his father spouting off at length about Henry's second marriage when the man had still been alive ... but then, he'd been preoccupied with other matters. In fact, he really didn't remember his brother visiting.

The silence between them grew heavy, and Edward looked back to the fire again. "I fear that what you speak is the truth," he said quietly, at last. "For I believe that your grandfather blames you for the death of your father." He shrugged. "But if this is God's will, then so be it. I am sure He has a reason to make you suffer so. However, I do not plan to add to your misery, so perhaps you might be able to rest a bit easier."

He couldn't say for sure how long he spent, talking with his nephew ... but he was also certain that at the end of the conversation, they each had a better understanding of the other. That, at least, was a start for the both of them, yes?


[CLOSED]
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
[/align]
Offline Profile Goto Top
 
« Previous Topic · In the Past Graveyard · Next Topic »
Locked Topic