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What. is. this?; Spencers
Topic Started: Apr 21 2011, 07:56 PM (282 Views)
John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
Sir John Spencer had not seen that very much of his new nephew, but the boy had arrived at Steward House two days before, so he was sure to see more of him now. His father had wanted to see the boy's progress and see to him of his own accord for a time. John did not bet that would last long; on the contrary, John thought it not likely to last more than a fortnight or two. The boy's tutors had been sent with, and he was supposed to spend his days in their house outside London on that Thames. John's father had no desire for him to be anywhere near court, nor near anyone from court for the most part.

The boy really had not seemed that bad to him when he had seen him at Althorp. His father surely seemed to greatly dislike the boy, though. John could say, the accent grated on his nerves.

Returning to the house after his duties were over, John called out for the boy, figuring that he could see more for himself what the lad was about.

He was rather annoyed when he did not get a response. The servants had not told him the boy had gone anywhere, so he climbed the stared and walked in the door to the boy's chambers, to which the door was slightly open.

While Sir John was far from what would be called an overly empathetic man, he was hardly expecting to see what he saw when he stalked in there.

"God's Blood," he let out in his disbelief, blinking for a moment at the sight of Dorchester holding his shirtsleeve against the side of his head. From the blood going town the arm, staining the white linen, John might have thought he had fallen off a horse and smashed his head; however, he knew that was not the case. He knew his father had lost his temper and had probably whacked the boy over the head with his walking cane; God knew, the man had threatened it often enough. Putting his hands on his hips, he stared for a moment. This was not how he had envisioned his day. Would his father treat Thomas like this if he was dead? God's blood, this was no way to treat Henry's little French boy. John might not like that the boy was half-French, but he could admit that it was no fault of the boy's. He seemed Spencer enough to John.

"Courtesy of your grandfather, Dorchester?" he asked, quirking a brow as the boy nodded. "Get up, let me help you."

John got him up off the floor, rather surprised that he did not hear a word from the boy, who had to be in some pain from the look on his face and intermittent twitch here and there.

"I, I need you to put my shoulder to right, sir," William said, as his uncle grabbed his left arm with the blood-soaked sleeve and sat him on the bed. "You...you have to bend it...at the elbow...and then rotate it back behind my head...and press it toward the other shoulder...until it pops...back in." He had long since really rather lost sight of how much it hurt, only that he felt very cold and was not thinking straight. His head hurt very much.

There was growing disbelief in John. Perhaps old age was not agreeing with his father. Perhaps it agreed with the man so poorly that a future he had never anticipated or planned for was coming to be a painful reality? People died. It happened. His father was always so thwarted when things did not go as planned; he was such a master at manipulating people, a true courtier and politician. Dorchester was bearing the brunt of the culmination of misfortunate circumstances.

"All right," he took a breath himself, and bent the boys arm and then rotated it back behind the boy's head as Dorchester stifled what likely could have been a horrible yell that turned into a muffled and inward wail of pain by sheer will alone. He heard and felt the pop, and the boy sucked in a loud breath, nodding his head as if to say he was all right.

Sir John supposed that, in comparison, he must feel measures better, but his sleeve and under his arm was drenched in blood from a gasp to the scalp, above and just behind the boy's ear.

"Why did you not have one of the servants help you, Dorchester," he said, before he stood and yelled down the stairs for someone to bring him water and supplies.

William barely kept himself from screaming as his dislocated shoulder was wrenched back into place. He sucked in deep breaths, the pain finally assuaged into a dull but insistent throb that most would have qualified as very painful. In comparison to what it felt like out of place, it was a great reduction in pain.

"He...forbid them from helping me." He replied, as his uncle called for supplies.

The man was obviously not sure what to make of this, and William was not sure what to make of that. He did not know this uncle as well.


Sir John held in his disgust and merely pursed his lips as Dorchester said his grandfather had just left him to suffer. Sir John did not even wish to know what the boy had done, because he did not wish to betray to the boy how agitated he was that this had happened. It was not like it was easy to disagree or argue with his father over Dorchester, not his place in the least, but he could not stomach this. He would not want to gain anything or for Edward to gain anything from killing this boy. God's Blood. He could barely understand this, but he was not sure how he could ignore it and just allow his father to...brutalize the boy.

When a servant came into the room, he took a blade and cut some of the hair away from the gash behind the boy's ear before wiping it clean. Before too long, he would have the head wrapped and a hat on the boy's head covering most of it and holding it in place as well.

He heard footsteps on the stairs as he was finishing with the gash and preparing to wrap it up. Recognizing Edward's cadence from the lack of cane-plunking, John called out, "Edward, come in Dorchester's rooms!"
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
A sense of unease had fallen over Edward Spencer, a strapping warrior of a man who was nearly eight and twenty, ever since he had come to Steward House in London two days earlier.

And why was this, one might ask? Well, quite plainly, he knew that he was going to be under his father's intense scrutiny. Normally, this wasn't an issue for the Baron Denbigh, as said father was proud of him for the most part. Or, at least, had been proud of him for the most part. No, what made him uneasy was the fact that William, his half-French nephew, had been staying with him for a few months. Whilst Edward found the boy to be likeable, going so far as to treat the boy as one of his own, he was also aware that the elder Spencer did not seem to agree with that finding. At least, he hadn't agreed with it a few months ago.

Unfortunately, Lord Wilmington didn't seem to agree with that notion even now, some months later. Never mind that Edward had worked hard to correct the boy's accent and speech. Granted, a noticeable trace of the French accent still remained, but at least Dorchester was speaking English on a regular basis now. It had pained Edward to do so, but he had--how should we say?--given the boy extra incentive in the form of a birch branch. And he had been working with Dorchester on his sword fighting skills.

All in all, Edward thought that Wills--as he was coming to think of the boy these days--was coming along nicely.

However, the Lord Wilmington didn't seem to agree with that notion, either. How fortunate for Edward that he'd had business to attend to at court for the past couple of days, so that he didn't have to hang about and listen to the old man's rantings.

He had just returned from court himself, and had headed up the stairs to the rooms that were prepared for him whenever he stayed there, when he heard his brother callling out for him.

"Edward, come in Dorchester's rooms!"

Feeling a knot form in the pit of his stomach, the Baron hurried up the stairs and to Wills' rooms, frowning slightly when he noticed the open door. He had a sense of ill foreboding, and wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to set foot in the room. However, he forced himself to do so.

His eyes widened with shock at the sight that greeted him. Young Dorchester's white linen shirt was stained with blood, and his brother was in the process of wrapping the boy's head with a bandage. Dorchester himself looked white as a ghost, whereas John was on the verge of going red-faced from barely checked fury. To the casual observer, John likely looked as calm as ever, but Edward knew differently.

"Good GOD!" He swore a small string of curses, and strode forward to inspect the boy's head. There was a gash that had clearly been bleeding freely, just recently cleaned up. At first glance, one would think that the boy had fallen, perhaps off his horse. However, given the look on John's face, the cause of this was likely not a fall.

"What happened here?" Edward asked this of nobody in particular, although he had a sinking feeling that he knew. Turning toward his brother, he raised a brow. Why did he have this feeling that this involved his father? He asked John, "And why are you the one wrapping his head?"

Edward was tremendously bothered by that.

"Or should I ask if the old man finally made good on his threat?" He asked his brother quietly. It was almost rhetorical, but Edward had to have it confirmed before anyone did anything rash.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
The boy looked pitiful, John had to admit. Tough kid, apparently, as he'd not seen the boy shed a tear through it. It vexed him on both ends for this to happen. The boy vexed him being half-French, and his own father vexed him for being so absolutely foul. John might only be twenty and four, but he had been on his own with his own wife, since he was perhaps seventeen.

John snorted derisively as Edward swore. What happened? what did it appear had happened? Scowling, he returned his attention to the boy.

"I am wrapping his head because our father left him and ordered the servants not to help him, apparently. I doubt he even stayed long enough to see the damage he did the boy." What other explanation could he fathom? That his father left Dorchester with a gaping wound to his head and a dislocated shoulder? He could not want to think that was the case.

Yes, I believe he made well good on the threat." His voice was clipped as he took the boy's face and tilted it the way he wanted it, without a word, before he started to wrap the boy's head. He pinned it and then nodded, "You will put a hat on and that will help hold it in place."

John put his eyes back on Edward, wondering what he thought of this business. He knew the boy better. Sighing, he looked back at the boy, "Have a servant pack you some things. I was going back to my house in Oxfordshire for a fortnight, and I will take you with to 'attend me' instead of one of the servants if you wish." That is what he would tell his father he was doing; although, he was quite certain he would also be making it plain that he did not agree with what had been done here. "Is your head fit to ride, and your shoulder?"

Of course Dorchester quickly said he wanted to go with John and that he would do whatever he asked for it to be so. Not surprised that the boy was overeager to leave, John nodded. He turned his eyes to Edward, knowing that they were going to have to say something to their father, wishing to know if Edward felt the same way.

"Go for a walk with me Edward?"
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward's face etched itself into a heavy scowl as his brother half-explained the situation. Not that any further explanation was really needed; it was easy for the Baron to infer how Dorchester had come by his head wound. He was unaware that the boy had also suffered a dislocated shoulder, having arrived after the shoulder had been reset. However, the head wound was more than enough damage.

God's blood, he had never laid the boy's skin open once in all the whippings he'd given him over the course of the past few months. Nor had he ever struck him upside the head. And he sure as hell had never ordered his servants not to attend to the boy.

"How ... charitable of him," Edward remarked acidly, watching as John bandaged the head wound. He tilted his head to peer around to Dorchester's face. "Is this true? The servants were ordered not to attend to you?" His voice held undertones of fury, although it was not directed at Wills. Once again, the question was rhetorical more than anything; unfortunately, Edward could easily see his father giving such an order.

His eyes narrowed in anger. "Exactly what was done or said, to anger the old man so?" Knowing his father's ... distaste for the boy, Edward could only imagine what had set him off. It could have been as slight as a hesitation in speech, or perhaps Dorchester had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Either way, he doubted that the boy had done anything truly worthy of such a punishment.

Edward folded his arms against himself, looking down at the floor as John finished the wrapping and gave Dorchester instructions to keep a hat on. He nodded as his brother announced that the boy would be staying with him for a fortnight; it seemed a sound plan to him. Best to get the boy out of Steward House for the time being. He would have offered to take the boy with him when he returned to Denbigh, but he still had court business that would take the rest of the week to finish. And it was clear to him that Wills could not afford to stay here another day.

His head jerked up at the mention of the shoulder. "He dislocated the shoulder, too? God's blood, that was excessive!" His eyes flashed with anger and his jaw clenched, setting his mouth into a thin line. The boy hadn't been handed a punishment, he had been handed a threat on his life. What, had the old man thought he was being robbed?

The look on John's face was unmistakeable to Edward. Clearly, his brother did not agree with this, either. He nodded as he was asked to go for a walk. "Certainly," he replied, falling into step behind his brother as they left the room.

"The old man has surely gone too far this time," he muttered to John as they headed down the hallway. "For God's sake, he is dealing with a mere boy who hesitates with his English, not a damn robber. And it is not the boy's fault that Henry is dead, either. It is time that our father saw that."

Still scowling, he walked along with his brother.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
William held in his wincing while his younger uncle bandaged his head open. His eyes went up to Denbigh as the man's head tilted, taking him in, and asking him if what Sir John said was true.

"Yes, my Lord. At least, that is what I heard him yell ere he left." He reached around and put his hand on his shoulder, grimacing a bit as the bandaging was pinned in place. He licked his lips and sucked in another breath. God's Blood that hurt. "I am not certain, my Lord, but perhaps I was not fast enough to answer him in a way that pleased him. He did not inform me..." The thirteen year old had stopped asking what he had done to his grandfather. That question always met with nothing but fury. He was apparently supposed to know, or guess.

His blue eyes raised up to John, who was sitting on the bed still, the gratitude bounding out of them. "I will serve you very well on the journey, sir, if you take me with you." He promised this nodding and then he added, "My arm will be fine, Sir John. I will take something with me for it. It will not effect me doing what I need to for you." William had never been used to using his arm as an excuse, so he was nearly programed not to ever use it as an excuse. "I will," he nodded, thinking about what he would need to have brought with. Then Denbigh exclaimed about his shoulder being hurt. Dorchester put on a small smile, "It is easier to do than it seems with me, my Lord. He hit me with his cane there and that was enough. It had happened numerous times before." What irked him more was not the pain, because he was used to that, but the fact that he was brought her for naught but to suffer. He would have wished his father's father to be like his father, but it was far from that, and he knew it would never be that.

He was still mostly among strangers.


Sir John walked out with his brother. As he passed a servant, he told them to go help Dorchester pack and that they had not been forbidden from that. It was clear he was not pleased.

"I cannot have this on my conscience Edward," he just burst out with. "That is how he would treat our sons? What if it was you dead, and I stop by and watched that happen to Henry?" He paused and huffed. "This rage is sinful. We should watch it in fear of his wrath? I cannot, I do not think you capable either. The smacks, the whipping, it is not enough, the boy is that stupid, recalcitrant, and incorrigible? He took a cane to the boy's head, he could have killed him."
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward was surprised, and yet he wasn't surprised at Dorchester's revelations. He'd seen how the old man treated the boy, which was little better than a servant. No, wait ... the servants received better treatment.

The scowl on his face deepened further when the reason given for this, was that Dorchester apparently didn't answer the Lord Wilmington fast enough. God's blood, what more did the old man expect? At least the boy had paused to think on his words first, yes? Was that not what Edward had been encouraging all along?

Then again, who knew what it was that had set off the old man? Edward was less than pleased (to say the very least) that his father hadn't even bothered to mention what had angered him so. To the Baron, that meant that the beating hadn't been a lesson so much as it had been an outpouring of the man's rage. And that rather disturbed him. "I see," he muttered through clenched teeth. "So this wasn't a lessoning, this was ..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Fury rose within him, catching in his throat.

He let out a long, disgruntled sigh. "And I am sure that it was no mere tap that he gave you, either," he said to Dorchester. Oh no, he'd wager his estate that the old man had put all he had into swinging that cane, which wasn't exactly light to begin with.


Edward nodded grimly at John's outburst as they headed down the hall. "I should hope that he would never do that to any of our sons," he replied quietly, shaking his head, "But now I am not so sure that he would not do as such. And you are right, I cannot bear to stand by and watch." He sighed, shaking his head again. "Our father seems to have a special hatred for William," he remarked.

He clasped his hands behind his back as they walked. "No, the boy is not stupid, certainly not enough to take a cane to the head. It sickens me, John, to see that William is trying, yet our father cannot seem to see it." He shook his head again. "You speak the truth, brother, this is sinful. No child should be blamed for the death of a parent, and this needs to stop."

He was likely going to end up in hell for what he had just suggested (although it was clear to see that his brother was of a similar mind), but he felt that there were worse sins in the world than to openly question his father's actions. Such as the unnecessary beating of a boy, for example.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
John was not eager to go against his father. It put a burn in his chest. He surely did not want his father's rage to turn to him; although, admittedly, he was more man to take it than Dorchester. The boy was tall and perhaps looked a bit older than his age, but he was thin and lithe.

There was much pain and humiliation one could inflict with a whipping, there was no need to do something this rash and wrong. He did not know Dorchester well, but he could not imagine the boy being that bad, to merit such a thing.

"I do not know what to say. It would be simplest just to say I wish to take the boy with me and hope he does not think much of it. We would never have to address it directly, but another large piece of me just wants to..." he trailed off, noticing his fists had clenched and rose. "I feel we must be compelled to say something. Surely Henry would, were he here, and we none of us are any soft coddlers, but this cannot continue." John heaved a sigh and looked around. He headed toward his own rooms, so that they could speak in more privacy.

"Shall I have any trouble bringing the boy with me?" Dorchester seemed quiet enough. He barely heard the boy speak. He had not noticed any particularly headstrong nature about him. That did not mean much though. Edward had spent some long while with the boy. "I am vexed that he puts us in the situation. I know the boy has many lessons to learn, but there must be a limit. I do not wish to gain anything from the boy's death." He nodded along with Edward. As if he did not have enough other things to be thinking about. THere was always yet another. He had to take responsibility for yet another life.

"Is he trying, Edward?"
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward nodded gravely at his brother's words. "True, that would be the simplest explanation. However ..." he trailed off, a furrow forming in his brow as he mulled things over in his head. Whilst he knew that the boy would likely be spending a large portion his time with either uncle, Edward also knew that there would be times when their father would insist on having Dorchester stay with him for a little while.

"As much as I would prefer that the boy stay with either of us, it will be impossible to keep him from our father at all times," he finished quietly. Such was the truth of the matter, unfortunately. "And I confess, it is those times that the boy must stay here or at Althorp, that worry me so." Perhaps they would need to arrange it so that one of them were with Dorchester at all times? Not that such an arrangement would necessarily ensure the boy's safety, as was shown just moments earlier.

"I believe Henry would have said something," Edward nodded in agreement. "Just as I feel that we should say something to our father. You are right, brother, this cannot continue." He followed John to his rooms, his hands clasped behind his back.

And besides ... if the old man thought to take his cane to him, Edward was certain that he could take his father on, although the thought of having to do that sickened him. How much repenting would he have to do, if he were to strike back at his own father?

Edward stroked his chin thoughtfully. "There will be a little trouble, yes. The boy is still prone to the occasional outburst of French," he remarked. "However, he takes his lessoning silently, and he understood why he was being lessoned. He has been eager to make amends after such lessons. And we even spoke at length later that night, the first time it happened," he continued, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Indeed, he is trying, John," he replied. "The boy is eager to please, and he has made improvements with his English. He will gladly attend you, as well. What the boy needs more than anything is unwavering acceptance, as his French uncle has been ... well, almost as bad as our father, apparently."
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
John sighed. He knew that Edward was right. It was not possible to be around Dorchester constantly, nor keep him away from their father. That would be a temporary solution. Not to mention, John was certainly not one to take the cowardly way out of a situation.

"Yes, I will also worry when the boy is here or elsewhere with our father without us." He looked down as he walked into his rooms and then he leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. He pursed his lips a bit.

As he was listening to Edward speak of the boy, he was having a hard time understanding precisely what his father was expecting. It sounded as if Dorchester was making very good progress.

"He is a good boy then?" he asked, "Why does our father take such issue? It boggles me. Just because he thinks that he can do so?" John frowned a bit. Really, his father could do whatever he pleased. That was precisely it. He had just never done so before. That did not mean he could not do so now. The boy might just have to deal with most of it, but John would stand up to protect the boy's life, as would Edward. "Eager to please? One would think the boy wild and resistant and commonly mannered by father's words. If anything, I think such things would hamper his progress. This confuses me, let alone a boy." He shook his head, shifting his weight onto one foot. He really did not want his father angry at them, but he knew that it was what was right to do by God. "What do you mean unwavering acceptance?"
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward nodded in agreement with his brother, but said nothing further until they entered John's rooms. What they were speaking of, was best discussed behind closed doors as opposed to out in the open where the servants (or perhaps, even, their father) could overhear. Although he wouldn't be surprised if the servants' tongues were already wagging in regards to events less than an hour ago.

He stood for mere minutes before he began slowly pacing back and forth, a habit he'd acquired when he was still a boy but on the verge of manhood, whilst speaking of the boy.

Edward paused, mid-step. "He is certainly no worse than any of our boys, nor any worse than either of us have been in our childhood. He is still a boy, and is wont to do things that any boy would do, make no mistake of that." He smiled slightly, and continued pacing. "He is not perfect by any means, no, but he is a good boy."

However, he frowned at his brother's next question. "I cannot say for certain, brother," he replied, "But I believe that our father sees only the fact that our eldest brother is dead when he looks at William. He despises the French on principle, and I believe he blames the boy for Henry's death. After all, have we not heard that Henry died saving him? In our father's eyes, Henry should have spared himself and let William die. And I believe that he finds the boy to be an embarrassment, perhaps even scandalous."

Edward went back to pacing. "He is not a dullard, as our father would have us think. Yes, he has trouble with the English language, but he has made progress there. It is not something that can be corrected overnight, regardless of what our father might think. A shade stubborn, perhaps, and he does have a temper ... but what Spencer doesn't?" He let out a low, small laugh that was devoid of humor.

He nodded at his brother. "Unwavering," he confirmed. "He is afraid of our father, and has always been so. I believe our father was less hateful to the boy when Charles was still alive and heir to everything of our father's. William and I have spoken at length, brother, and he has told me of how he feels, of all that he has left behind in France. He does not feel welcome here, and methinks he fears that we do not want him or accept him. He is but a boy, after all, who has lost his father--who meant a lot to him--at a young age." He paused. "And he has already told me that he prefers Denbigh to Althorp, so that is quite telling in itself."

Edward went back to pacing. "Anything else you wish to know? And do you still feel--as I do--that we need to confront our father?"
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
The picture that Edward was painting was somewhat surprising to John. It seemed that Edward rather liked the boy. That thought made John quirk his dark brow a bit. It was highly likely for him to like Dorchester as well, then. He could deal with a boy being a boy; he would have the boy whipped and move on. Just like he would for one of his own sons. He could understand such things. He had been wicked when he was a child and done them too. God instructed that loving parents disciplined their children to rid them of this wickedness and to make a better life for them. John simply did not want the boy's head knocked off his shoulders or his eyes popped out. His father could have had the boy whipped until the skin started to give way, and that took some long while with a proper birch, and John would have had little to say.

"And he takes a whipping as he did at Althorp? That was not a few weeks of courage that gave way to whining or fighting?" John's eyebrows went up as he pieced together all the information he was gaining from Edward. It made him shake his head in disgust more. How God tested a man!

It was sinful to go against one's father, but was not what his father was doing to Dorchester a worse sin.

"Edward, that is ridiculous if that is his notion! Do you not see it as I do? I mean, Henry died for that boy. If our father harms the boy, Henry died for nothing. For no reason. If that is the case, should he not care for the boy very much? That is the last best thing left of Henry, what Henry wanted left after him, and father would rage at him and perhaps kill him?" John scoffed and started pacing, for once mirroring his restless elder brother. "He is not an embarrassment if no one sees him but the family, which is mostly the case so far. He might well be both those things if he was at court, but he is a boy of what? Thirteen. It is to his disadvantage he looks a bit older and taller." John could imagine it would be easy to forget that Dorchester was not really even a youth, for as tall as he was, but that he was a boy.

As Edward spoke further, John stopped moving, listening to his brother. Well, it seemed Edward talked to the boy at length about many things. At Althorp, Dorchester had seemed very quiet and exceedingly careful of being very mannerly -- John had thought perhaps that happened because his father had beat the boy shortly after he had arrived for addressing Edward wrongly. However, it did not seemed to be that Dorchester had been momentarily cowed. Perhaps Henry, or France, had taught the boy something.

"Well at least I will have no great trouble with him as he seems easy to task and to correct, from what you have said. It seems you have taken to him a great deal. I admit, I think he must have been very close with Henry. I was here over that time they visited. I did not pay much mind then, I was too intent on impressing my masterful eldest brother, but looking back on that, I do think he was a very doting father." John looked down, pursing his lips, thinking about that. His son was nearly the age William had been when his father had been killed. John felt very keenly about Thomas. He wondered what his sentiments would be if he shared roof with his son constantly as Henry had or at least that is what he deduced based on conversations with his brother. Then to think that the son you put such careful work and attentions into could be ruined by your own father, who should take great care for him?

It was not a picture John liked. He had never had a thought of his father quite like this. The man was strict and practical, but he was not coldly indifferent or hotly furious as John had seen the man with Dorchester.

"No, we must say something."
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
"I believe that the boy always takes his whippings that way," Edward replied. "At the very least, I have yet to see any other reaction. I also suspect, brother, that he has taken his fair share of whippings whilst living in France."

Not that he could blame John for looking at him with what appeared to be disbelief. Edward would have had a difficult time believing it himself, had he not seen firsthand. Dorchester was certainly more stoic than one might think.

He resumed his slow pacing, the heels of his boot making the sounds of dull, heavy clicks on the floor. "I cannot say for certain if that is truly what our father thinks," he replied, shaking his head slowly. He lifted his head to level his gaze at his brother. "Although I suspect the fact that Dorchester is half-French has something to do with it. Truth be told, I imagine that the old man does not like the notion of Spencer wealth falling into the hands of the French. To me, as long as the boy ensures that the Spencer fortune remains in England and is loyal to His Majesty, then it makes no difference who his mother was." Shrugging, he continued to pace back and forth.

"Of course I see it as you do, brother," he added. "Dorchester is suffering greatly and for no good reason." He paused mid-step, and moved to a standing position, hands clasped his back. "He is a likable boy, John. Were it not for the accent, he would easily be considered a Spencer, loyal to the core--that much can be seen in the way he acts with his brother--and he carries about with him a certain ... sense of nobility, I suppose. He knows his place, at least he knows it when he is at Denbigh with me. I believe it would be the same whilst he stays with you."

As far as Edward was concerned, William was worthy of the title of Wilmington. All he needed was a little more ... grooming, not whacks to the head with a heavy cane.

He nodded at his brother's words. "Indeed, we must speak with him as soon as possible."
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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John Spencer
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Captain of the Yeomen of the Guard
It made little difference to John either. So long as the boy was loyal to his family and His Majesty, it was no large concern. Edward seemed to approve of the lad, and John found that he agreed with Edward more often than not. John had also been the youngest, so he was very used to seeing how Edward dealt with something before he ever had to. John had also learned not to do a few things by seeing what happened to Edward. There were benefits to being younger, but all of them were trumped by the things that made being the third son not so desirable.

"It makes no difference to me either so long as he is loyal to us as well."

That was rather a given, but John wished to voice it out loud. It would be true. One day, they would all have to be unified.

"Likable, that is high praise from you, Edward," John said with a bit of a chuckle. "A sense of nobility?" he let out a scoff-like snort and shook his head. "High praise indeed...Then I am sure I will not regret offering to take him with instead of one of the actual servants." John and Edward were very similar in many ways; at least, they were in what angered them and awoke their tempers. If Edward felt the boy acted well then John would expect no differently, younger and untitled or not. The boy was still a boy and his nephew, and he had best mind himself, or he would find Sir John to be equally as free with having the boy whipped as his brother had been.

Hearing movement downstairs, John's eyebrow quirked up. The familiar cadence with the walking stick signaled that their father had arrived back home. The immediate bark of "Dorchester!", made John start for the door to his rooms. "As in right now," John said. When he arrived in the upstairs hallway, he put a hand up at the boy who had (God bless him) actually thought to be dutiful and answer the call despite everything. "Stay up here, and do not come down unless Edward or I send for you." He gave he boy a serious look, "We are about to stick our necks out for you, Dorchester, and you had best not forget, boy." As in not for the entire length of his God-given life, because John could very well put himself in the worst position by doing this for the boy, for possibly the boy's life. Their father's temper was assuredly getting far worse with age.
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