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Left behind yet again...; Uncle Eddie
Topic Started: Sep 9 2011, 09:34 PM (374 Views)
Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward nodded, his face grim as Wills explained that Wilmington's concern with the gambling had to do more with the boy's possession of coin. Somehow, it didn't exactly surprise him that it had to do with coin; it seemed as though his father was forever concerned with coin these days. Probably too lavish with it in other ways, the Baron surmised to himself. Having been raised and trained to fight, he had learned how to not live quite so lavishly. And it likely helped that he had a surprisingly good head for numbers.

Well ... that, and as mentioned before, he was a rather successful gambler. All in all, he was surprisingly well off, and not teetering on the edge of excessive debt.

"For some reason, that surprises me not, Wills," he replied, as they continued to ride on. He was rather uncomfortable with the way his father treated the boy, which was why he had no qualms with--how did Wills put it? Ah, yes--sinning against the man. Not that he was exactly sinning, the way he saw it--which was what he explained to the boy.

He smiled wryly at Dorchester's concern that he would be the cause of any problem. "All the more reason for us to proceed with caution," he replied. "At least, for your sake." Edward paused for a moment. "You are not the cause of any problems. I take this upon myself, because 'tis the least I can do to right a wrong." Well ... that, and he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be brought to task. Taking a moment to think back on his misdeeds, it appeared as though he'd actually gotten away with quite a bit during his youth. A small grin overtook his features when the boy agreed that they were, on the surface, heeding Wilmington's wishes. "Indeed we are."

They continued to ride on, Edward in relative silence whilst Wills went on about rewards and the like. "In the end, 'twill be God who has the final say," he replied. "But I would like to think that I will have done enough penance to be set right by Him." Really, there were times when the word of God was rather confusing to Edward.

"But I should like to think that I do this with purpose other than for myself," he continued. Which likely didn't make much sense, but the Baron had never really been one for words and philosophy. "And in truth, I find much that is confusing, myself." Which was very much the truth, and likely part of why he had little patience for politics.

"You are here because you are the heir to Wilmington," Edward replied. "And you will be rewarded in the end. And there are other political reasons, I imagine, that have much to do with your being half-French." Oh, he was certain that were many other reasons, which he'd never really bothered to understand thoroughly. All he knew was that Wills becoming heir of Wilmington had much to do with his receiving his Barony. Which had been a total surprise to him, when it had happened.

Soon the tavern came into view, and Wills asked for money. "Certainly I plan to stake you," he replied. "I feel that I shall win it back before the night is over, anyway." That much, he was quite confident of. The Baron then quirked a brow at Dorchester. "But what other ways did you have in mind, to make it up to me?"

Dismounting, he grinned at his nephew. "Well, then, nephew ... let us go see how badly you play cards, yes?"
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
Other than with his uncles and various other relations, everything was confusing to him about England and always had been. Even when he had first arrived long ago, the expectations of him had never been explained by the Spencer patriarch. He was punished for little reason and never once had his grandfather praised him by any measure unless it was for show to an audience. Only when certain others were around was Dorchester treated well by the old man. He had never felt conflicted or worried about his behaviour before England. He had known what he was to do and what would happen if he did not; he always tries to obey his betters and, of course, God. Here, he was torn between his rationalizations which told him that doing wrong to escape the wrong being done to him was not evil and knowing that doing wrong regardless of the reasons was sinful. All of his decisions were now confusing like that.

William shrugged when his uncle told him that he would be Wilmington one day and that he would be rewarded in the end. He did not wish to seem ungrateful. "I did not have to come here," he replied, "I made a choice to come to honour my father and that is the only reason why I am still here." He shrugged, one day he would be Duke of Nemours and hold more titles than the English nobles could clamor about to attain. He did not need to be here, and if he had no assented, Nemours would never have made him. He did this because he thought it was what God was asking for him to do, and because he thought that he should do it for his father. William was his father's son. He had adored him, and he had never forgotten what the man had done to save his life. He owed that much, how could he be selfish after that?

"Nothing will ever be simple, because I am half-French," he muttered. As the tavern came into view, William informed his uncle that he had no money. The smile spread over one side of his face, impishly.

"You are that good, my Lord? Perhaps you can help me to improve. I think if when I had a good hand, I had more money to bet, I would not simply lose. Not that I could ask Lord Wilmington for more money to make my gambling odds better..." He dismounted and handed his horse off to a boy. "What other ways, my Lord? That is for you to tell me, Uncle. In whatever sort of a way you might wish; I am at your command. Do the English commonly make such negotiations with their children? I am generally used to being told what I will do, not asked." He let out a bit of a chuckle and walked into the place. The smell was so horrendously a tavern. He had stuck an orange in his pocket to try and stave off the smell. He would hold it in front of his nose if it got too bad. He had also doused a bit of his sleeve in sage oil.

"I shall fetch you a large tankard of ale, my Lord," he said, rather brightly. With two brimming mugs which looked far more like pitchers, Dorchester found his uncle toward the back wall. He held out the tankard to him and gave him a nod.
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward's smile tightened ever so slightly when his nephew went on about only being here to honour his late father, Edward's brother. Naturally. To be quite honest, there were times when the Baron tired of hearing of all that Wills had given up over in France, in order to live here in England. In truth, there were times when he thought that perhaps Wills should simply go back to France.

Which made him feel guilty for thinking such sinful and disloyal thoughts. Still, it didn't quite stop him from muttering quietly under his breath, "Ever the martyr." Perhaps he was a twinge disgruntled that his nephew would question his motives for being disloyal to his father. Granted, it wasn't necessarily the right thing to do, but to Edward, it seemed the only option. Talking to the Lord Wilmington certainly hadn't helped the situation.

"Then whilst you are here, I shall do what I can to see that you at least remain alive," he scowled lightly at his nephew, "Which I do out of duty to my late eldest brother." The saintly Henry Spencer, whom Edward had named his firstborn after.

Was it his imagination, or had Wills just muttered something under his breath? Edward chose to ignore it, and simply rode on whilst they discussed plans for what to do, once they got there. Which was simple, really. They were going to play cards and get drunk. And apparently Wills was going to lose a vast amount of money, which Edward was going to win back.

"We shall see," he shrugged when his nephew mentioned that perhaps his gambling problems were related to a distinct lack of money. Sometimes, it wasn't necessarily about how much money was available for betting, not that Edward was going to point that out right now. Not when Wills was questioning him yet again.

"You were the one who mentioned other ways, Wills," he pointed out, dismounting from his horse. "I simply know not of what other ways you know, which is why I asked. And no, it is not customary for we English to negotiate with our offspring about such things ... but may I also point out that you are not my offspring, but my future Lord?" He arched a brow at the boy.

"For now, we shall stick to cards," he said, rather firmly as they entered the tavern. Soon, he was seated at a table, with Wills having brought over a couple of tankards of ale. Within minutes, Edward had waved over a couple of his friends, knights whom he had served with, and the game was on.

*****
Hours (and several tankards) later, it was a somewhat drunken Edward who left the tavern and got on his horse. Clearly, Wills was not much of a gambler, and as far as Edward could see, it had little to do with the size of the bets being placed. The boy had lost everything that the Baron had loaned him; luckily, Edward had been able to win most of it back. Most of it, that was. Tonight had been one of those rare nights that Edward had walked out lighter in pocket than he'd had entering the tavern. Thank God he hadn't given all his money to the boy, otherwise he'd be a pauper.

"I believe," he declared, his words slurring a little, "That you should stay away from cards. Unless 'tis to play a little strip poker with a lady for favours." He laughed raucously. "At least I can relay that you are no gambler, Wills. I shall keep that in mind should I wish to win easily." He laughed out loud again.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
Dorchester deflated slightly as his uncle scowled at him. He looked away and then down, pretending to find interest in something while the man's words cut through him. He did not know what to say and as he usually did, he simply said nothing. It was something he reverted back to out of habit now, having long grown accustomed to extreme silence from his grandfather punishing him for most anything that could come out of his mouth. William had felt it safe to say what he felt to his uncle, but sometimes he felt the man had little patience for him as well and understood him very little, even if he tried.

William did not understand that the man would joke with him and verbally empathize with him and conspire against his grandfather's treatment of him, yet he did not seem to wish to ever hear France mentioned either. It was either that or there was a definite gap in their understanding of each other. Despite as long as he had been in England, he had never grown used to it.

"You were the one who mentioned other ways, Wills. I simply know not of what other ways you know, which is why I asked. And no, it is not customary for we English to negotiate with our offspring about such things ... but may I also point out that you are not my offspring, but my future Lord?"

He shrugged, "I do not understand...You grow displeased with me and...exasperated perhaps...over the respect and duty that I show you as my uncle, that my lord grandfather demands that I show you as well. I am not of age, do not have my own household, have not been received by the king, and do not have a father. Whomever of the family I am with is master of me, my Lord, or whomever I am sent to..." He replied, frowning in confusing that he would have to expound upon the idea of 'offspring' not merely encompassing the biological sort. That was his failure of word-choice but he would have thought his uncle would have followed. Men did not ask their children and servants what they could do; they told them what they would do, and if they could not, well, it was up to them to remedy that or ask forgiveness for being inadequate. William did not understand all this exchange. He liked feeling understood and cared for, but he preferred the expectations of his life to be very black and white and laid out for him like was usual. Part of the weight of offering a repayment in service was in not knowing what the repayment terms would be. It just showed good faith and obedience, and that filial care and reverence he was supposed to have for his elder male family.

That was what he was thinking about as they walked into the tavern. Soon the large tankards of ale and cards were out. True to his word his uncle gave him a sum to play with, and thankfully the man managed to win most of it back. William had little prayer of doing well with cards for as much ale was going around. In this circle, it seemed whomever could hold the most of the bitter liquid and stay of right mind enough to play, won. William being smaller than most these men in muscle and sheer size, even though he was a tall boy, did not have a chance.

As he stumbled out with his uncle, his brain could not even grasp the fact that he would probably stink of liquor the next day even if a chambermaid scrubbed him raw.

A scrub by a chambermaid in some nice hot water sounded rather nice right about now.

"I think...I think I should stay away from that foul, piss warm bitter fluid the...the...the...landlord, yes, the landlord...calls ale." He tried to get his foot in his stirrup and the boy actually had to hold it for him as he heaved himself up into his saddle as took his reins squinting his eyes. "Betting with clothing, my lord, is the only way that I win either way!" He let out a belch and then turned up his own nose. "I think the stench of...of...of that." He pointed backward to the tavern, "Has soaked in our very hide. We stink." Only William would notice such a thing when drunk. He had a fine nose and had certainly not been raised rolling about the mud and filth. "You should help me to..to improve myself...at cards." His head felt like it was going to pop off as they started riding back to Steward house. He felt like he could hear the hooves thundering across his brain.
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward let out a sigh at his nephew's apparent confusion. Truly he had not intended for this conversation to take such a downward turn, but he was a bit frustrated with Wills for questioning his actions. Granted, he could have merely told the boy to just buck up and take it, except that ... well, as badly as Lord Wilmington belittled the boy, the Baron had thought to attempt to show the boy a little of the respect that he deserved. At the very least, he wanted the boy to know a little of the respect and deference that he would receive, once he assumed the title of Wilmington.

He stood with arms folded as he arched a brow at his nephew, but his expression softened slightly. "Perhaps not," he conceded when given the multitude of reasons for why he should simply order the boy about, "And indeed, I realize that whomever you are with, is your master. At least, 'tis how it normally works." He paused, allowing a small, wry half-smile to appear on his face. "'Tis simply that I feel at times as though you are testing me, questioning my every move. And lest you forget, I am conducting an investigation, here. If you speak of knowing other ways to gamble, then 'tis my duty to learn what those other ways are. After all, I cannot stand watch over you every day, every hour."

Clearly, it hadn't occurred to Edward that perhaps he had simply and completely misunderstood his nephew, as his mind had been on gambling. He paused again, arching the eyebrow once more. "Or did you not offer to make up the loss of my coin in other ways?" As mentioned before, the notion that perhaps Wills had been speaking of something else altogether did not cross his mind.

Soon, however, the discussion ended as they reached the tavern. Edward had grown accustomed to the overall stench of the place, so it didn't bother him nearly as much as it bothered Wills (not that Edward necessarily noticed that it bothered his nephew terribly), but it was still noticeable to him. And the rest of the evening flew by almost in a flash, with Edward taking mental note of Wills' horrible card playing.

As the two of them bobbled and wove back and forth on their way out of the tavern, Edward let out a chuckle as they struggled to mount their horses. "You are too delicate," he declared as the horses set out for Steward House. "Some of the best fighting men can be found in places such as those ... and as for the ale, I confess that 'tis not quite the best ale ... but I've had worse." He shrugged, and then let out another laugh. "Indeed, we do stink. We should pause for a quick dip in the river on the way home ..." Probably the smartest thing to do, come to think of it. "Or perhaps we should have baths ordered up as soon as we reach home." Another raucous laugh. "There are a number of ways to rid oneself of the stench, Wills. And we shall use them all, if necessary." Whatever those various ways were, actually he hadn't much a clue at the moment. He was more concerned with getting home and into his bed.
[align=center]Bio :: Plot

Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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William Spencer
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Lord Winchester (courtesy)
William blinked at his uncle. It was quite clear that they had not been understanding each other properly. Did the man think he was questioning him as in questioning his authority and his action? That was hardly the purpose of his questions.

"My Lord, I think you misunderstand me, and it must be with the way that I speak English or something of the like. I do not question you in that way; I would readily obey anything you ask of me without question..." He paused, "But when we are discussing things in this way, it is my purpose to learn from your logic and experience, so that I understand things, not to question you, it is to question myself." He shook his head, letting out a frustrated sigh. Sometimes, his young mind really could not handle the magnitude of the things that were going on in his life. He did not have tutors anymore to ask. So in his mind he was paying his uncle a great respect by asking him for his reasonings so that William could understand and so that he could quell his fears that what he was doing was very sinful.

"I ask a question so that you can tell me the way that things are, or I voice what I think so that you can tell me if it is right or wrong. I cannot just do that with anyone, my Lord." He certainly could not with his grandfather. He would get smacked for his trouble of speaking too many words. Or something as preposterous.

***

"Well we both know I cannot be a fighting man, Uncle, so it is not a fair contest," he said with drunken logic. Then he frowned at his uncle's further words. Perhaps sometimes, he was not he best man to listen to...

"My Lord, I...I confess...I think we shall drown if...let to your...devices...For one...me...I'll...let someone watch...me to make sure I do not die." He held up a hand as if it solidified the statement.

The blur of the night made it a near miracle that young Dorchester made it back with his uncle that night. Apparently a strong portion of riding was ingrained in Spencers, a natural inborn talent requiring no mind or awakeness at all. He imagined he had slept the entire way home and was quite confused and disoriented when his horse stopped, and his stomach hit the pommel of his saddle.

That smarted.

"God's Blood. If I had not sinned before, I surely have now," he said, and it was hard to tell if he was lamenting or laughing.

"I need a hot bath, and a very pretty chambermaid..." And he needed to sober up, or Edward was going to have to make excuses for him in the morning. It was an eventuality his brain could not even stick on.
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Edward Spencer
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Earl of Berkshire/Baron Denbigh
Edward paused, blinking twice whilst he frowned slightly. Wills was questioning him for purposes of learning? That was certainly a novel concept to the Baron. He wasn't used to being questioned in such a manner, certainly not from his children ... or any of his multitude of nieces and nephews.

The silence hung thick and heavy in the air between them as Edward pondered on this. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad thing, then, if the boy was merely wishing to learn. "I see," he finally nodded slowly. "In which case, I say ask away, then."

And that was all he had to say on the subject, as the alehouse was beckoning to him.


How in God's name they managed to make it home, considering the state that they were in, Edward couldn't really say. Not that he'd ever really stopped to think about how the horses seemed to intuitively know the way home. Nor had he ever really stopped to think about his riding skills, especially in such a state. To him, riding was almost akin to breathing, much as it seemed to be for nearly any member of the Spencer family.

He laughed raucously when Wills protested that a dip in the river might not be the best idea. "Well, now ... we certainly can't have that, can we?" He laughed again and let out a belch. "Then a bath it shall be, and no dip in the river." No, no drownings today, thank you very much.

As for the declaration on sinning, Edward laughed again. "Then we shall kneel side by side as we do penance for the sins we have committed tonight, nephew." A foolish grin appeared on his face as they staggered their way to the house, and he stumbled and fell to the ground. "A quick roll about in the grass should help to lose some of the stench of the alehouse," he remarked, "Before we enter the house. And call for baths."

Which he had every intention of doing.

After a few moments of lying in the grass, Edward slowly staggered to his feet. "Let us go and call for our baths," he declared. And that was precisely what he did, as soon as he entered the house.


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Edward is now Jure Uxoris ("By right of his wife") Earl of Berkshire, or Lord Berkshire
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Isabel Leigh
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Virtue alone is invincible.
This thread has been archived either due to forwarding of board timeline or because of a month of inactivity. If you would like to continue, please PM an Admin!
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Isabel is in 8 threads and can has more!
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