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Something Called Love

Chapter 13

Jonathan and Duke Richard spent most of the afternoon and part of the evening yelling at each other. The duke was furious that his son had been cast from yet another expensive school and yelled from behind his desk, while Jonathan - a young replica of his father - yelled from in front of the desk.

They were in the study on the east wing of the estate, a room in which Duke Richard had often come to take refuge in the last twenty or so years. He sat behind the desk in a dark green coat with gold trim and a matching gold cravat. His long red mane was pulled back in a tail, but the front was mussed and in his eyes from constantly running a paw through it. He dipped his quill and continued to scribble, an irritated frown settling deep on his brow.

The young marquis paced back and forth, face twisted, trying to ignore how miserable Charles looked as he sat by the window with a kerchief. It was still raining outside. In fact, it was thundering. Rain and thunder always made Charles sad. Jonathan and Duke Richard screaming was only making him feel worse.

But Jonathan couldn't help himself. Just looking at his father always gave him the urge to scream. He had been silently screaming since he was small "PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" Charles had already accused him once of portraying bad behavior just to get Duke Richard's attention. He couldn't pretend it wasn't half-true.

Jonathan half-wished Elsie was there. Much as he loathed her, her presence always comforted him whenever he and his father were at odds: it was nice to feel as if someone was on his_side. Haskell was there, but he never took anyone's side. He was too clever for _that. He skulked uncomfortably behind Duke Richard's chair. He was a large Great Dane with a lazy air and a long face who had been serving Duke Richard since they both were boys. He stood holding a stack of papers the duke was in the process of signing and stuffing into envelopes. Duke Richard had planned yet another party in yet another attempt to scrape together a few shreds of dignity - the same dignity Charles wished for Jonathan to restore to the family by marrying "proper." But no one ever came to Duke Richard's parties. And if they did, they came to gossip, snicker, eat free food, and shake their heads in disapproval at everything they saw in the manor.

"This is my punishment, isn't it?" Duke Richard said and tossed a wretched paw at Jonathan. "My punishment for being a right git to my mother --"

"Stop calling me a punishment," Jonathan snapped and folded his arms.

Duke Richard shook his head. "Sometimes the truth hurts, boy. And you cause me nothing but pain. Right in my ass --"

"I told you, Richard," Charles interrupted, "that he would get bored at that school and get into mischief. But you sent him anyway."

"Don't defend his behavior, Charlie!" Duke Richard returned, looking at Charles in amazement. He shook his head again and folded yet another invitation. "This is why he acts this way. Because you mother-smother him."

Charles scowled. "How _dare_you. It is not mother-smothering. It's called love. Love, Richard!"

Duke Richard shook his head and didn't look up from his desk. Which he always did when Charles was right and he was wrong.

"What does it matter?" Jonathan demanded. "You can't punish me anymore than you already have, Father. You sent Ben away. You froze my assets. Why don't you just neuter me and call it a day?"

"Rein in that tone, boy," Duke Richard said without looking up.

Jonathan scowled. "Or what?"

The duke went still, slowly rolling his glaring eyes up to his son. "I'll rein it in for you."

Jonathan's chest heaved. "I hate you!" he burst.

Duke Richard sighed. He sat back and gestured for Haskell to fill his glass. "And here I thought you'd outgrown such outbursts."

Haskell set down the papers and lifted the decanter. He had filled the glass when Charles came across the room, and with tight lips, snatched it from the desk and set it on the mantle. He turned to the duke and leaned across the desk to look at him.

"Your son is reaching out to you," Charles said. "Listen to him." He looked in the duke's eyes a long time, and Jonathan saw his father's eyes - so fiery with anger a moment before - slowly relent.

Duke Richard nodded guiltily. He gestured at Haskell. "Leave us, Haskell. We can finish this later."

"Aye, m'lord," the servant muttered and seemed only too happy to escape the room.

Charles left as well, but as he went, he rubbed Jonathan on the shoulder and smiled at him. "Your father loves you, Jonny," he whispered. "He's just . . . very bad when it comes to showing it."

Charles quietly closed the door behind him, and Jonathan realized with a jolt that he was alone with his father. For the first time in a long time. He swallowed unhappily and watched as Duke Richard rose wearily from the desk.

The duke suddenly seemed awkward and uncertain and not the hard, angry, bellowing father Jonathan had come to know. And for the first time ever, Jonathan pitied his father. He sat on the edge of the desk and watched as his father went to the window and looked out at the rain.

The duke peered out for a long time, his paws behind his back, his tail low and twitching at the tip. "You know you remind me of my brother?" he said eventually, calmly. He laughed softly. "Edward used to get kicked out of every school too. I didn't. It was the one thing I did right."

Jonathan blinked. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"Mm hmm." The duke glanced at him, a small smile on his lips. "He was wild. Drove Mother up the walls."

"What happened to him?"

The duke looked out the window again. "He went far away. I never saw him again. I . . . don't want that to happen to us. However we argue, I want you in my life."

"And yet you sent my mother away," Jonathan said darkly. He went still when the duke turned and simply regarded him in silence. He couldn't read the look on his father's face, but he thought he saw hurt there, however faint.

Duke Richard sighed. "Sarah wanted to leave, Jonny. I didn't send her anywhere."

Jonathan glared at the floor. "So my mother abandoned me? Tfh. If just gets better and better." He looked up and was startled by the wince that crossed the duke's face.

"She didn't _abandon_you. She was around a long time. Perhaps you don't remember her." He strolled through the room, stopped near a table, and toyed with the small porcelain cat on it. "I think she was jealous of Charlie. She couldn't handle it anymore . . ." He shrugged unhappily. "So she left."

"You didn't love her?" Jonathan muttered.

Duke Richard looked at him sadly. "No, son." He went to the mantle, where he stared at the fire. "I think she was jealous that you loved Charlie so." He laughed. "You loved Charlie more than her. You never called her Mother but you took to Charlie almost immediately. She felt as if she had no place here and wanted to move on. So I helped her."

"Where is she?"

"Over in Redwick, perhaps?"

Jonathan's heart leapt and he lowered his eyes to the carpet. He'd thought so. When Haskell was drunk that evening, he told Jonathan his mother had left for a position as a maid in Redwick. He hadn't picked the place he was running to at random.

"If you'd like, I could arrange a visit -- after all this business with your school."

"I would like that, Father. But would she even want to see me?"

The duke looked at him in amazement, and seeing the sadness in Jonathan's eyes, he came to him and squeezed his shoulders. "Of course she'd want to. She loves you, Jonny. She thought your life would be better without her. Or that you didn't need her - a notion I told her was incredibly stupid. But she left anyway."

"You know . . ." Jonathan laughed. "Beasts don't tend to listen when you call them stupid, Father." But he thought of his night in The Twin Whistle and lowered his eyes to the throw rug.

The duke laughed too. A small couch stood before the fireplace, and taking his drink off the mantle, he sat on it, drink in paw. Jonathan sat beside him.

"Now . . . about the prince and all that jewelry you stole . . ." The duke sighed heavily, and Jonathan thought he suddenly looked very tired. He pinched the flesh between his eyes, and a lick of his red mane tumbled loose in his face.

"I gave it all to Uncle Charlie, I swear," Jonathan protested.

The duke waved a paw. "No. I already know that. And thank you for giving me more letters of tail kissing and groveling to write." He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. "How I'm going to explain how you came across the crown jewels is beyond me. But that isn't what we need to discuss."

Jonathan glowered at the fire. "Do we have to? I know the prince is my cousin. Who cares? You and Uncle Charlie are cousins . . ."

"No, we bloody aren't," the duke said with a laugh. "Charlie isn't purebred, he's illegitimate."

Jonathan blinked at his father.

"You heard me," the duke said and took a tired drink. The amber liquid swished as he swallowed and stared at the fire.

"So Uncle Charlie is like me?"

"Yes. Duke Verneus had a little tryst with a maid. He made Charlie. I married his sister and took her name and the estate --"

"But you really wanted Uncle Charlie."

". . . something like that," the duke said wearily and continued to stare almost listlessly at the fire. "Point is, Charlie and I aren't anymore related than a duck and a rat. But that's not what I wanted to discuss. I'm not concerned about the two of you being related. I'm concerned that you've gotten yourself mixed up in politics. I don't want that cunt Donica having any purchase on you, however small. We can't let her find out that you've slept with Etienne. You aren't . . . I mean . . ." He looked at Jonathan uncertainly. "There's no emotional attachment?"

Jonathan laughed dryly. "After I stole his jewelry?" He looked away. ". . . and his coin purse," he added under his breath.

The duke looked at the fire again. "Good. Then breaking off contact will be easy enough. Charles said the boy is out running around Varimore. If he winds up on our doorstep, you and he aren't to touch each other again --"

"Father, I --"

"I don't want you to get attached," the duke said over him, "to something you can't have. Etienne is a _prince._He's going to marry a princess and live happily ever after. At least until Donica drops poison in his wine." He took a weary sip and stared at the fire again, which reflected in his eyes, slowly dancing.

"I doubt he'll want to sleep with me. More like hit me. I wasn't exactly . . . nice."

"Ha. You're a de Lion, boy. Being an ass is in your genes."

Jonathan laughed. He watched for a moment as his tired father drank and stared into the fire. The duke was completely at his ease, and it hit him that this was the first time they had really sat down and spoken without arguing -- the first time in . . . years. He wanted o hug his father, to kiss him, to tell him that he was indescribably happy that he had finally gotten his attention. He wanted to tell Duke Richard that he loved him. But he didn't know how.

"Father?"

"What?" The duke didn't look up.

"I. . . . I . . ."

The duke looked at Jonathan in amazement. "What is the matter with you? Go wash up for supper. And brush your mane. It looks like shit."

Jonathan sighed. "Yes, Father." He got up and went to the door. Behind him, the duke remained on the couch, staring at the fire. He smiled at his father and whispered, "I love you, Dad." Then he went out, closing the door behind him.

Sitting by the fire, Duke Richard smiled.