4: Brothers at Arms

By the time the sun rose the next day, Alex was dressed and pulling his boots into place. It was not that he'd slept poorly – the bed had been too downy to allow for anything less than a wonderous night's sleep – but he knew his best chance was to leave the house before any of the guests rose. He pressed himself to his feet, eyeing his riding coat and immediately deciding against it. He was already celebrating having made his escape when he opened and found his father waiting on the other side.

James Kilroy was a thickset, dark-skinned man with deep wrinkles around his eyes that told anyone that noticed them that his smile was habitual. Even now there was a twinkle in his eye as he pinned with son with a look of mild reproach.

"Not sneaking out already, are you m'boy?"

Alex ran his tongue across the edge of his teeth; he did not see the point in answering that. "I thought to go on an early ride," he said, gesturing lamely at his riding boots, "before the festivities recommence in earnest."

James clapped his hands between them, his mouth stretching into a grin even as Alex cast an alarmed look down the corridor with the noise. "What a coincidence – I was planning the very same! You won't mind if I join you?"

Alex could not prevent a huffed laugh escaping from under his breath, and he rolled his eyes at his father. He stepped out of his room, pulling the door closed quietly behind him. "Could I stop you?"

The older man just winked at him, scratching at his heavily bearded chin.

They walked the hallway in companionable silence, eventually emerging into soft daylight. Alex's eyes fluttered closed as he took in a deep breath, feeling some of the tension fade from his shoulders. That was until he was jostled by a rather firm pat on the back.

"C'mon, Alex, let's not keep the horses waiting."

James strode away confidently, leaving his son frowning in his wake. It was unlike his father, he thought as he followed more cautiously, to rush anywhere. In his days as steward, he had favoured the 'slow and steady' approach, thoughtful and intentional to a fault. Alex had not expected to make it to the horses for another half hour or more because of his father's usual pace.

The man disappeared around the building, and as Alex stepped after him, he stopped still. Now he knew the reason James Kilroy was rushing.

Four horses were saddled and readied, gathered in the small courtyard that bordered the stables. Their reins were held, not by grooms as he might have expected, but by two finely dressed blonde gentlemen that smiled widely as James approached.

"We thought we might have to head off without you, James!" The slightly younger of the two joked, offering the reins of a white mare as she butted her head against the man's shoulder.

The other blonde smiled at James' approach, but his attention flicked over the man until he found Alex frozen in place behind him. "So you managed to get him out of bed? Bravo indeed."

James must have made a low comment, because both of the other men let out matching chuckles.

The elder met Alex's gaze again, his voice pitched louder. "Come on, brother. Let's go for a ride."

Alex would have denied – loudly – that it was stubbornness that kept his approach slow, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise. He swallowed down his hopes for a peaceful ride, and levelled an even smile at the men as he drew near.

"Peter," he said by way of greeting, nodding at the younger man who had already handed his second horse off to their father. He returned the smile and the dip of his head, before moving quickly. With his left arm, he reached out and grabbed Alex by the nape of the neck, pulling him into a rough hug that was filled with various slaps and thumps. When he pulled back, even Alex was grinning slightly.

"I'm not sure how you managed to avoid us for the entire ball last night. I might be impressed if I wasn't so darned annoyed," Peter said, the curl of his lips undermining his stern expression. He gave Alex a gentle push, inadvertently turning him to face their other brother.

Lucas was irritated, but the Marquess of Westley had a well-practised smile in place nonetheless.

"Alex," he said, inclining his head.

His younger brother could not match his indifference, feeling his own smile fade away. "Lucas," he returned, accepting the reins that were offered to him. "I apologise, I did not expect company for my ride this morning."

To his right, Peter huffed a laugh. "Mother doubted you'd show up if we let on."

Their mother was a smart woman.

"Just a pity you have to be tricked into spending time with your family," Lucas commented, as toneless as if he were remarking on the weather. Still, it felt like a punch to Alex's chest, and it took everything in him not to flinch away.

James' hand was suddenly on his shoulder. "Alright, no point standing around lollygagging. Let us away before these guests of yours spot us, Lucas."

Alex nodded along with his older brothers, adamantly refusing to look at his father. To see sympathy would be awkward, but his true fear was to see Lucas' censure echoed on the face of the man he most admired.

.

Despite the unexpected company, the ride served every purpose Alex could have hoped for. As they cantered across a field, he may have even let out a whoop of joy. If he did, no one would ever know though, as it was stolen away in an instant by the winds that whipped through his hair and cut through his shirt like ice. At the top of a hill, the cold was almost unbearable, but in a way that made Alex yearn for more. This was freedom, he thought. This was what he wanted for his life.

He drew his horse to a stop slightly to the side of his father, his breathing heavy. He leant forward, patting the bay mare on the neck as he caught the last of what his brothers were discussing.

"... but we've not been able to find a cause." Lucas shook his head, scowling down at the landscape that stretched before them.

Even Peter seemed concerned. "And the livestock are so affected?"

Their elder brother let out a heavy sigh, but only nodded in reply. Alex nudging his horse forward slightly, drawing in line with the other men to assess the valley. The fields were laid out before them, undulating across the hills, but with stone walls dividing them up evenly. The walls cross-hatched the landscape, enclosing paddocks of grass that was too brown-tinged for an English summer.

Beside him, James raised his hand to the horizon, counting the fingers between the furthest hill and the sun. He lowered his hand with a slight shrug. "We have an hour or two before we need meet your guests for the picnic, Lucas. Why don't we see what we can find in the meantime."

The answering smile was so genuine, so grateful, that Alex had to look away. It was the way a son looked at his father, and he was embarrassed by the way it cut him to his core. Lucas had been all of ten when James and Cordelia had married, and Peter only eight. He may not have sired them, but he had raised them. He was their father in all but name.

And that stuck Alex like a burr in his soul, nagging and eternal.

He allowed himself to trail behind as the others kicked their mounts forward, taking slow, deep breaths through his mouth to stave off the familiar wave of jealousy. His mare stumbled slightly on the slope, dragging him from his thoughts, and the rest of the descent he focussed on not breaking his neck.

They drew to a stop in a field in which the grass barely brushed their horses' knees. Alex frowned at the offending pasture: by this time in the season it should be brushing his feet in the stirrups.

Lucas looked as concerned as he felt. "The tenants fear it will die off if we go more than a week without rain, and then they'll have nothing to run the sheep on before the wheat is ready for harvest."

Their father drew up beside him, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Alex looked away. He knew this field, he was sure. The slope of the hill, the trickling stream that ran along the bottom. He nudged his horse a few steps closer, tilting his head at the slow trickle of water over brown rocks.

"Did we play here as children?"

From the silence the followed, he may have interrupted another conversation. Glancing over his shoulder, he found their eyes on him, all in various stages of frowns.

"You played," Peter said before the quiet stretched intolerably, "We monitored you." This he finished with a wink.

Alex forced his lips to curve – to acknowledge the joke. "I remember it running more forcefully," he said.

James nodded at him, tugging on the end of his greying beard. "It did earn the title of 'river' when you were a child."

The man had barely finished speaking before Lucas said, "It has not been a sudden change, Alexander."

His implication was clear, but rather than flinch, Alex raised his chin and kicked his horse towards the stream. It ran from right to left, cascading down a slight incline, and as Peter let out a weak protest behind him, he set off in search of the river's source. After ten metres, he heard movement behind him, along with a grudging sigh. After several hundred, he was ducking beneath the limb of a tree as his mare deftly lead them into the woods. The trees were not so dense that he had to dismount, but to be safe he directed the horse to the riverbed. The water lapped at her hooves, and he shook his head.

They tracked the river in silence for upwards of twenty minutes, before grumbled protests began to escalate.

"Alex, this is irrational," Lucas huffed behind him, "We should turn back and head to the picnic. This is not a problem that can be solved in a morning."

Alex was glad to have an excuse to ignore him.

Ahead, so far that he had to squint to make it out, he could see something laid across the river. He urged his horse forward, not risking a trot in the unstable terrain, but hoping to quicken the pace slightly. As he drew closer, the scene before him became clear, and he dismounted quickly. Laid across the stream was a thick tree trunk, wedged in between a pair of rocks with the roots straining in the breeze. The leaves, or what remained of them, were brown and desiccating.

One might say, this had not been a sudden change.

Alex clenched his jaw and made no comment about the sudden silence behind him, leading how horse out of the river bed and tying her to a tree several metres away. He approached the trunk, climbing up on a rock to peer over the obstacle. There was all manner of twigs and leaflitter caught behind the fallen log, several trickles of water either forcing their way through the blockage or flowing over the top of the trunk.

Perhaps it was a problem that could be solved in a morning.

Raising one foot, Alex nudged the trunk with his boot, but it didn't shift. Even when he pressed his weight against it, the fallen limb barely moved. He let out a huff of frustration, and turned his attention to the others. His mouth opened, but as he looked at the three of them, he hesitated. Lucas and Peter were in polished boots and thick woollen coats of bronze and grey, respectively. They were not dressed to drag a tree out of a river bed.

Despite his greying hair and growing belly, Alex looked to his father. "Lend me a hand?"

The man nodded easily, shifting his weight in the saddle to dismount, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. Alex raised a brow.

"Not to worry, James, Peter and I can help Alex," his eldest brother said, his smile wide and polite as he clapped their father's back. He locked eyes with Alex then, waiting a moment as if he expected him to protest. Alex just shrugged and turned his attention back to the log.

He heard a pair of thumps behind him as he forded the stream, wincing as water splashed over the lip of his boots, and by the time he'd reached the middle of the trunk, his brothers were in place at the other.

"Your end towards the other bank?"

Alex received a terse nod from Lucas and a smile from Peter. He counted down from three, and on one they all strained, lifting the fallen log from the rocks with great effort. They took a few struggling steps and some of the resistance disappeared, larger sticks and twigs breaking free, carried by the water which was finally allowed to flow free. A few collided with Alex's shins but he gritted his teeth and pressed onwards.

Each man was at the end of his strength when they lowered the trunk forcefully on the other bank with matching groans of effort. They took a moment to breathe, and regard the now flowing stream. Lucas and Peter were now standing ankle-deep in the river, but all three men were soaked up to the knees from the crossing.

After a moment, Lucas looked at Alex, his smile edge with nothing but gratitude. "That's well done, brother," he said. As warmth welled in Alex's chest, Lucas continued, "A pity you were not here a few months ago."

Alex's upper lip twitched, his fists clenching at his side. He might have rebutted that, have asked his brother to stop hiding behind veiled comments, but there was no time. Having said his piece, Lucas turned back to their horses, taking a single step forward. What he was not prepared for, however, was the slipperiness of the newly moistened riverbed. In the same motion, his boot carried him out from under him and he cast his arms out to the side, catching Peter's arm. For a second, that looked to stabilise him, but Peter himself was forced to shift his weight in counterbalance and found his own patch of slick mud. Both men went down in one, smooth motion, landing with simultaneous splashes and yelps of surprise.

They sat in the river, which now flowed just beneath their armpits, staring dourly up at the drier onlookers.

Their father was the first to laugh. A guffaw of pure glee emerged from him as he leant back on his horse, shouting his amusement into the air. Peter followed in moments, raising damp hands to rake his dishevelled hair out of his way. A rivulet of water peeled off the cuff of his coat, splashing into the river and adding to the cacophony of sounds. Lucas was shaking his head, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of a marquess sitting in a river.

Alex glanced between each of them, and couldn't help his own smile from rising up. Lucas caught his eye, raising an arch brow.

"I blame you for this, of course," he said, flicking his fingers through the water and casting a few splashes in Alex's direction.

He simply grinned back.

It was brotherly love at its finest. And for a moment, all was forgotten.

~~~

Hello Lovely Readers!

I'm not gonna lie - this is not where I expected this chapter to go! But suddenly there were brotherly feuds and problems to solve, and 2500 words later here we are!

What I would love to know from you is: do you feel this chapter makes sense here? My thinking is that we need to know the backstory, to understand why Alex is the way he is, just as we understand more of  Rosemary from her discussion with Greer in the previous chapter. My concern, is that the drama (which should be in the next chapter or two ooh, exciting) is taking too long to happen. This chapter could be rewritten and happen after  the drama, but I'm just not sure. I'd love to know what you think as readers!

xx Flo

P.S. What do we think of Lucas? Is he a good brother? A bad brother? Just human? I'd love to know your thoughts!