I'm starting to re-vamp this story - there's a lot of errors from the initial posting. Hopefully it will all be squeaky clean by the end of the month! :D
"Archibald, do cease that noise!" called Lady Kennedy sternly. "And how many times must you be asked not to run on the stairs?"
"Sorry, Mamma," thirteen year-old Archie Kennedy grimaced at the use of his full name, before turning and dashing off down the corridor. He bounded round a corner and gave a yell of surprise as he was grabbed by a pair of strong hands.
"Caught you!" cried his older brother Duncan, triumphantly. "You are far too slow, little brother!"
"Only because you cheat!" cried Archie indignantly, with the hint of a pout showing on his young face. "You know you are not allowed to use the back stairs!"
"Yes I am!" argued Duncan, grinning. "The rules are to catch the other by any means, and the only place that is out of bounds is Papa's study. Now stop sulking; let's go outside. I have already been told off for running about once, and Mamma is in one of her snappish moods – I gather she is not pleased that the Duchess' ball has been cancelled. We shall be in hot water if we are caught again."
"All right," Archie followed Duncan down to the corridor, past the morning room and the dining hall, and out into the vast expanse of gardens, which their father's manor house overlooked.
Duncan and Archie were the eldest of Lord Frederick Kennedy's three children and the two brother's were exceptionally close; despite their great differences. Duncan was a daredevil who delighted in mischief, and his handsome face was constantly alight with a hint of cheek. He was the eldest son, and was therefore, by default, the heir to the estate. Despite this enviable position, he was always rushing headlong into trouble or some other dangerous situation. Reckless and impatient by nature, Duncan was often in trouble with his father, the sombre and dignified Lord Kennedy, who despaired of his 'immature and thoughtless' behaviour. Tall, well-proportioned and slim, with open green eyes, a ready smile and reddish-blond hair, Duncan was a good-looking young man and his parents had every expectation of his marrying very well in society.
Archie, three years his junior, always followed Duncan's lead – which usually culminated in both of them being in trouble. He was remarkably similar to his brother in looks – essentially looking like a shorter version of Duncan; with the same build, the same hair, the same eyes and everything else. There, however, the similarities ended. Archie was by nature the shyer, quieter of the two and, while Duncan was predominantly out of doors riding and hunting, his younger brother took enormous pleasure in spending hours in the huge manor library. He was an avid reader of Shakespeare, Wordsworth and all the classical literature. His favourite time of the year was when the family would all travel to London for the season and he was able to attend a great many theatre performances. He was an erudite and intelligent boy and intended to study the law.
"Duncan, for goodness sakes, do not climb that tree! You'll fall out again and Mama will kill you if you tear another pair of breeches!" he cried in alarm. Archie was also, by far, the more cautious and sensible of the two.
"Good God, Archie, do not worry so much! It's not good for a man!" grinned Duncan, swinging down from the branch he had momentarily alighted. "I say, it shan't be dark for a few hours yet. What do you say to a ride over to Fiddes Hill and back?"
"I don't know...the weather doesn't look too promising at present," said Archie nervously, looking over at the huge black clouds that were forming on the east of the sky over their Ayrshire estate. "I rather think we're in for some thunder."
"We shall be back before then!" said Duncan confidently, propelling Archie back towards the house. "Come along, I will tell Mama where we are going."
"All right!" laughed Archie in resignation. "I will tell the groom."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Ten minutes later, the two Kennedy brothers were riding fast over the fields and hills of their father's large estate. They took the fences and any other obstacle in their way with a speed that was almost dangerous. But danger didn't worry them over much; they were laughing loudly together, thoroughly enjoying the short respite from their parents' strict household. All in all, it was remarkable that the boys had turned out the way they had. It was not that their parents were cruel; it was just that they did not approve of too much frivolity or affection – typical aristocrats.
"You're in fine form, Archie!" called Duncan teasingly as he streaked ahead on his black gelding. "One of these days you might outrun Charlotte's kitten.
"Don't get so cocky, dear brother!" cried Archie in reply, urging his chestnut forward to catch up. "Come on Apollo, catch him!"
And so the friendly competition continued all the way to Fiddes Hill, where they about turned and raced back towards the large red-brick house, this time with Archie in the lead.
"Do you think Papa will be back when we get home?" wondered Archie as they splashed through the small stream. "The wind is getting rather strong."
"He'll be fine, Arch, don't fret." said Duncan, taking a tighter hold on his reigns. "The carriage is sturdy and the horses are swift. In fact, I shall be surprised if he doesn't beat us home."
By the time the two boys arrived back at the stables of the manor, the sky above them was absolutely back with vicious looking clouds and the wind was biting at their faces.
"Looks like you were right as usual, little brother." said Duncan, with his ever-present smile as the two of them swung out of their saddles. "We certainly seem to be in for a stormy night. Let's get these two back in their stalls, or we shall be late for supper. Hey, easy Hercules! There's nothing to fear, boy." Duncan's horse was whinnying nervously.
"I hate weather like this." sighed Archie. "The ground will be almost impossible to ride on for about a week afterwards, if it rains as it is promising to."
"Not to mention the fact that we shall be stuck indoors all day with old misery-guts!" said Duncan, pouting theatrically at the mention of their tutor. "I swear if he hits me with that ruler one more time for a grammar mistake, I shall turn my pen into a deadly weapon and we shall be short one tutor."
"Maybe you should listen when he talks!" teased Archie. "You'd save yourself a few bruises."
"Latin doesn't matter for me anyway!" countered Duncan smoothly. "I've already told you; I'm going to join the army!"
"You can't join the army, you're Papa's heir!" protested Archie for the thousandth time. "You're going to inherit the estate! What if you should die?"
"Then you shall inherit the estate, little brother!" said Duncan carelessly. "Now come on, the horses are getting frightened."
Suddenly, there was an almighty clap of thunder; louder than a cannon. Apollo reared up in terror, his hooves flailing as he whinnied. Archie, holding his reigns, looked round in surprise. He couldn't have picked a worse moment to do it.
Quick as lightning, he was struck on the forehead by one of the hooves and crumpled to the ground soundlessly.
"ARCHIE!" Duncan's scream could have travelled for miles.
Lord and Lady Kennedy were pulled from their warm drawing room by the cry. They rushed to the front entrance and hurried down the now rain-covered steps.
"Duncan! What on earth are you about? Hollering like a…" began Lord Kennedy sternly, but he was stopped in his tracks by the sight of his younger son lying in a listless heap on the grass with his face covered in blood.
"Archie!"
