Chapter 3

Arthur didn't sleep at all well that night. He came down to breakfast in the morning in a foul mood. He didn't quite understand why. That Duke was so, so, charming, and handsome, and... he didn't know why he felt what he did, but he felt a strong attraction to Lord Westchester. He stalked into the dining room and threw himself down on a chair. He had barely paid attention, but now he looked up and saw the room was filled flowers. Every type of hothouse rose a noble could grow or buy was there. The stench was ghastly. Like his nostrils were being drenched in perfume. He looked over at his father, reading his morning paper and sipping at his tea. Morgana sat across from Arthur, staring at him eagerly.

He didn't want to hear her stories, but saw no forseeable escape. If he didn't hear them now, he would be forced to hear them later.

"Yes?"

"Oh, Arthur! Wasn't last night wonderful? I danced with Lord Westchester no less than five times! It was quite improper, but he was so dashing, and witty, and... perfect! Oh, Arthur! It was perfect! He sent me flowers this morning too. I think he could be the one!"

Arthur heard this with difficulty. He didn't know why this man meant so much. To any of them. He snapped.

"Morgana, for goodness sake! You've only just gone out into society! You don't know what you're talking about! The one! Please! There is no such thing. Stop being such a twit!"

Morgana was taken aback and started to tear up. She yelled at him, choking up, her voice breaking. "What do you know? Just because you haven't found love, don't try and ruin my hopes!" She threw her napkin down and ran from the room crying.

His father looked up from the paper, an annoyed look on his face. "What is all this commotion? Please, keep it down, I'm trying to read the news." He huffed and went back to his paper, unaware of anything that had transpired apart from the noise. Arthur gave his father an icy glare and wiped his mouth hurriedly with his napkin before throwing it down and leaving the table. He was on his way to the library when the family butler, Danforth, walked in, escorting none other than Merlin.

He stopped in his tracks, terrified and mesmerized by the sight of the alluring young man again. He opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin's silky voice cut him off.

"Arthur! I had forgotten you were Morgana's brother! I hope I'm not intruding?"

Arthur grit his teeth. "Not at all."

Merlin smiled. "Brilliant. I was rather hoping Lady Morgana would consent to a carriage ride? I just got the latest curricle and apparently anybody who's anybody has to go on an outing in them? I find no sense in it, but no matter. Do you think she would consent?"

Arthur forced a smile through his jealousy. "I rather think so. Danforth, go and fetch Lady Morgana, and tell her to dress for an outing."

Danforth nodded and bowed to both aristocrats before walking towards the great staircase.

Merlin stood in the foyer, smiling awkwardly.

Arthur shook his head. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Drink in the library?"

Merlin smiled and shrugged. "Why not?"

Arthur led him into the richly furnished room. Merlin looked around with great appreciation. "This is beautiful."

Arthur smiled. "Thank you. Is scotch alright?"

Merlin looked confused.

"Something wrong?"

"To be honest, I don't really drink alot. The odd glass of champagne is it. I'm sure you can't be too surprised, as everyone has informed me that I look like a boy of fourteen."

Arthur laughed. "Not at all. I pictured you as a raging drunk. "

Merlin laughed. "Yes, I'm sure."

Arthur handed the younger man a glass. Merlin looked at and took a small sip before coughing.

Arthur smirked. "Take it easy. It's just scotch."

Merlin cleared his throat. "Sorry."

They sat in silence a few moments, and just as Arthur had worked up the courage to speak to Merlin, the door opened and Morgana strode in.

"Ah, Lord Westchester," she sang merrily, curtsying. Merlin bowed with a bright smile. "I am so excited to see this new curricle of yours. Does it go very fast?"Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, to be honest, I'm not sure."

She waved away the question with the cheery flit of her hand. "No matter! I am still quuite eager."

Merlin smiled. "Well, we better be off then."

Morgana took the young man's offered arm adn turned round to Arthur.

"Do you have any conquests to ride with, Arthur?"

He tried to look casual, still sipping his drink.

"Not a one. And I prefer it that way. I'll see you later."

She shrugged and Merlin thanked him fro the drink before they left the house.

Arthur gulped the rest of his drink down and went to the window to watch them leave. Morgan had seated her self right up next to the Duke, and had take his arm. He out on his hat, and uged the horses forward with a gentle tap of the reigns. Arthur watched them ride away, Morgana's hand holding her bonnet to her head in the soft wind. Arthur snorted. Why should he care that his sister was going out with the Duke? It was simple, he didn't care. He sat down in a leather wingchair, and crossed his arms. He called on of his dogs over, and stroked the animal's fur absentmindedly. Why did he feel this way about a man he had just met? And who was a man? It made no sense, he had never been attracted to any man before. Merlin was different. There was something about him... Arthur laughed at himself, he sounded like one of the desperate girls who can't find a husband, always trying to pretend there's "something real" with every man she meets. Arthur banished the Duke from his mind and took it upon himself to go riding.

He saddled his horse, Apollo, and set about riding through the estate grounds, which covered at least a hundred acres. He felt free out here, calm. He had almost frogotten about the young Duke's glittering eyes when the young man himself appeared on a gorgeous white stallion.

"Merlin? Where is my sister? And your curricle?"

"I had my servant come and bring it back to my estate. I live only a mile and a half. I kept my horse, and when I saw you riding, I thought I might join you."

Arthur nodded.

Merlin wanted to start more conversation, but he didn't know how. Arthur looked in no mood for conversation. They rode silently. Arthur occasionally looked over at the Duke's pensive face, and wished he could speak to him and make that silky voice heard. He thought about that voice, and then those lips. How he would love to the feel those tantalizing, moist, perfect pink lips against his own. He slapped himself for thinking such absurd thoughts. Merlin looked over at him, concerned.

"Arthur? Are you alright?"

Arthur cursed himself for being so foolish. "Yes, I'm fine. There was a mosquito on my face. I'm fine, but I regret to say I must be returning home."

Then, without any further conversation, he urged his horse forward and galloped away. Merlin stopped his horse, and stared after the retreating figure of the handsome young Earl. His face fell. What had he done?

Merlin rode home to his estate, and gave his horse to the stable boy. He entered the vast house and went directly to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed. He thought about Arthur. His beautiful blue eyes, golden hair, and... he sighed. He knew he shouldn't feel this way. Not only was Arthur a man, but he was a man with a preferance for women. He had fallen for the young Earl almost as soon as their eyes had met. He had liked Morgana instantly as well, but not nearly as much as Arthur. When he had found out they were brother and sister, he was thrilled. He had reason to see Arthur again, without appearing to be over-eager in making an aquaintance. But he had acted an idiot with the older man, and he was disappointed but not surprised, to find that the Earl was cold and indifferent to him. He would never even gain the man's friendship it seemed. He laid back on the soft covers of the bed, and sighed. He wanted the unattainable.