Author's notes Yes, I know my language here isn't period or particularly British. Sigh. I'm doing my best.

And there's been a bit of a retcon -- if you read over the previous two chapters before April 1st, 2007 I have changed the following retroactively, because I, uh, did some research and realized I was way far off base. Anyway.

(1) Trevor is now Viscount Trevor. He has a secondary title of Baron Trevor, which would be Kenji's title until he inherited his grandfather's upon his grandfather's death. This hasn't been addressed yet in the story; it will be. (There was a real Baron Trevor but the line died out in the 1700's, according to wiki. Wiki is a dubious resource for research, but I'll accept that as good enough for fanfic and say this is a different family entirely.)

(2) Kenji is now the oldest son. His younger brothers (three of them) were left behind with a nurse but his parents took him with them as they intended to be away for a few years and he was his mother's favorite son and judged old enough for travel. He was also being harassed by an older cousin, who you will meet ... He was four, not three as previously stated. You have met the youngest (William, who would have been a few months old) and the second-eldest (George, who would have been three.) The middle brother, Byron, was not mentioned previously. Byron's gonna be fun. :-) Viscount Trevor has a whole 'nother reason for not liking Byron than 'stupid boor' and 'aggressive idiot', respectively, but Kenji, raised with Japanese sensibilities about certain things, ought to get along with Byron splendidly.

Sorry about this. One of the perils of writing organically rather than researching first and writing from an outline is discovering you screwed something up and have to fix it to make the story work ... I had originally planned on a much shorter series but Chi-chan's story has taken on a life of its own in my head and this section got seriously expanded. At around 90K words and with a good bit of story to go, this isn't the longest story I've ever written, but I believe it will turn out to be my longest fanfic ever.

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Two weeks later, they moved to one of Jessica's country manors. It was an enormous building, and now Kenshin understood why she needed a small army of staff. Also, conveniently, it was only a few miles from Viscount Trevor's country estate. The Viscount had been away on business but was returning in two day's time; he had sent an invitation for Kenji to have lunch with him then.

"Wow, it's splendid!" Chiyoko breathed out, in excitement, staring out the carriage window over Iku's head.

"It's raining," Iku said, hunching down in the seat.

"Wet," agreed her brother.

"I like the mist," Chiyoko said, with a shrug. "It's romantic."

"Cold," Iku said.

"Wet," repeated Aki.

"Nasty," Iku agreed.

Kenshin supposed he should be glad that the cold, wet, and nasty were all English words -- the children were learning English far faster than he was. Learning English had become a bit of a game between Shinya, and the younger children -- instigated by Shinya, who Kenshin was convinced was brilliantly intelligent -- and each tried to stump the other with vocabulary words.

Five year old Yukio was nearly as good at the game as Shinya, to Kenshin's surprise.

"At least it's not the city. You will be able to get out and run and play."

He was in the carriage with the children, mostly because he was the best at stopping a war from breaking out. Kaoru, at this point, was worse than useless -- he'd deliberately separated them under the guise of, "Why don't you ride with Jessica and practice your English?" because he was reasonably sure that Aki had been deliberately pushing her buttons out of pure boredom.

After having been cooped up for months on a ship, and weeks in the townhome, his children were short-tempered, cranky, and unusually troublesome. Kenshin knew this was because they were ferociously bored. Only Chiyoko remained her typical polite self. He was not surprised by any of this.

Even though her level temperament was not unexpected, he had pulled her aside and complimented her yesterday on that remarkable self-control after she'd made it through a particularly trying day of sibling rivalry without even raising her voice. In response she'd rolled her eyes and explained, "You have enough to deal with, without me adding to it. I'm old enough to be patient."

"I'm not sure I'm old enough to be patient," he had replied, letting some of his irritation with the kids -- particularly twelve year old Iku -- touch his voice.

Chiyoko had shrugged in response to that. "That's nothing a century or two won't fix, Kenshin-papa."

A second carriage, ahead, carried Kenji, Jessica, Kaoru and Shinya. More carriages behind carried Jessica's butler, Jessica's personal maid, her cook and his kitchen staff -- which Jessica was rather attached to, though Kenshin wasn't entirely fond of British cuisine and was ready to kill for a simple dish of grilled fish -- a couple of secretaries, and assorted important people in her company. She'd been away for a long time with her business trusted to those people, and now she wanted reports!

And there were many more members of her staff, many of whom had functions he didn't understand. Plus, he was given to understand, she had a large number of newly hired servants waiting for them at the house.

He prayed he remembered everyone's names; he'd been introduced to household staff, both new and old, and her employees, at a dizzying clip. English names were not easy to remember or pronounce.

The carriages rolled up to the manor, bumping over cobblestones. Those containing household staff continued on around to the back of the house -- he'd learned it wasn't considered appropriate for employees to enter the front door when Jessica's maid had mistaken him for a servant on the first day and yelled at him. Meekly, unsure of the language but clear on where she was pointing, he'd gone around to the back of the townhome and entered through the kitchen door -- where he'd promptly been scolded again by the cook, to whom he'd already been introduced. He'd had to track down Chiyoko and get her to translate before everything was sorted out.

The maid -- a matronly woman of 'good breeding' -- had been mortified, the cook had been amused at her expense, and Kaoru had found the whole matter hysterical when she heard later.

Once the carriage stopped, the kids tumbled out -- Iku and Aki both grumbling vociferously about the rain -- and Kenshin and Chiyoko followed. Servants carrying umbrellas had appeared to escort them inside. Kenshin found himself under an umbrella held by a skinny, freckled teenage boy with hair not too many shades different from his own.

It was cold. The carriage had a little stove in it that burned tiny amounts of coal -- enough to keep the carriage warm. The air outside was damp and chilly. Again he thought, This is spring?

A woman stood just inside the manor house door. She had blond hair shot through with grey, pulled back into a severe bun and she wore what Kenshin recognized (from observation of the wealthy ladies who'd come calling on Jessica) as a fashionable style of dress. Behind her, there was a pile of luggage that was swiftly being carried upstairs and out of sight by servants.

Emily Marshall, Kenshin guessed, Jessica's mother. His surmise was proven correct when Jessica saw her and exclaimed, "Mama!"

The two hugged only briefly. Mrs. Marshall looked embarrassed by the hug.

Kenshin followed Kenji through the door and watched in amusement as his son stared at his feet in shy silence. Jessica turned around after only a moment more of exchanging pleasantries with the mother she hadn't seen in years. She saw the look on his face, grinned, and said to her mother, "Mama, this is Alastair Trevor."

Chiyoko, next to Kenshin, translated for him in a low voice as they spoke.

"Lord Trevor." The woman surveyed him with keen eyes. "My daughter has spoken highly of you in her letters and cables to me. I am most pleased to hear you have breeding to match her good opinion of you."

"Mama!" Jessica protested. "You know I said yes to his proposal before I ever knew anything about him!"

"Still. I am certain his family has something to do with the intelligence and good manners that drew you to him," Emily Marshall said airily, "Blood does show, after all."

Kaoru, also listening to Chiyoko's translation, muttered in Japanese, "She obviously doesn't know the Trevor brothers."

Jessica shot Kaoru a look. Her lips twitched but she didn't actually smile. Instead she said, "I think that 'Lord Trevor' would rather be called Kenji -- or Kenji-san, if you wish to include a honorific. Kenji would be more intimate."

"Kenji-san," Mrs. Marshall murmured, politely.

"And this is Kenshin and Kaoru Himura -- Kenshin's like Uncle Marshall, mama. They adopted and raised Kenji in Japan."

Kenshin heard his real name and gave Jessica a keen look. There were no servants in ear-shot, however; they'd all disappeared, presumably on various errands. He hadn't discussed telling Emily Marshall his real identity -- on the other hand, the woman probably deserved to know the whole truth, and she obviously already knew about Immortals. Marshall was Jessica's great-grandfather's adopted brother on her father's side -- and apparently, by Jessica's words, her mother knew he was not mortal.

Mrs. Marshall gave him a keen look. "How old are you?"

He understood that question, to his relief, and decided for an honest answer. "Fifty-three. I am fifty-three years."

She frowned at him.

Jessica continued, "He's using the name Shinta Kamiya, and his wife is Kaoru Kamiya. Kenshin Himura is well known in Japan, and perhaps even beyond Japan to those who study politics and history, and there was ... trouble ... due to what he is. We've judged it best that they use an assumed name for now."

"I see."

"And this is Chiyoko -- Chi-chan -- she is their fosterling, and the rest of the children are Kenshin's nieces and nephews whom the Himuras have adopted. And this is Shinya, the son of an intimate friend of their family."

"Quite a large brood of little orientals. What are you going to do with them?" Emily Marshall's tone of voice was genuinely curious more than snide, despite her actual words. "They're darling children, Jessica."

Chiyoko translated that with a perfectly straight face and a perfect match of Mrs. Marshall's intonation. Chiyoko obviously thought she was being included in the darling children category. Kaoru frowned intensely; Kenshin's worked hard at keeping his expression neutral.

"Mother!" Jessica said, a little sharply. "They're Kenji's family."

Mrs. Marshall made a casual gesture with her hand, waving away her objections. "I suppose a few more mouths to feed won't exactly strain your budget, but mind they don't cause trouble or a scandal. Of course, someone must supervise them. Perhaps a governess ... I know just the woman ..."

Kaoru, once Chiyoko had translated that, snapped in English, "I am mother. And he am father!"

"And," Kenji said, "a stern mother she is."

"I understood that!" Kaoru swatted him.

"It's true, mother. You are the mean one. Kenshin is much nicer." He ducked away from her second attempt at a smack and hid behind Jessica. Mrs. Marshall frowned slightly at the exchange.

"Kenshin has a philosophy of letting you learn from your own mistakes," Chiyoko explained. "Sometimes I almost prefer Kaoru-mama's approach. She's usually right when she tells you not to do something. Kenshin just says, 'Do you think you should do that?'" She paused, considered, then added, "Generally, the proper answer to that question from Kenshin is No."

"Wise child," Emily said. "So you listen to your elders?"

"Aaa. Yes. Unless I have a very good reason not to." Chiyoko's words were honest -- and, after she translated her own words into Japanese for him -- Kenshin couldn't think of many times when she hadn't done as told.

Mrs. Marshall's expression lightened a bit. "I wish my daughter had been like that."

"Mother!"

Chiyoko snickered. "I imagine Jessica would have said 'yes' quite a bit if Kenshin had asked her, 'Should you do that?' when she was little."

"Quite true," Mrs. Marshall smiled for the first time, as Jessica made an indignant noise.

"Chi-chan!" Jessica snapped, sounding irritated.

"What?" Chiyoko asked, sweetly. "Is it not true?"

"No!" Jessica denied.

"Maa, maa," Kenshin said, sensing an incipient fight. It wasn't just the children who had been rendered cranky by confinement and bad weather, and a fight between Chiyoko and Jessica, of all people, in front of Emily Marshall was definitely something he didn't want. Chiyoko would likely back down and apologize in a hurry, but not before a bad impression had been made. In Japanese, he suggested to Jessica, "Perhaps we should start unpacking. It will give everyone something to do."

"Let the servants do it, though you may supervise if you wish," Jessica said, quietly, subsiding.

He had not yet become used to being waited on -- likely, he thought, he never would. He started to protest, then reminded himself that this wasn't his world. Perhaps he would offend the servants by not allowing them to assist him, or offend Jessica.

"I'll have a maid show them to their rooms -- Bessie!" Mrs. Marshall raised her voice a bit and summoned a servant by name.

A girl about Chiyoko's age appeared promptly. She was thin, and had unusually bad teeth even by the local standards, but she grinned brightly anyway. "Yes, Mrs. Marshall?"

"Put the Himuras up in the East wing room on the end, and the children in the attic bedrooms. Lord Trevor shall have a room of his own in the West wing ..."

Jessica interjected gently, "Mother, I've already written ahead with directions to the servants about the rooms they will have. They're all staying in West wing rooms. The rooms should already be aired out and ready for their things."

Mrs. Marshall frowned. Kenshin suspected that the East wing rooms were not nearly as nice as the West wing rooms -- a supposition that was born out when she said, "I heard about that, and I had your orders changed. I'm sorry, my dear, but the scandal would be ferocious if you put orientals up in your best rooms. They can stay in the servant's wing. I'm sure they won't mind; I daresay the rooms will be better than what they're used to in Japan. You know how to those people live there, I'm sure."

Chiyoko translated this, adding, "Kenshin, doesn't she realize we're right in front of her?"

Kenshin said quietly, and with some dismay and a little carefully concealed irritation, "Tell Mrs. Marshall that we'll take the rooms. I don't want to make trouble for Jessica."

"Absolutely not!" Jessica snapped, before Chiyoko had a chance to respond. "Bessie, if the rooms aren't ready that I requested, please go have the staff get them ready now. In the meantime, I suppose we can sit down for lunch."

Bessie bobbed a curtsey and then fled, looking abashed.

"I'll ask you not to countermand my orders to my servants, Mother!" Jessica said, honest anger flashing to her face once the servant girl was out of earshot. Kenshin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen that particular expression of fury on Jessica's face.

"But ..."

"And I don't give a damn about what people will say." Jessica stamped her foot, looking very childish. Kenshin was even more shocked by that. He didn't quite understand her words other than the profanity -- but her tone was outraged. "I don't!"

"Maa, maa," Kenshin said, holding his hands up and saying soothingly, "Jessica-chan, nothing is worth fighting with your mother over like this."

"Jessica!" Mrs. Marshall snapped, in a tone rather similar to the one that Kaoru would have used had any of their brood spoken to her that way. Kaoru would rapidly have followed that rebuke with a swat, too.

Jessica was on a rant now, however. In Japanese, but with a savage gesture with one hand at her mother, she continued, "Oh. Yes, it is. She'd have me treat you as if you are lower-class servants! I'll not give that sort of insult!"

"Jessica!" Mrs. Marshall repeated. Kenshin was honestly torn between siding with Jessica -- who was clearly on his side -- and with her mother. He would never have tolerated that kind of attitude from his children; he might have a reputation for being the 'nice' parent, but he had limits. On the other hand, he should probably be offended by her mother's attitude. On the third hand, his understanding of the situation -- and he cursed his lack of knowledge of the language -- was that Mrs. Marshall was concerned about how their presence would be perceived.

He was sympathetic to that. Kenshin didn't know a lot about upper class Brits but he knew appearances were very important to them.

"I would not be insulted," Kenshin said, trying to diffuse the situation. "Mou! This one is a humble man, Jessica. You know that."

"Pah!" She threw her hands in the air. "I won't have it. The issue is that my mother fears that people will talk because you're Japanese and I'm treating you as honored guests, or family. Kenshin-san -- Kaoru-chan -- you have never been anything but welcoming and open to me. You've treated me as one of the family and I am fully aware that Japan is just as bad about foreigners as British society is. If you can treat me as one of your family, I will do the same in return."

Chiyoko, meanwhile, was busily translating the discussion for Mrs. Marshall's benefit. Kenshin was glad for that; he didn't want the woman to think that they were talking about her secretly.

Mrs. Marshall said, "He doesn't mind, Jessica. Let it rest!"

"Absolutely not!" She rounded on her mother, turning away from Kenshin. "This is my house. Not yours. If you do not approve of me and those I consider dear friends and who will soon be family, you may leave."

Without skipping a beat, Chiyoko translated that into Japanese.

Kenshin shot her a look. She was rapidly going from 'competent' in English to 'completely fluent' -- though her eyes had a curiously unfocused look, perhaps because she was seeing someone else's memories.

Emily Marshall snorted. "You are a foolish child!"

"And this foolish child has turned a small fortune into a large fortune in less than a decade. I think I know a bit about what society will and will not accept! Anyone who has an issue with Kenji's family will get over it when they remember just how much wealth I have!" She spun on her heels and stalked off.

"Guess we follow her," Kenji said, sounding embarrassed.

"Mrs. Marshall, if you'll excuse us," Chiyoko said, formally, "we should probably follow Jessica."

"Yes, go," Emily Marshall said, with a sigh. "I swear, that girl ..."

-----------------------

The following day, after they were given the rooms that Jessica had originally intended, Kenji nibbled at the pastry that had come with his lunch while studying the empty space in the attic room that would be his art studio. It was early morning, and grey light that made it feel earlier than the actual late morning hour flowed through dormer windows.

"Will it work?" Jessica said, a little eagerly, beside him.

He nodded. "It will be great for painting. Thank you, koishii."

He padded to the window in his stocking feet and looked out at a green countryside. It was a beautiful view, and oddly familiar. Though he had no firm memories, only impressions, of his childhood, it felt as if he'd stood in a window and looked at a view like this before, long ago.

Chiyoko was down below him, he could identify her short, sturdy frame at this distance. She was sitting on a fence feeding something to several horses in a pasture. Shinya leaned on the fence next to her, long hair rippling in a very slight breeze.

As he watched, Chiyoko said something that made Shinya laugh so hard that the horses spooked back from the fence. Warily, they returned to Chiyoko, seeking more treats.

"Looks like Chi-chan found your horses," Kenji said, with a smile.

"Good. I'll have Jack take her out for a hack later. Jack's my trainer." Jessica watched Chiyoko and Shinya -- they were both now petting the horses. With a little concern, she said, "Do you think we should really be leaving those two unchaperoned?"

Kenji snorted. "Shinya is not going to be a problem with Chiyoko."

"How can you be so sure? Shinya's seventeen, Kenji. He's the definition of hormones."

"Because I've known him all his life," Kenji said, quietly. "Chi-chan has absolutely nothing to worry about from him."

"I don't follow your meaning."

Kenji scratched the back of his head. "Just trust me on this one. I'm pretty sure I'm right, but I don't want to say anything specific because I could be wrong, too." He paused. "Anyway, Father would have his gonads if he tried anything with Chi-chan. And he knows it."

Jessica gave him a suspicious look, but didn't pursue the issue further. Instead, she changed the subject, stating, "My uncle sent a cable from Japan -- he's coming home. He'll be here this summer, as soon as his commission's up."

Kenji said, absently, "He and Chi-chan seem to get along well."

"Yeah, but I don't think your father likes him much. I'm not sure what happened there." Jessica frowned. "Uncle Marshall told me to tell Kenshin he was 'sorry' once for some unspecified offense. All Kenshin would say was that Marshall was very drunk."

Kenji shrugged, having no idea either. "Speaking of unpleasantness, may I ask if your mother still angry at you?"

Jessica barked a short, unamused laugh. "My mother hasn't been pleased with me since the day I was born, Kenji. Don't worry about it. I am eternally grateful that I was raised by my father and not her -- she could not stand to be in the same house with my father. Their marriage was arranged, and he was much older, and, by her opinion, a most improper and scandalous man."

"I surely see his influence in you," Kenji teased.

She grinned. "And you love me for it."

"Well, yes."

"Anyway, I was the only offspring of that marriage, for obvious reasons, and I'm honestly surprised that I even happened. Mother must have decided that she wanted to keep up appearances by getting pregnant, I don't know ... I often thought Father wished a boy but decided to make do with me as a substitute heir. When she died when I was fifteen, his company and his property were all left to me -- in a trust that was administered by a family friend until I turned twenty-one, though I ran the business from that day forward, with the friend's oversight. Father chose well, in advisors for me, and made sure he'd trained me well. He was almost eighty when he died, Kenji."

She sighed. He heard pain, there, and knew she would never have spoken of this if the subject had not come up because of the fight she'd had with her mother.

"Mother got nothing. The two truly despised each other. She was ... furious ... and tried to take it out on me and she didn't back down until I threw her out of the house she was staying in. She apologized and I've let her stay in one of the houses since with a staff, but we do not get along in person -- though we do correspond regularly. She's much nicer and more loving in letters than she is in person!"

"I'm sorry," Kenji said. "You never said anything of this."

Jessica shrugged, a short, sharp, aggressive gesture. Kenji thought perhaps she had not wanted to bring up old hurts. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.

After a moment she said, "I'm so glad for your mother and father. Kaoru is like the mother I always wished I had. And Kenshin ... I'd hug him every time I saw him if I didn't think I'd embarrass him to death."

"Ah, if he died of embarrassment, he'd just come back to life," Kenji replied, deadpan.

She snickered into Kenji's chest. "Kenji, we need to set a date."

"A date?"

"For the wedding."

"Ah," he stroked her hair, silky strands flowing over his callused fingers. She snuggled into his arms, fitting so perfectly, so comfortably. "Can we elope?"

She slapped him in the chest. "Summer, I'm thinking. Maybe in three or four months. It'll give us time to prepare and the weather might be nice."

"Prepare?"

"I don't want a tremendously lavish affair, Kenji, but it will be a fairly big wedding. I have many business associates and friends who ought to attend, and there will be logistics involved." She made a face. "Don't worry, logistics is something I'm pretty good at. Though I might delegate the making of the guest list and the nitty-gritty details to my mother, believe it or not. Social occasions she's good at."

He nuzzled her hair. "Whatever you wish, Jessica."

She traced a finger down his powerful chest, feeling the muscles jump and twitch in response to her contact. "I know what I wish ..."

He laughed, a low rumble. "You've known what you wished for since the first day you met me, Jessica."

"Well, yes."

"Miss Marshall? Lord Kenji?" Bessie said, timidly, from the room's open door. "Pardon the interruption, but you have a caller."

"A caller?" Jessica prompted.

"It's Lord Byron Trevor." Bessie said. "He's waiting in the library."

"Your brother," Jessica prompted.

Kenji made a face.

"Actually, Byron's tolerable." Jessica said. "Viscount Trevor loathes him, and his brothers are not fond of him, but he's not a bad sort."

----------------

Lord Byron Trevor was seated in a chair in the library when they arrived. He didn't rise.

Unlike his brothers, he was not overweight. In fact, he was underweight -- a tall, skinny man with fingers that seemed too long for his hands and pale skin dotted with freckles. Thick glasses perched on a nose that had been broken more than once.

Familiar red hair curled around his ears. He was clean, which was immediately a point in his favor by Kenji's opinion. He'd made very few requests of Jessica, but he'd jokingly told her that his first use of her money as her husband would be to commission a proper Japanese style bath house ... to which she had replied she was already looking into it and it would be done well before the wedding.

Byron's blue eyes regarded Kenji thoughtfully for a moment before sayings, "Alastair, I presume?"

"Yes, please call me Kenji. Every time someone say Alastair, I wonder who is Alastair?" Kenji extended a hand for a western handshake.

Byron grasped it -- his hand was cool, dry, smooth. "I must say, you are not what I expected."

Jessica said, somewhat snidely, "What, not like your brothers?"

Byron snorted a laugh, to Kenji's surprise. "I feared there would be a third one of them, yes ..."

"Ani!" Yukio barreled into the room at that moment, before Kenji could react to Byron's words. He threw his arms around Kenji's legs, and announced loudly in Japanese, "Good morning!"

Kenji scooped him up. "Can you say that in English, Yuki-kun?"

"Good morning," Yukio said.

"Yukio, this is my brother, Byron. Say hello to Lord Byron."

Yukio eyed Byron suspiciously and said in Japanese, "He can't be your brother. You're my brother. He's not my brother too."

"Ah, but you can have more than one brother, brat, you know that. Say hello." Jessica prompted, ruffling Yukio's hair.

Suspiciously, Yukio studied Byron for a moment, then said, "Hello, Lord Byron -- Byron-san?"

The child had been confused about titles since he'd started learning English. Kenji ruffled his hair and explained in Japanese, "Just call him Lord Byron. Lord's even more polite than -san."

He set Yukio down -- Yukio promptly ran to a corner of the library where he'd already discovered a collection of picture books. Byron asked, "Whose child?"

"My father's," Kenji explained.

"Ah. The oriental man."

"Yukio's brother is mine as much as you are," Kenji said, quietly but very firmly.

That got a baffled look at from Byron. Jessica snorted and said, "Watch your word order, Kenji."

"Mou!" Kenji said, then to Byron, "I'm sorry. Words wrong order make meaning wrong and make stupid look Kenji. Let me again try ... Yukio is my brother ..." he glanced at Jessica, and got a nod of confirmation, "... as much as you are my brother. He is the brother of my heart."

To Jessica, with something approaching exasperation, he asked, "Was that right?"

"That was fine." She added to Byron, "I've been teaching Kenji English words since I met him, and seriously for the last several months when I thought he might come to England eventually -- he's doing well, I think."

Byron cleared his throat and smiled slightly. "I see."

"I am glad you came to meet me," Kenji said, glanced at Jessica, and then said, "Can we offer you anything? Tea?"

"Tea would be delightful. It's nippy out there." Byron smiled.

Jessica walked to the library door, summoned Bessie with a shout, and sent her off after tea and, "Some pastries, I'm not particular as to the kind, as long as they're fresh. Some biscuits. Some fruit. Go on."

The two brothers stared at each other for a moment before Kenji said awkwardly, "Afraid am did not make a best first meeting with William and George."

Byron grinned, suddenly, displaying a mouth full of white teeth that were reasonably intact except for one chipped front one. He brushed a stray red curl back from his eyes and said, "Those two! The Lord himself wouldn't make a good impression on them."

"The Lord ...?" Kenji wondered which lord.

"He means the Lord God," Jessica said, quietly, in Japanese. "The Christian God, Kenji. Be careful, here, what you say."

But Byron merely grinned suddenly. "I'm actually glad to meet you, too. One more person between me and the line of succession is a very good thing. And George not becoming Viscount Trevor someday is glorious indeed."

"I've no ... intention ... of stealing my brother's inheritance away," Kenji said, shaking his head firmly. "Jessica has enough for one humble husband."

"George is an ass," Byron said, bluntly, "I have nightmares about him inheriting. They are most unpleasant and I may chose to leave the country when he does. But -- you can judge his moral character for yourself eventually."

Kenji wasn't sure what to say to that, and wasn't entirely sure he understood Byron's words. Fortunately, Byron promptly changed the subject. "So, you were raised in Japan, were you?"

"Et-to ... yes."

"Interesting country. I have a lot of books on it. Will you tell me about it?" Byron said, eagerly, sounding younger than his years -- he was only two years younger than Kenji. "I want to go there, someday. The East fascinates me."

Kenji blinked, smiled, and said, "Japan is my home. I go back someday too. It is ... different ... Britain. Different to Britain?"

"Did you ever meet any samurai?" Byron practically bounced in his seat. "There's a samurai who sometimes comes to the manor on business for the Japanese minister. He's a splendid man."

Jessica snickered while Kenji was trying to figure out how to answer that. Jessica's snickers were worrying to Kenji; he suspected she knew something he didn't.

Kenji finally said, "The Meijii government ended ... samurai ... decades. Decades ago? Samurai are not ... official class ... anymore. But my adoptive father a very skilled samurai swordmaster. He fought during Meijii revolution. The very best. And the father of my mother, also a samurai. She ran a school of swordsmanship and trained me much growing up. I know many others, as well."

Byron's eyes lit up. "Could you show me?"

"Swordsmanship? I could teach you, yes ..."

"Not teach me. Show me. With this leg, I can't ever learn to fight. But I want to see." He grimaced. "George thinks he's good with a sword, but he's really not. Grandfather was good."

"Leg?" Kenji glanced down, noticing for the first time that George had a ... problem. There was a cane discreetly leaning against the arm of the chair. One of his legs appeared withered.

"Childhood paralysis. The doctors said I'd never walk. I proved them wrong." As if to make a point, he heaved himself to his feet, picked the cane up, and rested his left hand lightly on it.

"I'm sorry," Kenji said, at loss of what else to say. "I did not know."

His reaction was not what Kenji had expected. Byron snapped, "I don't need your pity, so don't give it. I'm no invalid! So -- would you be willing to give me a demonstration of swordsmanship? It is an amazing art."

"Et-to ... certainly, I could do that. If you don't mind, I'll change, and find someone to practice against."

-------------------

Shinya was a head shorter than Kenji, but twice as fast.

Kenji watched him warily, trying to predict his first move. He'd been sparring with Shinya in practice since he was not yet a teen and Shinya was only barely out of knappies -- and Shinya, in the last three or four years, had gotten good enough to honestly win about half their bouts. They could read each other with nearly psychic ease.

The boy stood barefoot on the grass, bokken held in both hands, brown eyes alert, wary. Sometime during the last ten minutes the tie holding his long black hair had come loose and his hair fell in a dark curtain across his back, rippling in the slight breeze. He was smiling.

Kenji stepped forward and fell into the easy rhythm of strike, block, strike, block, seeking an opening. Shinya, however, found the first mistake and slapped him on the thigh with the bokken.

Kenji then won by the simple expedient of fouling Shinya's bokken and knocking it out of his hand. It tumbled across the grass, fetching up against an ornate fountain.

"Bravo!" Byron cheered. "That was amazing!"

Kenji blushed in embarrassment. "Only practice."

Chiyoko, who was kneeling in the grass and mending a rip in one of Kaoru's gis with neat, efficient stitches, said, "Lord Byron, if you praise Kenji that much, he'll get a fat head."

"What is 'fat head'?" Shinya asked.

"Arrogant," Chiyoko provided the word in Japanese.

"Oh. Yes. Truth is!" Shinya agreed.

Kenji stuck his tongue out at both of them. "I'm not arrogant."

"That's because you have us and Jessica to keep you humble," Chiyoko said, serenely, as she held the mended gi up, inspecting her work.

Kenji picked the bokken up and regarded Byron thoughtfully. His brother had a withered leg, yes, but he was only using the cane for balance and he was surprisingly agile on steps and uneven ground. He'd kept up at a normal walking pace to the garden easily. And while walking outside from the library he'd casually mentioned that he'd ridden a horse over from Viscount Trevor's manor house.

Kenji tossed him the bokken. Reflexively, Byron put a hand up to catch it. Good reflexes, Kenji noted critically -- he'd reached for the hilt, accurately calculated the rate of spin, and snatched it out of the air without difficulty.

"Want a lesson?" Kenji asked.

"Surely, you jest!" Byron sounded outright offended.

Kenji shook his head, dismayed by his brother's reaction. "You interested in swords? -- You know it better if yourself do it."

"Have you missed the fact that I'm a cripple?" Byron snapped, bitterness and self-mockery rippling in his words.

Kenji stuck his own bokken out and gave Byron a hard thrust in the chest with it, shoving him backwards. Byron neatly caught himself with the cane and a swift movement with his crippled leg and then favored Kenji with an even greater glare.

"Ever be a master swordsmen? Never, not you ... but you move well enough to learn a lot." Kenji said, feeling he'd made his point. "No cripple, you. You can learn. If you want to. Teach you."

Byron hesitated.

Kenji started to thrust at him with wooden sword in his hand again. Byron batted it aside with the bokken that Kenji had tossed at him.

"Swords ... not about killing people. Not like we do. About ... Chi-chan, help me here," Kenji, frustrated by the language, appealed to her.

"Kamiya school is about discipline and fitness and personal mastery," Chiyoko said, promptly. "It's not about being the best, only about being your personal best. And it teaches them to defend others and stand up for those who are weaker and help those who need help. It's a school of swordsmanship that teaches peace."

She stood up, and said, "Lord Byron, how tall do you think I am?"

"Five feet?" He said, uncertainly.

"Four and a half. You're being nice." She walked over and held her hand out for Byron's bokken. Looking a bit confused, he handed it to her. "There's things I can't do with a sword because I'm short and just don't weigh enough. But I've mastered other techniques to compensate."

"You fight?" he said, incredulously.

"Kenji, want to spar against me?"

Kenji blinked at her. He had started her training, but Kenshin had taken over and she hadn't gone up against him since. In truth, he hadn't even seen her spar with Kenshin, as Kenshin was so dead-set on protecting the secrets of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu that he trained with her behind closed doors and without an audience. Kenshin doubtless wouldn't have minded if he'd asked to observe some of the training ... but he'd never summoned the nerve to ask.

He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know that Chiyoko was being taught to be a killer by a man who did not believe in killing.

Still, he saw the point she was intending to make. He nodded once. "Come at me."

He didn't have a chance. Kenji barely managed to block the first blow, lost his grip on the bokken on the second, and ended up flat on his back in the grass when she planted a foot in the middle of his chest a heartbeat later. The tip of her bokken tapped his throat. He wasn't sure how she'd managed to land on her feet when he'd gone down, because he was reasonably sure she'd been nearly upside down when she'd kicked him. He'd have a bruise, later -- not uncommon for sparring matches, but Chiyoko's bare foot was an unexpected source for the mark!

"Show off!" he accused her, without sitting up. In truth, he was a bit stunned by the vast difference in their levels of abilities. And he needed to catch his breath.

Was this why Kenshin had never sparred with him, had never offered to teach him his school but rather insisted that he learn his mother's? And why Hiko had never tried to teach him Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu either? He knew in his heart that, even if he practiced twelve hours a day for the rest of his life he'd never reach Chiyoko's level of sheer skill or anything even close to it.

Byron was staring at Chiyoko, looking awestruck. So, Kenji noted, was Shinya. Shinya had a very peculiar expression on his face.

Kenji laced his fingers together behind his head on the grass, trying to look casual. "I think Chiyoko's saying is if a little girl size of a mouse can beat me when I weigh three times more than her .."

"... twice ...!" Chiyoko corrected.

"Okay, maybe it is only twice, you have eat lots of biscuits ..." He covered his disconcerted shock with near reflexive teasing.

"... Kenji!" She protested the teasing with a shriek.

"... if Chiyoko can beat me, a big man with a limp ought to be able to learn swordsmanship for fun. Which is what I'm offering teach you."

Byron was silent for a long, long moment. Then he held his hand out towards Chiyoko. "Offer accepted," he said, gravely.

She handed him the bokken.

Kenji rolled to his feet, and started showing his brother the most basic moves, modified for use by a man who could only hold a sword with one hand. This would be pure fun, he thought -- no, Lord Byron would never be a warrior. But watching him realize he could do more than he ever thought ... Kenji was looking forward to this with utter glee.