The morning arrived like any other, but soon a flurry of movement took over the household. Lord Hale's personal items were gathered from his room and loaded into his carriage baggage rack. The final breakfast was grand enough for two visiting earls, not one future Earl. There were enough eggs for each person, including Stiles and the other scribes, to have nearly a dozen. There was cinnamon oatmeal enough for ten people, and five kinds of fruit were sliced and displayed on tower-like trays. Stiles had rarely seen such a feast for breakfast in his entire four years with the Argents. Earl Gévaudan was making one final display of wealth and power for Lord Hale.

Across the table, Stiles made frequent glances at Derek and was delighted to find his attempts mimicked by the lord. They tried to remain subtle, but Stiles couldn't help the smile on his face that lasted well throughout the meal and beyond.

Allison and her father kept the conversation from drifting too far into general rudeness – which Earl Gévaudan seemed to be determined toward – or from devolving into sweet flirtations – which Kate was adamantly attempting. Derek generally pretended neither of the two were even at the table, and that made Stiles grin even more.

"Why are you so happy?" Kate sneered at him as they moved into the entryway to bid Lord Hale goodbye.

"It's a beautiful day. Besides, don't you want me to seem happy while a lord is present?" Stiles asked, purposely dampening his grin.

"You look like a fool." Kate's mood was so sour that Stiles was surprised her morning milk hadn't spoiled in her mouth. But nothing she said was going to upset Stiles today – not after the night he'd had.

"I'll make sure to smile more in the future," Stiles replied. "It'll give you a reason to scold me, and you've always enjoyed that."

Her glare intensified, but Stiles moved away from her and toward the front doors, where the party had migrated to wave goodbye. Derek was giving his compliments to Earl and Lord Argent when Stiles stepped into the sun, shielding his eyes momentarily from the brightness.

"You should return quickly," Earl Gévaudan was saying with the most genuine positivity Stiles had possibly ever heard from him. The Earl's eyes flickered to his granddaughter and his smile turned mischievous. "I'm sure a certain someone will greatly miss your attention and company."

Derek did not glance back at Stiles, but that may have been too much of a giveaway if he had. He did, however, follow Earl Gévaudan's glance to Allison.

"I'm sure I will be grieved to leave some of this company behind as well," he said. He turned fully to Allison and bowed. "Lady Allison," he said in parting.

"It was a pleasure to assist you, Lord Hale," she said, curtseying.

"Earl Gévaudan. Lord Argent," Derek said, turning and inclining his head to both men in turn.

"You're welcome back any time," Lord Argent assured. "My best wishes for your father's health."

Then Derek was in his carriage and mostly blocked from view. Only then, when everyone was in the same direction for him, did Derek's eyes find Stiles. And Stiles was certain it was him, and no one else, that Derek was looking at, for he'd already made his farewells to the others.

They held eye contact until the carriage began to move and Derek was pulled out of view around the bend of the drive. Stiles wanted to stand there until the whole carriage was out of view, but the Argents all moved as one back into the house and he was swept up in their tide.

"A fine visit, I think," Earl Gévaudan was saying, looking rather pleased. "I should say it won't be long until we hear news of an engagement."

"Father-" Lord Argent began haltingly.

"Engagement?" Kate spun to face her father, shoes squeaking on the tiled floor.

"Of course!" Gerard laughed darkly and motioned proudly at Allison. "Our young Allison here did a standup job. I daresay the foolish young lord is quite smitten with her."

"Grandfather, I-" Allison tried to protest, but her words were bowled over.

"Allison?" Kate's voice was venomous. "I'm the one who wrote to him, who managed to grab his attention and got him to visit us in the first place. Yet you interfered with me at every step! It should be me, not Allison, receiving your praise. And it should be me, not Allison, becoming a countess!"

"You?" Gerard laughed again, a mirthless sound this time. "I wouldn't give you the honor of considering such a thing. You've embarrassed me one too many times. Given your last great blunder, I'd have thought you'd learned by now – you will only ever be as good as the man you marry, and there seems to be no man in line for the honor." He sniffed derisively. "You think I'd let you flirt your way into a title anywhere near my own? Don't flatter yourself, dear. It's not becoming of a lady."

"If I were a son-!" Kate shouted.

"If you were a son!? If you were a son, you would still be an untitled, ungrateful second child!" Earl Gévaudan shouted right back. "Now leave my sight until you have something worth my attention!"

Huffing, Kate turned and stormed away, her unnecessarily ruffled dress swaying around her. They could hear her shuffling outfit long after she had gone, and that was the most embarrassing part.

Lord Argent took up a similar but different argument in her stead. "Father, be serious. Allison is not interested in marriage. She wants to go to school – to a university. She has no time for-"

"No time? Nonesense!"

Allison tugged on Stiles' hand to get his attention and motioned with her head to make for her room. He shifted toward the staircase but hesitated when Earl Gévaudan spoke again, this time much quieter.

"Off with the rest of you. Let this old man rest." He slowly made his way toward his study, and Stiles and Allison wasted no time in escaping up the stairs. Lord Argent lingered in the entryway, his eyes slowly watching his daughter leave and then drifting toward his father's back. Stiles still had no idea what went on inside that man's head.

Allison shut the door behind Stiles and then moved quickly to take a seat on the chaise. "So? You've been beaming all morning. Did something happen?"

With a dreamy sigh, Stiles let himself flop most ungracefully onto the bed. "So much," he said. "You would blush at some of the things."

She giggled mischievously. "Oh, do tell. Was it more kissing? Did he perhaps let his fingers caress your collarbone?"

"I never kiss and tell, my dear," Stiles teased. "But suffice it to say that if your aunt was aware of what happened in the study last night, she'd never want to sit on that sofa again."

Allison gasped. "You don't mean-"

Stiles jumped up to lay on his side facing her. "I most certainly do. Your friend Stiles defiled that couch in ways he was not aware were possible. Well, two ways, at least. The other way was pretty standard, I think. Although it was my first time, so I'm not exactly an expert."

Allison chucked the chaise's pillow at him, which he failed to block. "Oh God, Stiles! You rake!" she exclaimed. "I have to go in there sometimes! I'm never going to be able to sit on the couch again!"

Shrugging haplessly, Stiles said, "You wanted the details."

After a halting minute, Stiles smiled at her and she couldn't help but grin at him too. Her cheeks were hot with embarrassment that Stiles should feel but didn't. In a quieter voice, she asked, "Was it good?"

Stiles thought back to the three times Derek had gotten him off the night before, of the look on the lord's face, of the closeness of their bodies even when they weren't moving. "Yes," he said. "It was most definitely the best night of my life."

"I'm sorry he had to leave," Allison said suddenly, frowning at him.

"Me too. But he promised he'd come back soon. I'm not used to such good luck, but I'm trying to stay positive for once." Stiles sat up and rested his arms over his knees. "Although it is hard listening to your grandfather trying to marry you to him."

She snorted. "Pay him no mind. He doesn't know what he's talking about. I have no interest in Lord Hale, and clearly he has no interest in me. If he had, it wouldn't have been you in the study last night."

Stiles agreed, and they moved on to another subject. They sat down to play cards, but every few turns Allison would pause and make some exclamation or comment about Stiles and Derek or what they did. She was torn between righteous embarrassment and a sort of curious jealousy, but she never said as much. Stiles could see all the questions she had about the intimacies of what happened as though they were written in the blush on her cheeks.

The bell downstairs rang, announcing the arrival of the post, and Stiles had half a mind to go down and check for any letters to Kate, but decided against it. If Kate required him, she'd call for him. He was enjoying the morning with his best friend – the only way he could stop himself from beginning to mourn the loss of Derek.

When the lunch bell rang, Stiles and Allison finally stopped their game and Allison had to concede defeat. Having lost at far more games than badminton to Allison, Stiles held this victory close and tried not to gloat about it. He did beam incessantly though, which had Allison elbowing him all the same.

They descended the stairs and came face to face with Lady Katherine and her father. Earl Gévaudan was reading a letter, his face turning almost purple with rage. When Stiles and Allison reached the bottom floor, his furious eyes snapped up to Stiles.

"Is this true?" he barked, shaking the letter.

"Is what true?" Stiles wanted to say he wasn't psychic, but it seemed like a bad idea given the man's fury.

"A letter arrived for Lord Hale this morning. Lady Katherine brought it to my attention. What excuse do you have for this?" Earl Gévaudan held the letter in both hands to stop it from shaking and read aloud. "Dear nephew, I have looked into the subject you requested and discovered an interesting amount about the dealings between Baron Goodwater and Lady Katherine Argent. Your little lover had quiet the impressive father."

He stopped there and faced Stiles again, and Stiles resisted stepping closer. "You read his mail?" Stiles asked, forehead knitting in agitation. "How dare-"

"How dare?!" Earl Gévaudan roared. "Why you insignificant- How dare you! You've been sneaking around betraying this family for months, and you dare question me?"

Stiles didn't even get to form the words. Before he could ask how he'd been betraying them for months, Kate held up a stack of letters tied together with a string. Her face was deliciously pleased.

"Been keeping a secret pen pal, have we?" she asked, and her expression turned dark. "You've made a fool of me. Did the two of you find it amusing to use my letters as pack mules for your disgusting correspondence?"

"There's nothing disgusting about them," Stiles argued and made to reach for his letters. Kate pulled them out of reach and sneered at him. With no hesitation, she backhanded him, leaving his face stinging and red. Allison shouted in alarm.

"A fine time to lie, Stiles, but you can't hide anymore. A scullery maid saw you last night." Her lips curled further in distaste. "Two grown men, humping like animals."

Now it was Earl Gévaudan who grabbed Stiles, pulling him forward several feet and causing him to stumble. "Lord Hale was meant to marry Allison! How dare you use your filthy flirtations to stray his attentions! Were you distracting him every time the three of you went out? I ought to-"

And though he said 'ought to', he fulfilled the desire to bring a fist to Stiles' gut and sent him heaving to the floor. Stiles held his stomach, gasping and wheezing and trying not to choke on air. Allison stepped up and wedged herself between Stiles and her grandfather.

"Stop! Stop it!" she cried. "It's not his fault! Lord Hale has no interest in me, or Kate for the matter. He was never going to marry us!"

Gerard did not raise a hand to his granddaughter, but his murderous eyes never left Stiles either. Kate, however, had no problem manhandling her niece and quickly ripped her aside, exposing Stiles again.

"I refuse to believe that," Gerard snapped. "If you'd kept your filthy-" He kicked Stiles while the scribe was still catching his breath and knocked him back against the stairs. "-deceitful-" Another kick. Stiles tried to block it, but it just felt like his recently healed fingers were about to snap from the pressure and didn't soften the blow much at all. "-revolting hands to yourself!"

"Wait," Stiles gasped, cradling his hands together as they throbbed.

"I will not." The Earl threw an actual punch straight to Stiles' cheek. Usually he avoided this to save his own hands, but he was truly furious now. "You made a fool of me under my own roof! I'll see what that foolish young lord will do when I send him your corpse! Maybe then he'll realize he's not any better than my family, not now and definitely not when his father finally croaks, which should be soon if I've heard right."

Kate actually chuckled and looked far too pleased for the moment. The dark thought that had entered Stiles' mind in the library came rushing back. Had she done something to Earl Beacon, to Derek's father?

"What did you do?" he croaked, his whole torso aching.

"I didn't do anything," Kate said, too smug, and he knew she was lying.

"Why you-"

Stiles tried to push himself off the stairs, but Gerard shoved him back down. Stiles let out an involuntary whimper when his back smashed into the wood.

"You do not speak to my daughter in that manner," the old man sneered. Kate preened with pride. In her arms, Allison struggled to pull away.

"Grandfather! Please-"

"Or what?" Stiles growled, pushing himself up again. He was being beaten regardless, so he might as well say what was on his mind. "You wouldn't have ever gotten your dirty claws into the Hale family, whether or not I was here. Derek knows better than to associate himself with the grime of your daughter. Even you said she's too wild-"

Gerard was on him, hand over his mouth in a grip so tight that his teeth ached. Gerard's other hand snatched up Stiles' wrist so that he had one less hand to defend himself with, though Stiles still attempted to pull himself free with his non-dominant hand.

"Do not attempt to tell me my own thoughts, boy," the old man growled. "I don't care what my daughter has done. She's an Argent, and that makes her above the reproach of someone like you." He sneered, as though the sight of Stiles was making him ill. He raised his voice to Kate. "Take Allison away."

"What? No!" Allison was squirming so hard that Kate had to fight just to hold onto her. The older woman nodded, though she looked displeased at the idea, and began to jerkily drag her niece away. "No! Grandfather, please wait. Think about what you're doing!"

Gerard held Stiles in place as Allison's calls became fainter, and then a door clicked shut down the hall and her voice became a distant muffle. When they were alone in the hall, Gerard smirked.

"Do you believe I ever make empty threats, Stiles?" he asked. Stiles couldn't answer through the grip on his mouth, but his mind raced, trying to remember what threat Gerard had made. He could think of only one thing that was even slightly a threat, and he tried to shout out, but his cheeks were being squeezed too tightly. Gerard's smile could only be called sadistic. "Yes, that's right. I will not let my family be made a fool of, by a scribe or by an Earl. Derek Hale will know that when he receives each one of your fingers in separate boxes."

Stiles couldn't free his trapped hand and he couldn't pry the old man's fingers off his face. Heart hammering, mind panicking, he did the only thing he could – he lashed out with a foot. Gerard jumped back to dodge it, freeing Stiles' face. How was this old man so spry?

"Oh, ho! Got some spirit left in you, eh boy?"

Stiles scrambled back and tried to run up the stairs, but Gerard caught his ankle. Jerked back, Stiles missed the next step and slammed down into the steps, his chin hitting hard and sending sparks flaring behind his eyelids. Luckily he didn't bite his tongue, but it was close. Brain still clouded by the pain of the impact, Stiles didn't try to look or think about his next backward kick. He caught Gerard in the wrist, freeing himself once more, but he was too disorientated to get very far. His attempt to go up the stairs turned into a stumble into the railing, and he could hear Gerard laughing behind him.

"Get your ass back here, you pathetic good-for-nothing."

Somewhere down the hall, Allison was still calling out. No. That wasn't Allison. That was his own voice. He called for help, but his voice sounded distant in his own ears. His head's impact must have jostled something, and he couldn't hear anything properly. Gerard was pulling him back down again, laying him out on the bottom floor in a flimsy heap. When the kicking started, Stiles tried to curl up to protect his stomach, tried to cover his head to protect that too, but he felt sluggish and couldn't keep up with the blows. He tried to swipe back, but he couldn't see straight, and caught air as often as he clipped Gerard.

Derek, he thought. Someone needed to warn Derek! Kate had poisoned his father somehow. What if she tried to poison Derek next?! Tears stung his eyes, ripped from him by the pain. Someone needed to tell Derek- tell him that Stiles had fought back this time. He hadn't just let Gerard beat him to death. And tell him-

"Tell Derek, I-"

Maybe I loved him.