16
"You are rich; quite a lord."
Silence. Ianto is flabbergasted.
"Your fortune is vested in the English funds; Briggs has the will and all the necessary documents. You can enter on immediate possession. "At last, Ianto looks questioningly up at him. Stan-Lee sighs "Your forehead unbends at last; I thought you were turning to stone. Perhaps now you will ask how much you are worth."
"How much am I worth?"
"Oh a trifle. Twenty thousand pounds - but what of that?"
The news literally takes Ianto's breath away. "Twenty thousand pounds?
Stan-Lee begins to laugh at Ianto's reaction. Ianto has never seen him laugh before. He chokes out to Ianto "If you'd committed a murder and I'd found you out, you could scarcely look more aghast."
"There must be some mistake. It's two thousand, surely." Ianto splutters.
"It's twenty. You look desperately miserable about it, I must say."
Ianto still cannot take it in. He frowns in disbelief. "Why did Mr Briggs write to you?"
"You see, that is the strange thing. It makes me wonder what power or providence led you to our door. Your name is Ianto Jones."
"Yes."
"Then I'm you namesake. I was christened Stan-Lee Ianto Jones Rivers."
"Stan-Lee Ianto Jones" Ianto whispers with confusion.
"My mother had two brothers," he explains to Ianto "one was a clergyman, your father, the other was John Jones of Madeira. Mr Briggs wrote to inform us that the clergyman's son was lost. I have been able to find him out; that is all."
"Your mother was my father's sister?"
"Yes."
"My uncle John was your uncle John?" Ianto struggles to understand.
"That is correct."
"So you, Diana and Mary …"
"We are cousins, yes."
Ianto is deeply moved. "Oh, I am glad! - I am glad!"
Ianto throws his arms around Stan-Lee. Tears of happiness start to flow. Stan-Lee, finding it peculiar to be held, gently tries to calm him. "Here you are neglecting essential points to pursue trifles. You were utterly downhearted when I told you that you were rich and now, for a matter of no moment, you are deliriously happy."
"Of no moment? You have sisters and maybe don't care for a cousin but I have nobody. I have been alone, always. And now three relations are born into my world full grown. Oh, I am glad. You, who saved my life …"
"You must try to tranquillise your feelings." Stan-Lee grunts.
Ianto finally releases him, still radiant with joy. "Write to Diana and Mary. Tell them to hand in notice and come home. They will have five thousand each and so will you."
"I've told you the news too quickly." Stan-Lee gapes "You're confused."
"Don't put me out of patience, cousin. I am rational enough." Ianto assures him "Twenty thousand divided equally between the nieces and nephews of our uncle, gives five to each."
Stan-Lee shakes his head "This is acting on first impulse. You don't know what it is to have wealth"
"And you cannot imagine - family - I never had a home. I never had brothers and sisters …" A terrible thought occurs to him. "You are not reluctant to own me, are you?"
Stan-Lee takes his hand. Ianto has surprised and moved him.
He looks at him, seeing him anew. "Ianto, I will be your brother."
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SPRING - THE MOORS.
Ianto, Diana and Mary are running over the moors. Mary has a kite. They are as delighted as children.
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Ianto is sitting at the kitchen table letting Diana style his hair. They all have new summer clothes on. There is a lightness to all three as if a great weight has been lifted from their shoulders.
Diana is setting Ianto's hair into curls like Stan-Lee's. Ianto looks at himself in the mirror; softer, gentler, different.
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The cousins each have a candle. Stan-Lee kisses Mary. He kisses Diana.
"Good night."
"You call Ianto your brother but you don't treat him as such. You should kiss him too."
Ianto turns to Diana, embarrassed. "Di, you are very provoking."
As he turns back, he finds Stan-Lee's face right in front of him. He kisses Ianto. A kiss with no warmth; an experiment. He examines its effect. He is satisfied.
"Good night." Stan-Lee politely bows.
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Ianto closes the door to his bedroom. He puts his hand across his lips.
The icy kiss has agonised him with the full force of his loneliness. He curls up in a ball, desperate.
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A glorious summer sunset. Ianto is digging at a flower bed, putting all his passion into the task. He is flushed with exertion. Stan-Lee watches. "You are wasted here."
"Am I not being useful?" Ianto seems worried.
"You should look beyond Moor House," Stan-Le counsels "beyond the selfish calm and comfort of affluence."
"Beyond to what?"
"I go to India in six weeks."
"So soon?" Ianto get to his feet with surprise.
Stan-Lee draws Ianto away from him work.
"I can see what your gifts are and why they were given. Come with me." Ianto is utterly crestfallen. He looks at his feet as Stan-Lee continues "God and nature intended you for a missionary's mate. You are formed for labour not for love. I want to claim you - not for my pleasure but for God's service."
"I'm not fit for it. I have no vocation."
"You're far too humble."
"Stan-Lee have mercy. I feel my mind shrinking …" Ianto tries to comprehend the possibility of a chaste life …well … isn't it already?
"Don't be afraid. You are diligent, faithful, docile, courageous, gentle and heroic. Cease to mistrust yourself. I trust you unreservedly. Let me give you time to think. But know this; in you, I recognise a fellow soul, a soul that would revel in the flame and excitement of sacrifice."
Ianto is chilled to the bone by his words. Stan-Lee leaves the garden and walks away over the moors.
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Ianto is leaning against the garden wall, trying to think, trying to compose himself. The sun is setting. Why must his life find turmoil.
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Ianto carrying a candle, opens the door to the parlor. Stan-Lee is at the table working by lamp light. The moon shines brightly in.
"I used to long for a life of action, to overleap the horizon, to move in the world of men. Maybe God is giving me this. And what is there for me here? Pain and longing for what can't be. I don't know how long I would survive in India. My frame isn't strong. But I'll go with you, if I may go free."
"Free?"
"You and I had better not marry."
"Why not?"
"Because I am your brother."
"But you'll go with me." Stan-Lee looks hopeful.
"Conditionally - as your curate."
"Ianto, I don't need a curate; I need a mate" Stan-Lee implores.
"I must have my heart and mind free, my own self to turn to. I couldn't become part of you …" Ianto argues.
"A part of me you must become or the whole bargain is void. How can I, a man not yet thirty take out to India a boy of nineteen, unless he is my mate? Don't offer God half a sacrifice. He must have all. And undoubtedly enough of love would follow to make the union right, even in your eyes."
Ianto is shocked. "Enough of love?"
"Yes, quite enough."
"Stan-Lee, I scorn your idea of love. I scorn the counterfeit sentiment you offer and I scorn you when you offer it!" Ianto is insulted as he sees the trap being set. Has he not seen this before?
Stan-Lee is mortified. A slow rage begins to boil in him. "I've uttered nothing that deserves scorn."
"Forgive me but the very name of love is an apple of discord between us. My dear cousin, please abandon your scheme of marriage." Ianto turns away, intending to leave the conversation.
"No; and if you reject it, it's not me you deny but God."
Ianto is stung as he swings back to gape. Stan-Lee has turned from him. His face is icy in the moonlight.
"Do not be angry with me please." Ianto whispers "It makes me wretched. I want us to be friends."
"We are friends. I hope we can be more."
"I cannot come as your mate." Ianto is set now.
"Why this refusal? It makes no sense!"
"If I were to marry you, you'd kill me. You're killing me now"" Ianot is desperate to make him understand.
Stan-Lee is furious now, "I'd kill you? I am killing you? Your words are violent, unkind and untrue …"
"You'd kill me without drawing any blood or receiving on your conscience any stain of crime."
"What nonsense is this?" Stan-Lee scoffs and Ianto sees him as the man he is. Like all the others. False.
"You'd experience no pain - but I tell you it would kill me!"
"Why?"
"Because I would inevitably come to conceive love for you, because you are so talented and good, because there is such grandeur in your look. You wouldn't want this strange and torturing love; if I showed it you would find it unbecoming. And my lot would be wretched." Ianto sobs, his arms flapping.
Stan-Lee sighs, his face now soft as he understands the pain being caused now "Ianto..."
"You're a good man, but you forget the feelings of little people. We'd better keep out of your way lest you trample us." Ianto replies, wanting them to remain as friends, family. He knows this was some brain fart and Stan-Lee now sees that you cannot love a wraith.
Stan-Lee's anger has faded. He is compassionate. This is far harder to resist. "I wouldn't trample you. You'd walk at my side towards God's altar. He'd be your solace, heaven your reward. We seek to do the greatest work, to open death's gates, to save souls. Love God Ianto, love God."
Stan-Lee puts his hand on Ianto's forehead; Christ-like. Ianto is falling under his power. "Give up your heart to Him. He is love."
Ianto falls to his knees. Stan-Lee's face is angelic. "If I were sure; if I were certain …"
She suddenly hears a voice: Jack's; clear, urgent.
Ianto! Ianto! Ianto!
He springs away from Stan-Lee, crying "Oh God, what is it?"
He looks wildly about the room; rushes to the window.
"What have you heard? What can you see?"
Ianto glances at him, seeing him for what he is; a cold, controlling man. He shouts "I am coming!"
He runs out, leaving Stan-Lee aghast, behind him.