AN

Here is the continuation of FMBaH which takes place in May 1812. This part is Mostly EPOV and we backtrack a little and start this in early March 1812 with a little history...

1.

Anyone who knew my Lord Carlisle well knew that he was not at his best in the morning. So when his beautiful and graceful lady asked him if he would care for some more toast and he only responded with a grunt she did not take it amiss and instead busied herself with refilling her cup with fresh tea.

Breakfast was Lady Carlisle's favourite time of the day. An informal occasion, the servants were kept to a minimum and the family waited on themselves. Although if the truth were told Lady Carlisle did rather enjoy ensuring that her husband was supplied with his favourite breakfasts herself. She woke unfashionably early in order to keep her lord company and while he was not given over to idle chatter she found that after he had imbibed at least two cups of tea he was rather more inclined to listen to her soft tones. She bided her time to discuss with him plans for the day which included arrangements for a sedate ride together through the grounds of Kirkland Abbey the large estate that came to him on the death of the previous earl and would go to their beloved Edward when their time was done.

She watched as her husband indulgently as he read his way through the mound of letters beside his plate. Although they were both now on the shady side of sixty she still thought him to be the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was neatly and correctly attired for breakfast, not for the Earl of Carlisle the informality of dressing gowns at the breakfast table. He would change again for riding, his seat in the saddle as upright as the day they had met. As if he could hear her thoughts, he lifted his eyes to hers and smiled with that peculiar sweetness that few ever saw and which always melted her heart.

Over forty years had passed since she had vowed to honour and obey her husband and while his hair was now more silver than gold and time had thickened her figure somewhat, he was still her favourite person to spend time with despite his uncertain morning temper.

The door to the breakfast room opened softly, the entire household was aware that my lord Carlisle did not appreciate people bouncing into rooms, and revealed Edward himself fresh from his early morning ride and probably ravenous. She gestured for him to sit beside her at the table and he strolled across the room, pausing briefly to lay his hand on his father's shoulder as he passed. Carlisle lifted his gaze from the letter he was perusing and his rather cool blue eyes warmed as he greeted his heir.

"Father," Edward said gravely.

"Edward," Carlisle nodded briefly and went back to his correspondence.

Edward continued round the broad walnut table and bent to kiss his mother's soft cheek.

"Good morning Mama. May I say what a very fetching cap that is?" he smiled and his mother patted the rich lace that he had admired and smoothed down the dove grey morning gown.

"Edward, did you and Emmett have a pleasant ride?"

"We did thank you."

"Any news on Dainty?"

Edward coughed and rolled a glance over to his father who did not appreciate stable talk at the table.

"Oh pooh Edward, your father bought the mare for me himself, of course we are concerned for her first foaling."

"No news yet Mama, Emmett stopped to have a chat with Greene, I daresay he will be here shortly."

"Then you had better take some kippers now before your cousin arrives and there is nothing left. Would you care for some egg also?" As she said this, Lady Carlisle rose and made her way over to the large sideboard filled with various dishes. She lifted a large silver lid and inspected the contents.

"Thank you Mama, you know just what I like. Shall I ring for more tea?"

"Already done cousin, I saw Berty in the hall and sent him off."

Lady Carlisle jumped slightly but was proud that she had not squeaked. She frowned over at her large nephew. She never could accustom herself to his silent entrances.

He lifted his hands in mock appeal as he walked towards the laden sideboard, "But even the scullery maid knows that my lord does not like noise at breakfast!" his eyes twinkled down at her as he niftily stole a piece of bacon from Edward's plate.

Edward laughed softly while his father growled a little. Lady Carlisle moved the plate away from Emmett's thieving fingers

"It is kind of you my dear to take Carlisle's preferences into consideration but I would be very grateful if you would make just a little noise sometimes, just so that I know you are there. Unless you wish for me to drop dead from nerves?"

"Nonsense Aunt," Emmett said bracingly. "You will outlive us all," another piece of bacon followed the first.

"I will certainly outlive you for if you do not stop stealing food from your cousin's plate not even your dimples will save you from my wrath."

Emmett dipped from his towering height to press a kiss onto his aunt's cheek, scooped up another plate holding the delicate china precariously in his massive hand and started collecting his formidable breakfast. Edward received his plate from his mother with a quiet word of thanks and she refreshed Carlisle's tea without him asking her. He was in the middle of opening yet another letter but he dragged his attention away to lift an eyebrow at his giant nephew as he sat very quietly to the earl's left and prepared to eat.

"Dainty?" the earl enquired.

"Is well, eating her head off, enjoying light exercise and probably ready to drop her foal any day now."

"You will let me know how things turn out?"

"Of course Uncle."

"What do you plan on doing with the foal, mother?" Edward asked.

"I have not considered it much. If it is a filly then I think I should like to keep her and train her for a saddle horse, especially if Dainty takes to life as a brood mare. If it is a colt then…well, Emmett is in charge of the bloodlines…

"Damn it to Hell and the devil himself!" Carlisle exploded; he crumpled the letter in his fist and leapt up from the table.

His son and nephew exchanged startled looks at each other. But his wife was stricken; she looked down at her plate, a flush spreading across her face. Edward reached out a hand to clasp her wrist. She shot him a tremulous smile but remained silent. Carlisle was across the room, staring out the window across the wise lawns in front of him, his fist clutching convulsively at the heavy brocade. It was very obvious that a great deal more than stable talk at the breakfast table was bothering him but Edward wanted to alert his father to his mother's upset.

"Father," Carlisle took no notice but breathed in heavily through his nose. "Father," this time Edward's tone was more urgent. When Carlisle's gaze met his son's Edward nodded toward his mother who was still distressed at his father's outburst.

The earl strode swiftly over to his wife and knelt beside her chair.

"Esmerelda…my dear" he stroked her hand. "Esme," he said softly. "I beg your pardon for my infamous language. You must know that I would never speak so to you. Please forgive me."

Lady Carlisle nodded and pressed her husband's hand.

"It must be terrible news indeed," she answered. "Can you tell us? Or would you prefer me to leave?"

"It is appalling news to be certain and I would far rather not let you know but it is inescapable," he kissed his wife's hand and rose. Obviously too annoyed to be still he strode across the room and back. He breathed in deeply and spoke once more. "I received word today from our other nephew…"

"Laurent. Oh no," Lady Carlisle breathed.

"The mail from the Continent is of course slow due to the war but he writes to inform me of the glad news of his marriage…"

Lady Carlisle smiled in relief but she faltered a little at her husband's expression "to a French opera dancer. It took place just before Christmas. She could well be with child by now." He nodded his approval of his wife's sudden expression of dismay. "Further more he bestows upon me a list of his debts…" the earl waved three closely written sheets. "And requires me to sell his mother's 'baubles' and send the money to him in order that he may keep his wife…" Carlisle said the word through gritted teeth. "…in the style to which she wishes to become accustomed."

"Well it is very natural that he wishes for our sister-in-laws jewellery to come to him. It is natural that he should wish to care for his wife." Esme was struggling to sound cheerful.

"They are not the baubles to which he refers. No, Laurant is after something very much more substantial than the pearls and sundry pretty items that my brother bestowed upon his wife." The earl raised his eyebrows expressively and his wife made an instinctive gesture of denial. He nodded.

Edward had always appreciated the intimacy between his parents that allowed them to communicate so effectively without words but he remained confused.

"Of what are you speaking father?"

"Laurent is of course referring to the Kirkland rubies."

Emmett laughed in disbelief.

"I do not joke dear nephew. He wishes me to sell the entire set. The tiara, necklace, earrings and bracelet of matching pigeons blood rubies that have belonged to the family since the Restoration. Bestowed upon the first earl by King Charles II himself as a reward for loyalty, traditionally given to the first bride of the generation. They no more belonged to his mother than they belong to me. We keep these things in trust for future generations! And he wishes me to sell them in order to squander the money on his opera dancer!" A pressing silence filled the room while Carlisle took a deep breath and turned once more to look out across the Kirkland grounds. His gaze rested on the broad lawns, dotted with wild daffodils just starting to bud. He considered the wide gravel paths, the gardens to which his wife devoted so much enthusiasm and consideration. He thought of the home farm, the people that lived and worked on his lands. He thought of all that he had loved and worked for under Laurent's control. When he spoke next his voice was dangerously quiet.

"And this Edward, is your heir. A man who will sell anything regardless of history or pride. He will pillage this estate like a plague. It cannot be tolerated. It will not be tolerated."

Carlisle rolled an agonised glance over to his second nephew.

"I would to God that you had been the son of my second brother rather than my third. If you had been then Edward could have continued to adhere to his vow to remain unmarried. Previously to this I hoped that Laurent's chequered career would have got him killed by now, either by duelling or the pox. Do not gasp Esme! You never liked him, even as a boy, and you can see the good in everyone. Laurent is a bully, a gambler, a libertine and a scoundrel. I have long refused him admittance under my roof but now he is wed and possibly a father to be. He is settled and establishing his line but his character will remain unchanged. Our course is obvious. Edward must marry, he must get an heir of his own body and Laurent must go to the devil and whistle for rubies from him, for he will not get them from me!"

The earl paused to review the effect of his pronunciation on his family. Emmett had stopped eating, which said all that needed to be said for his part. Edward sat at the table, frozen, with a blank expression. Esme, however, nodded firmly at her husband and wrapped a comforting hand around her son's wrist.

"I must see to this matter immediately," Carlisle stated. "I will be in my study if needed. Esme my dear, I will speak with you later. Edward…come to my study in an hour if you please." And with a firm press of his son's shoulder, the earl left the room.

Exactly an hour and a half later Edward closed the study door behind him. The earl had been kind, sympathetic even but utterly implacable and Edward could see his point of view. While there was a fair chance that Laurent would eventually get himself killed by his choice of lifestyle there was little to worry about but evidently he was now confident of inheriting the earldom and had every intention of bleeding the estate dry when he did so. Centuries of tradition would be disrupted but more importantly, the people who depended on the Earl for leadership and protection would be cast into the hands of an irresponsible knave. Laurent could not be allowed to inherit and while Edward would have happily handed over the estate to Emmett and any children he might yet have, he could not in good conscience allow Laurent to become earl after him. Sacrifices were sometimes a necessary thing and this time his was the sacrifice. Edward prepared himself as best he could to be bent over the altar of matrimony.

2.

"I admit I fail to see the problem," Emmett stated as he set up the billiard table.

Edward loosened his cravat, coats had long been cast over the green leather chaise and now in their shirtsleeves they looked positively disreputable. Dinner had been subdued but not uncomfortable. Edward was too well bred to make a display of his emotions even to his nearest family but there was no doubt that they were treating him very gently indeed. Lady Carlisle had the great good sense not to attempt to cheer her son up but he noticed that many of the dishes at dinner had been his particular favourite and she had beguiled the conversation with favourite family stories. The gentlemen drank only one glass of port after dinner and joined Esme in the drawing room very quickly where Edward had played the piano with his customary dazzling skill in thanks for his family's gentle thoughtfulness. Emmett had played cribbage with Carlisle and, when the earl and countess had bade them goodnight very shortly after the appearance of the tea tray, he had suggested a few games of billiards obviously anticipating Edward's inability to sleep.

Emmett made three beautiful shots and then lost the ball. He rolled his cuffs up to his elbow displaying his heavily muscled arms and then searched around in his discarded coat for his cigarillo case. He lit the cheroot from a nearby candle and inhaled the fragrant blue smoke, he held his breath for what Edward felt to be an abnormally long time and then released the smoke gently. It curled about him like the breath of some ancient beast. He cocked an eyebrow in his cousin's direction "Would you like one?"

Edward shook his head "They make me dizzy. All I would need to put the cap on today would be to put a tear in the baize."

"Blowing a cloud might make you relax a little."

Edward shrugged and held his hand out for a cheroot, lit, inhaled and waited for the dizziness to hit him. "I'll have to concede the game. I may as well try to play foxed."

"Foxed sounds fine to me. I'll get the decanter. Port or brandy?"

Edward nodded towards a small table on which lay two crystal decanters and a few glasses. "Berty has been before you cousin. I'll take a brandy I believe." The smoke finally hit him as his scalp tightened and a pleasant buzz thrummed between his eyes. "I'll take a seat too. Damnation, what are these cheroots made from?"

"Tobacco I believe. Here get this down you. You look as if you need it," Emmett pushed a large brandy into Edward's hands. "I know you can hold your drink at least even if one cheroot is enough to overset you." He sank down onto the chaise beside the other man.

"So I say again and I realise I am rushing in where angels fear to tread but what exactly is so awful about marriage?"

"I simply do not wish to marry."

"Yes, that much is clear," Emmett said with heavy patience. "What is not clear is why. You may look as high as you please for a bride or as low for that matter. There is not much that Carlisle's fortune and lineage cannot cover over. Hell, look at Laurent! As things stand now the future countess is little more than an ex courtesan. And if you somehow do not settle on a bride there is no doubt that Society will be forced to recognise her. Oh but here's a problem! What if you marry but there is no child? Or the child is a female, what then?"

Edward lifted his eyes to his cousin's concerned gaze. "Oh my father has thought of that. He has suggested that I marry a widow of proven fertility."

"Good God" Emmett said blankly.

"And if I happen to be so unfortunate as to have a daughter Carlisle has made it clear that he is not beyond putting a motion through the Lords to allow a female, or at least the man she eventually marries, to inherit the earldom. He said, and I quote 'The law must not be broken Edward but it can be remade'. Frankly I put nothing past him."

"He is an implacable old buzzard at times is he not?"

"He is at times yes, but he has been amazingly understanding so far. Few fathers would have tolerated an only son's vow to remain unmarried," Edward laughed with surprising bitterness. "I found out today that he believed me to be cut from the same cloth as Great Uncle Felix."

"You are not serious!"

"I assure you I am deadly serious. He treated me with the greatest kindness however. I was almost reluctant to admit that I would not be setting up a separate establishment with another 'confirmed bachelor' but since I have convinced him that my reluctance to wed was nothing to do with any … Athenian inclinations he is even more resolute that I undertake my hunt for a bride without delay. I leave for London at the end of March."

"The Season," Emmett enunciated the words with the dread customarily reserved for dentists and undertakers.

"It is not so bad. Of course I usually go for the racing," Edward said carefully. "Perhaps you could come with me this time?"

Emmett laughed, his amusement tinged slightly with horror. "Good God man. I top you by three inches and have more than forty pounds on you. Add on the heel of one of Hoby's boots and I am pushing six foot eight. Can you honestly imagine me in the polite drawing rooms of the ton? Or standing up at Almacks with a little Miss that barely reaches my elbow?"

"Have faith cousin, perhaps there is a female out there that measures up to you?" Edward smiled.

Emmett grinned back tigerishly. "The last time I went to Town I had urchins chasing after me in the streets looking for the Freak show. Thank you cousin, the wilds of the North country are a far better and safer place for one such as myself."

Edward looked at Emmett with fondness. "Carlisle would have been happy to see you as the heir you know. God damn Laurent to hell. Why could he not be a decent man?"

"There is always murder," Emmett suggested lightly. "Let's pop him off."

"God in Heaven Emmett, do not tempt me," Edward swore fervently.

Emmett had no answer to this; instead he picked up the decanter and refilled both their glasses.

"To your bride cousin."

Edward did not reply, but sunk the brandy like it was water.

The fire had burned low, the candles dimmed and it was the small hours of the morning when, foxed beyond belief, slurring and weaving, the two men helped each other up the huge marble staircase to their valets and their beds. Emmett draped Edward's arm over his massive shoulder and half carried him up the first flight.

"You are a good man Emmett. You are a damnable shot and a giant to boot but you are a good man."

"And you Edward are a big arse. You can't hold your brandy. You punch like a girl and sing like one too."

The pair sat down abruptly on the wide first landing and giggled like children, hushing each other and smothering their hoots of laughter in their sleeves.

Edward, gasping for breath leaned back on his elbows on the stairs and looked at the impressive painting on the opposite wall. It was very dark and they carried no candle. Drunk he might be but never recklessly irresponsible with a flame. Only moonlight shone on the canvas before him but he knew the painting well. Emmett followed his rapt gaze. Depicted in vibrant oil was a scantily clad young lady either embracing or repulsing a large white bird, it was hard to tell and Edward had always supposed that to be the point. He had passed that painting multiple times every day and it never failed to capture his attention. Now he could not look away.

"What is going on there?" Emmett hissed

"It is difficult to say." Edward whispered. "It is Leda and the Swan you know."

Emmett nodded in bleary recognition. "The Greeks were a damned peculiar lot sometimes. Oedipus, Antigone, Lucretia and that Zeus fellow needed to be locked up. All funny in the head if you ask me."

"Lucretia was Italian."

Emmett shrugged; it was all one to him at the moment.

"Swans," Edward moaned and let his head fall into his hands.

"Eh?"

Edward lifted his face and his eyes swam with misery. "You have been asking me all evening and now I am telling you. Swans are why I never married," he stated with the bewildering logic and careful enunciation of the truly inebriated.

"I missed her debut ball. I was invited you know, but I came down with a quinsy. Trust me to get sick at the height of the Season. By the time I was well again weeks and weeks had passed. The first time I saw her was at her betrothal party. She never once looked away from her fiance and I…I could not look away from her."

"My dear fellow." Emmett clenched his hand on Edward's shoulder.

"I followed her for weeks. I went to the same parties, rode in the Park at the usual times hoping for a glimpse of her. But I remained in the background. I was never even introduced. I could not bear the idea of making a fool of myself before her. She was so beautiful, like a star, distant but bright… and the way she dealt with people, so gentle. But she was truly happy with him and what could I do? I tortured myself until the day of her wedding and returned here the next day," Edward paused for a moment. "Nothing was the same for me since. My sight has been dim for twenty years and now thanks to that waste of skin Laurent, I have to give up even my memory of her," and from his lips was torn a deep sob.

"Oh Edward," Emmett's voice was filled with compassion. He waited for some time before asking: "Did you ever see her again?"

"I stayed away the following year. I desperately wanted to be near her again but yearning for a married woman - what kind of hope is that for a man? The year after that…" Edward laughed shortly. "…All trace of her had vanished. Her parents had died and she had retired to the country. Dashed peculiar I would have looked making close enquiries to her whereabouts eh? I have heard nothing since. She could be up to her eyebrows in brats for all I know, fat and dowdy with a double chin." Edward's tone was bitter. "All because I missed one damned ball. Fate is cruel Emmett."

Emmett nodded, for there was nothing else he could do and hoisted Edward to is feet once more. "Perhaps things will look better in the morning."

"Not likely. After the amount we have put away tonight. I will be lucky if I am able to see anything at all let alone spy a silver lining in the cloud."

"That's the spirit my boy." Emmett stated as he helped his cousin up the stairs. "Optimism was ever your strength."

He handed Edward over to his valet's tender hands, Embry nodded in mute understanding. After hissing a goodnight to his cousin Emmett wove his way to his own rooms. His life might not be perfect, but he was glad he was not Carlisle's heir.

Note

A quinsy was a form of tonsilitis. Of course, without antibiotics this was a very nasty illness and could keep a person unwell for a few weeks.

I thank kaypgirl, who asked a most interesting question in her review and so prompted the rest of this story. If you have any questions or spot an error please let me know. This is un beta-ed so all mistakes are mine.

I also wrote a o/s for the Enchantments contest. It did not place but I liked it. Perhaps you might like it too. Toodlepip!