Thanks again for all the reviews and follows! Just a quick note; I'm not sure what the "expectations" would have been for the son of nobility at a university, so I simply decided to try and write what I thought they would be like for *anyone* who goes to college-the expectation that you do well. Anyway, hope you enjoy. More to follow soon!

Envious
December 1908

Christmas at last, which means a break from the hard-nosed professors and instructors he has been forced to endure ever since he began at Cambridge.

Nothing has prepared him for this.

Everything was so easy in the past; governesses, tutors, the school his father sent him to, all of those things were simpler, his studies didn't matter! One look, one word, one threat from him was enough to make all of them leave him alone and let him be, sending positive letters to his father about what a wonderful student he was.

But University is nothing like that.

Here he is one of many; the name "Grey" or "Merton" has very little sway, certainly when compared to other men who come from wealthier families or who are set to inherit dukedoms. Men who, like him, come from privilege, so they are not so impressed by his background as they come from one just like it.

Or above it.

But it's the professors who are the worst. Apparently is work is not "good enough", and his father has already written to him once about his "concern" for his "lack of enthusiasm" when it comes to his studies.

It doesn't help that Patrick excels in his work. But Patrick has always excelled, and this is made even more evident as he sits at the table and listens to his father read a letter out loud from Patrick's father, talking about all the accomplishments he has completed so far, how he has even managed to win a prime spot on the rowing team! And even though his father never says it…Larry can't help but hear his father screaming underneath all those words, "why can't you be more like Patrick Crawley? Why can't HE be my son?"

His father then proceeds to tell him about a letter he's received from Lord Grantham, about his daughters, how each and every one of them are excelling in their studies. Of course, being girls and being younger, their studies are nowhere near as taxing or important as his own, which just rubs salt further into the wound on his ego, because he knows, once again, that his father is basically saying that he can't even measure up to a silly simple-minded teenage girl.

"Sybil can't stand her governess," his sister pipes up from her side of the table.

"What?" his father is momentarily distracted by Mariah's sudden interruption.

"Sybil says all her governess is good for is teaching one how to curtsey or speak bad French."

"Oh my," his mother murmurs, before coughing into her napkin.

"Sybil wishes her governess were more like Jane Eyre; she was clever, or so Sybil's told me. I've never read the book," Mariah concludes before focusing once again on her dinner.

Larry snorts and rolls his eyes. "Well Sybil doesn't go to Cambridge, does she?"

"She wishes she could," Mariah decides to add. "She told me she envies you, Larry."

"It's Patrick she should envy," his father mutters.

It's a miserable Christmas.