Gregory bounced his leg up and down, hoping that neither of the other men in the office heard it. He did all he could to appear calm and focused on his paperwork yet he found himself constantly looking at the clock, watching as the seconds slipped away. It seemed like it was taking forever for the hands to move. At one point he'd looked up and gaped because he had been sure it was a quarter past the hour and yet the clock had read that it was only five minutes.
He was losing his mind.
Herbert lifted up a mug of coffee (for he was a barbarian who drunk the sludge that the secretaries made in the kitchen) and took a look slurp from it, the sound making Gregory tense. The fool then smacked his lips together before slamming the cup down, the sound like a thunderclap in Gregory's ears.
God did he hate being in this office.
'I deserve far better than this,' he thought bitterly, not for the first time. 'Mine is the blood of lords. Noble blood. Powerful blood. The blood of empire makers!' He thought of all those that had come before him, of his father Theodore Dunning, the Earl of Southsire; his grandfather Michael; all the men of Southsire that had come before him. They had been mighty lords and their accomplishments meant that Gregory was owed far more than the world was giving him. The jealous and the insecure had sought to drag him down, to pull him down into the mud with them and despite all his work to ensure that they would not… he now found himself here, in the pale white office that didn't even have a window, sitting in a rolling chair that squeaked every time he shifted, shuffling paperwork when he should have been in command of the army!
And worst than that were the ones he was forced to work with. An estate manager who only had his position because his cousin had felt sorry for him. A tall long faced fool who had no ambition and was happy to remain in his sad little life. Normally Gregory would have been happy with that, for it was so rare for one to meet a man that actually knew their place, but because Herbert worked with Gregory and was seen as so many as his equal despite the fact he was anything but that aimlessness tainted Gregory. People thought that he was like the tall buffoon when he was anything but.
'I don't even need ambition… I know what I deserve!' Greg thought as he glanced at the clock before turning his attention once more to the tedious paperwork he had spread out on his desk. But just as he began to read over the contract his mind began to wander again to the crimes that had been perpetrated against him. 'I only demand what I deserve! Such is not a crime! It is divine right!'
The up jumped servant chose that moment to stretch before glancing at Greg.
"Finished?" he asked and Greg hated the way the man allowed his voice to take on a snide tone. In a true and honest world Greg would be able to have his tongue for speaking to him like that. He was his better! But they didn't live in a just world; if they did Greg would be in charge of the office and the likes of Thomas Barrow would be down mucking the stables and shoeing the horse that Gregory didn't own but should.
He didn't say a word.
The disgusting little servant. He'd managed to trick his way into his position and no one could see that he was a failure. They entertained his delusions of success and skill, much as a parent might clap for a child that managed to not spit up all over themselves. It drove Gregory mad how everyone around Barrow applauded his weak and floundering acts as being some grand deeds. He would do the bare minimum, things that a trained dog could do, and be seen as a powerful and needed piece of the war effort. All the while Gregory's ideas and actions were dismissed and shoved aside.
'Because of jealousy,' he thought to himself. He had gone to meetings to prove that he knew far more than those that were in command only to be shoved aside, told to shut his mouth and leave. He made suggests that were never listened to or implemented. 'Is it any wonder the War continues on when I am not there to guide England to victory?'
He just needed his chance. Just needed a moment to prove himself. To find someone who was sane in this mad world and get them to see his worth. Then everything would change. He would prove his character, rise up to where he belonged, and earn the power and stranding he deserved. A knighthood. Lordhood. A place in Parliament or at the side of the King.
There was no one that understood him. No one willing to give him a chance. It was just him…
'Well, that isn't true,' he thought to himself as he looked at the clock once more and saw that finally there were only moments away from when he needed to leave. 'There is Millie.'
He smiled.
She was his angel. His rock. His sole ally. His brilliant gal that saw his strength and was willing to help him. He'd met her shortly before he'd arrived at the War Office, bumping into her by pure accident… no, not accident. It was fate. He knew it was fate. God had seen to it to put Millie in his life. She didn't falsely judge him. It didn't matter to her what others said about him, the lies they spread. She accepted him fully. And more than that she wanted to help him.
'When she heard the whispers about me and Theodore she didn't let it influence her. She came to me and said that it was fine, that she understood.' He shook his head slightly; people could twist things into such a larger mess than they truly were.
He still remembered that day well, just as the War had begun. His brother Theodore had wanted to enlist, like the sons of many great lords. This would be the chance for them to earn their honor and glory, just as their fathers had during the Boer War and the conflicts that had come before and after. A chance to save Europe and put their German cousins in their place and remind all that it was to England that all should turn towards for guidance. It was a noble thing, to want to enlist. A great and proper thing. And yet… it was also the absolutely wrong thing.
'Theodore had his glory already,' Gregory thought to himself (even in his mind he would not refer to his brother but his vulgar nickname of Teddy; his brother was to be an English lord not some American cowboy!). 'Reddington Hall will be his. He will be the Earl of Southsire. It was a foolish idea to choose to risk all that!'
He'd said as much to his brother. Told him that he couldn't enlist. That it was better that he stay home. Allow Gregory to enlist. Theodore had laughed at that. "There is plenty of fame for both of us, brother!" he had claimed but Gregory knew that as a lie. His brother would want to take it all for himself and leave none for Gregory. He pleaded with his brother to stop. That it didn't matter if people thought him a coward… sometimes it was better to take such insults so others might be given a chance. His brother hadn't liked that, said some rather… vulgar… words to him, and in turn Gregory had kept his calm. He'd suggested to his brother other ways then to avoid fighting. It wasn't unheard of for one to be injured and thus unable to assist one's country in war. Accidents happened all the time.
It was his brother's own fault for thinking that a threat! He was far too emotional!
'Nothing would have come for it if the groom had done his damn job!' Gregory thought to himself, sorting through the papers on his desk. 'Had he hammered on that shoe properly the horse would have never lost his shoe.'
Theodore had gone riding after their fight, choosing his favorite mount, only for the beast to take a tumble due to losing its shoe and cracking its hoof. Theodore had been thrown and broke his shoulder. It was nothing. A minor injury really. Yes, he could never use his left arm properly again but it wasn't his dominate arm anyway! But everyone assumed that Gregory had been involved and despite all he had said no one believed him.
Millie and him had discussed the indignity of it all. How the servants whispered that Gregory had wanted to kill his brother and try and usurp his position as heir. Madness! Simply madness. Of course Gregory knew he would make a far better Lord of Southsire than his brother ever would but he would never-
It didn't matter. Millie had heard about it and had helped him to hush it all up. He'd questioned several people, very subtly and quietly, and confirmed that none of them knew the story. His darling Millie… so smart and kind. She knew so many people and had been able to help him, to ensure that the gossip and lies wouldn't affect his career.
And now she was going to help him again.
He rose with utter crispness, not saying a word to either man as he walked out of the office. There was no need for bland and meaningless small talk. Nor did Gregory need to inform them where he was going. Herbert was nothing and Thomas wouldn't be his boss for long. In fact it was very likely when he returned to the office it would be to gather his things so he might move to room that better suited his station.
Moving down the hall he passed by secretaries and other workers, ignoring their polite nods and quick glances. Instead he made for the stairwell, stepping inside and walking down two flights until he reached the ground floor. From there it was rather easy to make his way to another set of stairs, these ones leading to the basement where the file rooms sat, and head into one that had become his and Millie's personal secret spot. A secret spot that only they knew of, where he might speak to her his concerns and she might assure in that all things would be turn out better soon.
"Millie," he said in relief, hurrying over to her, shutting the door behind him and giving the lock a twist. She stood there in a muted green dress, a bonnet on her head, looking so innocent and kind and he felt his heart pulse that he had a woman like this in his corner. He took her hands in his and squeezed, feeling the warmth of her skin against his own. It was a wonderful relief to know that she was there. No matter how horrible is day was, no matter the crimes and sins that were sent his way, his darling Millie-
"Did you bring them?" she asked.
"Always to the point," he teased, producing the papers from his jacket. "Just as you asked."
"Perfect." She quickly grabbed the papers and began to look through them. "All here… that's very good Greg."
"And you will get these to the General?" he asked, ignoring her use of his more familiar name; for her he allowed such lapse in edict.
"Oh yes," she assured him, pulling her hands free of his and leafing through the papers. It had taken a lot for him to grab those, needing to be careful so that fool Barrow wouldn't realize what he was doing, but now that he had given them to Millie he knew everything was going to get better. "Once he sees what the War Office has been hiding from him he will be ever so grateful. The people here… their muddling has only made the war worse but now with these papers-"
The door burst open and Gregory whipped around, moving to tell off whoever had intruded only for his words to become stuck in his throat as the military police rushed in. They were half a foot taller than him, built like dock workers, with flat angry faces and hands like stone clubs. Still, he wasn't frightened of them. He was Lord Southsire's son and these men would be fools to lay a hand on him.
"What is the meaning-" he began to say only for one to grab him and force him against a cabinet, slamming his face against the unyielding metal. "I say!" he cried, trying to twist free. These idiots! How dare they lay hands on him! Millie cried out and he bucked, able to turn enough to see another MP grabbing hold of her, twisting her arm behind her back and forcing her against a wall. "Leave her be! She has done nothing wrong!"
"That is where you are wrong, Corporal Dunning," a lanky man said as he entered the room, followed by General Lothrop and-
"Barrow!" Gregory roared. "You dare! I'll have your head for this! You sic these mad dogs on my lady love? You will-"
The lanky man scoffed and waved his hand and the MP holding Gregory slammed him hard in the cabinet. "Do try and shut up, Mr. Dunning. Your voice is so utterly grating." He smirked and walked over to Millie, taking the papers from her hand. "Well, just as you thought Thomas… he did take the papers."
Barrow shook his head in disgust. "I knew he was up to something the moment he volunteered to do the filing for us."
Gregory felt a momentary flush of fear but he carefully forced it down and focused on Barrow. "Come to have your goons try and hide the truth, is that it? Want to keep the world from knowing how you've mucked up the war effort? When they learn how you've failed to organize the supply routes properly you'll be cast out of here!" He smirked though the MP gave him another shove, forcing him to grunt in pain. "You'll… you'll be lucky if they don't declare you a traitor! You've aided the Germans more than most of their soldiers."
"Funny you should bring that up," Barrow said with a scoff only for the General to step forward.
"You stole paperwork from my office," Lothrop rumbled.
"To prove how Barrow has gotten men killed! The supply lines… he's purposely routed them farther than they should! Made delays that have cost us British lives!"
"And how would you do it?" the General asked, leaning forward.
Gregory happily began to tell the General his own ideas, thinking that perhaps he wouldn't even need Millie and her contacts for this. Oh, his darling love was so clever and helpful but General Lothrop… when he saw just what Gregory had come up with he'd understand the genius that had been stifled by that arrogant and jealous Barrow! He'd be respectful to the MPs, not demand their jobs, as they had been misled like everyone else-
"That's wonderful, Dunning," Gen. Lothrop said, cutting off Gregory as he detailed how to move the trucks through France. "Tell me though… these roads you suggest we use… how do we get to them?"
"Pardon?"
"The roads. They do lead to our lines, yes. But… they are not near a single port that we control."
"We'd… just build new ones."
"Build new ones," General Lothrop said with a cold laugh. "Build new ones." He trembled and then suddenly he was right next to Gregory, spittle flying from his lips as he roared, "BUILDING NEW ONES!?"
"Y-yes," Gregory stammered, not seeing the problem.
"It would take 6 months for us to do so… and even then it would save us only 12 hours."
"No… it would save us 6 days."
"12… hours." Then General Lothrop began to go over the math and Gregory felt his heart drop as he realized the mistakes he'd made in his math. Not carrying the 1, adding rather than subtracting… "And even then it would waste resources. Resources we are trying to get to the BLOODY FRONT!"
Barrow walked over and laid a hand on the General's shoulder, forcing him to pull back from Gregory. "He isn't worth it," the up-jumped footman whispered.
"So what was your plan, Dunning?" the lanky man asked.
"And you are?" Gregory said, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Jonsey," the lanky man said. "I'm with SIS. Though I am trying to get them to come up with a new name." He gave a lazy shrug. "Now then… what was your plan?"
"To get those papers… which I am sure still prove me right-" he knew he was right… even if the General's math had proven him wrong he knew that his plan could work he just… needed more time… "-into the hands of some commanders that will be sympathetic to my cause."
"Thanks to Millie here, correct?" Jonsey asked before looking at Gregory's darling girl. "Plotting with your husband?"
"We aren't married," Gregory informed him.
"I know," Jonsey said, "I wasn't referring to you." He turned and stared down Millie who met his gaze with just as much heat. "I was referring to Abraham Finch."
"Who the devil is that?" Gregory asked.
"Her husband you git," Barrow snapped.
"…no. No, she's not… no!" Gregory shook his head… or tried too; the MP was still keeping a solid grip on him. "She is not married!"
"Yes she is," Jonsey said. "Millie Finch, though you are going by your maiden name, aren't you my dear? I wonder why that is?"
"There are women who go by their maiden names," Millie responded. "It is radical, I suppose, but I rather like Travers."
"Millie?" Gregory said, stunned. "You're… you're married?"
"It's complicated," Millie assured him.
"It really isn't," Jonsey stated. He folded his hands behind his back and began to pace, causing the General to roll his eyes and mutter something about Sherlock Holmes to Barrow. "Abraham Finch. Son of an English dockworker and a German immigrant." Gregory grimaced and stared at Millie. She was married to a half German… whose father handed crates?! How? How could she stand to be near such a person?! "Top of his class in school, sent to college thanks to the aid of his German grandmother, who never liked the fact that her daughter had been exiled from Germany for her… loose morals. Studies focused on law and politics. Rather devoted to Germany rather than England, despite the fact that he has never stepped foot in the lands he claims to be his true homeland. Met you when you were 15, courted and wed when you were 17.
"When the War started your husband did all he could to avoid enlisting and later the draft. When his name did come up he chose to flee instead. You were interviewed and claimed you had no knowledge of his whereabouts… only that was a lie, wasn't it Millie?" Jonsey turned to look at Gregory's dear love and she shot him such a foul and hate-filled look that it took Gregory's breath away. She should never have worn such features upon her face. It was wrong. Like painting the London Bridge pink! "He hid amongst the London Underground where he became part of a radical group who believes in the Kaiser's plans and dreamed of a united Europe with Germany as its master. He attacked enlisting offices, set fire to warehouses that stored army supplies, and printed up pamphlets urging the English people to submit to German rule."
"A pretty story," Millie said.
"And one I haven't finished so please," he reached out and patted her cheek in a condescending manner, "allow me to finish?" He smirked and pulled away. "Now, when it became clear that Abraham wasn't moving up the ranks as he had desired he came to you for help. You agreed because he filled that pretty little head of yours with thoughts of him becoming an important member of this new Germanic-English Empire with you at his side. So you began to seek out men you could seduce and trick into helping your cause, either through blackmail or favors. You happened upon Dunning here and fed his rather deluded notions of grandeur-"
"I never!" Gregory snapped.
"-to get him to assist you. He turned over papers about supply lines that Abraham planned to hand over to a German spy."
"Gregory gave me the papers, yes. But you do not know what I planned to do with them. They could have been stuffing for a hat, to make the brim stiffer, for all you know." She held her nose up in the air. "You can not arrest a woman for a crime you believe to happen that hasn't."
"His contact's name was Fritz."
Millie went pale at that.
"A friendly chap though Abraham mocked him for being unable to hide his German accent even when he attempted to do a British one." Jonsey cleared his throat. "Ist das nicht richtig Frau Finch?"
"No…" Millie whispered, eyes wide in horror as Jonsey spoke in an English Accent that was tinted with German.
"Do you like it?" Jonsey asked, adopting his normal voice once more. "I worked very hard on it. It is tricky to make it sound like I'm hiding the german when I want it to leak out." He leaned in close. "It wasn't hard to find your husband once I locked onto you. Thinking yourself so clever, never noticing I was following. You led me right to him."
"No," she repeated again in terror.
"He's already been arrested. He'll see a noose for this and… well, I don't know what will happen to you but the punishment for spies is not kind." He leaned away and scoffed. "Get her locked away. No one talks to her but me. I'll transfer her myself." Millie was half dragged out of the room, not even looking once at Gregory. "As for you…"
"You… I merely…" Gregory stammered.
"You betrayed your country. Deluded by a woman. But… unfortunately for me… you weren't an active spy." He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean you won't be punished."
"P-punished?" Gregory whispered.
"Oh yes. And I imagine as we dig into your past we will find more crimes to plop upon your head."
Gregory, for the first time in his life, went silent as he was dragged away.
~MC~MC~MC~
"I always knew there was something wrong with him," Thomas said, sinking down in Allen's armchair. He had decided to pay a visit to the General, as Jonsey was busy dealing with the mess that was Greg and his indirect treason. The rest of the house was out as well, as apparently Mary was meeting with Lord Grantham of all people (and that had made Thomas' jaw drop when he'd been informed of THAT) while Catherine was meeting with someone in the theater district; apparently she'd written a play and was looking for a director. It was a farce about a nobleman's daughter who decided to con her neighbors into giving her money to invest into lands in America only for issues to constantly arise. Sounded odd to Thomas but he'd never been one for theater.
"We all did but we never imagined it was this bad," Allen said with a shake of his head. "Luckily you were able to catch it in time."
"Yes, thanks to Jonsey."
Allen nodded. "He's a good lad. Very smart."
"He is," Thomas said with a slight smile. His… his love was such a cunning fellow. Thomas hadn't been angry when Jonsey had revealed that he worked for SIS, that he was a spy working within London to root out German sympathizers. He'd only wanted to know if their meeting had been part of an investigation and when Jonsey had assured him that it wasn't, that he hadn't ever considered looking into his office, Thomas had happily told the other man that he didn't blame him for keeping the secret. After all, Thomas lied about himself all the time. He had to, for his safety.
Watching Jonsey that afternoon reveal how he had been three steps ahead of Millie Travers, aka Millie Finch, had been like watching an artist paint. It had been awe inspiring and Thomas had tried his hardest to memorize every moment. It had been brilliant and beautiful and-
"I'd say he takes after me but honestly he gets it from Catherine."
Thomas' thoughts screeched to a sudden stop.
Allen glanced at Thomas, raising his water glass to his lips. "My boy… he is a cunning one."
"Your… your…" Thomas stammered. "Jonsey is-"
"My son?" Allen asked. "Yes."
The world threatened to open up and swallow Thomas whole.
If the General noticed Thomas' distress he didn't say a word. "Fredrick Jones Lothrop. Jones is Catherine's maiden name. Fredrick is far too stuffy though for him, we realized that very quickly, and thus Jonsey."
He was falling, plummeting, tumbling into the darkness.
"You would have realized when he showed you the ownership papers," Allen stated with utter calmness, as if Thomas had taken all other emotions and left only bland conversation for the older man. Yet even as Thomas fought the panic and fear that was bubbling up within him the General's words pierced through it all and gave him pause.
"Ownership…" he murmured.
Allen nodded. "For your new house. A small thing, not as grand as this place but I doubt you or my son would be interested in something as large and useless as this place. Unless, of course, you become like me and take to adopting strays and the needful."
"I… I don't…"
"Have I ever told you about how my eldest Franklin told me he was going to marry?" Allen asked, startling Thomas once more with the sudden change in topic. He struggled to grasp onto the logic or train of thought but Allen began speaking again and Thomas was left adrift once more. "He came to me one day to tell me about Audrey. They had been seeing much of each other, you must understand. Though we all knew that I would become a lord and Franklin one after me I didn't bother with the courtships that most of high society consider proper. Catherine didn't arrange for him to meet girls like they were show horses being paraded out to potential buyers. I didn't sit with a man and decided and my son would marry his daughter in exchange for this sack of gold or a painting he had. Nothing like that. I let Franklin live his own life and make choices on his own.
"He and Audrey had grown to know each other through mutual friends. They did everything proper once they realized they wished to be serious about one another but they handled things on their own. Franklin had socially seen several other young women before Audrey and they fell out for any number of reasons. The old songs, you know? They both agreed that they were better off with others. A feud that couldn't be moved past, that sort of thing. I was used to it with Franklin and I put no pressure on him to marry quickly just to produce an heir. Unheard of, I know, but I swore just because my cousins had forced me to step in and take on the title and the Lordship I wouldn't forget who I had once been. Cat and I married because I wanted us to marry and she wanted it as well. That happiness taught me it was far better to let people discover love on their own without the help… if you can call it that… of others.
"You might thing it strange but Franklin hadn't come to me to tell me he was going to ask for Audrey's hand in marriage. It didn't even occur to him for another 6 months that he was going to wed that brilliant woman. He just wanted to share his day with me, to discuss what he had gone through and how it had made him so happy. But the thing was, Thomas… I saw it in an instant. I saw the love in his eyes for Audrey. How he praised her. How he cared for her. When I forced him to discuss things that didn't concern her he began to…wilt. She was his sun, giving him light. In that moment I knew she would be my daughter-in-law. I knew he would marry her."
Allen reached out and placed his hand on Thomas' knee.
"Two weeks ago Jonsey came to me to discuss Millie. Your name, naturally, came up. Again… and again… and again. And I saw in his eyes the same love for you that Franklin has for Audrey. How…" Allen swallowed and Thomas was startled to see tears in the old man's eyes, "…how could I… ever call myself a father… if I didn't accept my son. And the person… the man… that he loved?"
Thomas began to tremble.
"I will never claim to understand homosexuality, Thomas. But I will never claim to understand men that go into the deserts of America and find dinosaur bones. Or those brave fools who get into tubes with wings and fly across enemy lines. It isn't for me to understand such things… just to accept them. I accept that there are people different from me… and I don't begrudge them that. Just as I would never begrudge Jonsey… a chance at love."
"Sir…" Thomas whispered.
"So," Allen said with a soft smile, "I have purchases a house for Jonsey. And you will own it as well. It isn't unheard of for two bachaelors to live together. Quite common, actually. It honestly makes me wonder just how many people have been forced to hide who they truly are because a narrow minded minority can't accept them?" He shook his ehad. "And shame on me for not considering such things until it was my own son… and a young man I have grown to respect and care for." He gave Thomas' knee a squeeze. "Maybe one day we will be able to announce it proudly to the world. But until that day… even if it must be kept secret… you will be family to me, Thomas. No different than Audrey."
With trembling hands Thomas reached out and took the General's hand in his own, holding it tightly. His lifeline in the swirling madness of the conversation.
"There… there are few people in the world… that have allowed me to feel safe." Thomas licked his lips. "You have saved me General. You have saved me."
"And I am happy to do so, son. I am happy to do so."
