Chapter 4

Sunlight filled the sky, pure scattered light; its hue ambitiously illuminating each crevice of the land. Sparrows chirped an explicit background melody. With breath paused in his lungs, he wished time would halt. The trees shone as if they were wearing golden crowns and the vast sea was not able to absorb the bright sparks of the sun. The tides on the sea were racing among each other to reach the horizon from where the mighty godlike sun appeared. And though time continued, the emotions that flowed stilled my soul.

The curtains add an orange glow to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. It reminds the young man of the times he slept in a beach hut, watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer. For a moment his mind conjures the rhythmic waves, soft on the sandy shore and feels his heart beat to the same slow pace. He breaths in deeply. A new day has begun. He reaches his hand out to the fabric, noticing how up close the light pours through every open space between fibres, no different from how it once came through the beach-hut walls, illuminating like brilliant fire-flies each dawn. The material is warm beneath his fingers, and when the sun floods the room, painting the colours anew, he feels a little of those golden rays soak into his skin.

But he knew that he would not delay any longer and got up from his bed and soon dressed himself in the tight clothes that he wore for running. He knew that he was a good looking man and he could draw the attention of men and women alike. That kind of charm always came in handy when you always were caught up in a sticky position.

Jogging was the only time of the day when he felt like himself. In this small moor and village there was no other sort of entertainment as well for him since he was a pariah being a Billington. Even though he resented that, the position that he held just by birth came with certain benefits and he liked enjoying them thoroughly.

A good looking man in his early twenties entered the dining room of the mansion. Wearing a neat grey-suit, his features were striking and his eyes were almond shaped which gave him an air of authority. In fact when he had been born and was a healthy six months old everyone had commented that the child had been so beautiful that it could not possibly be the Lord’s son. When he grew up he resembled his mother more rather than his father and the Lord Billington was frankly relieved that he did not look like himself.

When it came to keeping your Earldom and power then it was always a good thing to have good looks on your side. Since Lord Billington had never had that he had to rely on brute force and that was and had been more than enough to keep everything under control.

“Good morning son,” greeted the Earl and Lancelot Edward Billington gave him a charming smile.

“A very good morning father. Indeed it is a bright day. How are you feeling today? Mrs. Berry was telling yesterday at supper that your arthritis has gotten worse and you were going to take your supper in the room itself?” asked Lancelot and the older man who more or less resembled a pig in the way he looked which accounted for the nick name of the Boar, nodded lightly.

“I will be better as soon as this damned oil deal is out of my way and I will be able to take some rest again. But I cannot believe that you are still caught up on your mother’s death. That women was like a thorn in my life and now that she is gone I can at least lead my life easily,” said the Lord and he did not even glance at Lancelot whose entire demeanour had shifted. He was absolutely seething with rage but he could not show that to his father. Just like he could not show it to him that he did not like woman and would never do so.

“She might be just a woman to you Father, but she was my mother and I can never forget that,” said Lancelot in a calm voice as he took a bite from the piece of the toast he took.

“It has been bloody six years Lancelot. And you very well know that we cannot delay this any further. You are of age and you have to marry in order to gain the earldom,” said the Boar in a loud voice and the veins of his neck were almost on the verge of popping.

“I already told you about that. I am not interested in the title and neither am I interested in the politics or earldom,” said Lancelot again and this time his voice was slightly louder than the previous time but he had this discussion countless times with his father and he was not fazed for a bit.

“I am not bloody well asking for your permission, Boy. I am telling you that this has to be done and it has to be done this year itself,” said Lord Billington and his fists came down on the table with a crash as he thundered.

“Why are you so hell bent upon making the life of a woman worse? Why are not considering the fact that it will cause more scandal than you want?” asked Lancelot as he placed back the knife with which he was applying the butter to the piece of bread on the plate.

“Why would there be a scandal? This will be the marriage of the year and I am going to make no mistake in choosing the right girl for you. The right one will know when to keep her trap shut and will come with the perfect connections,” said the Lord as he spoke in a lower voice this time.

“How can you even think about speaking about a girl like that I do not understand that Father!! You are the father of four daughters and still you speak about them like they are mere tools for reproduction and nothing more,” said Lancelot as he poured himself some cornflakes and got milk from the jug.

“What do you think they are good for? Huh? Tell me…all day they sit around the house and do nothing except fight like a pair of rabid cats and then go shopping spending my money and also do parties…heaven forbid that this country produces more daughters like that. Then everything is going to go for a ruin,” grunted the Boar.

“I cannot believe you father. I really, cannot. You have never seen Elizabeth working? Do you mean to say that? Today she runs her own book publishing company which was in ruins and shambles since you wanted no part with it…she has turned into a money maker and not to mention you get twenty-percent of her profit share even though she has left the house three years ago. You have not seen Penelope in four years and she is a doctor with a very successful practice in Canada. And do I need to remind you about the fact that she studied by earning her own way through college??” asked Lancelot.

He was the youngest brother of all and had been the apple of his father’s eye in childhood. He had loved the attention and the way he used to spoil him but then his mother had put a stop to it and taught him what was right and what was not. His sisters were all extremely capable in their own right but since they had been cursed with being born in this family with the name Billington they were no good in the eyes of their father except probably getting married off in the proper families.

“They knew what they were getting into when they said that they left home. Elizabeth ran away with her dowager money so I get a share in her profits that is only natural and Penelope is dead too me. She jilted her wedding the night before her wedding. What could be more shaming for this family?” asked his father as he narrowed his eyes at his son.

Lord Billington wished that his wife had died sooner, at least then he could have reared his son just like he wanted them to. Not like this.

“And what is your plan then? To never let me live my life the way I want? And to keep me inside a box like you have always done?” asked Lancelot with his voice tightening.

The Boar looked at him and his face was all red as he spoke in a low voice,” Keeping you in a box?”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t understand the meaning of what I am saying Father. I don’t like women, I never have and you are trying the hell lot of everything to get me married to one. None of the two women who came to our house to stay for a week, well none of them had any faults but you did not spare them either,” said Lancelot as the fork clattered from the Boar’s hand.

“Never again repeat that statement ever,” said his father.

“Why? Are you ashamed of the fact that your only son is not interested in women? Is gay?” asked Lancelot as he gritted his teeth.

“NNO SON OF MINE IS A FAGGOT. YOU HEAR ME??? YOU WILL GET MARRIED THIS YEAR AND YOU WILL PRODUCE A CHILD BY NEXT YEAR. THAT IS THE END OF DISCUSSION,” screamed the man as all the glasses and crystal-ware of the table chinked with the intensity of his voice.

“You cannot very well force me to do anything that I don’t want Father. You know that very well,” said Lancelot as he wiped his face with the napkin and then got up from the table.

“Don’t push me boy. Don’t push me…you think that you will say anything that you like and then I am going to believe you? No one in the Billington family has ever suffered from this affliction that you speak of.” said the older man and Lancelot smiled at his father.

“We are standing in the twenty-first century and yet you speak as if you are stuck back two-hundred years earlier. I am neither a faggot and nor do I suffer from any affliction. And I know this very well, Father, that despite your anger you cannot have me institutionalized or get me to be certified as insane just because I am gay. Because I am your only hope for this oil-deal to pass through,” said Lancelot as he started walking away from the room.

Mrs. Burberry, the housekeeper was standing at one corner of the room silent because that was her duty.

“Mrs. Berry, I am going out. Please save me some of the breakfast as I may have brunch later on when I come back,” said Lancelot as he walked away from the dining Hall.

The Boar, even though resented the fact that he could not control the proclivities of his son, could not argue that he was right. And if he had only a month then everything would be done within a month. He was not going to be scanadalised by a mere boy at the fag end of his career. And he was going to see to it that Lancelot did not either.