My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 33

Henry bounced baby Alfie in his arms as he stalked down the corridor towards his bedroom, though rather than going into his own he went to the next door over. He knocked on the old oaken door, only creaking it open as he heard Callum tell him to 'come in'.

"Thought I'd come up to tell you..." Henry announced as he opened the door, trailing off as he saw his cousin brushing off the shoulders of his formal dinner jacket whilst standing before the looking glass. "Not to change..." Henry cracked a smile, stifling a chuckle as he recognised himself only a few months before; wearing a dinner jacket to his first dinner with Thomas and the boys.

"Don't laugh! I'm new to dressing myself." Callum rolled his eyes impertinently, glaring at his little cousin through the reflection as he carried on adjusting his cuffs. "Just because you've decided to forgo your world live to live a life of poverty doesn't mean you get to hold it over us worldly folk.

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at myself, not too long ago." Henry shifted Alfie from his right hip to his left, adjusting his grip on the little baby to make him more comfortable as he reached his chubby little baby hands towards Callum. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that you needn't change, dinner is a casual affair with us. I've put the steak and kidney pie, so dinner will be soon."

"You?! You, cooked something!? I mean tea is one thing, but food?! That's a potential health hazard, that." Callum grimaced at the thought as Henry shot him a playful glare. "Honestly, Harry the more time I spend here to more I feel like I've gone through the bloody looking glass! Who are you?! I don't even recognise you anymore!"

"Don't be daft." Henry rolled his eyes with a soft smile. "I'm the same person you know and love. The same person you played with as a child, hiding from our governesses, exploring about the the house with, playing beastly pranks on the servants. I'm the same person, Cal, I've just adjusted to my new surroundings, that's all."

"I'm not being daft, Harry I'm concerned." Callum stalked up to his little cousin, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder as he let out a conflicted sigh. "I just hope you know what you're doing. This isn't your life, Harry. This isn't who you are. One day after the criminal cases blow over and it's safe for you to come home, you'll have to leave all this. You don't belong here, we don't belong here. Don't change yourself for something that's temporary."

"What if it is who I am, Cal?" Henry's glanced up to look his cousin in the eyes. "What if the Harry you knew growing up was simply who he was told he should be, and not who he truly was on the inside."

"For God's sake, Harry. Be practical!" Callum threw his hands up in disbelief. "You're the son of a Duke, great-grandson of a Queen, nephew and cousin to countless royals throughout Europe, And you're sat here in the middle of bloody nowhere toiling away in grinding poverty having to cook, clean, and dress for yourself."

"This isn't grinding poverty, Cal. I think it's just normal poverty, or something like that." Henry blinked confusedly at his cousin. "The fact of the matter is, I'm happy, Cal. Truly and genuinely happy! And I'd absolutely love it if my dearest Cousin would at least try to be happy for me."

"I'm always happy for you, Harry. But I also know what's best for you too." Countered an adamant Callum.

"I know what's best for me too." Henry replied with conviction. "Just please try and get to know Thomas and the boys, it'd mean the world to me. Try to see things from my perspective. At the very least you owe your little cousin that much, what say you?"

"Alright, fine. Just be careful, for God's sake. You two are about as subtle as a brick through a window." Callum huffed defeatedly, clearly at wit's end with his headstrong younger cousin; he wasn't terribly shocked by it all either, Henry had always had a mind and soul of his own; a free spirit, if you will. He never cared much for the status quo that was the English aristocracy and it's inner workings. He rather preferred to write his own destiny and clearly this was the fruit of that. But even for Henry this was extreme; Callum couldn't get over the idea of him cooking food suitable for human consumption.