The Earl's Keeper

Twelve - The Mourning Period

Zeb looked at his new friend after having closed the deal. Rather than seeming pleased, the ageing man appeared apprehensive.

'What troubles you?' He asked.

John glanced around himself warily. 'This place. 'Tis not a place I ever wanted to set foot in again.' He began mumbling incoherently to himself.

Zeb frowned. 'We can leave by nightfall if it trouble you so.' He suggested.

John shook his head. 'Nay, after everything you have done. We shall see out the weekend and leave as planned. This is your home and your old world. One you have not touched in many months. ''Tis progress that I was hoping for, Zeb.'

Zebediah froze. 'What do you mean?'

John gave him a knowing smile. 'I seen the locket you carry in your breast pocket. It fell out the night we first found you. I seen the woman, your late wife I assumed, and your sons. All three of em lads. They be needing their father.'

Zebediah grunted. 'If they did, they'd have not looked far for I am within their reach in the town. I am unneeded.'

John laughed. 'You think that, but I sent word you was with a friend healing. And the healing is coming to an end. You have been a second father to my daughter. She is now yours too. So do you ken how she would feel if you abandoned her?'

'I'd do no such thing!'

John have him a knowing look and a grin. 'Aye.'

Zeb groaned. He knew exactly what the old man was thinking. He was thinking the same. He wouldn't abandon Mia, and the same stood for his own sons.

'How are you always right, you old fool?' They shared a laugh as his thoughts travelled to his sons.

His heart clenched with guilt at having left them alone to deal with something he had selfishly let push him close to destruction.

Never again.

~*~

Business matters occupied William whilst his siblings stayed with him during the mourning period. He was more oft out of the estate than in it. Dealing with the allocation of his father's last testament, and the duties that came along with being the Earl. The holiday house for George had taken a full month of residence away from Bischester. He had stayed there with his middle brother to sort through the legalities and trifle issues with the estate.

Sorting out issues betwixt his tenants, employees and house servants began to drain him physically and emotionally. Not to mention George's estate housemaid that had run off with a local lad. That added onto the childish bickering amongst brothers that had somehow never worn off even with age.

The subsequent hiring and sorting of new and old staff alike, and the mourning period, was proving to be droll, dull and tedious. Seemingly sapping life from him instead of standing as a tribute to his father's passing. The colour black was the last colour he should wear again once it was all over, he thought to himself more and more as the days went by.

His siblings, sister-in-law, Wife and the most long standing loyal of the house servants; including the head house maid Gerty, Nancy and Colin, observed the customs of the dreary lifeless colour too. It was like walking through a never ending funeral, day after day, after day.