Love & Misunderstanding

Chapter Fifteen - Jonathan's POV

There was an undeniable tension hanging in the air as Vincent, our father, and I galloped off into the forest, each on our own respected steed. Father had suggested that we go out hunting as a means of pass the time. Personally I was not terribly fond of the idea. Under normal circumstances, I did not mind when Father spent time with us, for it was a rare occasion. However, all of the previous hunting trips had ended in one of us getting fed up with the others and returning home early. Frankly, we did not usually see eye to eye.

We brought along a small pack of approximately ten hunting dogs, as well as one servant. The dogs were meant to help us gather the game, and the servant was meant to ensure that we did not start strangling one another. All right, that might be a bit overly dramatic, but it was not that far off. Although, to be perfectly honest, the servant always seemed to stay out of our arguments. Perhaps that was because of a certain incident which had caused one of the previous servants to quit.

"Remind me why I agreed to come on another hunting trip with you two," I asked as we came to a halt in the middle of the forest.

"I believe you agreed to come so that Father would stop pestering you," Vincent explained.

Yes, that was indeed the reason, or at least part of it. Both Father and Vincent had pestered me about it all morning, practically begging me to join them. The other reason was that it gave me an excuse to get away from Mother.

"Why are you so against it, Jonathan?" Father asked.

"Pardon me if I do not enjoy hunting as much as you two," I stated.

"Well, what would you like to do?" he asked, preparing his gun for the hunt.

I could think of at least a dozen other activities I would rather do, although most of them did not involve my father or brother. However, there were still a few activities that we could all do together. You may have already guessed it, but I was not terribly fond of hunting. Yes, I understood that it was a popular past time, but I had never been interested in it. Vincent and my father were the outdoors men, even though I myself quite enjoyed being outside.

"A casual ride or walk through the forest would be sufficient."

"You do more than enough walking as it is," Vincent pointed out.

"I just do not see why we always have to go hunting."

"The hunting trip is a tradition in our family. My father used to take me hunting three times a year."

Our grandfather, Vincent Gilmore I, after whom my brother had been named, had never been a favourite of ours. He had died when I was only four years old, but I could still remember him fairly well. He was notoriously strict and would not tolerate any unruliness. I often wondered whether that was why father had turned out the way he did.

"You are not your father and we are not you," I replied. "Thank goodness for that."

"What is wrong with me?"

"Nothing, you just tend to ignore us."

"Here we go again," Vincent mumbled.

Vincent hated it when we argued, even though he joined in often times, taking father's side obviously. Out of all three of the children, Vincent was the one who got along the best with our parents, surprisingly enough, even our mother. At times, I got jealous of him because of how close he was to father. They were very similar, although Vincent was obviously more outgoing and flirtatious.

"I will have you know that I take more notice than you realize," he protested.

"All right, when is my birthday?" I tested him.