Lord Trevor

My future as a Duke's son comprised of the following;

1. Get married.

2. Take over Lancastle.

3. Have children.

For any of the last two to happen, number one had to take place. There was no way around it, my father was here to talk about marriage. Or if I knew better, I would say he had already planned it.

The Duke closed the distance between us, his hands behind him, "What were you reading?"

Oh, dear.

"I, um," before I could finish, his hand was already flipping the pages of the adventure novel I was reading.

He hissed in disgust, "What is this nonsense?"

"An adventure novel." I lifted a brow. "I thought it was obvious."

Normally, I wouldn't snap back at my father. But today was different, he wouldn't speak ill of my interests anymore. If the fae didn't have any problem with it, I wonder why he did. It was just a novel.

There was a spark of surprise in his black eyes; a feature I had taken from him. He wasn't used to his perfectly groomed son snapping back. Well, he had better be ready because he had a lot more coming his way.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "You shouldn't be reading such... nonsense. Your mother..."

"Don't," I whispered, "don't talk about her father. I know what you want to say. I wouldn't end up like her."

He gazed outside the window, a silver glow casted over the water fountain, the clear water glistening under the moonlight. His hands were behind him again, his knuckles whitening. The flames flickered, their burning rage an epitome of the emotion swirling in my father's eyes. There was an awkward silence between us and it lingered for minutes.

"You're to get married by next week," he finally broke the silence.

My left finger twitched. If not for the fact that he was my father, I would've sent a fist to his face. Marriage? Marriage would limit my chances of having an adventure. The moment I got married, I would have no choice but to prepare myself to take over Lancastle; that would involve overseeing his lands and running his business. I knew the game my father was playing. He was willing to do anything to stop me from seeking adventure.

Well, two could play that game. I would make sure I made a bad impression to the parents of the girl, that way, they won't let their daughter marry me.

"She's beautiful, yes?" At least, if he was to force me into marriage, the girl should be worth the trouble.

"A damsel she is." On his head, I could spot a streak of black hair in the midst of grey ones. Years ago, you could've said we looked alike. But now, the years were telling on him. "She's the daughter of the Marquess of Ferinbourgh. You two would be a fine match."

"And let me guess, her father is very rich."

"Rich is an understatement."

Just what I expected of my father; marry for money, not for love. I wanted to be married to a woman that made my heart skip a beat. A women who would spark emotions I had never felt before. An adventure seeker just like me. An image of the fae flashed in my mind.

What nonsense! I was delirious! Besides, I didn't know much about her. For all I knew, she could be a bad person. But she promised me my heart desire. No evil person would do such a thing. The only thing that brewed a pot of disbelief in me, was the fact that she claimed she would do it for free.

"Be ready by tomorrow, we would be visiting her family in their estate," The Duke said, strolling to the entrance.

"I will be ready, father."

He held open the door. "And Trevor?"

I gazed up at him from my chair. "Yes father?"

"Stop seeking adventure, it would only bring you pain."

With that, he left the room.

Roaring at the top of my voice, I shoved my book off my study desk.

***

By the next morning, we were already on our way to Ferinbourgh. You must've thought my father would be all smiles because his plan was in motion. The thing was, I had a plan of my own too. One I knew he wouldn't like even if he were given a million pounds as a bribe.

Since we left the manor in our carriage, he had been gazing at me with a look that would make a deadly explosion look like fairy dust being sprinkled. I would normally cower in fear but now, I felt a thread of excitement crawl down my spine. Who knew pissing him off was this fun? If I had known, I would've done this a long time ago; not listening to his orders. And I had only one person to thank.

The beautiful fae.

I had always thought something was wrong with me for always wanting adventure - all because of the way my father treated the matter. But she... She proved to me that there was nothing wrong with wanting adventure and even went as far as offering it to me on a silver platter.

To hell with my father and his rules against wanting adventure. From now on, I was going to be the best me and I had already put the plan to motion.

For the first time since we left the manor, my father spoke, "Why are you dressed like that?"

I was peering outside the window, watching the streets of Lancastle; Vendors yelling at the top of their voices, ladies walking elegantly with fans in their hand and gentlemen striding in a proper attire- which seemed to be the problem my father had with me now.

"Didn't you hear me young man?" His voice was trimmed with rage.

I looked away from the window, travelling my gaze to him. "Pardon me father. What did you say?"

His tight jaw clenched, his grip on his top hat tightening. "I said, why, are you, wearing, that?"

"Oh this." I took in my outfit.

I was in a white workshirt tucked in tight black trousers that folded into brown leather boots. The bloody problems with my outfit were these;

1. The first two buttons of my shirt were unfastened.

2. I wasn't wearing a waist coat and a tail coat.

The last part I found inconvenient considering the recent hot weather in Lancastle. My father was still watching me like I was picked up from a scrapyard. That was what I wanted. If my father didn't like my attire, my potential bride's family won't love it either.

"Is there anything wrong with the cloth?" I asked, pretending to be oblivious.

"You should be in a proper attire."

"Which consists of?"

"What I'm wearing; A tail coat and a waist coat." He scrutinized me with an intense stare. "It's part of the things you learn about being a gentleman."

There he went again.

He doesn't stop does he?

Never.

Well he doesn't know what you have planned.

I smiled inwardly. Today was going to be a blast. He should just wait and see.

"Could you at least button up the shirt?" My father was asking me for something? Well, that was a first. He never asked for anything, he just demanded. Thank you fae!

I let my gaze drop to my broad chest, the two unhooked buttons revealing a a tanned skin that looked too exposed for a Brit - no matter how little the reveal was.

"Oh this." I smirked. "I know your generation isn't quite acquainted with this trend."

"What bloody trend?" His grey brows elevated.

"Ladies love a little tease these days." I wiggled my brows.

The Duke seemed to choke on his spit. Dear, dear, this was just the beginning. If I had known that behaving this way wasn't going to make my father throw me out of his home, I would have been a disobedient lad a long time ago. This fae gave me something I haven't had for a long time

My freedom.

Who knew, if I was able to prevent this marriage, I could probably go on an adventure too. Or if possible, hold a movement for adventurers with fathers like mine. 'Justice for adventurers,' would be our slogan. But one step at a time.

"You're a gentleman and shouldn't say such things out in the open," He glanced around our carriage, making sure no one heard me.

"We're not in the open father. We're in a carriage," I held my jaw, "And if I remembered correctly, a carriage is an enclosed vehicle."

He tightened his hold on his top hat. Bloody hell, he was going to choke out the life from that poor hat. Maybe I could add 'Justice for top hats' to my foreseeable movement.

"What happened to you, Trevor?" He started outside the window. "We don't usually argue like this."

I think you would have a certain fae to thank. She was the reason I was trying standing up for myself for the first time. It was time to be me. No more Mr gentleman. Well, I would still be a gentleman but I won't listen what my father asks of me. And I had to say, the results were rather spiffing.

"Nothing father." I winked at him, and thank Christ he didn't see that. He might strangle the last life left of that poor top hat. "It's just pre-wedding excitement."

"Well we better hurry up with the wedding then," He side glanced at me from the locks of grey hair hiding his cheeks, "I can't have you behaving this way for long. It's uncalled for."

I smiled. The poor old man didn't know what I had in store for him. Well, he would just have to wait to find out.

++++++++++++++++

Marquess Gerrard Atkinson's estate was indeed what I assumed it to be. Flanking both sides of a pathway were green fields being tendered to by servants, horses roaming the grass, their manes soaring behind them. The carriage made a turn around a fountain, stopping right before a large building. It had a wide classic portico with four white Corinthians columns bearing its weight.

Our footmen opened our doors, my father and I walking out with the grace of a Hasting. Perched at the short flight of stairs were the Atkinson's, their soldiers banding both sides of the family.

The Marquess was in between his wife and daughter, his red tail coat screaming, 'I'm rich!' and his fat form screaming 'I eat unhealthy!' No wonder my father chose him- not for his form, but for his money. His blue eyes observed me, his grey brows knitting, a bulbous nose raised to the sky. He didn't know how ugly he looked.

"Duke Hasting," He did a neck bow, taking off his top hat.

"Lord Gerrard," My father acknowledged him with slight nod.

"May I introduce you to my family," The marquess motioned at his wife and daughter, "This is my wife; Lady Monica and my daughter, Lady Jane."

The two women curtsied with their white gowns. I had to say, Lady Jane was a damsel. With long flowing golden blonde hair, a slender body and blue eyes, she was the perfect lady- according to any British man. Her mother, who was her carbon copy, but the older version with wrinkles on her forehead, spoke up.

"It's such an honour to have you in our home, Duke Hasting."

My father did his best impression of a smile. "The pleasure is mine."

"And who is this fine man?" The Marquess asked, his blue eyes trailing over my form, tightening when it saw the sword on my hips and widening when he saw the opening showing off my tanned chest. I smirked victoriously. My plan was working. There was more from where that came from.

"This is my son, Lord Trevor Hasting."

The family greeted me.

The Marquess did a nervous smile, blue eyes watching my sword. "Is there a reason you have a sword with you? As I remember, this was a family meeting not a Napoleonic war."

My father's back went stiff and slowly, very slowly, his black eyes clouding with anger slid to my waist. And there it hung, my sword with a golden hilt, tucked in a black sheath. He hadn't seen it before because I hit it under our seat. This was phase two of my plan.

Ignoring the Duke's neck burning glare, I teased the hilt of my sword with a finger, "Oh this," I said, "I use it to smite my enemies. Especially wedding planners."

He did a visible gulp, his eyes asking my father for an explanation. All the poor old man could do was blow out his frustration with a hot air. Oh dear, he was steaming hot. Perfect.

Seeing that nothing could be done about it, the Marquess spoke up, "Well, I think its best we let these two walk the fields. Don't you think so love?" He turned to his wife. She was drowning in uncertainty. The sword on my waist must've given her a heart attack. No one would want their daughter walking in a field with a wedding planner killer. But seeing as her husband's stare intensified, she had no choice but to let up. He was the man of the house after all.

"Y-yes," she stuttered. "We should let them walk the fields."

"Splendid." My father smiled a real smile this time. One that meant 'My plan is going smoothly.'

Time to roughen the path then, don't you think?

We're in accord subconscious.

We're in bloody accord.