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“Will you be coming down from there, or do I need to come fetch you?”
Gregory peered down at his eldest brother. Anthony stood on the front lawn, fists firmly planted on his hips. A formidable sight under normal conditions, but especially so for someone who had recently stuck a toad in his new sister-in-law’s wardrobe.
“I do not think the trellis will hold you.” Greg swung his legs as they dangled off the edge of the roof. He’d been climbing up the trellis to get to the roof for years now. It had a good view to see above the trees, which he enjoyed. More importantly, it was also far enough away from his family to keep him safe from repercussion when he caused mischief. When he needed hiding out to avoid, well, a hiding, he’d scramble right up here and stay as long as it took for someone to cajole him down or lose interest in disciplining him.
Anthony looked unimpressed with his helpful observation. “I will fetch a ladder if you will not come down. And do not think that I will be less cross if I have to do that. It would be wise to climb down right now.”
Hmm. Gregory reluctantly had to admit that there was some logic to that. Just a few months ago, after an incident involving him and Hyacinth playing croquet with their mother’s garden gnomes, Gregory had attempted to hide out in the woods surrounding their estate. It had taken Anthony nearly an hour to find him, and he’d been far from thrilled once he’d done so. Greg had been in double trouble! Which was a lot less fun than the rhyme made it sound.
Greg stuck his head back over the edge to eye Anthony suspiciously. “Do you promise not to shout if I come down?”
“This is not a negotiation, Gregory. Down. Now.” Anthony pursed his lips, adding, “I will do my best to not shout.”
Good enough. Gregory crawled over to the trellis, climbing briskly back down to the ground. Anthony caught him around the waist before his feet could touch earth, lifting him all the way down. “I wish you would not climb this thing anymore. It’s far too old and you’re becoming too big for it to hold your weight much longer.” Given the exasperation in his tone, Anthony’s hands were surprisingly gentle as they set him on the ground and brushed (imaginary) dust off of Gregory’s clothes.
“It’s not really very high if I fall.”
His brother looked unimpressed by that logic. “Let’s try to avoid falling anyway, shall we?”
With a guiding (imprisoning) hand on his shoulder, Anthony led him back into the house. Gregory was dismayed when he was not immediately released once indoors, and instead was led towards the study. Damn. Hardly any good discussions were ever had in there.
The study had, allegedly, been the place their father would always see to the discipline of his older children. Colin had told him many horror stories involving canes and straps being swished about in there that he only sort of believed. He’d once asked Benedict if their father had ever really used a cane like Colin swore; Benedict had told him not to believe everything Colin said but had winced ever so slightly while saying it and then quickly shooed him off. So who knows where the truth lies. Either way, Gregory was often glad that Anthony had never had the stomach for more than a few whacks with a slipper as his most extreme form of punishment. He was fairly certain that even Colin, as much as he loved to push their eldest brother’s buttons, had never even received worse than that from Anthony.
Once in the study, Anthony took his usual seat behind his desk, hands folded neatly on the tabletop. Gregory tried to decide whether it would be better to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk or to just stand. He opted for standing, assuming it had the effect of looking more contrite as well as giving him the ability to quickly make a break for it if need be. It was his deeply held belief that discussions like these always needed a clear escape route.
Anthony began Gregory’s least favorite game: the staring contest. The two maintained eye contact, neither apparently keen to be the first to speak. Eventually, Anthony sighed loud and heavy. Victory. Gregory thought he saw a flicker of amusement on Anthony’s face as he said, “Well? Care to explain how a frog wound up in Kate’s wardrobe?”
“I believe it was a toad.”
“Oh of course. Well that changes everything.” Anthony clapped his hands with a sarcasm that Gregory resisted the urge to point out was probably unfitting of a Viscount. “You are free to go now that I know it was merely a toad.”
“Alright, thank you.” Gregory called his bluff, turning for the door.
“Freeze.” So close. “Come back here and explain yourself, Gregory.”
Gregory turned back, reluctantly stepping back up to the desk. His answering shrug did not seem to be satisfactory if the pinch that appeared in Anthony’s brow was anything to go by. Before Anthony could launch into whatever lecture he was surely preparing, Gregory hastened to add, “It was just a prank. A little joke.”
“A joke?” One raised eyebrow told Greg all he needed to know about Anthony’s thoughts on that excuse.
Despite that, Gregory nodded. “It was supposed to just jump out at her and scare her a little.”
“While that still would not have been particularly amusing, that was not what happened, was it?”
No it was certainly not. Gregory had heard the Viscountess’ shrieks from where he’d been listening in the next room. What were initially (amusing) yells of surprise quickly turned into ones of horror. The toad, as with most toads, had not been exceptionally clean when Gregory had caught it in the pond. In hindsight, a quick rinse off probably would have done wonders for the situation. But as it happens, Gregory opted to leave the toad as is, mud and slime and all, and stick it in the wardrobe. As most people would have been able to foresee, that mud spread from the jumping creature to much of the surrounding clothing. Including, to everyone’s ire, the gown Kate was planning to wear to the first event of the season that evening. The gown was brand new and had had all the ladies of the house eagerly discussing its beauty. Gregory thought it just looked like a normal blue bejeweled dress, but no one had asked his opinion on it.
The dress was, unfortunately for Kate but rather more so Gregory, completely stained and had been declared ruined.
To be quite honest, Gregory did not see the big deal. Yes, it was a waste of money. But how much could dresses really cost? The ladies seemed to have a new one everyday, so the cost could not be breaking the bank. And Kate had many many other dresses she could just wear tonight. So who was actually harmed?
Well, Gregory supposed he was likely going to feel harmed by the end of this.
“I am sorry the dress was ruined.” Gregory did his best to look like he too thought the loss of this gown was a great travesty upon the world. Oh curses, how will we ever go on without this wonderful dress?
“Are you?” Damn, his grief stricken performance wasn’t convincing enough. “You’ve hurt my wife’s feelings and ruined our night, are you actually sorry for that?”
Gregory bristled. God forbid their attendance of yet another boring party have a slight hiccup. “Yes, I am terribly sorry for upsetting your wife. I will do my best to avoid interacting with her further.”
“I do not like your tone, Gregory.” Anthony’s own tone was sharp.
“I do not like yours either.” A witty retort if he had been speaking to someone like Colin, but it made Anthony’s eyes narrow dangerously.
“Excuse me?” The staring contest restarted as Gregory refused his instinct to immediately apologize for the cheek. It lasted only a few seconds before Anthony abruptly stood. “That seems to be quite enough discussion then. Clearly other measures are needed here.” He reached into the dreaded bottom desk drawer. Shit. The slipper of doom emerged in his hand, and it sounded like someone was playing a haunting melody somewhere far away in Gregory’s mind.
Anthony moved around to be standing with Gregory in front of the desk. He looked critically at Greg for a beat. Whatever he found made him sigh heavily and take a seat on one of the guest chairs. “Come here, lad.”
“Anthony…”
“Now, Gregory.” With as much reluctance as he dared, Gregory shuffled over to stand at Anthony’s side, starting to bend.
A clicking of a tongue stopped him from fully bending over. So close. But, naturally Anthony would never forget to require Gregory lower his trousers. Prat always remembered everything. Gregory slowly undid the belt on his trousers, fingers trembling. At least his clear (and embarrassing) nerves had the effect of softening Anthony’s face ever so slightly. Getting his bottoms down, he practically threw himself over Anthony’s lap, ready to get it all over and done with.
A heavy hand came to rest on his back, both comforting and clearly intended to keep him from wiggling free. The other hand was conspicuously unaccounted for.
Aaaand there it was. Picking up that terrible slipper and bringing it down right smack on Gregory’s backside. He missed its absence already.
Anthony’s preference was a swat for every year of your age. Gregory often found this to be an irritating strategy as there were many instances where he and Hyacinth got into mischief together. The unjustness of her getting a measly eleven swats while he got a whole twelve burned him every time, even more so than the actual swat burned his arse. Thankfully, his sister was making herself scarce right now. Or listening at the door to hear him catch it. That was always a distinct possibility.
Another smack caused him to jump, Anthony’s hand the only thing keeping him from bouncing right up and off. Ow.
By the third, Gregory was considering starting a letter writing campaign to the Queen requesting that she ban the production of slippers. Dear your Majesty, please consider shutting down all slipper production plants in the nation, they serve no good purpose for society, particularly for the poor unfortunate population of young boys within society. Yours truly, Hyacinth Bridgerton. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to sign his actual name, naturally.
Damn, forget writing to the Queen. The fourth and fifth spanks sealed his decision. He was going to burn the slipper factories down himself. And then he was going to round up every slipper in the country and burn those too. Starting with this particular devil of a shoe, scorching his arse at the moment.
“Are you listening to me, Gregory?” Double damn, had Anthony been speaking?
“Um, yes?”
“Well then answer me.” A sharp smack to his thigh.
Gregory hedged his bet and said, “I’m very sorry?” When that just earned him another swat he continued on, “I mean, I won’t do it again?”
Anthony paused, making the cruel decision to rest the slipper against Gregory’s sore backside. “I asked if Kate had done anything to upset you, or if you were merely playing a careless joke for the sake of playing a joke.”
Oh. Well that wasn’t really a question he wanted to be answering right at this moment. Technically speaking, Kate had done nothing to him. She’d been lovely since marrying Anthony and moving in. All she did was take up Anthony’s time. All of it. Every single day. And really, shouldn’t she have his time? She was his stupid wife. She deserved his time, even if it meant Gregory barely saw him anymore.
So no she hadn’t done anything.
“No, I suppose not… It was just a joke.”
Anthony didn’t immediately start spanking again. “You suppose not?” Gregory didn’t respond, both sitting in the silence for a few moments. Eventually Anthony sighed, said a quiet, “I see” and resumed his onslaught on Gregory’s bottom.
The final half of the whacks landed quickly, not giving Gregory much time to holler in between. Although he made good use of his very brief hollering window, loudly making his displeasures known.
Once done with his task, Anthony set the slipper down on the desk. He patted Gregory’s back a few times before gently lifting him off his lap. Once settled back on his own two feet in front of his brother, Gregory sniffled and valiantly kept from rubbing his backside. It took great effort.
A hand resting lightly on top of his head got Gregory to glance up. His stomach unclenched at seeing the warm look that had replaced the previous stoniness on Anthony’s face.
Smoothing his hand through Gregory’s hair, Anthony’s voice was soft, “I know you never mean to be unkind with your jokes. Well, maybe you do sometimes when they’re played on Hyacinth,” he gave a teasing tug to one of the strands of hair by Gregory’s ear, “but in the future, please try to think through the possible effects that your pranks could have.”
“I will.” Gregory promised, staring at his feet with great interest. A warm hand cupped his cheek briefly before pulling away.
Anthony stepped back to go around his desk once more. He returned that evil slipper to its rightful place in the bottom drawer from hell. Good riddance. “Now, I have some work to do before this evening.” Gregory tried not to feel disappointed.
“Yes sir, I will leave you to it.”
He took a step back, stopping when Anthony said, “You could stay with me while I work.” He turned, surprised, and saw Anthony watching him with an earnest expression.
“Are you sure?”
His brother’s response was to pat his upper thigh pointedly. “Come sit with me. Keep me company while I review these dull figures.”
Keeping Anthony company while he worked had been one of Gregory’s favorite activities as a smaller child, but he hadn’t sat with him like that in at least a year. He was practically grown after all, he’d be an Eton man soon enough. It really wasn’t proper for someone as mature as him to sit on his big brother’s knee while he sorts through the financial records.
But…
Well who was going to know? Gregory certainly wouldn’t tell (Hyacinth would surely have a laugh at him) and Anthony was far from a gossip.
Sufficiently convinced he wasn’t going to deeply embarrass himself, Gregory hurried around the desk, hopping up to sit on Anthony’s lap. He’d somehow briefly forgotten that his backside was sore.
It instantly reminded him.
Yelping, he would’ve jumped right back up if Anthony hadn’t wrapped an arm around his middle. The big traitor laughed, keeping him pinned in place. Gregory felt a chin dig into the top of his head, feeling funny against him as Anthony spoke, “You’re fine, now sit still while I read to you the thrilling accounts of our farming lands.” The words were more playful than gruff, and Gregory found himself relaxing against Anthony’s chest as he heard all about acreage and apple orchard outputs.