Dinner At Mainecroft Castle

Running his other hand over the head of the chair, he calmly said. "I do not care whatever lies between the de Nocrosses and the Cossingtons, but I don't appreciate you bringing your personal family issues into my home." Carlisle turned and walked to the window. What was it about windows that always called to him? Alexander wondered. Once or twice, he had stood with him and the same things remained outside; people and more people. "I would not stand for it, Carlisle." He said, loud enough to be heard, low enough to command immersion.

Turned from him, Carlisle said. "There are no issues between us."

"No?" Alexander stood upright. "Not even the fact that you delayed your marriage to his sister and brought another woman along as your guest?" Carlisle's eyes remained out the window, refusing to respond to him. He pressed on. "Not even that?"

"There are no issues between us." Carlisle reiterated.

The doors opened and the servants came in, walking in rolls, bringing along different dishes to set the table. He had commanded an elaborate dinner and they seemed to have concurred perfectly. Edmund walked around, ordering them around to attain a proper dish placement. The servants bowed multiple times as they worked. He acknowledged them with many nods until he couldn't anymore.

Walking over, he joined Carlisle over by the window. True again, people and more people were the sight to see. "You said Cossington did not misbehave with the sisters." Carlisle's eyes moved. "That is not what I am being led to believe."

Unlike himself, the other man hissed. Alexander ceased his pressing on him. it would serve no good if Carlisle's anger came through before dinner. He knew his friend and he was in no mood to entertain any outburst of madness.

"You came upon Cossington manhandling the woman you wish to make your friend. I say the friendship between you and your brother-in-law is lost."

"Lady Cossington and I are not married."

Alexander did not fail to notice the absence of 'yet' in his statement. He was slowly rejecting the sister of the Lord of Sorway as he should have years ago. If he had, whatever that lay between the families would have died for as long.

Carlisle did not like the woman, and Alexander concurred. She was one of the debutantes of society; spoiled, educated to a core, never needing to do or think without the assistance of their fathers, brothers or husbands. And the embodiment of boredom.

Carlisle held no fondness for the woman he was to marry, a sentiment that Alexander shared and understood wholeheartedly. Lady Cossington was one of society's debutantes: spoiled, entitled, groomed and religiously refined to be a 'perfect' wife, one whose existence seemed devoid of independent thought or action, accustomed to relying on the support of either their fathers, brothers or husbands. Like every other woman he had had over the years, an embodiment of boredom.

"Your Majesty?" Edmund called from behind them. Alexander turned. "The table is set."

"Hmm." He left Carlisle to go observe the arrangements. An elaborate dinner, fine dishes, and even name tags beside each plate. He nodded, accepting. "You can leave."

"Yes, Sire." The man bowed as did the other servants and they filed out.

Alexander's face lit up with his mischievous smile as he settled into his seat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. "And what, pray tell, do you intend to do, 'Your Grace'?" He teased, his tone playful. As Carlisle began to respond, Alexander raised a hand, halting him mid-sentence. "I do not hold the man in high regard myself, but I would be blind not to recognize his value in my court. While he may often appear foolish, there are moments when wisdom unexpectedly finds him." He remarked, pouring himself a glass of water. "Whatever plans you may have, I trust they won't disrupt the purpose behind our gathering here." He warned, taking a sip from his glass.

Carlisle was not an unreasonable man and was never one to act impulsively or without justification. He had always been methodical and composed, carefully weighing his decisions, but that was until he came, bringing this friend of his. Lady Fitzgerald was tugging at Carlisle and Alexander saw it. There was a shift in his demeanour. It was there in the way he fiercely protected her from perceived threats, and the constant glares he sent his way whenever he spoke out of turn. She was different, but his friend was still in denial and too dumb to realize it yet.

"What was it that made Cossington brave enough to make a move in my home anyways?" Alexander asked. Carlisle finally turned away from the window. "Is there something I should know?"

"I will see to the bottom of it." His friend declared with an air of finality, strolling back to the table, hands in his pockets.

Brand walked into the dining hall as soon as Carlisle made his declaration and sat himself down by Alexander, sitting to the right.

The bottom of what? Did Cossington have his eyes on Lady Fitzgerald or was it Guinevere he had in his thoughts? Alexander pondered, for the moment, decided to put the topic to rest.

"I have invited them to dinner." Carlisle's voice came to him as he sat down opposite Brand.

Alexander coughed lightly, discreetly clearing his throat before speaking. It was a good notion. He had met to invite the ladies to dinner too. "You have either become remarkably perceptive of my tendencies, or perhaps you've grown rather impulsive." He remarked, tilting his head. as he observed his friend. "Or is it that you cannot survive the moments when Lady Fitzgerald is far from you?"

"Alexander,…" Carlisle started.

"Perhaps you should have excused the young lady from the table." Brand interjected.

"Who? Lady Fitzgerald?"

"Yes. The younger Lady Fitzgerald."

In one swift movement, his eyes were on Brand. "Why should she be excused?" Why should Guinevere be absent?

"According to the older sister, she had suffered an insult in the company of Cossington before our arrival. It would be wickedness to have her sit down to a meal with him."

"What had Cossington done?" Brand shrugged his shoulders, scratching his left eyebrow. Alexander sat back into his seat, searching for Carlisle's eyes, but the latter would not look at him.

He knew what his brother meant. It was a concern; genuine concern for someone who did not deserve another round of mistreatment. Cossington was always a fool, letting his wealth rather than his sense speak for him. How unfortunate that he had chosen to target the very girl who had recently captured his attention and interest.

Why did Guinevere hold his interest? He had only known her for a day, less of it, to be candid, yet it vexed him that she had suffered an insult from one of his lords. The notion of her being asked to leave the table filled him with a sense of unease and dissatisfaction.

"Has she not already been invited?" He questioned Carlisle.

Brand spoke instead. "She has, but…"

That was all he needed to know. "Then there is nothing to it. Don't you think it would be more insulting to be asked away from the table than sitting with Cossington?" Brand's gaze shifted to him, but his focus remained fixed on Carlisle. "I know you have promised them your protection for this trip, but I will see to it that they are not overlooked."

"What are your plans for dinner, Alexander?" Brand asked from his side.

He finally directed his attention towards his brother, his lips curving into a smile. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You are smiling. Will dinner be unpleasant or entertaining?"

"It depends on the side you find yourself, Brother." His smile broadened as did Brand's. Like him, his brother was beginning to anticipate the moment. When Carlisle scoffed, he almost laughed. The Duke must think him and his brother unwell and he would accept the thought as long as all worked out in his favour. Sitting with Guinevere was an opportunity that was bequeathed him and by everything righteous, he would take full advantage of it.

He suddenly wanted to spend time alone with her.

"Edmund!" His kingman ran in. "Summon the servants; I want the hall rearranged before the guests arrive."

"Rearranged how, Your Majesty?" Edmund asked.

Alexander's smile stretched. "Less formal, more jovial."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The man bowed and hurried away to fulfil the command.

Alexander looked to Brand and the brothers shared a knowing laughter. Carlisle shook his head.