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“Anthony, are you certain about this?” Benedict was very uncertain. He also didn’t like that he was apparently the voice of reason right now. He had enough self awareness to know that if he was the most sensible person in the room, it was going to be an interesting time. He glanced sideways at his brother.
Anthony had a set, determined look on his face. “Yes, I’m certain. Victory is *my* horse.”
“Going to be your horse,” Benedict pointed out. “Father said he was going to be your horse, once he was fully trained. He said it would be very dangerous to ride until then.” Anthony was striding towards the stables as they spoke, and Benedict had to half skip to keep up.
“Since when are you so concerned with what father says? He worries too much. It’s not as if the horse were wild, it’s just young and spirited. I’m an excellent rider, I can handle that.”
They reached the stables and Anthony quietly lifted the latch on the door, putting a finger to his lips to remind Benedict to be silent. It was past midnight, and the grooms had apartments in the second story of the stable. It wouldn’t do to wake them.
The boys silently readied their horses. Benedict’s horse Milton had been his for years and docilely followed him out into the yard, allowing himself to be saddled and mounted. Anthony had more trouble with Victory, but had come armed with sugar cubes and was able to keep the young stallion calm and mostly quiet while he got him ready and climbed into the saddle.
Benedict watched Anthony wrestle with the reins to try and direct Victory towards the lake. Once he finally got him going in the direction he wanted, Ben followed slowly on Milton. He wondered vaguely if Anthony had taken ill, or perhaps been replaced with a changeling. Not that his older brother wasn’t occasionally up for some fun mischief, but this was different. Father had been quite clear that none of them were to ride Victory until he said it was all right. Benedict had never known Anthony to disobey father so directly, without any cajoling or begging from Benedict.
Benedict had actually tried to talk him out of it. The disobedience didn’t bother him that much, but riding an untrained horse seemed both dangerous and not that much fun. It seemed like a lot to risk both a riding accident and what was sure to be an epic hiding if caught in what they were doing now, which was ambling towards the lake while Anthony swore at his horse for fighting his lead.
Suddenly Victory reared up and from Benedict’s perspective it looked like the horse was doing a backflip before he realised it was Anthony falling to the ground. Benedict pulled Milton up short and leapt off as fast as he could, as Victory went galloping away from them.
“Anthony?!” He shouted, in an absolute panic. His brother wasn’t moving. Oh God, should he run for the house, stay with him and shout for help? They were awfully far from the main house, making neither seem like a good option. As he knelt down beside Anthony he had the crazy panicked thought that if his brother was dead Benedict would have to be Viscount someday.
“Wake Up! I don’t want to be Viscount!” He yelled.
To his immense relief Anthony sat slowly up, rubbing the back of his head. “Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up.” He turned to his brother incredulously. “And ‘I don’t want to be Viscount?’ You think I might be dead and *that’s* what you’re worried about?”
Benedict was too happy to have Anthony up and sensate to argue about panicked admissions. “Are you alright? Can you feel your toes? Did you hit your head really hard? Who’s the Prime Minister?”
Anthony slowly moved to his feet. He could feel his toes just fine, and his legs and back, which felt a bit bruised. He looked at the worried face of his normally devil may care brother. “I’m fine Benedict, don’t be such a nursemaid. And do *you* know who the Prime Minister is?”
Benedict shook his head, still studying Anthony for signs of damage, running his hand along the back of his head to check for something. Blood maybe? He’d seen his mother do it when the younger children fell down. Anthony shook him off irritably.
“William Pitt is that answer by the way. You should really know that. Now where did the damn horse go?”
Benedict shrugged and waved his arm in the general direction Victory had run off in. “That way somewhere. At the speed he was going, you’re never going to catch him.”
Anthony groaned. “We’re dead then. I think they’re going to notice a missing horse come the morning.”
Benedict refrained from saying ‘*we’re* dead?’ After all, his horse wasn’t going to be missing, but it didn’t seem like that would be helpful at the moment.
To his surprise Anthony continued his uncharacteristic rebellion all the way back to the stable, complaining that this was all fathers fault for not allowing him to just ride the damn horse in the daytime. He was nearly a man and didn’t need to be coddled, he was more than capable of riding a spirited horse, etc.
Benedict held his tongue again, not mentioning that Anthony had not in fact been capable of riding the horse, that’s why they were now slowly walking Milton back to the stables. When they finally arrived back everything was just as they’d left it, the grooms presumably still sound asleep.
Anthony paused at the door and the look in his eyes made Benedict anxious.
“Put Milton back just as you found him. I’m going to leave Victory’s door open, perhaps they’ll assume it was left unlatched by mistake and the horse just got out.”
Benedict hesitated. “What if they blame one of the grooms? I don’t want to get anyone else in trouble.” He really was turning into a nervous Nellie. He hoped Anthony went back to his stodgy self soon, all of this worry about consequences didn’t suit Benedict.
Anthony rolled his eyes at him. Father was right, it *was* obnoxious when someone did that at you.
“They won’t be able to narrow it down to one groomsman, and if they do blame someone else, we’ll confess. I swear you sound like an old maid.”
Benedict scowled at him but began carefully putting Milton’s tack away. There Anthony went with the we again. Benedict wasn’t clear on why *he* would need to confess to anything in that situation, but he’d cross that bridge if it came up. At least Anthony helped him settle Milton back in place.
They worked their way quietly back into Aubrey Hall through the door they’d left unlatched and tiptoed up the stairs to their neighboring rooms. This end of the hall was quiet, mother and fathers rooms being on the other end, and Colin and the girls a floor above in the nursery. Benedict was still careful to be quiet as he removed his clothes and got into bed. He hoped Anthony was right and everyone just assumed the new horse had escaped on its own. He wondered vaguely how much a horse cost as he drifted off.
Edmund Bridgerton studied the two boys shifting uncomfortably in front of him. To his surprise Anthony scowled at him when their eyes met, causing Edmund to raise a warning eyebrow at him. It didn’t get rid of the scowl, but it did cause his oldest to break eye contact and aim it at the floor. He turned to look at Benedict who gave him an apologetic grimace. That was a bit of a shift in demeanors. Not that it changed anything.
“Gentleman,” he began. “We have a bit of a mystery on our hands this morning. It seems when Mr. Coulson and the groomsmen woke this morning, our fine new horse Victory was not in his stable, but rather grazing freely in the yard, showing signs of having run wild most of the night.” He noted a distinct look of relief on both boys' faces, as if they were surprised to hear Victory was there at all. Anthony schooled it away quickly and spoke first.
“That is odd father, perhaps his stable gate wasn’t latched correctly. You did say he was a very clever horse.” Anthony’s voice was steady and confident, but the cadence was odd, with a well practiced ring to it, and he did not meet Edmund’s eyes as he spoke. Edmund would bet a great deal of money that his son was telling him a tale.
Benedict’s unsubtle look of worry at his brother supported that supposition as well, as did the other pieces of Edmund’s mystery. He supposed he should share those pieces with his sons as well, before Anthony fully hung himself.
“That is certainly a possibility, but it doesn’t explain the footprints in the mud around the stables.” He looked at Anthony to see his response to that.
Anthony shrugged insolently. “Horse thieves perhaps? Incompetent ones?”
If Edmund wasn’t so upset with his sons the look on Benedict’s face might have been funny. He was quite upset though, so rather than laugh he continued on.
“And the mud halfway up Milton’s legs? Or tracked through the house? Or all over these pairs of boots?” He pulled the boys riding boots out from behind his desk. They were in fact quite covered in mud.
“I think you are correct Anthony, that we are dealing with a pair of quite incompetent, disobedient, horse thieves.” Edmund’s tone had turned very stern.
Benedict winced and glanced at his brother. Anthony, rather than looking contrite as Benedict had expected, was instead glaring at their father quite fiercely.
“Alright, so you know *we* took the horses. There’s no need to be so dramatic about it, you can’t steal what’s yours. Victory is *my* horse and Milton is Benedicts. We can ride them if we want to.”
Edmund and Benedict both stared at Anthony with some amount of shock. Edmund recovered first.
“Young man, I would temper your tone and I would do so quickly. And to make something very clear, you are all of fifteen years old and you own nothing. Victory and Milton are *my* horses that I allow, or disallow, you to ride at my sole discretion. Just as you and Benedict are *my* sons and you will obey me or you will find yourselves unable to sit at my discretion. Now I would like to know how my brand new horse that you were instructed not to ride ended up wandering the grounds all night long.”
Edmund had stood up and was close to shouting by the end and took a deep breath to calm his temper. He could see Anthony preparing to speak, but the look in his eyes could certainly not be called contrite so Edmund held his hand up to silence him. “I believe I would like to hear from Benedict now.”
His second born winced again and glanced hesitantly at Anthony before reluctantly turning back to his father. Edmund moved to the front of his desk and leaned against it, to encourage Benedict to be truthful.
“Wellll,” he started. “We, Anthony and I, that is, got to talking last night about the new horse. Anthony really wanted to check in on him and uh, start forming a bond, for when he was allowed to ride him. So we decided to go down to the stables and take a look, real quiet, because the hour was late and we didn’t want to disturb anyone.”
“How late?” Edmund interrupted him.
“Umm, perhaps a bit past twelve?” Benedict hedged.
“I see. So after midnight, when you were both meant to be abed, the two of you dressed in your riding kit and walked down to the stables just to take a look at the horse.”
“Umm, well, we wanted to be prepared.” Benedict glanced at Anthony to see if he had any help to offer, but his useless brother was just glaring at their father.
“Prepared to ride the horses I presume. Milton, and the new, dangerous horse that I had expressly forbidden to be ridden?” Edmund’s anger was seeping through again. He did not appreciate being disobeyed at any time, but particularly in a matter of safety such as this.
Before Benedict could come up with a response Anthony broke in, clearly unable to hold his own temper any longer.
“Of course we went down there to ride the horses. I am a near grown man and more than capable of riding my own horse! Just because you’re fretting over it like a damn addlepated cocksucking-
Anthony was cut off when his fathers hand struck the side of his face with a loud slapping sound. Benedict jumped in surprise, he had never seen father slap someone before, but god almighty, what was wrong with Anthony? He had brought his hand up to the reddened area and his eyes were wide with surprise and unshed tears, but they hadn’t lost their angry look.
Edmund looked very serious. “You will not swear at me again. I don’t care if you’re twice the age you are now, if you speak to me like that again I will react the same, is that clear?”
Benedict didn’t think he was being addressed, but answered anyway. “Yes sir.”
Edmund nodded curtly at him, but kept most of his focus on Anthony. “Anthony Edmund?”
Anthony ground out, “Yes sir.”
“Good.” Now he turned to Benedict. “Tell me exactly what happened last night, no prevarications.”
Benedict wasn’t a fool, and it looked like he was going to be stuck in the role of good son for a while longer, so he went ahead and spilled the whole story, midnight ride, thrown Anthony, and the poor attempt to cover their tracks.
Edmund nodded at the thirteen year old when he was done. “Thank you Benedict. Anthony, do you have anything to add?”
Anthony shook his head, face full of mute anger.
“Alright then.” Edmund went to the cupboard behind his desk and contemplated the contents for a moment, before removing both the strap and large slipper. Benedict had been foolish to follow his brother around on his middle of the night escapade, but had not himself done anything dangerous, Edmund thought it appropriate to distinguish their punishments.
“Anthony, to the corner.” His oldest scowled at him and for a moment Edmund thought he might disobey outright. Luckily the boy waited only an extra beat before turning to the far corner and planting his nose in it. Edmund let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.
“Benedict.” He said sternly, gesturing to the desk.
Benedict slowly approached the desk and lowered his trousers and pants. He was ninety percent sure that he was getting the slipper and the strap was for Anthony, but there was a worrying possibility that father was mad enough about the whole thing to use both. He hadn’t experienced the large strap before and the leather shone at him ominously. He glanced nervously at it as he bent over.
Edmund must have noticed and taken some pity on the thirteen year old.
“For sneaking out in the middle of the night and taking your horse, which you know you’re not supposed to do, and assisting your brother in his asinine and dangerous scheme, you’ve earned yourself a thorough slippering.”
He had considered using the strap on Benedict, it was certainly what Anthony had earned, but upon consideration what Benedict had done hadn’t really been that bad. Edmund would have preferred that he would’ve gone for help when he understood the dangerousness of what Anthony was undertaking, but he understood the difficulty of going against an older sibling. That didn’t mean he was going to get off easy though. Edmund knew well how to roast a naughty boys bottom with his slipper. He placed a steady hand on Benedict’s back and prepared to do just that.
Benedict supposed he was relieved to not feel the strap on his behind but he knew the slipper was going to be unpleasant. Father was still quite angry. He felt badly for Anthony, who presumably wasn’t going to be slippered, he didn’t think his father had gotten the strap out just for fun. Anthony fell out of his head with a first stroke of the slipper, father was not kidding around.
The hard and worn sole slapped into his bare bottom, the sound as sharp as the feel. Father was methodical with it. He followed a horrible cycle starting at the crest of his bottom on both sides, down to his thighs, then to the top again. No part of his arse was spared. After a minute or so he began lecturing as well. Benedict never understood why he did that. It’s not that Benedict wasn’t paying attention, he heard every word, but it was hard to take much in and really concentrate on it when his arse was on fire.
Still, Edmund did his best. “You are not to be up and about on the grounds in the middle of the night. It is not safe and it is not healthy. In addition, while you are permitted to ride Milton when you like during the daytime, any horse is dangerous to ride at night, even one that you know well. You also knew certainly well that Anthony was not to be riding his horse, and you are old enough to understand how dangerous that could be. While the bulk of that blame rests on your brother‘s shoulders I would like to think at 13 you would have the common sense to know when a sibling is behaving with such danger that it is sensible to wake an adult and get help!”
Benedict let out a particularly loud groan at that. He wasn’t gonna say so to father in this position, but he could not imagine turning into a snitch. Edmund might have discerned his meaning because the groan was followed by several hard low strokes to his sit spots. That did seem to be it for the lecture though and not long after the spanking itself stopped as well.
Benedict stood slowly, wiping tears from his eyes. He resisted the urge to reach back and rub. He didn’t bother to fix his trousers, suspecting, correctly, that father would put him in the corner. He shuffled past a still furious looking Anthony and took up his spot. He supposed the strap would fix Anthony’s temper. Benedict was not really looking forward to listening to it.
Edmund contemplated his oldest son. It was unlike Anthony to be so rebellious, particularly after having to listen to his brother be chastised for trouble that he had gotten him into. Anthony only scowled at him.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself young man?” There was no longer a mark on the side of his face where Edmund had struck him. He still felt a small pang of guilt for that. He did not make it a habit to slap his children across the face, it had never been necessary before. But Anthony could not be permitted to speak to him that way. Besides the disrespect, if he were to say such a thing to the wrong man it would likely end with him shot in a duel.
Anthony did not answer his question instead continuing to scowl in his direction.
Edmund sighed, “Alright then, we’ll see if you’re more sorry after your punishment.” He gestured towards the desk and Anthony reluctantly lowered his trousers and bent himself over it. He picked up the strap.
“Victory is not trained enough to be safe to ride. I told you that and I expect you to mind me in such things. Taking him out in the field last night unaccompanied by any trainor, in the dark, with no one but your younger brother with you was the height of foolishness. That should have been evident when the horse threw you, but even that apparently did not teach you the lesson. You are unbelievably lucky that you did not break your neck, or break open your skull. Older and better horsemen than you have been killed riding horses foolishly, and I’ll be damned if I lose you to such a fate.”
With that Edmond brought the strap down hard on the prone backside. He could feel Anthony‘s body shudder from the impact through his hand but did not stay his other arm from delivering a second just as hard. As he had with Benedict he methodically moved from the top of his bottom to mid thigh before starting at the top again. By the time he was finished the boys backside was a sore looking Crimson and Anthony’s shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. Edmund rubbed his back gently until he had the cries under control and was able to stand up. To his surprise Anthony still looked far from sorry.
Though his eyes were red from crying they glared at his father.
“Are we done here?” He asked, in a shaky but firm voice.
Edmund looked at him incredulously. “We are not. You will take your place next to your brother in the corner, and hope that your attitude has improved by the time that I release you.”
Anthony had the nerve to snort at him as he reached down to pull up his pants and trousers. Edmund took a hold of his wrist and pulled the hand away.
“Anthony, you know what you are meant to do. You risked your neck, you risked the loss of an expensive horse from this household, you’ve created extra work for the groomsmen and the horse master, and scared us all quite badly. The household deserves to understand that justice has been delivered. Take your place next to your brother.”
“No.” Anthony said
“Pardon me?” asked Edmund, shocked.
“I said no!” Anthony replied, louder than the first time.
“I disobeyed you and you’ve beat me for it, that’s enough. I’m not gonna stand on display.” Anthony was breathing hard and Edmund could see Benedict peering wide eyed out of his own corner.
He kept silent for a moment, taking a deep calming breath. He didn’t know what had gotten into Anthony, but he intended to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime it was essential that Edmond kept his composure and did not meet his son in his place of anger. Instead he looked at him calmly.
“All right. If you’re not ready to go to the corner I suppose there’s no rush.” He pulled Anthony back over the desk before picking up the discarded strap. He kept his hand on Anthony’s back firmly as the boy began to struggle. He laid two strokes on the boy's bottom, a bit softer than he would normally, but he was certain that would not be appreciated, as sore as he already was.
Anthony had kept quiet during the full strapping, but possibly he was too surprised to do so now. He let out a yelp with each stroke, struggling against his father‘s grasp. Edmund let him stand back up.
“Now go stand in the corner next to your brother.” He could see tears in the boys’s eyes but Anthony was nothing if not stubborn.
His no was just as clear as before. Edmund resignedly pulled him back across the desk. This time the strap landed three strokes on the sore thighs and Anthony managed to keep quiet as each lash landed. Edmund allowed him to stand again and repeated the command to go to the corner
Anthony’s voice had a bit of a tremor at this time but the response was still clear. “No, I will not.”
Edmond nodded, resigned to going into full battle now.
“Benedict,” he called gently. His second born turned from the corner to look at him, eyes wide as saucers.
“You may go,” Edmund told him, keeping his voice calm and even. Benedict hesitantly pulled up his trousers and went towards the door, flashing concerned looks at both Anthony and his father before reluctantly going out of it.
“Anthony” Edmund said sternly. His son was clearly braced to go back over the desk, but instead Edmund leaned against it himself, crossing his arms and contemplating his oldest. He had no intention of beating his son bloody, but he wasn’t going to let Anthony dictate the terms of his punishment either. Whatever the boy might think about power struggles, Edmund was in charge and he would be obeyed.
After a moment of consideration Edmond pulled his heir around the other side of the desk, sitting in the chair and pulling Anthony down with him to lay across his lap. Anthony struggled to get free. When that didn’t work he started yelling.
“No, no! you can’t do this! Let me up! I’m too old!” He kicked and squirmed and had a full tantrum that would have impressed any two year old. Edmond kept his arm on his waist to keep him from falling off, but otherwise waited him out. Eventually Anthony tired and just laid still across Edmond’s lap.
Edmond addressed him then. “Good, I’m glad that you’ve gotten that out. Now let me explain something to you. You are not a grown man, you are fifteen years old, you are my son, and you are under my authority. If you disobey me you will be punished, and I expect you as a future gentleman and man of honor to accept your punishment and learn from it.”
Anthony did not respond, but Edmund didn’t need him to. He brought his hand down on the prone backside, tempering his slaps to make an impression while keeping in mind how sore his son already was. He peppered his cheeks with fast light slaps and began to lecture again.
“Do you have any idea what it would do to this household if you have been killed falling off of a horse? What it would do to your brother to witness such a thing, what it would do to your mother and I to lose you, the firstborn son that we love so dearly? You cannot be replaced Anthony. All life comes with risks, but to court them is unbelievably foolish. I do not place restrictions on you to hamper and smother you. The horse was not safe to ride as you saw first hand last night. Since that was not enough of a lesson to impart to you the importance of obeying me in matters of safety, I’m afraid I must impart the lesson this way.”
Edmond could see Anthony’s shoulders losing some of their tightly held defiance and he continued. “I do not enjoy chastising you this severely, but it is my responsibility and my deep desire to keep you safe. If I have to spank you every day to ensure that you will listen to me on matters of safety I will do so. Is that going to be necessary Anthony?” His son‘s shoulders had loosened completely, now shaking with sobs and he had to strain to hear Anthony‘s voice saying “No sir, I’m sorry.”
Edmund let out a relieved breath. That sounded like Anthony. He slowed his slaps and then stopped, again rubbing his son's back to help him calm down. When he had caught his breath Edmund tipped him back to his feet.
“Are you ready to go to the corner now?”
Anthony winced, the defiance gone. “Yes sir.”
“Good boy, you will stay there until I release you.”
“Yes sir.”
Edmund led him to the wall behind his desk, across from the doorway. Anyone walking down the hallway will be able to see him there. Edmond’s goal is not to humiliate his son, but actions have consequences. He returned to his desk and pulled out his correspondence so that he could pass the time with Anthony.
He made the boy stand there for a full hour, longer than he normally would, but he finally released him. All of the defiance and anger appeared to be gone as Anthony fixed his trousers. Edmund opened his arms and was relieved when Anthony fell into them. He enjoyed the embrace for a moment before breaking the silence.
“Do you care to tell me now what that was about?”
Anthony shrugged a little, unable to meet his father‘s eyes. “I don’t know, I was just angry I suppose. I was embarrassed that you wouldn’t let me ride Victory, He's a beautiful horse. I really thought I could do it.”
Edmund sighed. “You will, when the horse is done being trained. I wouldn’t ride him now either, it's not a mark against you or your skills.”
Anthony was silent for a long moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry I swore at you. I don’t know what came over me.”
Edmond gently rubbed the side of Anthony‘s face where the slap had landed. “It was quite a surprise to me as well. I hope it’s not going to happen again.”
“No sir.”
“Good. If it does you can expect the same, and a mouth soaping to follow it up, is that clear?”
“Yes sir, it won't happen again, I promise.”
“Do you still feel angry?” Edmund asked him curiously.
Anthony seemed to give the question serious thought. “No sir, not really. I understand it was foolish to ride the horses at night. It was very frightening when Victory threw me, but then I felt foolish and that just made me angrier.”
Edmund nodded. “That can happen. It’s important when it does to calm down before you do something even riskier.”
Anthony smiled at him wanly. “I will try to keep that in mind in the future.”
Edmund smiled back reassuringly. ‘Then I think we are done here. Perhaps you might find Benedict and assure him that I have not murdered you.”
Anthony sniffed a little against his chest, possibly with laughter or possibly just from residual tears.
“Yes father,” he said, getting up slowly. Edmund watched him walk out of the room, gait stiff but shoulders relaxed again.