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Prologue
The future Earl Brian studied his father, Henry, with frustration that turned into irritability. He tried his best to understand his methods without having to question them. Asking questions often made him feel stupid. But sometimes they were important and needed to be asked. Even if it made him uncomfortable to do so.
“Father, why on earth do you insist on me spending the summer at our country estate. I have been trying to understand it but have not found a single reason as to how it makes sense.”
He waited for his father’s response which took its time to come out. Within that time, the regret filled Brian’s heart. He had felt like he had lost a battle with himself, which was the worst kind of battle to lose.
He wished that he could have blamed his father for creating that stigma in his mind. The one that made him dislike himself. Or perhaps it was Brian’s own fault, he was not sure. Either way, he wished that he could void himself of those insecure thoughts.
He remembered when his father had first explained to him that that’s how it would be. There was no waver in his tone, no room for a question or anything of the sort. That’s how it would be, and there would be no way around it. Brian was used to that sentiment as that’s how many things went between him and his father.
“Because it would be good to reacquaint yourself with the neighbourhood. In my time of living, one thing that I have learned is that there is a great benefit to remember your roots and where your upbringing took place. There are many lessons that should not be forgotten in that short period of life.”
Brian reflected on that but could not recall a single lesson from his upbringing. All he could remember was heartache and tragedy. That wasn’t his father’s fault in the slightest, but he did wonder if his father meant the words that he was spewing.
Self-awareness was not lost on Brian. As a matter of fact, that was one of his better traits. He knew himself better than most people knew him. And his behaviour in the past years had not been ideal. His father had known that as well.
Deciding whether or not his father’s words were a veiled reference to that or not was not easily deciphered. On the one hand, having him stay on the estate could have been a means to calm his behaviour. Or, on the other hand, his father could have been telling the truth in trying to make him remember where he came from.
“You are quiet,” his father added. “I take it that my words mean nothing to you?”
“It is not that they mean nothing, Father. I just have a hard time believing that they come from an honest place.”
His father let out a chuckle, seemingly unmoved by the forwardness in his son’s response. “A man is only quick to accuse when his own heart isn’t pure. Why would you suggest that my words are anything but truthful with you, son? I want nothing but the best. And the best takes patience, remembrance, a look at one’s own self. You don’t often do that. All you do is living in the present with no regard for the future and no respect for the past. Have you not learned anything?”
There was the frustration in his father’s words that he had expected before, but which had arrived late. Brian could not have disagreed more with his father. They were different men. Brian didn’t respect the past because it had done nothing but hurt him. And the future, that was not guaranteed. Ironically, his views on the future were spawned from his past. It was one trait that he never wished to steal from his father.
His father did everything except live in the present. He languished in studying the past as though it were still breathing. He planned for the future while never paying attention to what was before him. Living like that sickened Brian. He was proud of his ability to enjoy his life to the fullest. Being on the estate would not help in that cause.
“Father, I think that you want me on the estate because of the society papers hinting at my rakish behaviour more than anything else. And I think that’s folly. The papers do nothing but exaggerate everything.”
“Son, exaggeration always comes from somewhere, and half the time, the exaggerated offence is no less heinous. It is time that you take responsibility for yourself. No one else is going to.”
His father’s words had made him feel somewhat alone, as though he was no longer his father’s little boy anymore. Brian could not tell what felt worse, feeling that way, or realising the truth in his father’s words.
“Then what do you expect of me, father? Live out my days in an ordinary, predictable life? I could get that experience just by looking at the apple salesman outside. Or I could read a book and get much the same. There is no thrill in that for me. I enjoy exploring. I enjoy the unpredictable. It makes me feel alive. I don’t want to know what comes next. That is the death of experience.”
Once again, his father let a pause sit between them. He was hard to read, even after a lifetime of knowing him. His father’s thoughts were in the level of unpredictability that Brian wanted to live in.
“Is that what you think?” his father asked. There had never been a set of five words that ever felt more loaded.
“Yes. That is what I think. It is hard to just follow in your footsteps and plan out my entire life the way you do. It takes the fun out of everything.”
His father sent his eyes to his son from the papers before him. “Brian. I admire that you are able to see life in a positive light, even after what has happened in yours. But the truth is, life is filled with pain and sorrow. You cannot avoid it. You cannot minimise it. And one day, if you don’t plan correctly, you will be overwhelmed with all the hardships that have piled up on your shoulders. Life is to be enjoyed the same way that a soldier enjoys war. There will always be moments in between gunfire where he can smell a flower, write a letter to his lover, bask in the beauty of the sky. But the war itself does not end until his life does if he’s lucky. If you’re not careful, Brian, the wounds will build up.”
Brian had heard that story once before and had since tried to forget it. It was one of those analogies that his father loved to tell over and over as if it assured him that he was living his own life in the right way. Brian would never tell him such a thing. Instead, he listened to the story as many times as he’d tell it.
“So again, then what it is that you are suggesting for me, Father? I am a grown man. I am able to deal with the truth no matter the annoyance it may bring with it.”
His father pursed his lips and gave him an unflinching stare. “Perhaps you should return to town with a wife—one of the girls you used to play with. If you are the man that you say you have grown into, then it is about time that enabled some structure in your life. Wives are good anchors. An anchor is what you need.”
Brian thought back to three girls that were chasing after himself and his two friends. But he did not want to settle for that. That would be giving in to his father’s advice. For whatever reason, doing that did not sit well with his pride. And he wasn’t sure whether or not he was ready for that type of commitment.
Taking a wife was not like pouring oneself a drink. You did not just walk away from it when you were finished. There was no being finished with a wife. A wife was a full-time job, someone that you needed to dedicate yourself to, through and through. Did Brian have that within him? It surely did not seem so.
It was an ability that his father had been good at. Taking a wife was a part of life that his father had been born to do. It had structure, predictability, and routine. All the elements that Henry wanted his son to indulge in. They were also all the elements that Brian felt to be boring, suffocating, and depriving of life. Where was the fun in waking up next to the same person every day?
Where was the fun in having to answer to someone after years of growing up with strict parents who required much the same? When was Brian allowed to be free of expectation and responsibility? The moment that Brian became old enough to enjoy life, his father expected more rituals and discipline from him. How was that at all fair? It was not.
