Sir Robert sat alone in his private study sipping a brandy. Sara Ann had gone shopping for some special reason. The staff was very tight lipped when it came to his wife. They were very loyal to him, but it was different when it came to Sara.
She’d go into the kitchen and help cook and clean, she’d even found out the birth date of Cook, and had thrown her a surprise birthday party. She’d said that the woman reminded her of her grandmother. Lady Lane.
She was always saying please and thank you to the staff. Not to say that he didn’t respect the staff. It was just that she was the first regular type person to do such things. The others had became bitches overnight. Thank God, his Sara wasn’t like that. He had aunts and cousins that he avoided like the plague, they had so quickly forgotten where they’d come from, and had change so quickly.
Joe Macalister was just like his sister, never forgetting where he came from. When he wasn’t studying, he was working his butt off. This was not a requirement, he did it out of a sense of honor.
Joe had known of a certain section of land that needed clearing. He picked up an axe and set about clearing the land. He’d work until his hands bled, but he never once complained. The young man enjoyed hard work and was always on his own personal quest to belong in in an honorable way.
Yes. He’d married the perfect girl there was, her family were very honorable people. They were very true blue to what was right and of course they just so happen to be very country, and hillbilly type folks. That was his edge in this. Those before him had all found, and married the girls with the attitude that, they were more than deserving of the gift. That it was somehow their destiny to marry royalty.
He had no grand illusions, he was who he was only because of his birthright. He’d not sweated or worked for what was theirs, and he was the only family member that felt this way.
In his opinion certain other male members of the family should belong to the Asshole’s Club. A club where each member must be voted in, a club where they’re judged by the thickness of their wallets, and of course the shit in their hearts.
Their women should have the England Bitch Contest. He shook his head. “It’d never work, the call would be too close...they’re all first rate bitches.”
The older man smiled as he walked away from his son’s study. He knew his son’s thoughts as well as he knew his own. The boy had grown into a very fine man. They both hated snobs and refused to have anything to do with such people.
While other men of importance talked of their sons wanting to be powerful and men of great influence, Sir Robert always spoke of treating people with respect and as equals.
The older man sighed as he picked up the tray, and went about his duties. Yes. Sir Robert was his son, his son in heart mind, and by blood.
Lady Grace had come to him and had told him of the problem. They needed an heir, but that was impossible, since her husband was impotent. Dead-meat as she put it. He was perfect. The right height, coloring, and eye color.
He had his doubts as to the credibility of the story. He suspected that it was because, Sir Lyle was cruel to her in the bedroom. He’d hear her crying late at night and once he had consoled her.
She’d never told him what happened, and he could never really ask. He saw the bruises on her, and had wanted so badly to take a pound or so of flesh from the bastard. He restrained himself with great effort.
Sir Lyle had gone on one of his usual business trips if it had not been improper to do so, he’d have told him to fall in a privy pit. Again it took great effort to control his feelings.
Lady Grace came to him that night, and the next two nights. If any of the staff knew...it had never been mentioned. Nine months later she gave birth to Robert.
Close to the end of her pregnancy, Sir Lyle for whatever his reason started to put a beating to Lady Grace. It just wasn’t meant to happen.
Within a few short minutes he had the royal crap stomped out of him by his own personal servant. “Touch her again Sir, and I shall be forced to exterminate your sorry ass.”
Sir Lyle from that point on became the perfect husband. Never raising a hand to Lady Grace again, and certainly never to young Robert. From that point on he spoke very respectful to all the staff. Especially, to the servant that had stomped his ass so easily.
The boy always looked to him whenever he had a problem. It was as though he somehow knew that his father, was not what he pretended to be.
It had been him that the boy came to, when he’d wanted to learn to fight.
He’d been filled with PRIDE, when he learned that the boy had fought three boys who had insulted him. No father, could or should, ask for any more from a son. Love, honor and the deepest respect.
He gasped as he felt a sharp twinge in his chest.
Sir Robert just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was quite a gift that he had. If someone that he had a connection with was hurt or was in some kind of trouble, he always seemed to know.
He’d never felt a connection with Lyle. He supposed that he did love him in a way. But not the way that he loved Jeremiah. The man was more like a father to him, than Sir Lyle had ever been.
He’d taken note of the fact, that his father would always step very lightly around Jeremiah. He actually called him Sir, and would say thank you.
It was his father that had set up those tasks for him to do. It was so very
odd. His father was a skinny beady eyed man with a nose like a rat. His features were like his mother’s, but he had a build and coloring like...Jeremiah.
There was but one task left to him. He was to find the family’s darkest secret. The one secret that would forever haunt the Clary family.
Someone you care about is in trouble, get off your ass and do something, the voice in his mind commanded. He stood up quickly and rushed from the room.
He saw that Sara Ann had returned, and gave a smile of relief at the woman as she was sewing on some garment. He quickly went to check on his mother. He found her sitting in the guestroom reading a book. “Anything wrong dear?” she asked.
“I don’t know, I just have one of those feelings again.”
Lady Grace quickly stood up, and rushed to joined her son, she knew that his feelings were real. Her husband always scoffed, “When I was being mugged why didn’t the boy know it?”
Simple: he doesn’t care about you. There’s not a connection with you and Robert. “Perhaps he felt it but thought that you could handle it. You know how boys are with their fathers.”
“Yeah-right! We both know the real reason...”
Both parents had stopped the conversation when the young boy walked into the room. Young Robert got a book from the shelf and left the room. God, how he hated it when they fought.
“He got a goddamn western to read. What’s so wrong with the works of Shakespeare? Next thing you know, he’ll be fist-fighting and drinking beer.” she quickly shook away the old memories.
Sir Robert and his mother rushed from room to room, and finally found Jeremiah on the floor. Robert gave a cry of protest as he rushed to the man’s side. “No, goddamnit no! Come on Jerry, open your eyes!” Robert shouted as his eyes filled with tears.
The old man slowly opened his eyes, and smiled at the young man. “I guess I’m getting too old...for this work. I guess it’s time for me to...”
“You’re not going anywhere but to the hospital, then back here where I can take care of you.” Sir Robert said as his eyes filled with more tears. “Somebody call for help now! Now Goddamnit!”
His mother quickly crossed herself, as her own tears came.
The older man smiled, and nodded his head. “You’re a good man Robert. Any man should be proud to call you his son...”
The light in the man’s eyes was not as bright, as Robert thought it should be. But the look in the old man’s eyes was not lost on Robert. PRIDE.
“Where the hell is the help!” he shouted angrily as he looked up anxiously to see if anybody was coming to help.
His mother’s soft sobbing reached his ears, as he realized that his oldest friend was gone. He checked and rechecked hoping that there was some signs of life. None. He slowly threw his head back, and cried out in uncontrollable anguish.
Sara Ann rushed to her husband’s side, and watched as he removed his coat and covered the man’s face. She slowly stepped to one side as her husband turned, and glared into the face of his father.
“Son I’m truly sorry...” his father replied trying to hide his true feelings.
“Shut The Fuck Up!” Robert shouted, as he closed his hands into large tight fists. “I’m sick of hearing your voice. Always so condescending.” If only he’d followed his heart then...
“Robert you can either respect me, or you can fear me.”
“I don’t fear toads. You can either get out of my way, or you can go through the last seconds, of your wretched life wishing to Christ you fucking had.”
The smaller man quickly stepped aside, and watched as the larger man left the room. The medical technician team quickly entered the castle and followed the young maid to the room where Jeremiah lay.
Robert knew that his life was about to change drastically. He just didn’t care about the money or his title, nor, had he ever really cared about such things.
His father was probably already on the damn phone, calling the families lawyers to have him removed. To have him stripped of his title.
He walked into his bedroom and walked over to look out the large window. In his mind’s eye, he saw the grounds change and he saw a younger Jeremiah playing with the boy. The boy he used to be. His father was either in his study, or in some other room screwing his favorite maid.
He could hear the boy’s laughter, and the deeper laugh of the man. The boy looked up at him, and he could see that the boy had a black eye. “Jeremiah. I wish you were my dad. You listen to me, I mean really listen. You’re never too busy for me. I love you.”
“I love you too son...but your father does have some good qualities too.” the older man said gently.
“Yeah, he goes away, maybe someday, he’ll wise up and just stay gone.” the younger Robert said bitterly.
“Jerry. You never said anything bad against Lyle. You even tried to defend him in your own way, even when he was at his worst. I saw how you’d watch over me and my mother...” Robert gave a sly smile. “I know the family secret now Father...or do I just know part of it?”
“I just got off the phone from the hospital...a Jerry Carter, has had a massive heart-attack.”
“Been expecting that for some time. Ole Jerry. He was one of the best agents we ever had. They say he went sour, but only me and a few others knew the truth. He stayed on to watch over the woman and her son.”
“He was dirty and he left the agency to become a butler for some rich asshole.” the young agent replied arrogantly.
“How old are you son?”
“Only after you’ve grown up, will you have enough experience to ever sit in any judgment. You’ll not speak of my friend in such a manner. To ever do so again is a sure fire way of getting your ass kicked.”
“But, I’ve read the file on this agent, all the information states that he was dirty.”
“Yes. It does, and that’s how he’ll be remembered, but he was the cleanest agent I’ve ever met. But he was also very human, he was getting close to the truth on Clary’s partners. But-he fell in love with Clary’s wife.”
“He...he forgot his objective then?” the young agent replied changing his thoughts in midstream.
“The woman was and is still very attractive. Clary was an abusive man, and he’d beaten the woman on several occasions. She turned to Jerry, in a moment of despair, and they fell in love. Sir Robert is Jerry’s son.”
The young agent, stared at the SAC for a full minute before speaking. “He stayed to protect the woman and His Son.”
“Yes. He could not and would not leave the boy, he continued on feeding us information, but at the same time protecting the child. We got several of Clary’s partners, but somebody was really watching over Lyle. The case was unofficially closed.”
“I’m just asking a question, so don’t go psycho on me. Is it possible that Jerry could have been the one?”
“Oh-it’s possible, it’s very possible, but we knew who the traitor was and took care of that person. Jerry retired. Sort of.”
“So, your friend is branded dirty, and you do nothing to correct it.” the young agent snapped back. “You jump down my throat about me dishonoring your friend, but you refuse to clear his name! Talk about a fucking hypocrite!”
The older agent smiled.
“I blew it, didn’t I?” the young agent replied with a smile.
“We already knew son, you just more or less confirmed it.”
“I was told so many stories. Now, I know the truth and I can’t do a goddamn thing about it.”
“You have to believe me when I say, he didn’t know about you.” The SAC said with a slight shake of his head.
“I know, my mother had told me that much. The big question is this, what are you going to do, now that you know who I am?”
“You’ve played it straight and clean, and you’re a good agent, without any reprimands...” the SAC smiled at the son of his friend. “Let’s just say that this conversation never took place.”
“What about my brother?”
“That’s your call. Hey, as long as you don’t step too far over the line, we’ll all be safe. But remember this Frank, this isn’t the boy scouts, but neither are we killers for hire. Officially, we don’t even exist. You can’t draw any attention to us. We can only cover the tracks of an agent, just so far.”
“I have no plans to go on some killing spree, but there’s much more to all this...I can just fucking feel it.” the young agent said as he stood up, and walked to the door. “this with Macalister is just the tip of the iceberg.”
The SAC smiled as the young man left, “You’ve got your father’s instincts. Now, let’s see if you’ve got his heart.”
The SAC silently thought of the agents in England, those that were posing as servants in the Clary castle. Those that had sworn an oath to Protect and Serve their country. The team of Group Two.