The Earl's Keeper

Two - Drama

William slouched over his desk.

He had retired to his study and swiftly found comfort in his father's revered port. He'd emptied a whole bottle and then some. Inebriated was an understatement. He was beyond wasted as a fully functioning human being.

There was the sound of a handle turning and his head looked up in time to see a shadow slip in.

"My lord, is that you?" A feminine voice sounded.

Oh god, he groaned internally, trying to jostle his sluggish mind into working. Not her.

"It's me, Jeanine,"

Yes, I know, he thought grimly. He knew who Jeanine was. She needn't introduce herself. The whole ton knew Jeanine. Namely every man eligible to bed - and even those not. She was a seductress with a long list of names collected beneath her gown like a notch to every rakes belt. She lived in the estate next to his, with her family the Du'Val's. Socialites that had a good standing amongst the elite of the ton. The rest of the brood weren't all that bad. They had grown up together and played as children.  Though the Lady has taken an odd turn during her early teen years. Whereupon she discovered her growing beauty, and men.

She'd recently begun turning her attentions to him. It was not uncommon news that his father had been gravely ill. Nor was it uncommon news that he would be inheriting the earldom. What was uncommon however, was the fact a ruined woman like her could possibly think his hand in marriage would extend to her. Now, he wasn't at all pure and holy like a virtuous nuns chastity. Far from it. But as a man, he was redeemable. His own father would rise from the grave before he let Jeanine Du'Val inherit the title that had been in his family for decades.

In truth, Jeanine Du'Val had been aiming to bed him. Her plan was to be with child in order to ensnare him. Yes, her plan would work, of that, she was sure. He would not be able to dismiss her as easily as one of lower station. To raise his bastard child. No, he would wed her, within the day. She smiled down, her rouge painted lips curling wickedly at his drunken state. This was perfect.

"Come, my lord, let us get you to bed where you may rest properly, of which I can be of service to relax you."

She knew of his father's death, yet that was not her concern. Her sole aim fuelled her tiny body to haul him upwards. He groaned with the effort and tried to push her away. She tsk'd and clucked her tongue.

"Do not be childish with me, let us hurry, my lord." How long he would stay drunk was anyone's wonder. She had never managed to gain his attentions before. No matter how much she favoured him at social events and upon private calls. She must act fast, she thought.

William moved his body, without thinking as to where he was going. It briefly occurred to him that the person who his arm was slung over was not terribly strong. Supporting his own weight, he trudged on.

The stairs were a magnificent challenge. It saw the duo tripping over skirts and tumbling over his drunkenness more often than none.

All the while, Mia watched their progress from the third floor landing. They laboured very torturously slow, upwards. She rested her arms on the banister as she watched them struggle. Sheer amusement rippling through her at the wenches antics.

As the countess, her bedchamber was adjoined to the Earl's. She knew he had taken to a drunken stupor in his study, and it didn't bother her in the least. Grief was dealt with differently by all. If liquor was his release, she was not the one to deny him so. What did bother her, however, was watching the talk of the town, the lady harlot, dragging her husband of renowned title, towards his chambers. Her intent writes as clear as day. As if stamped on her forehead: whore.