Burn (Barlyle) (COMPLETE)

39

Barnum stormed downstairs as Mr. Carlyle stormed into the house. They met at the landing and Barnum blocked off the stairway from the shorter, skinnier man.

He didn't know where Charity and the girls were. Somewhere safe and hiding, he prayed.

"Where is my son?" Mr. Carlyle seethed. He tried to peer over Barnum's shoulder, up the stairway.

"I believe that is none of your concern," Barnum spoke evenly enough. He looked the man dead in the eye.

Mr. Carlyle reddened. Beside him, his wife quivered on his arm. "I want to see my son! I know he's here somewhere!"

"Your son is a grown man. He may see you if he pleases, but there is nothing you can do about it if he doesn't."

"You have no right to hide him from me!" Mr. Carlyle screamed. "I'll have you arrested for - for—"

"For what, Mr. Carlyle?"

"For...indecent acts! For homosexuality! For dragging my son down into your third-class filth!"

Barnum scoffed. He gestured around his mansion with his arms.

"Look around, sir. Does this look like third-class to you?"

Mr. Carlyle opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. His silent wife buried her face in his shoulder.

"There is nothing connecting me to having homosexual relations with your son in any way, Mr. Carlyle."

"Lies! That crowd outside—"

"Was formed by people who have hated my show since the beginning. They are people who would stoop to the lowest levels - including rumors of homosexual affairs, mind you - in order to run my show to the ground." Barnum scoffed again and glanced out the window. "By the looks of that crowd, I'd say quite a few have fallen for their lies. But you, sir, you're not that gullible, are you? You have no business being here."

"I demand to see my son—"

"You have no business being here," Barnum repeated, spitting the words between his teeth, "and if you don't leave now, I'll notify the authorities and have you arrested for trespassing on my 'third-class property.' Along with all those other fools outside."

"You wouldn't."

"Do I look like I'm joking, Mr. Carlyle?" Barnum quirked an eyebrow.

Mr. Carlyle glowered at him. He shot one final look upstairs before turning away, mumbling under his breath. Next to him, his wife wept quietly to herself.

Barnum took a deep breath. After Mr. Carlyle left, he started down the hall - only stopping when he heard a door creak open. Charity poked her head out.

"Is everything all right? Where are you going?" she asked.

"It's all right. Mr. Carlyle is gone now."

"Where are you going?" she repeated. One of his daughters peeked through the cracked door, but she gently pushed her back.

"My office. I've got a call to make."

Telephones were invented in 1876 and since the general consensus is that this film takes place post-Civil War, around the 1870s or so, anyway, I thought I could squeak by with just a little bit of history-bending. :)

ALSO: I have a NEW BARLYLE FIC! It's cowritten with one of my fandom friends and it's called Hang Up Your Coat. Check it out on my profile!