My Dearest Josephine

1: Beginnings

The impatient knocks on the door echoed throughout the estate and awoke Ezra. He rolled over onto his back and let out a lengthy yawn. Why hasn't that rotten footman opened the door yet? It seemed like he was the one who would have to answer it! The madness of it all. Looking down, he realized that he was only in his nightshirt. He walked lethargically over to a chair, his shoulders slumped, and took his frock coat, which he decided would be enough to cover up. His fingers could only manage to button the top button before he paused to yawn again. The knocking grew more desperate than ever. Ezra pursed his lips in annoyance.

"If this is my father, mark my bloody words, he will be very sorry for disturbing my slumber." Ezra muttered to no one in particular. He had only gone down three steps before stopping to yawn again. The knocking startled him so much that he clung to the railing and yelped at the unexpected sound.

Now he was awake.

"I'm coming, blast it!"

As he approached the door, he saw the footman and the butler arguing with each other, each insisting that their choice was the most intelligent.

"George!" Ezra bellowed the footman's name. The man was about a foot taller than Ezra, but he was still intimidated by his employer. 

"Y-Yes? Lord-" George stuttered.

"Damnation, George!" Ezra was a fairly calm man, but insufficient sleep could turn anyone's behavior ugly. "I pay you twenty pounds a year and you can't even manage to open a blasted door?"

George uneasily twisted the cloth in his hand, passing it from hand to the other."L-Lord Tayler, I fancy that man out there is a bedlamite. For your safety-"

"He does look delirious," Percival, the butler, agreed. "However, I told the nugatory man to just do-"

"What the hell?" Ezra whispered, ignoring them both. He rubbed his eyes to check if his vision was failing.

As long as Ezra had known Derek, he had never showed up unannounced, unless it was an absolute emergency. Knowing this, he felt a pang of worry when he saw his friend shaking visibly on the other side of the window.

Derek's eyes shot up at the sound of the doorknob turning. "Ezra," his voice cracked. "I'm being punished, Ezra! God, I'm a fool!"

George and Percival were shooed away by Ezra, whose attention was solely on Derek. "Relax mate," he said, though he felt just as stressed as he was. "Come on now! Just speak to me. Alright? What's happened with you? Why are you shaking so much?"

"I've really done it this time." he responded, desultory, and unaware that Ezra had even spoken.

"What? For God's sake, pull yourself together!" Ezra received no response. "Derek? Talk to me. You came here to talk, didn't you? You've got to make some sense; help me out!"

No answer.

"Let me get your coat." Ezra nodded.

Derek only shook his head.. "She'll never come back," was what he said. "Never will..." His train of thought had drifted off; he lifted his arm to knock on the door, only to find that the door had already been opened.

She! It was all clear to him now. Derek, but you're not the fool. I am! Ezra wanted to say. If it's 'she' you're talking about, then something must have happened with you and-

"Josephine!" Derek cried out, possibly awaking all the inhabitants of England. He couldn't stand to see him like this, so grief stricken and almost even bereaved.