The Lord had not been far from Kerr\'s thoughts since the night of the ball. Even though he\'d woken up the next morning with the worst hangover he\'d ever had and could barely remember his own name, he could remember every detail of what had occurred in that cellar (he thought) and how wonderful it had been. Even days later, thinking on it caused a wanting throb in his loins and he\'d fallen asleep using his own hand over it every night since.
The letter was something altogether different, though. He\'d expected an invitation of some sort to repay the favour owed but nothing like this; a social call would have sufficed, he believed, but this... it was life-altering. Living in that gargantuan castle, managing the land, being responsible for filling it with beasts and crops, ensuring all were maintained and flourished? It was something he\'d been trained to do on his parents\' land, the understanding that he would take over where his father left off when he was too old to work any more unspoken but undeniable.
Working elsewhere had never entered any of their heads and it caused quite the uproar around the dinner table when Kerr broached it. Donahue was indignant and blustered that it wouldn\'t happen, that no amount of money could replace a man's son, nor train outsiders to appreciate land that was in the blood of his offspring. Bridget was more torn for she recognised the benefit to her son - his station and esteem would surely rise, should he be associated with a lord, and he would have his pick of wives in the region then - and to her husband - four hands were better than two and for no coin out of their own pockets, they'd surely find reliable help.
Kerr himself was uncertain. He loved his parents, respected them, had never thought of going anywhere but this property (well, perhaps to another portion of it, when he took a wife and they needed their own house to fill with children). Still, the more his father said it wouldn't happen, the more he thought he'd like to at least try it and see... see if he was half the farmer his father was, see if he could create from scratch what he was used to having here, see what it would be like to be his own man, rather than their son. It had to happen sooner or later and now felt right, with this offer far exceeding anything anyone else in the region would be able to come up with, and twice the opportunity to go with the money.
Still, he hesitated, unsure because of how they'd spent their first night getting acquainted. Ben was charming, worldly, fascinating. Yet he'd indulged Kerr's lust and invoked a returned favour... would that sort of thing become a regular occurrence between them? If he lived in the same residence, it would be all too easy and Kerr's youthful libido was eager for it, but his indoctrinated soul was horrified by the thought. His parents would disown him if they found out what he'd already done with Ben - they'd just about made him walk outside the carriage on the night, when he'd finally found them again (after filling his stomach with food from the buffet tables in an effort to soak up some of the potent wine) and was so obviously drunk. He might be their only child, but they wouldn't tolerate any deviance from their expectations of him.
By the time Friday rolled around, there'd been numerous family 'discussions' about what Kerr would choose to do and, as far as his parents knew, he was riding off on his large roan horse (in the same finery he'd bought for the ball, since he owned nothing else worthy of visiting a lord in) to accept the offer. Kerr wasn't certain that he would, though, for his stomach was filled with good and evil butterflies and he was going to play it by ear. Once he'd had a frank discussion with Ben about expectations, he'd know if it was right for him or not. Yes, best to keep an open mind.
His heart was hammering fit to strangle him from his throat by the time he'd tied up his horse and walked up to the enormous door of the castle to knock. Nervously, he kept adjusting his clothing, fiddling with the handkerchief in his pocket, digging at the collar about his neck. The night was fresh with the promise of rain but still he found it difficult to breathe, his every step uncertain as he faced this challenge alone. His knock was loud enough to raise the dead and he winced as the sound of it died away inside the cavernous house. Perhaps he could do with a little calming down.
