Fic - Downton Abbey - "The Fox Hunt" - part 4

[rapfic]

It was unnerving, the maddening sensation that something was at the edge of a cliff in his mind. The very last thing he wanted was to leave the house and go traipsing around the woods but he was aware that his absence would be noted. Matthew paced around his room. Something was wrong, he was certain of that, and he was certain it had to do with the missing time.

It wasn’t all missing, of course. He remembered getting yelled at for dropping things, and getting struck for it, and being sent to scrub floors while the other servants ate and mocked him for being stupid and incompetent. He was always being struck and punished for something. The problem was that the more himself he felt, the more he saw those memories in a more realistic light. He hadn’t been terrible at being a footman, he had been constantly getting tripped and shoved and poked by the other servants. They had all been in on it, he realized that. Just like he realized that that the master of the house, who had often taken his side in the many petty disputes had really been teasing him and encouraging the servants to abuse him.

He also realized that he had shamed himself by submitting to guests, and worse, to the fox hunt. No matter that he hadn’t known where that was going. On good days, he could simply blot it out and not remember it. There had been more good days than bad since his return to Downton and that was a blessing. He could go days without thinking of that time. Now though, it seemed to be the only thing he could think of. He knew what it was. He’d felt it before, except that he didn’t normally dread the end moment. The feeling was of being on a cliff and that something was tickling his memory. This time, he didn’t want to know. If he knew, then he had to deal with it and there was no way to handle it that didn’t bring shame down on the family. It was just… if there was a curse to memories, it was that they came unbidden and couldn’t be shut out.

He knew the Duke of Crowborough. He knew the valet, Hightower. He knew why they were mocking him. To them, he was John Fox, the daft footman that they had delighted in taunting. It was the Duke that had come up with the last name Fox. He hadn’t even realized that they were being cruel, he had just gone along because he’d been so clueless. He had even thought the Duke kind for occasionally stopping some of Hightower’s crueler punishments. That last night… He realized he’d been shoved from behind when he dropped the evening dinner tray, that it had all been a pretense just so Hightower could haul him to the barn and whip him. Then they had led him to the woods and made him run. There had been six men chasing him, he knew he hadn’t had a chance to get away. At the end, after everyone had taken their turn with him, Hightower had wanted to kill him but the Duke had told him no, that the pretty little fox knew when he was getting a favor.

At the time, he’d been pathetically grateful, to not be killed for breaking a dish, just brutalized and left for dead. Now, now he felt insanely angry and sick to his stomach, and horrified that he’d stepped off the cliff of his memories into a terrible abyss. He sat on the edge of his bed and clenched his hands into fists. There was nothing he could do or say to change it, and worse, if he tried to demand justice, he would bring down ruin on his family.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said softly. He assumed it was Bates, coming fetch him for the hunt. He stood as the door opened, but much to his surprise, it was Charles Blake. Mary’s friend. He was clever, Matthew understood why Mary thought they would get along. Under different circumstances, he would have agreed with her. Now though, with the events of the time at the Duke of Crowborough’s estate flooding his brain, it was the last thing he needed or wanted. Partly because Blake pushed him back up on that cliff in his mind

“I was hoping I could have a word with you, Matthew,” Blake said. He closed the door. “I have a confession to make to you.”

The memory came unbidden. “I know you,” Matthew said shakily. “You were at the estate for one of the parties. I… I had to act as your valet because you didn’t have one. And….” He sat down on the bed. “You were the one that let me sleep on the floor.” It had been a rarity, one of the guests being anything other than demanding and harsh. He’d been sent up to provide entertainment and Charles Blake had been shocked at the idea, and angry that if he returned to the servant’s hall early, that he’d simply be sent to another guest’s room. Blake had let him sleep on the floor of the bedroom rather than subject him to that, and insisted on that arrangement for the duration of the party. It had been a few days of relief. “I should thank you…”

“No you shouldn’t.” Blake took a seat across from him. “I came to see you, to apologize for being the worst sort of hypocrite. I was at that estate, and I realized very quickly that His Grace the Duke of Crowborough had tastes that I didn’t share. I also realized that while most of his servants were like minded, he was taking far too much delight in harassing a footman with an obvious head injury and a high born accent. “The man sighed heavily. “I didn’t realize until that evening that you weren’t…”

“To be blunt…”Matthew said hesitantly, his face burning with shame, “that never stopped anyone else, which is why I am thanking you.” He let his head fall into his hands.

“You shouldn’t thank me for being a coward. I don’t deserve your thanks, because even though I didn’t know who you were, I knew something was wrong with you and that the Duke of Crowborough took far too much pleasure in taunting you.” Blake hesitated. “I should have taken you from that house, because I knew you were being abused, and I didn’t because I was afraid that my secret would be revealed. That I prefer men.”

“But…. Mary thought you liked her. That you were going to pursue her.” It was stupid but it moved the talk away from the unpleasantness.

Blake nodded. “I do like Mary, and had she remained a widow, I was considering pursuing her because… She already had a child so she wouldn’t expect much from a husband and I thought perhaps some of her reluctance to marry was because she was a fellow traveler. When you’re a man like me, you have to accept what society demands, that you marry and have children. It’s better if you can find a woman who is like minded. You don’t have to lie as much.” He waited a long moment. “I was faced with a moral choice and I failed you. Within hours of entering that house, I knew the Duke was a sadistic vile man, and I said and did nothing because I feared for my reputation. Not only did I leave you to be further harmed, I realize now how deeply I wounded Mary. I see her now, with you, and I realize how desperately unhappy she was without you. I owe you both a duty because if I had been a brave man instead of a coward, I would have taken you from that house, and someone would have recognized you that much sooner and the two of you would have been reunited that much sooner.”

“I… I don’t know what you think you could have done.” Matthew wrung his hands. “You weren’t the first guest I was sent to…” It was ugly to think about, the floodgate open and undammed at last. He felt sick.

“No, but if I had been a brave man instead of a coward, I would have been the last, and you wouldn’t have been put in the fox hunt.” Blake said.

“I thought… I thought they were going to kill me,” Matthew said, feeling oddly breathless. “I was… grateful they didn’t…” Worse, he’d been somehow ashamed, that he had failed at pleasing his grace. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t go near any estates because… I thought I was so terrible at everything, another job in service would just be as humiliating.” He took a deep breath. “I won’t tell your secret. When I remembered you, I remembered you as the nice guest. And we hadn’t met so you couldn’t have known who I was…”

“I appreciate that, especially since by rights you have every reason to not be that generous, but that’s not why I came to talk to you.” Blake took his hand and held it. “The Duke of Crowborough brought himself here to this party to see if you did or didn’t remember him. He’s certain you do remember him and along with meanly taunting you about it, he plans to arrange for you to have an accident on the shoot. So that you can’t reveal that he’s a homosexual and a sadistic monster besides.”

“But… why would I tell anyone? I can’t tell anyone this. I wouldn’t even be a man in their eyes.” He struggled to maintain some semblance of calm. “Mary would be disgusted with me. She would hate what I have become.”

“Oh Matthew…. “Somehow Blake managed to sound amused. “Would you ever willingly be with a man again? Where you chose it?”

“No! I didn’t… I couldn’t…” He wiped his eyes. “No. It was awful. It hurt. It hurt so much… I could never….”

“So you haven’t become anything,” Blake said gently. “You’re still a man who prefers women. And Mary is so much in love with you that I am sure her reaction to this would be to vow blood vengeance on the Duke.”

Matthew stood up. “Excuse me,” he said. Then he strode into the bathroom and began vomiting.
~*~

Bates, like everyone else in the servants hall, jumped to his feet when Lady Mary entered the servants. “Don’t get up,” she said in a perfunctory manner, and went right to Carson. “Carson, was there anything new or unusual in the breakfast menu this morning?”

“No, milady, why do you ask?” Carson said easily.

“Matthew is quite violently ill. Mr. Blake found him in his room, retching uncontrollably. Dr. Clarkson wanted to rule out some sort of allergic reaction to something new.” She waited a moment and then asked. “I hope there haven’t been any reports of illness from the other guests?”

Carson made a point of looking horrified. “Of course not, Lady Mary.”

“Then it likely wasn’t the food,” Mary said worriedly.

Bates stood up. It was as ideal a moment as any, and it put off the unpleasant talk with Lord Grantham for a bit. “If I may, Lady Mary…. Mr. Crawley looked a bit peaked last night and this morning. I asked him if he was well, and he said he didn’t want to make a fuss, what with the whole weekend party.”

“And instead creates more of a fuss,” Mary added tiredly. “The way men usually do.” That set the maids tittering in agreement. “Carson please have some hot tea sent to his room. I’ll need to let Papa know that Matthew isn’t running around the woods shooting at birds when he can’t keep his breakfast down.” With that, she left the servants hall.

“I wonder what Mr. Blake was doing in Mr. Crawley’s room?” Hightower said as the servants began to chatter again. Bates wasn’t surprised to see Thomas raise his eyebrow at that, which meant it was time scotch any unpleasantness.

“Books,” Bates said to Hightower. “Mr. Crawley and Mr. Blake both read a great deal. Mr. Crawley mentioned he was going to loan Mr. Blake a book by that American writer, Jack London. The Scarlet Plague, I believe.” At the very least, that was the book sitting on the nightstand in Matthew’s room.

“I would have thought Lord Byron’s sonnets, considering their mutual tastes,” Hightower said, smirking. He stood up. “The hunt begins soon. His grace will be most disappointed to hear Mr. Crawley isn’t going to attend the shooting.”

I’m sure, Bates thought darkly. He waited so it didn’t seem suspicious, and then cornered Thomas in the butler’s pantry. “What was Hightower alluding to?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I shouldn’t tell you, because it’s not my secret to tell, but I will. Lord Gillingham was interested in Lady Mary because he wanted a pretty wellborn wife who would have children. Mr. Blake was interested in Lady Mary because he wanted a pretty wellborn wife who wouldn’t want him to bother her much in the bedroom… as he’s not very interested in that pursuit. Does that help?”

“You mean Blake is a….” Bates blinked and let it internalize.

“Yes, and a guess, just a guess, is that he might have never realized that he met Mr. Crawley before this weekend. And Mr. Crawley remembers things better when he’s around things that remind him of the past. And when it’s an upsetting memory, like last night at the dinner table, he can look quite ill. My thought? If Mr. Crawley didn’t know what happened to him during that missing time before now, he’s probably figured it out now.” Thomas shrugged. “At least you can wait on telling Lord Grantham. “

“But Blake…. Didn’t strike me as the nasty sort.” In fact, he’d rather thought that Charles Blake was too nice a fellow to consider courting Mary Crawley. Tony Gillingham at least seemed willing to fight back.

“Need I remind you that Mr. Crawley can claim to be a victim and would still be tarnished. He at least would escape being arrested. Anyone he accuses would not. Mr. Blake was probably begging him to not tell…”

“Begging him not to tell what?” Both men jumped. It was Lady Mary and her eyes were flashing in rage. “I came back down to see about the tea.” She closed the door to the butler’s pantry. “What do you think Mr. Blake was begging Matthew not to tell? And don’t lie, or pretend this is something so distasteful that a mere woman isn’t to know.”

Bates sighed. “Please understand Mr. Barrow and I were planning to speak to your father today about what we’ve discovered.”

“And what have you discovered?” Mary snapped.

Thomas smirked. “Nothing that you’ll like hearing, milady.”

“I’ll explain, Mr. Barrow. Why don’t you find something to do?” He glared until Thomas stepped out and closed the door. “He is right, my lady. You won’t like it. It concerns… Mr. Crawley and the unpleasant scars on his back.”

If it was possible for someone’s eyes to actually flame in rage, Mary Crawley managed it. “It was Charles?”

“No, my lady. If anything I doubt he had anything to do with it.” He hesitated. “Lady Mary, did you know Mr. Blake was… a homosexual?”

Her eyes widened. “No, Mr. Bates, I did not. That is certainly not something he shared with me or that I suspected. What on earth would that have to do with Matthew?”

“I’m unsure. I think Mr. Crawley, in his… time away, discovered that fact, and Mr. Blake sought him out this morning to ask him to not tell his secret. Thomas is being nasty as is his tendency.” Bates wasn’t sure where to start. “Did you know the Duke of Crowborough was also a homosexual?”

“I know he’s a cold, small minded man who enjoys being petty with his power, but no, I did not know he is a homosexual.” She waited a long moment. “He has an estate. An isolated estate where he can do whatever he pleases and he’s never been one to care about the rights of servants.” Her eyes flared again. “He might not have directly met Matthew but I know we went to a few social events where he would have seen us together.” She seemed to suddenly put it all together. “My father soundly chastised him for fortune hunting, which would have been humiliating. He needed the money, and it all fell to… a middle class lawyer who didn’t deserve it. And while he had a loveless marriage and hid himself off in the countryside, that middle class lawyer ended up successful, with everything he originally wanted. And then that middle class lawyer turned up on his doorstep with no idea who he was… and that petty small minded man had a toy to play all sorts of nasty games with.” Her expression grew even darker. “I assume you’re mentioning that these men were homosexuals for a reason?”

“I’m quite certain the Duke… amused himself by hiring your husband as a footman and letting his servants and guests abuse him. Mr. Barrow believes, based on knowing the Duke, on having heard certain ugly rumors in the… social circles he is in… that your husband was violently assaulted in a game the Duke calls the fox hunt.”

Mary Crawley, Bates realized suddenly, was a much quicker study than people thought. “Matthew was the fox and the Duke and his valet and others were the hunters, weren’t they? And he’s throwing up in horror at the idea of having to let his family know that he has potentially shamed himself by at best unwittingly submitting to a man’s advances during a time where I am certain he was so suggestible he would have jumped off a cliff if someone told him to? And then he was violently assaulted and whipped, and raped by numerous men, at least one of whom we’ve been forcing him to make small talk with over drinks? Am I following correctly?”

Bates sighed. “Yes. I think that is accurate.”

“This party was a terrible idea all around.” She seemed to gather her thoughts. “Bates, please make sure Mr. Crawley isn’t bothered by anyone that is involved with this. Please do not bring this to Lord Grantham’s attention until Mr. Crawley has had time to prepare himself and until I have had time to speak with him and reassure him that I am not angry or disappointed with him.”

“You’re not?” He almost cursed himself for speaking without thinking.

Her eyes flashed, though not as severely as before. “You have such a low opinion of me, Mr. Bates. Tell me… John… if it had been Anna who had been sorely injured and who had disappeared for a year, would you be angry and disappointed in her for not remembering your wedding vows? Would you fault her for finding work under a cruel master who gave her no reason to think she could say no to his advances? Would you fault her for not being able to stop several men from beating her and raping her?”

“No, milady. If, god forbid, something even half as terrible happened to my wife, my only thought would be how much I love her and how angry I was at those who hurt her.” And how best revenge would be taken, but he didn’t want to give that idea to her. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded her acceptance of his apology. “If Matthew had simply woken in the hospital cold storage with no memory of himself, once I understood what his injury meant, I would not have touched him or expected him to touch me… Because until he remembered himself, he was like an innocent. Anyone that tricked him, or lied to him, or forced him under the threat of punishment, to do anything was being cruel beyond belief. And the fact that my husband has whip scars that still cause him pain tells me he was not a willing participant.” She took a deep breath. “My husband will no doubt spend the rest of his life feeling shamed by this even though he is not at fault. I will not add to that burden. Anyone who points a finger at Matthew over this will no longer be welcome in this house. If that means we become social pariahs, I don’t care. Matthew is my husband and I love him.“

“You do surprise me, Lady Mary. I didn’t think you’d be so kind. I thought you’d be worried about the scandal.” He was overstepping but he didn’t care. He had to be certain.

“Oh I’m worried about the scandal,” Mary said sharply, “But my husband is not to blame for that scandal. Anyone decent will see that. Anyone who doesn’t see it doesn’t matter. And the Duke will pay.”

“Lady Mary… “She glared at him and he knew he was well past being forward, but it had to be said. “If you are considering revenge, please consider how difficult it might be for Mr. Crawley to need to visit you in jail.”

That stopped her short. Thank god, Bates thought. There was only one way the mess got worse instead of better and that was if Lady Mary Crawley took a shotgun to the Duke of Crowborough. “The Duke will pay,” she said after a long moment, “but I will consider what you have said carefully.”
~*~
It was a surprise to see Matthew suited up for the shooting. Tom wasn’t sure it was a good idea at all, Matthew looked almost shaky. “Matthew, I thought you weren’t coming, that you weren’t well.” Robert walked over to them as well, looking concerned as the other men began preparing their weapons.

Matthew shook his head. “Mary was being silly. I’m well enough.” In a voice aimed low, so that just Robert and he could hear, he added, “For god’s sake, they’ve actually led poor Wilkenson out here. If a man with one eye, one leg, and one hand can shoot at birds, I think I can manage with an upset stomach.”

Robert fairly beamed at Matthew’s words, and didn’t notice that his pleasure only seemed to worry Matthew. Worse, as soon as Robert turned his attention to the other men, Matthew pulled him away and said very softly, “Tom, I need your help. When the shooting starts, we need to slip away and take one of the cars and I need you to drive me to my mother’s house.”

“But she’s at the Abbey,” Tom said.

“I know. But there’s a phone at her house, and I need to use it, and I need your help getting there because I still can’t manage the gear shift safely.” There was an odd sort of determination to Matthew, something Tom hadn’t seen in what felt like years. Of course, he realized suddenly, this is what Matthew is like when he isn’t nervous or frightened that he’s about to cause a problem, and it had been a very long time since he’d seen Matthew as anything other than a somewhat nervous timid man. Something has happened, he realized, and while he suspected it wasn’t pleasant, at the very least Matthew seemed better in a way that made him glad.

It was almost fun to sneak back to the cars once all the birds were let loose. Just almost because he had a feeling something was wrong. He waited until they were in the car before he asked. “Why can’t you use the phone at the Abbey?”

“Because it’s in a public area and the Duke of Crowborough’s valet is watching me and I want to surprise his grace with an unpleasant revelation. By the way, tonight is going to be unpleasant.” Matthew said it firmly, but Tom could see his whitened knuckles clutching the car’s door.

“What’s going to happen tonight?” It sounded quite ominous.

“Do you know what it feels to have a bandage ripped off? It hurts a great deal at first but then you feel more agile, and the pain fades. You don’t forget the pain of course, but it has to be done. This morning, the bandage on my memory was ripped off. I remember everything. I remember the night my son was born. I remember what came after. I remember running out of the morgue, and jumping into an open box car because I thought I was in some sort of trouble. I remember stumbling up to a workhouse where the people who ran it cleaned me up and the man who ran the place said he thought I would suite the lord of the manor. Because I spoke well, and I looked the part. Did Robert ever tell you about the whip scars? That I got on the estate?” Matthew said it matter of factly, like it was obvious.

“No. Mary told me. She was worried because she thought Robert might push you too hard over it. Robert doesn’t… involve me in serious issues, you know.” It still burned him, how Robert was willing to return to using Matthew as his right hand man when until very recently, truth be told, Matthew had hardly been shining mentally.

“Yes. He favors my opinions and ideas because he can’t see past how you were his chauffer. I don’t make that mistake, Tom. You’re as clever as I am, better at the farm aspects of the estate, and frankly, there’s a good chance after tonight, you’re the one who will be left picking up the pieces.” Matthew relaxed just a little in the car seat. “There’s a reason I am asking this favor of you, and not of Robert. I trust you both, but you’re far cleverer than he is and even though what I am going to tell you is going to enrage you and will likely make you think less of me, you will immediately understand that right now the most important thing is mitigating the damage.”

On the one hand, it was good to hear someone in the family acknowledge him. On the other… “There’s nothing you can say that would make me think less of you, Matthew. If something terrible happened at the estate you worked at… Just by how you were when you walked through the door three months ago, we all knew something terrible had happened while you were lost. What was it?”

“I was used like…. Like a whore. By the Duke of Crowborough. Repeatedly.” Matthew was blunt. Tom was glad he had to keep his eyes on the road, because he didn’t want to let Matthew know just how shocked he felt. “The Duke of Crowborough’s estate is isolated and all of his servants are male and I think they were all in on the joke. Now that I remember, I can see how amused he was by the whole business. They made up all sorts of rules that were impossible to follow, and I was so befuddled, I just accepted it and thought I had to be the stupidest person in the world for not understanding what everyone else found so simple. I remember protesting at first, and I was told it was part of my job as a footman, to service his grace in any capacity the Duke saw fit. If I argued, I was beaten. I didn’t know I was allowed to leave, and the man at the workhouse told me I was being favored with a good spot and if I left, I’d be arrested.”

“And you were too confused to see that was a lie,” Tom finished. “That’s a nightmare, Matthew.”

“It gets worse.” Matthew kept his tone firm and in control, but Tom could tell they were talking about something painful and difficult. “I think the Duke kept me longer than others. I’m certain now he knew exactly who I was and was incredibly amused with ordering me about and having me beaten for any and all mistakes. I know I wasn’t the first. I know he had the head of the workhouse over to dine often and they were like minded on numerous unpleasant activities… Most of the servants, any number of the guests… I think the Duke had numerous small private parties where I was the source of amusement and entertainment. I think he started to finally feel some risk, I am sure his valet had a hand in that, and Hightower arranged for me to be killed. They have a game. It’s called the fox hunt. One night, I got shoved from behind and I dropped a platter and broke it, of course. I was taken to the horse barn and whipped until I couldn’t stand and then the Duke offered to let me live if I would play the game, to be the fox in their hunt. If I got off the estate limits, I would win. If I didn’t…. I would be sodomized by everyone chasing me. “He paused. “I didn’t get off the estate limits. After… after they were all done with me, the valet, Hightower said it was time for his grace to kill me. Have you noticed by the way, how Hightower the valet and I are similar in appearance?”

He hadn’t until just that moment but Matthew was right. Hightower was a little shorter but blonde and blue eyed and quite dashing, the sort of man the housemaids would have been giggling over in the servants hall. "I see it now, I just don’t see where you’re going.”

“Hightower is the Duke’s… I don’t know what they call it… Primary lover? Any time the Duke showed another man attention, Hightower would get angry. I realize now that he was constantly punishing me and deriding me because he was jealous. And the Duke knew this and seemed to enjoy it. I was lying at the bottom of a ravine, where they’d left me, and Hightower was telling the Duke it was time to finish the hunt…. And the Duke chided him for acting like a jealous school girl.” Matthew laughed bitterly. “Then he told Hightower that even though I was just a pretty little fox, it was his decision, not Hightower’s as to whether I lived or died and Hightower needed to know his place. Then he kicked me and told me to consider myself lucky that his valet needed a lesson and that my place was to keep my mouth shut if I wanted to continue living. I didn’t… I didn’t remember any of this clearly until this morning. I am certain that the Duke came to this shooting party to see if I did remember any of it. Someone else gave me a warning that the Duke was planning to kill me during the shooting.”

“Who?” Tom asked. Because whoever it was had to have known the entire situation.

“It doesn’t matter who, it was someone who genuinely didn’t know who I was, and I have no desire to see his life ruined.” Matthew said it firmly. “As it is…. You do see the problem here? Why tonight will be unpleasant? Because… I can’t let this go. Even though I will be ruined.”

“No, you’re the victim here, “Tom said reassuringly. “And I don’t think less of you at all. You weren’t right in the head.”

“Yes, that’s going to help, that the heir to the Earldom of Grantham wasn’t right in the head when he was being used like a woman by the Duke of Crowborough.” Matthew shrugged tiredly.

“You have to tell this? As some sort of point of honor?” Tom knew Matthew could be almost obnoxious when it came to such things.

“There is that,” Matthew said, “but if it was just that, then no. I would keep silent to save the family some embarrassment. I would tell Mary, of course, but I would otherwise keep this a secret. The problem, Tom, is that I wasn’t the first blond, blue eyed, somewhat simple man that the head of the workhouse funneled to the Duke’s estate staff, and I doubt very much that I was the last, and I can’t allow that to continue. No one deserves to suffer like that and I can live with the embarrassment of being considered a mentally deficient ponce. I can’t live with the notion that I could have stopped it from happening to some other poor fellow. I can’t.“

And that means I have to help, Tom decided. “So why are we driving to your mother’s house to use the phone?”

“Because there is one thing that trumps all of this, and the Duke doesn’t realize that I know it. He thinks that his position, and mine, will mean that I won’t tell anyone because all it accomplishes is my own ruin. And he’s right. If this was just about my being assaulted by him and used, he wins. Oh sure, Robert will make a gigantic fuss and the Duke will no doubt be off the guest list for numerous events, but so will I, and I will be effectively ruined because I did disappear for a year and didn’t even know my own name, so when I accuse the Duke, his servants will back his story that he never saw me. There’s no proof. He won’t be arrested, and would no doubt spread it around that I must be hallucinating and of course my memory is suspect. But he made a mistake, a very big mistake, and I intend to rub his face in it.”

“What mistake did he make?” Tom asked as they pulled up to Crawley House.

“He forgot that foxes are hunted because they are clever.”
~*~