Dante: Listening In

Dante was quick to wash up and, not needing to talk to his father, snuck about until he could hear Caine and Martha talking.

His father's voice, normally a stern sotto, was strangely boisterous as he spoke. "So, there we are, the entire Begman entourage, standing at the doorway of the sitting room, and the sweet little daughter of the Duke is half-stripped, your darling husband's hardly any better, and Dad's standing there, trying to be stern and majestic as Gerard tries to pull his pants back on."

"And where were you?"

"Oh, I was trying not to pass out from laughing."

"Hmph." Martha, for all her mock indignance, still seemed to be amused by the tale. "And they found their tea booked in the same room as Gerard's little fun by chance…?"

"Well, a little black bird and a few gold might have had something to do with it…"

A queer thought struck Dante. Martha didn't seem to mind about Gerard's escapades with other women. Perhaps Vinta wouldn't be upset at Caine's. And he suddenly felt that it wouldn't be all that fun to tell her about it, not that he relished the idea of explaining how he found out. On the other hand, the prank was worth using... if only he new someone worth setting up.

"Now why would you do that?" asked Martha, returning to her stirring. "Gerard's such a heart..."

"Not when he was four and twenty, he wasn't." Dante could hear as Caine took another sip of the brew. "I'd told him I had my eye on the pretty little Pashka, and the first chance he got, he tried to snatch her up." He laughed. "That Duke never did come back to Amber... And I think the two of us managed to set back Begman talks twenty years between the two of us that afternoon."

Behind him, Dante heard the quiet tread of another pair of feet. Turning, he saw Keenan standing behind him, hair wetted and face cleaned and terribly somber.

... and Dante moved as if he had just turned the corner before him, down the stairs. Concerned by Keenan's appearance he asked, "think you'll be up for dinner?"

Keenan shrugged. "I guess so. But Dante, you need to promise me something."

Dante paused for a beat, "promise what?" Even as he said it he began descending the stairs again, looking at his father.

Keenan caught his arm so that he couldn't descend any farther. "Promise you won't tell anyone anything about what we did today."

"Keen... I can't pretend we did nothing. What should I do when they ask... lie?" It was precisely what Dante had planned to do, but he wondered what the reaction would be.

Keenan frowned. "Well, you can tell them that we went down the festival, and that part... just not about the green house and the ladies," he replied.

"Yeah, I don't think that was something to volunteer. Dinner smells good. Shall we?" Dante nodded at the grip Keenan still held and looked at him questioningly.

Keenan released him and nodded. "All right," he said, and followed Dante down the stairs to the kitchen.

Martha had laid out six bowls around the dinner table, even if there weren't any place settings-- that was still Keenan's task.

Gerard followed not long after, his face clean shaven save for his goatee, and the cuts bandaged up. Martha noted them with some concern. "What's this...?"

He batted her hand away. "Just need a new razor, that's all."

Keenan quickly got out the silverware and cups and such and set the table. He was more subdued than usual, and made sure to set his own place next to his father. As he finished he looked around. "Mum? There's only five of us... why've we got six places?"

Dante looked at the empty space for a moment, and then looked at Caine questioningly.

"Your mother," said Caine, nodding his head at the crowded bar beyond the kitchen walls. "She's out there, trying to strike up some new contracts. Theoretically, she'll be joining us."

The settings done, Martha and Gerard took their seats. "Theoretically," pointed out Martha, "You could go get your wife."

Caine shrugged. "I never like working in theories." With that, and without grace, he set down his mug and dug in.

Dante looked at the empty chair again, and then followed the lead of Caine.

Keenan sat and picked at his dinner, mostly pushing the food around rather than putting any in his mouth. He kept fidgeting and inching his chair towards his father's.

Vinta did join them after a time, cheeks flush and fingers awkward with drink. The adults talked amongst themselves, chattering about politics or pirates or the outlandish cost of oak and steel this year.

Gerard was silent as well, eating quickly, but not excusing himself back to his boat or the sitting room, as was his wont. He didn't even object to Keenan's closeness, even when the boy was practically in his lap. Finally, Martha noticed.

"Kee?" She reached out to stroke his forehead. "Are you alright?"

"A scare on the boat," Gerard said quickly. "He's fine."

Keenan glanced at his father and smothered the look of surprise. He nodded. "I'm fine, Mum," he said. "Just had a bit of trouble with the sail on the way back. Dante put it right, though." He forced a smile at her.

Dante noticed that the conversation had swung his way, and swallowed hard on a piece of meat. "Keen could have done it. I think he was just being polite."

She frowned, her chunk of bread lowering to her plate. "What--"

"It's a sailor thing." Gerard cut her off. "Kee, it's getting late, and you boys had enough excitement. I think it's time for bed."

"Yes sir," Keenan said. He got out of his seat and went to give his mother a hug and a kiss good night. He then went back to his father and hugged him as well. "Will you tuck me in, Dad?" he asked.

Dante looked up for a moment at the scene. It was everything that it should be, and he realized that he didn't have that. Naturally, it disgusted him. He looked at the remains of food on his plate and shoveled some meat in and washed it down with some water.

"Sure." Gerard wiped his own mouth, then lead his son up to his room. It had been a few years since he'd supervised the night-time washing up, but this night he was right behind Keenan all the way, from teeth brushing to crawling in bed.

"You did good," said Gerard, once Keenan was settled down. "And I figure something out. Don't worry."

"I trust you, Daddy," Keenan whispered, looking up at his father with worshipful eyes. "I know you won't let anything bad happen to me, or to Annie." He sat up to get one more hug from his father before settling down under the blankets and closing his eyes.