Nature or Nurture Ch. 48

Lord Douglas is very interested, apparently he can concentrate, and he really does know blades and iron, and he states, 'Well, let's get to it, I'll choose a blade that matches the weight of yours a little better than my favourite, and if you wield this one well, maybe you will let me try it for balance after that?'

'Of course, my Lord, I have promised the craftsmaster who made it to promote his work wherever I can.'

And with this, they both take a formal stance and greet each other.

Vincent, still aware of the difference in class, holds back a little, one cannot thrash a Lord in his own home after all, and the first exchange of blows takes place on Lord Douglas' instigation. Keeping to the traditional style, and holding back about half of his actual strength, though none of his agility, Vincent catches the blade of his opponent with his own, then tests his defence with a lightning succession of strokes against the young man's blade.

In the following spar, Vincent learns a lot about Lord Douglas. He is fast, and he is strong, and he manages to press Vincent almost as hard as Bruce does. It is difficult to stick to the traditional style, Vincent has already missed several opportunities to disarm the young man, traditional fencing just doesn't allow for his superior speed.

Picking up the speed another notch, Vincent notices that Lord Douglas starts to falter, but this is to be expected, for Vincent is now moving beyond what is natural. The young man knows plenty of difficult manoeuvres, but this is going too fast for him, he can no longer complete his moves and he is getting a little sloppy in his defence, especially on his left side.

Too bad, this one is not a real challenge to Vincent. He decides to not disarm him, that is humiliating, he just keeps the bout going until his opponent signals a stop. They greet, and totally out of breath, the young Lord gasps, 'You are the best fighter I've ever seen, and you were holding back, weren't you?'

With a bow, Vincent replies, 'Thank you, my Lord, and yes, I was holding back, but only strength, speed is not dangerous, so I went all out on that.'

'I'm used to being the very best, Mr Vincent, but you have shown me there is always someone better. Will you go another round with me, as soon as I have my breath back? And you have kept to traditional forms perfectly, will you demonstrate your own style afterwards? I would offer my participation, but I'm afraid I'd only be in your way.'

Vincent cannot control a smile at Lord Douglas' sudden modesty, but he is used to teaching novices, so he can demonstrate with an able fighter like him. And he'll give him one advantage, all part of the greater plan in which Paul gets the credit he deserves.

'I will demonstrate with you, I'm very curious what you think of my style. It is a mixture of traditional fencing and martial arts. I may fly a bit.

And to give you a little equalizer, you can use my sword, if you will let me lend one of yours.'

Of course the young man agrees, and whilst he catches his breath, walking a little to prevent stiffness, Vincent handles all the blades in the armoury cabinets, finally choosing one of the right size and weight, of beautifully folded Damascus steel. He has always wanted to feel how that handles, though the balance is slightly off, as all swords are to his feeling.

'With your permission, I'll use this one.'

'That used to be my brother's sword. He passed away last year, to my father's infinite sadness. He was a great swordsman, he's given me many a thrashing until his duties prevented him from exercising his skills. He was my father's heir.'

His musings do not contain a ban on using that particular sword, and they greet once more, traditional style, Lord Douglas handling Vincent's sword with obvious delight. As they exchange blows once again, Vincent bringing out his opponent's best moves by sticking to the young Lord's maximum speed, he is really impressed by that one's knowledge. Without his special physical abilities, Vincent would be hard-pressed.

Of course, sticking to tradition also takes a toll, it truly limits the possibilities for agile moves and lightning reactions, for the Lord too, he notices. He is a very good swordsman indeed, and he might give Bruce competition, though his friend is incredibly fast.

Not speeding up makes this bout a lot more enjoyable, and though Lord Douglas knows that Vincent is now holding back on two fronts, he doesn't seem to resent that. He relishes the speed at which they are moving, he can barely execute the more difficult forms, but it forces him to test his own limits, and it has been a long time since he has been able to do that.

Every time Vincent knows Lord Douglas' move will profit by the balance of Vincent's sword, he can see the delight in Lord Douglas' face, he truly is an expert to feel the difference.

This time it is Vincent who finishes the bout, if they want to do a third round, his opponent needs to spare himself just a little. They greet, and immediately the young man falls over himself with praise for Vincent's sword.

'I felt it, it is so much better than any blade I've held. Incredible.'

He checks the edge, which is of course as keen as ever.

'I need one of these, just a tiny bit lighter and shorter, and maybe a bit less plain, but I truly need one. Will you give me the address of the maker, that I can order one of my very own?'

Thinking of scores of young nobles calling on Paul to order swords, Vincent replies, 'I will be happy to, I'll write the address down for you once we're done.

Shall we have a go again, this time my style? Use my sword, if it pleases you. We greet like this.

And Vincent demonstrates the greeting Bruce and himself have composed out of martial arts and fencing, and amazingly, the young Lord gets it right straight away.

The first exchange of blows seems normal, until Vincent disappears in thin air, landing behind the young man. He coughs, and the young man turns around, spotting him.

Both the Lord and Mr Wilde look stunned, apparently they have never seen someone jumping like this. They exchange a few more blows, and Vincent tells the young man how they have designed additional moves, and use jumps a lot more often, and every move Vincent demonstrates, Lord Douglas imitates nearly perfectly the first time.

He is a natural, no doubt, and with this style and a new sword, he could soon test at least Bruce to his limits.

'All right, enough, I know I can learn this, but now I want to see your best, so please demonstrate without me holding you back. And he exchanges blades once more, and clears a large space, taking Mr Wilde with him.

Vincent greets again, then launches into one of his practising exercises, at the top of his speed, killing unseen enemies left and right, incorporating jumps wherever appropriate. When he finishes, both men applaud, and he greets them formally. Then he sheathes his sword, sweating, but not breathing hard, and Mr Wilde comments dryly.

'There is even more to you than I thought, Mr Vincent, that was remarkable even to a layman. I bet Bosie will want to have a set of lessons from you, maybe in exchange for a little ride now and then?'

Vincent is reassured seeing the look of surprised shock he must wear mirrored in the young Lord, Vincent has never minded loving Victor, and he has to admit to himself he'd like to check out whether that young Lukas was serious in his offer of some intimacies once they know each other better, but he would never ever burn his hands on a young Lord with influential parents.

Of course Mr Wilde was teasing the both of them, laughing heartily.

'On a horse, you numbwits, Mr Vincent here likes to ride a horse as much as you do, but he doesn't get the chance very often since he has had to sell his vicious black stallion Balthasar. You've plenty of over-spirited hunters, you can indulge him, if he helps you reach another level of swordsmanship. That style is not just very efficient, it is incredibly beautiful to watch.

Mr Vincent is only slightly more elegant than I am, but he looked like Apollo flying about like that.'

Mr Wilde is very outspoken, but somehow his bluntness is not hurtful, probably because he doesn't spare himself either.

'You cannot spend other people's time like that, Oscar,' Lord Douglas replies, 'you of all people should know that actors are very busy, and you told me Mr Vincent has the cutest little fairy of a daughter.'

'That she is, and we wouldn't want her to suffer neglect, for I suspect that little fairy can turn into a little elf as quickly as her dad could disarm you.'

These guys are not exactly kind to one another, it is getting rather uncomfortable to be around them, being ignored totally.

Lord Douglas breaks the tension by offering them a refreshment, and Vincent feels obliged to accept, also, he really is thirsty after three rounds of fencing and a demonstration at full speed, on top of an afternoon's rehearsal.

For Lord Douglas is right, George Alexander is very demanding.

They move to another lavishly decorated room, though a little more masculine in style, with red and blue walls instead of light blue or pink, and Vincent does wonder whose mansion it is.

The young man is reputed to have a rather indifferent bond to his father, and this mansion practically exudes femininity, excepting this room and the salle.

His host and Mr Wilde are drinking brandy, straight, but Vincent has to draw a line somewhere, and though he can guzzle brandy all day without getting drunk, he is positively thirsty and he doesn't care for the taste either, so he opts for a glass of wine, well-watered.

The distinction of the classes must be respected, and former orphans cannot go around drinking expensive brandy in broad daylight. One of these men is in a way his employer, and Vincent needs to show himself respectable and appropriate.

Drinking brandy doesn't seem to stop the gentlemen's bickering, they are not fighting, but they don't exactly seem friends either. Mr Wilde criticizes Lord Douglas' dependence upon his tyrannical father and his mother, who seems to be divorced from the father.

Lord Douglas criticizes Mr Wilde's choice of actors for his play, and his decision to let George Alexander direct it as well as play the lead role.

Fortunately Lord Douglas' fencing skills are no longer derided, for that would make Vincent feel bad for having outclassed him, plus the young Lord is really good, it wouldn't at all be deserved. After one glass of watered wine, Vincent feels it is totally appropriate to want to go home, not just because he feels very uncomfortable in the company of the two men, but also because his family will be waiting for him.

He has had a great time fencing with Lord Douglas and he tells him so politely, then requests directions back to the St James' theatre.

'You can't walk all that, that's more than an hour, it will be dark by the time you get there and there are gangs of...oh never mind those,' Lord Douglas says.

'Anyway, I am your host and therefore it will be my pleasure to see you home safely, which is why I will drive you home personally, in my lovely curricle with my best team.'

He rings a bell and talks to a liveried servant.

'Please have another glass of wine, it's the best vintage I could get hold of, and I'll take you to your doorstep, so you can drink it unwatered, to appreciate the superb taste.'

Of course, that is true, it is a waste and a shame to water excellent wine, and Vincent accepts a glass with the respect it deserves. And it is indeed a marvellous wine, thinking of the wines they usually drink, this one is almost alive in his mouth.

They have drunk excellent wine at Adison's father's home, and a memory presents itself of some much darker, much stronger vintage he had regularly when still in the service of the master, and he decides to ask what kind that may have been, it might bring the conversation to a more innocuous subject.

The gentlemen immediately agree that it must have been Madeira wine, and they keep up a discourse on the best wines from all over Europe until the servant announces that the carriage is ready.

Mr Wilde stays behind, he seems affected by the brandy already, and the thought of a wobbly ride across town clearly doesn't appeal to him.

Taking leave very politely, and thanking him for a fun afternoon, Vincent is actually glad he is not coming. They will have a nice row when Lord Douglas returns, about nothing at all. These gentlemen love each other, but the secrecy they have to cope with is clearly taking its toll.

Still, Vincent prefers they release that tension without him, or with physical exercise instead of bickering.

As they move outside, Lord Douglas thanks him profusely for the sparring, and tells Vincent, 'I really would like to have some instruction from you, or from anyone else able to teach your style. I do believe I'm at the pinnacle of my art in traditional fencing, and I want to move on.'

Vincent can heartily agree that his own style has a lot to offer this gentleman, and he suggests that as long as the rehearsals last, he can teach once a week after practise, if Lord Douglas can have Vincent fetched and taken home.

'I live well, but I cannot afford to keep a horse,' he says.

They decide on a day and a time, and talk quite seriously about matters of money, independence and love for the duration of the ride, which is very pleasant.

The curricle is beautiful, and very comfortable, and with two horses instead of one it is very fast indeed. The horses are excellent quality as well, Lord Douglas does not need to have his carriage horses saddle trained, he probably has a stable full of saddle horses as well. These are very slim, bay in colour and very fast trotters. Beautiful, elegant creatures.

'Do you drive?' he asks Vincent.

'I don't think so, no,' Vincent answers, a bit tired and not aware how strange that must sound.

'Aren't you sure?' the young man asks.

Vincent explains, very shortly.

'I suffered a broken skull, and lost most of my memories.'

'That explains a lot,' the Lord offers, and he doesn't ask any further, but asks instead, 'Care to try? Maybe you'll remember.'

After short explanation, he hands Vincent the reins, but the feeling of two sets of reins is not familiar, nor do any memories surface to suggest he has done this before. It is kind of fun though, and since it is not very busy in this part of town at this time of the afternoon, he asks whether he can try anyway, until they reach the busier area of St James.

'So you don't remember doing it before?'

Keeping an eye on traffic, he replies, 'No, had I done it before I'd know.'

Suddenly, Lord Douglas says, 'Despite our bickering, Oscar and I really care for each other.'

Glad to be busy, Vincent manages to keep his tone light.

'I suspected something of the kind.'

'And you don't judge us for that?'

Eyes still on the road, Vincent replies, 'It's not my place to judge you.'

That sounds really dry and uncaring, this young man feels strongly about this, so he elaborates.

'I've loved a man.'

'But you are married, don't you love your wife? Oscar didn't.'

'I love my wife to distraction. Actually, we loved our best friend together. It was good, and now he has a girl of his own.'

Now the traffic is thickening, carriages and carts, and even some cyclists and automobiles, and Vincent quickly but quietly hands the reins back to Lord Douglas.

'You are a horseman, that much is clear. I've enjoyed talking to you as much as fencing with you. I'm looking forward to your lessons. Say, we forgot to write down the address of the smith who made your sword, will you remember that when we reach your house? That's St James over there, if you tell me how to drive we'll be at your home in no time.'

As Vincent gives the directions, thinking hard because he has used some alleys that can only be crossed on foot, Lord Douglas seems quite familiar with the neighbourhood. When Vincent remarks on this, he replies, 'I do know this quarter, my mother has recently started to use a practice here for her complaints, and they don't do housecalls on our side of town, said it was too far away.

I told my mother she'd better use one closer to home, one that does do housecalls, it's demeaning to have to go to a practice, but she insisted, said she was glad they had one now, so she could use the best practice in town. It's a few blocks ahead, you may have heard of it since you live close, maybe you know whether their reputation is deserved. Mother says they can bring people back from the dead, but that's just ludicrous.'

Vincent cannot believe his ears, one of the new customers, what are the odds?

'You mean Dr Frankenstein's practice?'

'So you've heard of it, is it any good? Or is my mother throwing her time and money away? She does seem better.'

Smiling, Vincent replies proudly, 'I can't give you an impartial opinion on Dr Frankenstein's practice, Dr Frankenstein is my best friend, and my wife is his partner in the firm. Of course I find them the best doctors in the entire town, he saved my life, and she cured my wounds.'

Let him think of that what he wills.

'That is where you live? I know exactly where that is. Imagine the coincidence! I'll tell my mother I won't argue with her anymore, I had a friend who broke his skull getting kicked by his own horse. He died within days, never regained consciousness.

And you just beat me at swordplay three times, I didn't have a chance, and Oscar and George speak highly of your talent as an actor. The doctor and your wife must be geniuses.'

And at that moment, they arrive, and Vincent runs into the practice and writes down Paul's address on a slip of paper. Before anyone has noticed him he is back outside, and he hands the paper to Lord Douglas.

'I had a lot of fun, Lord Douglas, you are a very skilled fighter indeed. I'm looking forward to teaching you a few tricks. And thanks for the ride, it was incredibly smooth.'

The young man looks pleased, and they shake hands. Then he turns the carriage and Vincent walks in, straight in Adison's loving arms.

'I'm so happy to see you, we expected you back hours ago.'

She is not in tears, but he can hear she has been very worried about him.

Lifting her in his arms, he snuggles his face against her, and kisses her throat and cheeks.

'I'm sorry love, Mr Wilde asked me to come with him to spar with a friend of his, Lord Douglas. I didn't dare refuse, but I must admit I liked the challenge as well. Apparently his mother is a patient of yours.'

This distracts Adison from her worried state, and she thinks for a moment.

'I think I know whom you mean, a new patient, very noble and very rich. She has severe overweight and is starting to really suffer for it.

I've prescribed her some special foods, difficult to get so she will not feel cut short but rather feel special. And some physical exercise, that is very important, if you get to know her son better maybe you can stress the importance of a walk a day to him.'

Glad to hear Adison so enthusiastic about her treatments for something that is not really a sickness, but according to her very unhealthy, he observes, 'They have a beautiful garden, every reason for her to go out and take a walk each day. And her son is an avid fencer, he's very good, they have a special room for physical exercise in their home.'

'I don't see this particular lady fencing, but who knows.'

Apparently the very idea makes her laugh, and Vincent melts at the sight, taking her in his arms once more, kissing her fervently.

'You were totally right once again, my love, everybody was nice, they worked as hard as me, they quoted poetry for absolutely no reason at all, and I had read all the books they talked about. No-one looked at me twice, except when I was on stage, and no-one critiqued anything but my acting, I got some very useful tips, and I'm glad you and I don't bicker.'