Welcome to Gaia! ::

Kathryn's silence was answer enough, though he was not certain why she chose to remain tight-lipped on the subject. Still, it seemed he was not the only one with revenge on the mind.

At this further mention of his father, however, Thomas could only scoff. "It is amazing that he can accomplish anything, blind and deaf as he is. But then, I suppose he is accustomed to speaking out of his a**."

This willingness to openly insult his father may be new to her, for when she knew him, Thom had still been a boy holding onto hope that the Duke might recognize him. Indeed, he had glorified the man. Having become a man himself, Thom had long since grown out of that phase. Instead, he found himself occupied by more important matters. The man he was forced to call father had garnered only his deepest resentment.

"Here and then gone again," he said. It was perhaps unfair of him, but Thomas found himself rather irked at the idea of an old friend reappearing from as good as dead only to hurry off again. "Aspiring to be the wind, are we?"

Ah. But there was a question. His countenance grew dark as he allowed his mind to go back to those harried moments when he and Sigyn fought for Tori's life. The moment when his eyes locked with the beast's. The moment when he saw into the depths of its thrice-cursed soul and had all but heard the malice and mockery it held for him. Him, and every human in Sunderland.

There was not an ounce of doubt in Tom's voice when he said, "They will return."

"No need to stay on my account," he informed her rather acidically. Thomas was a selfish man. He knew that much about himself. He was capable of generosity, to be sure; but since Victoria's death, he had found no particular urge to find the kinder side of his heart. Selfish he may be, but pitiful he was not. He refused to accept such sappery from anyone, least of all this woman he had once known as a girl.

"Though you are, of course, welcome to visit should you so desire." He'd be damned if she stayed because she felt sorry for him.

He scoffed, somehow mollified by her harsh reply. "Then consider me at your service, milady." He honored her with an ironic bow, something that should have been awkward on Guardian-back, but somehow still managed to be graceful enough. "Use me as you see fit."

Rather abruptly, the trees parted to reveal a wide, rolling plain covered in row-upon-row of posts. They were empty in the midst of winter, but they were the sort that vines were clearly strung upon in the warmer months. Beyond the vineyard stood a proud stone manor - not as grand as Tyneworth, perhaps, but an impressive sight nonetheless. "Welcome to Ravensgate."

Thomas graced her with a droll look. "I am certain that my ancestors had your disapproval in mind when naming it."

It was a rather long ride to the manor itself, but the trip did not seem to take very long. Not in good company with a warm hearth and a hot meal to look forward to.

Rather than head directly inside, Thomas led them around back where they were met by an older, no-nonsense woman who could only be the cook. She quite efficiently shot off instructions to a pair of lads who then relieved Grosvenor of his burden and disappeared with the carcass. If she was at all curious as to Thomas's surprise guest, she made no comment on it; and if the lads thought to stare at Katrana, they quickly changed their minds under the cook's stern gaze.

"As ever, you are a peach, Beatrice," he said, to which she harrumphed and bustled inside - though not before a discerning observer might have noticed a glint of affection in her eyes.

"She adores me," Thomas confided in Katrana. Sigyn, meanwhile, led them to the lavish stable which adjoined the manor, proper. There, Thomas dismounted and saw her well tended. Though the doe was allowed inside, she often preferred to remain out of doors.

"Your father was a wise man," he said. Terror though she could be, it was Mrs. McClellan who breathed life into the manor with her fine cooking. The kitchens were the heart of any home.

"I think we can spare a few," he said drily. Honestly, Ravensgate was not so poor, nor he so miserly, that he could not feed a friend's Guardian. Walking with Sigyn to her stall - it was an open thing with no need for a lock - Thomas called, "Oats for a guest, Mister Brown."

"Of course, my lord," came the reply from somewhere deeper in the stable.

"Mister Brown will see them settled, if Grosvenor does not object."

"She is not overly fond of stone floors," he said, and did not bother to add that she sometimes came inside to sleep beside him or keep him company. It was not that the doe hated being inside, it was simply that she preferred grass or earth beneath her hooves.

Rather than circle around the manor to reach the front door, he led Kathryn in through the rear. Who was he trying to impress anyway? Still, even from the back, it was clear that the manor was of fine make, and the furnishings tasteful.

A footman took their coats, but Thomas waved him off afterward, instead telling him which room they would be using. The staff must know their lord well, for further instructions were not required.