@ronmanmob

It is the fifth night of the fortnight-long festivities at the manor. I am entertaining the ramblings of an oil heiress on the superior qualities of Tussah over Mulberry, when the chatter of the group nearby with my father in attendance, crowned by the name Kray, reaches my ears over the sublime melody of the string quartet. The Duchess of Sutherland appears to have turned the conversation towards my Ronnie. "Really, it is so fascinating how these young brothers are practically cleaning up the East End. I've heard that you can finally walk through the streets again."

"Now, now, I wouldn't go that far. The state of Whitechapel is no different than how it used to be during the Great Depression. The people there are still utterly wretched, and these so called 'gangs' are simply making a dime off of their misery. I say, this is what happens when the powers that be leave the nation to its own devices."

"The powers that be? Wouldn't that be you, Lord Henry?" The Duchess' lighthearted repost elicits a gracious laughter amongst the group, and I turn my gaze towards them just in time to realise with a cold heart that my father, who hitherto was in a celebratory mood over his most recent investment, is the only person who appears unamused by the whole exchange. Instead, his eyes have very much grown fixated upon me.

"Oh, young Lord Trevor? You must introduce me to your charming friend, Mr. Kray. I, for one, am very interested in what he has to say." The Duchess calls for my attention with a slight wave of her gloved hand once she notices my gaze, and I am shaken out of my daze just in time to offer a feigned smile and answer, "Of course, Duchess."

It is long past midnight when I am summoned up to my father's office. I watch as he pours a generous shot from his favoured bottle of whiskey into an ornate tumbler. The act is shocking in itself, for he has seldom granted me such a show of weakness.

"You have brought a criminal, a crook, into my house." As he commences his speech, there is something in his voice that goes beyond the usual disappointment which I have grown used to. "I shook the man's hand while the entire world was watching. I treated him as a gentleman, because for all you have done to disgrace me and your own name, Victor, I could have never guessed you would start dallying with society's worst parasites in order to spite me." The severity of his words at last hits me upon his last sentence. "Father, this is absurd! Ronnie-Mr. Kray is a better man than you think. I realise he is quite modern in his approach, but if only you gave him a chance-"

"So now you address him by his name! Just what is this man to you? Speak." The stumble is fatal, and I knew it the second Ronnie's name had slipped across my tongue. "Nothing! Only, a friend."

As the seconds pass between the deafening silence, I see what is left of the colour in Lord Trevor's face dissipate completely. "This time, you have gone too far, Victor." A deathly pause, before his final verdict is uttered. "I will not have the likes of him in my home. You are to tell him to leave immediately."

"Now? It's half past two! Where am I supposed to send him?" I can hear the frustration in my own voice, yet I can do little to quell my indignation. To turn Ronnie out of the house in such a godforsaken hour, would be the greatest insult a man such as he could endure. I could never bring myself to inflict such a wound on Ronnie. What is more, I had never intended to make an enemy out of my father for him. "There is an inn at the village." Comes Lord Trevor's dry response.

It is in that cold, harsh moment that I come to my abrupt decision to choose Ronnie over my father's approval, for I have grown certain that the latter is a luxury I will never learn to afford.

"If you wish for him to leave, tell him yourself."