The Lady and the Earl by Diedre Clark

was the man people came to if they had problems, especially Lucas.  Lucas always came to him to complain about something or boast about his latest conquest, so Connor assumed —or rather hoped —L ucas was here today to vent about his late father. 
    “I’ m exhausted for one thing.  I h aven’t slept much lately.  But beyond that, I do not know, Connor,” Lucas said truthfully.  “ I thought I would be glad when he finally died, but I feel,” he paused.  “ I feel…mournful. ”   He nodded to himself as if that was indeed the word he was looking for.
    Connor nodded in understanding.  He’ d known Lucas as far back as he could remember, and it seemed even in their early friendship, Lucas hated his father.  “ Perhaps that’ s because you wish things could have been different between you and your father.”
    “Perhaps, but I cannot change that, and he did not try,” Lucas answered .
    “Then maybe you wish you could have settled things between the two of you before he passed . ” 
    Lucas laughed.  “What?  Just forgive and forget ?” he sneered. 
    Connor shrugged.  “I suppose so.”
    Lucas studied him for a minute, mellowing.  “I did … at first.  I was ac tually angry when he grew sick . ”   He paused, draining his glass of sherry. 
    “ And ?” Connor asked even though he knew he didn’t need to.  Lucas would tell him whether he wanted to know or not.  That’s just the way it was between them.
    “You know how much I hated him?” Lucas questioned.
    Connor nodded.
    “Well, one night—one of his sane ni ghts—he looked at me and said, ‘ I am truly sorry, Lucas.  I’ ve been a terrible father.  Can you ever forgive me? ’   As though those words on his deathbed were supposed to make up for all of those years of torment.  I was scum in that man’s eyes, and sudde nly he wanted my forgiveness?” Lucas laughed bitterly.
    “What did you say to him?” Connor asked , taking a sip of sherry and regretting it the instant he did.  His stomach churned , about forcing the sip along with his morning meal back up.  Maybe he should have found something else to drink. 
    “Well, I couldn’t very well tell the old man the truth, could I?  So I just stood there, fighting my anger.  I was fuming.  I hated him more than ever at that moment.  I wanted to take his pillow and suffocate the life from him.  I even had a pillow in my hands ready to do the deed,” Lucas finished, staring darkly at the fireplace.
    “What did you do?” 
    “What do you think I did?  You think I smothered him, don’t you,” Lucas asked with amusement.
    “I hope not, but it had crossed my mind,” Connor replied honestly. 
    Lucas laughed.  “That i s what I like best about you, C onnor, your frankness. ”
    “I’ ve never found any reason to be otherwise with you, Lucas.  You always find out the truth of matters , so why hide or avoid it?” Connor replied.  He’d never been able to lie to Lucas , and there was only one secret he had ever been able to keep from his friend, a secret Lucas still did not know.  “So what happened?”
    “I did not kill him, even though I wanted to.  I placed the pillow behind his head and lied to him.”
    “You told him you forg ave him,” Connor supplied.  “I’ m impressed Lucas.  You gave him peace before he died.  Very noble … almost too noble for you.”
    Lucas laughed.  “It was painful, but the man was on his deathbed.  Could I truly have sent him to his grave any other way?  Not even I am that heartless.”
    “No?”
    “Well, maybe I am.  I had a moment of weakness apparently.”  Both men laughed at that.  Lucas’s laughter was dark though. 
    Sometimes Connor felt a coldness from him, a coldness bordering on the brink of malice.  Lucas could be just plain cruel.  Connor had experience d that side of him firsthand . It was not pretty, and Conno r had lost far more than he ever imagined possible.  
    “Either way, it was a