Andrew Danford fluttered his eyes to help his lashes detach from one another, as he waited for his sight to become clear. The blurry patches on the ceiling were a little disorientating. 

He sat up to take in his surroundings; minimal and rundown. Then after noticing the shabby-looking bed where he lay, and the old, splintered interior (not to mention his lack of bedroom attire), it occurred to Andrew that he hadn't made it home last night.

Getting up, he scrambled out of bed and for his clothes. Finding them in three mounds of the floor, pleased that he wouldn't have to search the alehouse main floor for any items of clothing, it was all here. Fortunately, he knew he was upstairs in the alehouse, just not with whom he had shared the night with. For Andrew had been in this situation before, at this particular establishment, and knew how to get himself home. Leaving the squalid, one-room living quarters rather swiftly, luckily without running into the young girl with whom he had shared the bed, he now made his way home. 

Trudging along the street and trying to allocate his shirt buttons to match them with the right buttonholes. It was proving a rather difficult manoeuvre without tripping over. When he had finally managed to button his shirt, he lifted his jacket off his arm from where it had been draped and slid his left arm into the sleeve.

With one arm in, Andrew noticed a young lady walking toward him. As she drew closer, he recognised who she was. "Do my eyes deceive me or is dear Suzanne Beausant walking toward me? Has she really missed laying her gaze upon my handsome face that much?", he asked while smiling cockily.

Suzanne stopped walking when she recognised her childhood friend, her face poised. Andrew looked upon her, at her cream-coloured dress with a maroon ribbon tied around her middle. It had been sewn around the dress not tied, under her bustline. Her brunette hair put up under a matching bonnet, and maroon gloves covered her hands.

"Hello there, Andrew." She dropped a curtsy with a smile. "It is nice to see you again after all this time."

He bowed his head, smiling back at her, not as cockily this time. "Yes, it has been a while. You look very beautiful too, you really seemed to have blossomed over these past few years. Here I was thinking that little Miss Georgie would be the one to do so."

Georgie, or Georgette, was Suzanne's younger sister. She had always been the centre of attention, the one whom everyone had fawned over.

Suzanne stated indignantly, "Well, Andrew, you obviously haven't seen Georgie in a while, she is still the most beautiful girl in most towns. With her flawless porcelain skin and dark brown eyes, she could woo any man. I, on the other hand, am a girl with maybe rosy skin, blue eyes, and hair that makes me look as mediocre as imaginable. I am nothing like her."

He looked fondly on her. "Ah, my dear, you clearly need to hold yourself in a higher regard. I am sure she has grown into a beautiful woman indeed. You, well, it is unfair for her to be compared to you. Miss Georgie may steal hearts just with her looks, but she knows this, and her confidence is unflattering, whereas your shy demeanour and inability to see how ravishing you are is most intriguing. Any man who does not see this is a fool."

"In that case, every man is a fool," she insisted with some jest. Then her smile faltered as her eye caught sight of something a short distance behind him. "Excuse me, Andrew, I must leave now. We three came ahead of our parents and it seems they have arrived. I must be off to help them arrange the ball... Oh! I almost forgot to ask, would you and your family be attending the ball tomorrow night? I would much like it."

"You know me, I never liked attending balls. Although I could make an exception. I do enjoy seeing you, as well as those many foolish men who have no clue. So I will see you there, dear Suzanne," he remarked, bowing his head.

As Andrew lifted his head back up from his bow, he saw the shadow of the person walking up behind him. A few seconds later, he knew it to be Laurent, brother to Suzanne. He was her older brother, a man not quite as tall as Andrew. A slender man with slightly fairer hair than his sister. Also, his thin moustache looked good with his pale, square head. "Hello there, Andrew," Laurent greeted him in his usual prim manner. "I'm awfully sorry, as I must steal my sister away, but we will see each other some other day."

"Yes, we will." Andrew nodded to Laurent, then to Suzanne. "And to you too, my dear."

"It was nice to hear from you, Andrew, though as my brother said, we best go. Farewell." Suzanne turned on her heel and the pair walked back the way had just come, heading into Harrogate town. Andrew, too, continued on his journey home.

***

Andrew finally arrived home, late morning, wondering if anyone was home. Either his mother, father, or brother. He poked his head into a few of the downstairs rooms, no one was down there. Upstairs, he peered into the room opposite from his, belonging to one of his brothers. His brother, Jordan, saw him and walked across the room to the door. 

"Hello, little brother, where have you been all night?" A smug grin appeared on Jordan's face following those words. "Have you heard that the Beauseants are back to host a ball? Mamma wants us to go."

Hearing the word little before brother made Andrew cringe. Only a year younger but he was taller than his brother. They were both rather tall with long angular, chiselled faces, and dark almond-shaped eyes. Their hair had a short and straight, yet shaggy look to it, and they were both brunettes, though Jordan's was a darker shade.

Andrew walked across the room and sat down on the unmade bed, leaving Jordan standing by the door. "Just enjoying my manhood," he replied smugly. "Yes, I had heard that too, from Suzanne nevertheless. She has grown into a beautiful woman. Just your sort, Jordan."

Jordan make a tsk sound with his tongue and partially rolled his eyes. "Yes... yes... that's the only reason why I am going, because of Mother and Father."

Andrew paused a moment before sighing, "I suppose our only hope is William, otherwise, we really won't be able to withstand the pressure from Mother and Father." 

William is the youngest of we Danford sons; 18, a year younger than Andrew. He had been away for a while now; becoming a doctor.

"We both know that William will make mother and father happy, he always does," Jordan remarked aggrievedly. "Pity he is still away. At least they are not trying to marry you off." He finally stepped away from the door frame and over to his wardrobe to rifle through it, pulling out a bottle of scotch, which he probably stole for no other reason than for the fun of it. "Would you like some?"

"I am very pleased about that." Still looking gleefully at him until he saw the bottle, raising his eyebrow and silling up straighter. "Always. I never say no to a drink."

Jordan chuckled, sitting down on the bed next to his brother before taking the first swig from the bottle. "Of course you don't."

Andrew reached for the bottle but Jordan didn't budge, so he slid closer to him. "Tell me, what's wrong with always wanting a drink?" He made a grab for the bottle, succeeded, and took a swig of his own.

"It is the perfect way to clear my head, especially with all this marriage talk." 

"It's the perfect way to spend a day. Who cares about marriage talk." Andrew raised the bottle as if to say cheers, then took another small gulp.

"C'mon, the day is still young, what is with all this marriage talk." He took the bottle back, taking another quick gulp.

"Well, I do not mean to return to age 10 but you did start it." Andrew smirked, signalling the tease and hoping for a witty retort.

One was not reciprocated, as Jordan only shrugged. "It is honestly fine, stay as young as you can. As your older brother, I-"

"Only by a year," Andrew cheekily interjected taking the bottle back into his own grasp.

Jordan lifted up that now empty hand and raised finger to him to silence his tongue. "-I can only recommend you stay young for as long as you can. That means no falling in love. Take it from me, follow in my footsteps, despite any protests from Mamma and Papà."

There was a short silence before Andrew spoke again. "If only I could. A much easier time, it was back then. Now we worry about everything, including what Papà should say about our coming home too late or early." He took a large glug of scotch before looking over at his brother. "Speaking of, where did you get to last night?"

"Only went down to the alehouse for a quick drink, then returned home." He stood and walked over to his wardrobe once more, leaving Andrew cradling the bottle. 

Andrew watched Jordan in his peripheral vision. Noticing something of interest to him, he took the bottle in one hand and leaned back on his other to get a better look. There were more bottles of scotch in there. Andrew arched his right brow, gesturing toward the bottles. "How did I not know about this? When will you open to the public? There is a fair amount of money in alcohol." Then he took another swig from the bottle in his hand and drops leaked from the corner of his mouth because of the angle he was leaning. Quickly wiping them up with the back of his bottle-holding hand. 

Jordan only laughed at the comment. "Well, you see, little brother, I will do that when our dearest Mother and Father stop trying to push me into marrying one of the Beausant girls."

"If you are successful then maybe I could help. After all, what is an alehouse without a brothel close by?" A cunning smile forming on Andrew's scotch-soaked lips.

"Ah, I like the way you think, little brother. I can already see the proud faces of our dearest Mother and Father." The little was even more pronounced this time, knowing how much Andrew despised being called little, he wanted to tease him. It was his duty as his older brother, after all. 

It may have been hard, but Andrew refrained from responding to Jordon's taunts, as he knew it was what he wanted. Instead, he took another swig and then replied, "Their faces would be rather entertaining."

"Ah, that it really would be." Jordan stood up straight again, this time trying to find his balance. He had been unsuccessful with whatever he had been trying to find. 

Andrew watched his brother stumble while attempting to tuck in his shirt, then laughed. "I thought you could handle your drink?"

"I can, little brother, don't you worry. It just so happens that I don't feel the particular need to do so right now." He smiled, looking out the window like he was trying to think of something or someone.

Andrew stood up himself, going over to his brother. He patted him on the back, causing Jordan to lose is focus and stumble forward. "Rest assured, brother, you should be able to hold your drink when you're older."

"Yes, yes, very funny," he said dryly. "We should go together soon, to the alehouse." Andrew nodded as Jordan slung his arm around him and they walked out of the room. 

Maybe when you sober up some, Andrew thought to himself.