7
	A light in the window of the large dining room meant that his father had already made it home and was waiting for him.  Richard walked up the hill to his father’s house as slowly as he dared, and he kicked lumps of snow off of the sides of the walk.  Marcus had scared off three gardeners in the last year and now they had no one to keep the place tidy.  Michael trudged beside him, hands jammed deep in the pockets of his coat because he couldn’t afford any gloves.  Richard always felt embarrassed when Michael came home with him.  Michael, who lived like most of the people in Jaspertree, shared a cramped apartment with his sister, her sons, and four other people.  Richard shared a twenty room mansion with his father, and they both lived in separate wings and only saw each other at mealtimes.  Before his father had gotten cheap with his money, the only other people who had seen the inside of the mansion were the cook and the House girls Marcus had sometimes brought over.
	“You don’t need to come in.  Dad’s going to be angry and he’s probably already drunk,” he said.
	“Which is exactly why I should.  You can tell him it was my fault.  I was the one who suggested we go out for supper,” Michael said.
	He had paid for the meal, too, since Richard had spent all of his money on the necklace for Jessamine.  They'd stood outside of the Silver Street House for half an hour, blowing on their fingers while they avoided looking at each other, until Michael had taken him by the hand and led him down to the closest bar for a meal.
	“I should have gone in,” Richard said.
	“Next time.  Wait until she has a day off, and ask then.  She might like being treated like a real person for a change, you know,” Michael said.
	They stopped for a moment in the shadow of a tall oak for a goodnight kiss.  Michael pulled Richard's head down and held on to him until they had to break for a breath.
	“You don't need her.  You have me,” said Michael.
	“Things aren't that simple.  I thought you understood that,” Richard said.
	“You're Marcus's son.  If he loves you as much as I do, he'll understand,” Michael said.
	“To my father, the worth of a son is in how many grandsons he can get,” Richard said.
	Michael took his arms from around Richard's neck and he tugged Richard's shirt straight again.
	“Is being Marcus Keppler's son worth being miserable all your life?” he said.
	The house was surrounded by a wooden wraparound porch with a tough wire screen to keep unwanted visitors out.  There was a heavy wooden door in the west end, which was set on a spring so that it would slap shut with a noise that could be heard anywhere in the house.  The porch itself might as well have been a nightingale floor, the way the boards creaked.  No matter how lightly Richard walked on it, his father always knew when he came home.
	They snuck in anyway, because it was expected of them.  Marcus would still be angry, but he would be angrier if Richard didn’t at least try.  Marcus expected him to have that much pride in himself, anyway.  that didn’t make him feel any better when the front door opened while they were still five feet away.  Marcus came out on the porch barefoot, in the tattered old denim pants and the shirt that was too large for him which he only wore when he was at home.  He had a cup of coffee in his hands and Richard could smell the whiskey in it, but he didn't think his father was too drunk just yet.
	“If you’re going to go wandering around the city after dark, you ought to at least take a gun,” Marcus said.
	“The criminals all have guns, too, and they're better shots than me,” Richard said.
	Marcus bared his teeth at him.  Richard's refusal to learn how to fight was a sore point between them.
	“You're too soft, boy.  What will you do when the bastards come for you and you have nowhere to hide?” Marcus said.
	“I have friends,” Richard said.
Marcus snorted and gave Michael a doubtful look, but Michael just gave him a polite smile in return, which was his usual response to anything Marcus did.  Marcus snorted again, and pushed the door open for them.  Richard hurried through, eager to be out of the cold, but he turned back when Michael didn't follow him. Marcus dropped his arm in front of the boy to stop him coming in.
“Some friends,” Marcus said.
Michael flattened his ears back against his head and he returned Marcus's glare without blinking.
“Would you die for my son?” Marcus said.
“I would kill for him,” Michael said.
Marcus stood in the door for a minute longer, then he dropped his arm and waved Michael inside.
A fire had been lit in the front drawing room and the heat of it made Richard gasp for breath.  A pair of high-backed leather chairs sat close to the hearth and a cup of coffee sat on the spindly wooden table between them.  Marcus pushed them towards the chairs, and vanished into the kitchen.
“I really ought to go home before it’s too late,” Michael said.
“It was too late the moment you came through the door.  Just sit tight and keep close to me.  He’s got something on his mind,” Richard said.
“I know.  But I couldn't abandon you now,” Michael said.
Marcus came back with a third cup of coffee and a flask of whiskey which he put down on the table.  Her poured a generous measure of whiskey into each mug and he took a long pull straight from the flask itself.  Then he turned to face Richard and held out his hand.
“Give me what you have in your pocket,” he said.
“I don’t have anything,” Richard said.
“You bought that little whore a sapphire necklace.  You're as sentimental as you are stupid, but you could at least have done it properly.  Her eyes are brown, boy.  Garnet would have been a better choice, or tiger’s eye,” Marcus said.
“You know who I was with?” Richard said.
That was a mistake, and when his father smirked at him he had to pull the box out of his pocket and surrender it.  Marcus set the box on the table and pulled out the little sapphire by its chain.  It spun and glittered in the firelight and Richard thought it looked prettier now than it had in the cold light of the store.
“It wasn’t a difficult guess.  Great God in Heaven, boy, did nothing I tried to teach you sink in?  You don't ask anybody about a House girl, except her Madame, and you never talk about it afterward.  You don't know who might hear you,” Marcus said.
“As if it makes a difference.  If I'd asked Elizabeth, she'd just have told you, anyway,” Richard said.
“Yes, she would.  And I would have told her to give you anything you wanted.  You're a Keppler, boy.  We don't pay for anything we don't have to,” Marcus said.
Marcus held the stone up and let it spin in the air between them.  The stone's chain and setting were silver and they sparkled brightly in the firelight.
“Next time, you tell Elizabeth to let you have a girl on the House.  Try two at once, it's a lot more fun that way,” Marcus said.
“You don’t mind?” Richard said.
“I went every day when I was your age, and sometimes more.  Just don’t be stupid enough to let yourself feel anything for the girls there.  Especially when they're fourteen years older than you are.  I know Jessamine is pretty, but she'll cut your heart out if you give her a chance and she won't think twice about it,” Marcus said.
Marcus wrapped the chain up and put the necklace back into the box.  Richard was afraid that he might take it away, but he didn’t.  He put it back on the table and left it there.
“I bought you that wolf for your birthday.  You aren’t bored with her already, are you?” Marcus said.
“I don’t want her.  I don’t want a girl who isn’t free, who doesn’t have a choice,” Richard said.
“Nonsense.  She cost a thousand dollars, and it’s costing me five hundred more to get her trained up for you.  She'll be worth every penny, too.  Why do you want to go chasing after some slave, instead?” Marcus said.
“It’s like hunting.  It’s more fun to go out and track them down in the wild, than to buy them at the store,” Michael said.
Richard had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out.  Nobody he knew hated the Houses as much as Michael did.
“You only think that because you don’t have a choice, but crawling in the muck isn’t dignified and it isn't fit for my son.  This girl is a purebred,” Marcus said.
“She isn’t an animal.  You can’t just put a collar around her neck and expect her to lick your fingers,” Richard said.
Marcus just pushed the box to the edge of the table.
“You’ll see,” he said.
Richard grabbed the necklace and thrust it back in his pocket.
“Jess isn't like the others.  I don’t care what you think of her, she's something special,” he said.