Fairly Unexpected

Chapter 2: Mr. Crawley's regular rounds

The trouble with keeping Town hours, Marcus Crawley realized, was that the damned birds didn't know to stop waking at first light. Their raucous calls penetrated the sanctity of his bedchamber. He attempted to smother the sounds with a pillow. This did not have the desired effect, and in fact made him feel that he was suffocating. After halfheartedly feigning sleep for a time, Crawley reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and rang for his valet.

"I see you have chosen to greet the dawn this morning sir," Hadley observed dryly as he helped Marcus with his waistcoat and jacket. He glowered mutely while submitting himself to the indignity of being strangled by a neck cloth. Even without the residual effects of overindulgence, he hadn't the patience to stand at attention while Hadley meticulously adjusted each fold. This meant the much-beleaguered valet was forced to use the simplest of knots. 

He scarcely spared a glance in the mirror before leaving his chambers. He already knew what he would see: an unremarkable fellow in a mild state of disarray. He had once overheard himself described as "not un-handsome." Ladies frequently remarked on his eyes, which were an unusual golden-brown color. His nose was perhaps overly-prominent. He had a weak chin. His hair was neither curly nor straight; it just stuck out from his head at all angles. No need to confirm all that by admiring himself at the looking glass.

When Marcus eventually stumbled downstairs it was no surprise to find his brother already halfway through the morning paper looking fit and well rested as ever. Even if Thomas had spent an evening on the Town, the aftereffects were never noticeable. Thomas Crawley, older by ten years, took great care with his appearance and spent a good long while admiring himself every day. 

He had come out ahead in the genetic lottery with looks that caused every woman's eyes to follow him when he entered a room. Ladies swooned when he so much as glanced in their direction. His blue-green eyes held the illusion of warmth and charm. He had a naturally athletic build, with muscles toned by the rugged activities of country living. He looked equally at ease on the estate and in Town, where he now sat at his leisure, surveying Marcus critically and obviously finding his younger brother lacking.

"Morning, Marcus. Looking a bit rough about the edges," Thomas smirked. "You should have my man show Hadley how to properly tie your cravat," his brother said dismissively. "Furthermore, is it too much to ask that you invest in a new coat? Surely I supply you with sufficient living allowance that you needn't be seen forever in... that?"

Marcus glanced down at his coat. He couldn't remember exactly when he had purchased it, but it can't have been that long ago. A season at most. He wasn't wearing the thing out of miserliness, but because it was quite comfortable. The blue wool was a perfectly serviceable garment. It wasn't worn at the seams, the arms were just the right length, it had all its buttons, and fit properly enough to satisfy even Hadley. Although clearly it did not meet Thomas's approval.

Marcus was not precisely careless with his appearance. The real difficulty was maintaining a respectable presentation. No matter Hadley's heroic efforts or Marcus's own feeble attempts, he was unable to keep his clothes from sartorial disaster. Kind but clumsy wallflowers would spill punch on him. He would be splashed with mud by passing carriages— even if there had been no rain for days. 

Once he had managed to be knocked off his feet by a five-year-old escapee in the park and fell all elbows and knees on newly trimmed grass. And even if he were (by some miracle) to escape without a stain, his clothes would manage to tense up into unsightly folds and snag loose threads on table legs. Buttons shook themselves loose at a whim. It was just as well that he wasn't out to impress anyone with his finery.

This was in stark contrast to the ever-elegant Thomas Crawley. As a proper dandy, he made sure to be seen at all the appropriate venues and took great pride in the presentation of all his possessions. His clothing was never out of date, nor was the woman appearing on his arm. He had the latest in fancy carriages drawn by meticulously matched horses that were the envy of all.