"...I'd be about as likely to do that as to steal something from my own family."
Klaus raised an eyebrow. "Honour among thieves?"
"Heavens, no!" The Earl laughed, turning the shirt over and beginning work on the back of it. "I wouldn't have any qualms about stealing from my fellow thieves. Just my family - or what's left of it." His eyes clouded briefly, but Klaus, standing behind him, heard only the usual light tone. For some reason, it annoyed him - but then, so many things about the Earl did that. Letting sarcasm colour his own voice for the first time that afternoon, he observed, "One might almost believe that you had feelings."
The Earl turned to look at him. "You wound me," he said in his offhand way, but this time Klaus could see the truth of Dorian's words in his expression.
"I'm sorry," he offered, and meant it. The Earl nodded acceptance; still, the look in his eyes unmistakably said, 'You said it; that was enough.'
So while I was trying to remember that, I dropped a vase - a horribly ugly vase, but still saleable until that glorified Barbie doll over there ~points~ made me drop it.
I would write about why my dad's a bastard again, but I really can't be bothered. I'm too happy - exasperated, but still happy.