Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 21:
Mr. Stone reflected upon his life as he rode the countryside with the others. Beautiful women such as Lady Blakemore always had that sort of effect upon men, he assumed, turning their minds to the contemplation of marriage, settling down, and children.
Laughing to himself, he was amused at the image of himself as a devoted husband and father. He could be quite humorous sometimes. Again, he was diverted as her image returned to his mind, his mouth watering at the thought of kissing her soft, delicate shoulders. Lady Blakemore’s fiery temper tantalized him…just the right qualities in a lover, he thought.
Returning to his previous thoughts, memories flooded his cankered heart as he remembered his own father. Abusive, hateful, drunken, slothful; these were only a few of the words that came to his mind in reflecting upon this hated individual. His face grew dark and angry with the memories of his father beating his beloved mother who always tried her best to protect her children from his violent hand.
His two older sisters, younger brother, and he had always dreaded their father’s return from his drunken escapades. They would all be so happy—briefly—while he was gone, knowing his return would only bring pain and grief, having spent what little wages he earned on spirits, and then questioning why his wife could not provide a kinder welcome and better meals for him upon his return. He could almost recall the stench that was his father.
The ugly cruelty he grew up with was beyond conscience, and he had become numb to the affects, learning survival was all that mattered. Running away by the age of eleven, he had never returned. Not knowing what had become of his two sisters or his little brother, all he had come to care about was his own full belly and satisfied needs. Learning to take what he wanted, if given half a chance, he had done well by these methods.
Thievery had been his only recourse, having no food or shelter. Quickly, he became good at it, enjoying the exhilaration he felt while pilfering. He learned that people trusted his innocent face, and he swiftly took advantage of this knowledge.
Having observed how others had good occupations that provided steady-enough income, he determined he would much rather have suitable living conditions, food and drink, rather than not, on a very regular basis. As he satisfied his first most basic needs, he began to hire himself out, saving his wages in various locations, as well as the results of his burglaries. His stealthy ingeniousness had brought him great rewards and many business partners.
As he grew older, he found he had saved much of his resources, and found opportunities to invest them in legitimate ventures. Finding himself able to mix more and more with higher society than he had come from, he even adapted as best he could their language, manners, and dress, all copied to the last detail. Even tutors had been hired to this end.
He had become a master of deception.
Determined to fit into the very best of families, he, therefore, created opportunities for his benefit. Upon doing so, he had stumbled upon his most profitable venture thus far. Rubbing his hands together, he thought no man could be happier. Now, many years later, he lived the life he had only dreamed possible all those years ago.
Now nearing his fortieth year, he smiled a satisfied smile when he thought of all he had accomplished in his short lifetime. Briefly, an image of his mother’s sweet countenance appeared before him, a look of disappointment upon her lovely, yet scarred face, at his unwholesome activities. Feeling a twinge of guilt, he only allowed himself this for a moment when he thought of all the legitimate business he also conducted. Knowing his mother would never have approved of his choice of lifestyle, he figured she was not here to say anything.
Sometimes he had been surprised at his coldness in dealing with his fellowman, or in most cases, fellow-woman, but figured he had inherited this attribute from his father’s well-demonstrated example of manhood.
Sniffing quickly, wiping at his perspiring brow, impatient to be done with these depressing memories, he whipped at his horse brutally, kicking its hind quarters to speed his journey onward as he began again to think on more appealing thoughts; that of the lovely Lady Blakemore.
A wicked man. What is his significance? Read on...
Ellise
