He should’ve taken a switch to her behind long ago, but he never could bring himself to do it. And he’d once found such joy in her antics. How could you punish a child when you’d laughed yourself silly at whatever mischief she’d got up to? But this was going too far, even for the stubborn as a mule little tyrant.
Okay in all fairness he hadn’t told her about the new arrangements until last night, at which point she’d thrown a tantrum the likes of which he’d not seen since she was two years old. Then she’d brained him with the coffee pot and taken off for parts unknown.
* * *
Young Mr. Stanford didn’t say anything more, just climbed the steps and entered the house. Old Silas followed close on his heels not sure what to do, but his anxiety climbed with each step until he almost choked on the apprehension that was fast growing in his gut.
“You’re not thinking I hid her are you?”
“No.” That was all the answer the younger man gave before walking down the hallway like he’d been there a thousand times instead of never having set foot in the place before. For some strange reason he stopped under the trapdoor that led up to the old attic.
No one had been up there in years; in fact Silas had almost forgotten it was there. But young master Stanford used his nose like a bloodhound sniffing the air, and that is where he stopped.
Reaching up from his great height the young man pulled the door down and that’s how old Silas found out where his little Alyssa was hiding, when a barrage of missiles came flying across the musky, cobwebbed space above their heads.
“Alyssa this is your master speaking, get down here now.”
“Drop dead asshole.” Silas thought they were done for-for sure. They’d be run out of town if they were lucky to survive the consequences of his daughter’s acid tongue.
He was ready to throw himself at the young man’s feet and beg his mercy, but then the boy did the strangest thing. Instead of getting angry and throwing out threats like old Silas expected, he threw his head back and laughed.
From up the rickety stairs came a mumbled, “Well shit.”
1
Master Brax
* * *
Hmm, looks like I’ll have my hands full with this one. No matter, part of the fun was in the training and I’m damn good at it. I could feel the fear pouring off the old man as he followed behind me.
It was no secret that men of a higher standing in our society took liberties with those of a lesser birth. In all rights I could have him arrested or flogged, any number of things. As a member of high society I was not to be affronted by anyone.
I knew the older man, Silas Dorian was his name, had no idea how I came to find his name or to even hear of his existence before I’d summoned him. He’d been too excited at the prospects of what my money would mean for him, not to mention the girl’s well being, to ask too many questions the one and only time we’d met.
The truth is I’d long heard of the girl. One day the servants were discussing the high-strung beauty whose father supposedly let her run wild and what a horrible end she’d come to yet.
I’d never seen her before for all that we lived a mere short distance apart. Her father had obviously once been a man of means, and I guess to keep his daughter from the dregs of society, he had put whatever monies he had left into maintaining their present dwelling and not much else.
I wouldn’t have given the overheard stories too much thought had it not been for the next words that came out of the kitchen from the cook’s son Shamus. The young man had let it be known that there was a group of toughs who had planned something rather sinister for the young girl.
It was a well-known fact that predators roamed the streets of major cities and little suburban enclaves, snatching young girls and selling them into prostitution. Apparently one of these factions had designs on this Dorian girl.
Being who I am I couldn’t let such a thing happen, no. My first intention was to give the girl’s father a warning. But that was before the day I left to go see him in his humble home and came across a most spectacular sight.
There’s a stream on the riverbed between their place and mine. Not many walk there in the daytime. People are too busy making a living to enjoy much leisure time in life these days, except for the wealthy of course. But we preferred our indoor heated pools to wading in what amounted these days to little more than a swamp.