Action, Reaction, Satisfaction

This state of perpetual reaction to the foibles of my darling cousin is wearing thin as I am in essence a man of action and so I feel the need to return to my natural state. I did so by attaining the satisfaction of a successful outcome of my first agenda of the day, I made certain that copies of keys to all new locks in my Aunts domicile arrive safely in my pocket. While I am happy to oblige Lucinda with her little charade and in fact look forward to the enterprising mayhem she plans for me, nothing will prevent me from achieving my objective, my birthright is ownership of all Dubois women, including this vexatious minx.

I spent the remainder of the day tending to my business as I have made the Dubois affair the business of my elegant but wayward sister. I informed her that it was time for her take her rightful place as the leader of social niceties in this town, our town and that the Vanderhag has usurped her position for the last time. I expected the gala to welcome Minxie into our household to leave the hoi polloi without doubt of the natural superiority of any Dubois event. Liselle despite appearing emotionally colourless can effortlessly conjure up grace and beauty at whim. I demand no less for my own affair, allowing her to see the steel of my determination for nothing, absolutely nothing besides the machinations of my beloved vixen will be permitted to interfere. I know Minxie is bound to do something naughty, I am hoping she will for to conquer without struggle is a poor triumph but to render a victory while your victim is seething with emotion is a sweet tangle of desires. Her hate and my lust will clash into an eruption that will sear our union onto the heavens themselves. The thought of Minxie caused the hot syrup of desire to seep through my muscles and I found a little kitten imprudent enough to be caught gossiping on the phone instead of working so I dragged her back to my office and put her painted mouth to a much more useful employ.

I was enjoying the aftermath of Minxie fantasy when the irritating jangle of the phone thrust me from my reverie into the problematic situation of refraining from reaction yet again. My informant, the usual type of minion, sly, untrustworthy, willing to betray at the drop of a hat, perfect type of creature to be my eyes within the town, revealed that the eldest son, the incorruptible Braith had driven off with a somewhat reluctant Minxie. If it had been any other I would have arranged an instant intercept, spirited the offender away and flayed the skin off his body inch by inch until he would be no more than dust upon the winds. I had no fear of Braith foisting himself as an unwanted suitor upon Minxie. His purity, his noble essence was well known to me, even from our days at university, I knew of the puerile decency suffered by Braith Vanderhaven.

He has been one of those who glowed throughout life, physical and personal, Braith is the golden boy of Bishop Vale. Nothing amused me more than to destroy the illusions others had of him, even if I had to create a new truth for him but Braith in reality is possessed of an integrity that would have made him an excellent martyr or monk. Although my little wedding drama could have induced the latter, at least that would be the prevailing thought until he had the bad manners to abscond with my precious. I had wished for the battle of Minxie to evolve into a situation of action and ultimately satisfaction but here I am yet again prisoner of myself, a prisoner of reaction. Losing the battle, I called down to the garage for my car, as there are some things a man has to see to himself.

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