Back in Mystic Falls

7. Toy Train

Pairing: Elijah/Damon-Stefan (M/mm) hand, ruler

Mystic Falls, Virginia

Mikaelson Guest House

Wednesday, June 6, 1855

Reginald Smith had only been a tutor for two weeks. Before his family fortunes fell, he had dreams of attending "the University of the South": the University of Virginia. But since his father's gambling debts absorbed any hopes of him attending college, he set his hopes on a rich wife. Miss Rebekah Mikaelson fit that ticket, he smoothed his fine brown mustache and waltzed into the house like he owned the place. Reginald was not a tall man, but he felt his large intellect made up for his short stature.

"Mr. Smith here for tutoring, if you please," Reginald informed the maid who opened the door. She was a pretty thing, but he spared her no gaze. A poor girl would get him no where. With his brains and ambition, he could run the Commonwealth if he only had a bit of coin again.

"Very well, sir. The young masters await you in the study," the lass said directing him towards the first floor study.

"Is the Mistress here? Miss Rebekah?" Reginald asked casually looking around. Although they claimed this was a temporary lodging, the furnishings were all European and very fine. Reginald wondered how much the silk carpet they stood on cost.

"No, sir. The Mistress has stepped out for the afternoon," the maid replied.

"Oh," Reginald said. "At least I can catch up on my sleep..." He had spend the night gambling and whoring in town last night. The was the another vice he had inherited from his father besides a love of cards, a penchant for the ladies. And not the free wenches either. Like his father, any winnings he won went to prostitutes and Reginald had fallen deep into debt himself.

"What was that, sir?" The maid pressed.

"Nothing! I said I will catch up with her later. She asked me about an old family recipe for an old custard our cook used to make called Bird's Nest Pudding. She thought the boys would like it since they like apples so much," Reginald covered his slip up, following her into the study.

"Mr. Smith," Damon stood seeing the tutor walk in.

"Hello, boys. I trust you completed all the lessons I set for you?" Reginald said sleepily. The day was warm and the open window provided no breeze.

"Yes, sir," Damon said elbowing Stefan, who was gazing out the window.

"Ah, yes, sir," Stefan blurted out although he had not heard the question.

"Well then, I brought you some new books. You may began quietly as I mark your lessons. I shall sit over here on the couch," Reginald said yawning. "Your guardians are not present today?"

"No, sir. They had business in town. The house should be quiet," Damon shared innocently. He smiled at Stefan. He gave Mr. Smith ten minutes before he was slumped over the lessons fast asleep.

Indeed, ten minutes later, the young tutor was snoring over the unmarked lessons. Stefan giggled.

"I am going to tell the coachman that I was sent to fetch something from home, I mean, Veritas. You stay here and watch him. If he wakes, tell him that I am in the privy, sick. I shall return with your blasted train," Damon whispered.

"Be careful, Damon," Stefan replied.

"Oh, now you are worried? Just pray that this fool does not wake up," Damon patted Stefan on the shoulder and quickly went out to the coach.

"Ah, Mr. Wilson, I need to go back to Veritas Estates and fetch something. Can you drive me?" Damon asked the older man politely.

"Of course, young master. Let me assemble the team. Less than ten minutes, if you please. Meet ya right here," Mr. Wilson said sending the ostler to gather the horses.