Henrietta

Mother Figure

~Chapter Two~

It was beyond his understanding why his wife had wanted such an awkward, wafted mind, around her all the time. Sadly, Henry had inherited his mother's likeness for such maids as Henrietta. His gaze swept over Ettie, inspecting her image from head to toe. She was far too slender for his taste and held nothing of appeal in appearance. Her skin complexion by miracle was a tan quality, russet hair that was interlaced into a tress, which revealed to be straight as strings of hair spilled at the side of her temples.

The maid before him held not a smile to Lydia's likeness, a beauty to be held above all the women in Theodosia. After having been absent from a woman's touch for nearly six years Calvin soon began to wonder how he had managed. Deep down he knew the affection he felt for his wife was what had kept his urges in check.

Forgotten to be exact.

Many of the men in Theodosia who had lost their wives to child bearing had taken Mistresses; others simply made their way to the whorehouse every now and then. Unlike them, Calvin had chosen to stay away from it all. There was no telling what kind of diseases those women carried. He simply could not bear the thought of having lain with a woman who had many lovers warm her bed in one night. It had been so long since he had given thought to such carnal desires.

"Master Potent, I'm certain young Henry is ready for today's lesson?" his tutor asked.

His stomach knotted for a fraction of a second as he realized he had trailed off. He could not bear with the thought that Mr. Horace might point it out to him. There was simply no room for mistakes. Calvin pushed aside all thought's and reached his hand forward, shaking the man's hand in a firm grip. Mr. Horace was a rather stout man, jolly to be exact, and the only man Calvin trusted to teach his son the ways of a gentleman.

Recommended by no other than his father, Calvin took pride in knowing his son was being taught by the best. There was a reputation to behold for the family name and those future generations to come. Calvin would never allow Henry to grow up a dimwit.

"As always Mr. Horace, I will observe from afar." Calvin replied.

Suddenly Henry rushed from his tutor's side and into Henrietta's arms. It made Calvin's stomach coil to no end to see his son lower himself before the help. He was displaying affection for a servant! Curling his hands into fists Calvin fought to control his anger as he addressed his son.

"Take your seat." He demanded.

Henry's gaze darkened as he turned over his shoulder to look at his father, and then brought his attention back to Henrietta. He observed as the servant wiped her cheek and pressed a timid shy smile on her face while looking down to his son. Henry simply squeezed her hand tightly paying no mind to his father's orders. He watched bewildered to see his son show compassion upon a lowly servant, never had Calvin considered ever learning their names. However, Henry had persist the he learned Henrietta's name, as if she were someone special.

Henrietta, the name was awful. Such name would never be bestowed upon the higher class. Only peasants named their children in a miserable manner.

"Henry," Calvin said. This time his maid urged Henry in the direction of his desk and with a trivial pout he submitted and sauntered towards his chair in a wilting position. This displeased Calvin, for he had always made certain that such sentiments remained kept in check.

"Shall we proceed?" Mr. Horace said, a smile still plastered on the man's face.

"Very well." Henry muttered, under his breath.

Calvin unclenched his hands and took a deep breath as he retreated to the far end of the room. Gathering in his hands a novel, he forced his rigid posture to find comfort in the claret settee. Everything grew silent, only the faint muttering of his son and Mr. Horace lingered in the room.