Free Mischief by Unknown

Elizabeth asked desperately. He is your son and heir."
    I have only your word for that," Thomas said harshly. For all I know, you slept with half the members of my club."
    He's your son, you bloody bastard. The law will not allow you to deny it."
    I am well aware of that, madam," Thomas said. But one day I shall learn the truth concerning just how badly I was deceived.

    Every man in my family develops a streak in his hair by the age of twenty."
    So will Matthias. You'll see. In the meantime, you cannot ignore him."
    I shall do my duty by him," Thomas vowed. It is past time that Matthias was sent away to school. If he stays in this house a moment longer, you will no doubt bind him to you so tightly with your damned tears and apron strings that he will never become a man."
    You cannot send him away. He is all I have. I will not allow it."
    You have no choice, madam," Thomas had retorted. I have already made the arrangements. His tutor has been dismissed.
    With any luck Eton and Oxford will undo the damage you have tried to inflict."
    School had not been altogether unpleasant. Having spent the first ten years of his life attempting to please his father, Matthias continued the futile effort. He had thrown himself into his studies.
    Thomas had paid little attention to the boy's scholarly successes, but something unusual did occur during those years.
    Unlike the majority of his companions, Matthias had actually
    "
    become enthralled by the classical texts that formed the core of the curriculum. As he grew older they continued to draw him with an inexplicable power. He sensed the secrets hidden deep within them.

    Long, melancholic letters from Elizabeth had kept him informed of her endless complaints about his father's selfish, tight-fisted ways, the house parties she had planned, and her illnesses. Matthias dreaded going home between terms, but he did so because something inside him told him that it was his duty. As the years passed, he saw enough of his mother to realize that between house parties she had begun to treat her depressed spir its with increasing quantities of wine and laudanum.
    The letters from his father had been few and far between. They were concerned primarily with the high cost of Matthias's school expenses and angry diatribes about the relentless financial demands Elizabeth made through the solicitor.
    Elizabeth drowned in an estate pond the winter of Matthias's fourteenth year. The servants said that she had had a great deal of wine at dinner that night and several glasses of brandy afterward.
    She had told her staff that she wished to take an evening walk alone.
    Her death had been declared an accident, but Matthias some times wondered if his mother had committed suicide. Either way, he was doomed to bear a measure of guilt for the rest of his life because he had not been there to save her. His mother would have wanted it that way, he thought wryly.
    He could still see his father standing on the other side of Elizabeth's grave. It was a memorable occasion for many reasons, not the least of which was that Matthias had made his first serious promise to himself that day. He had looked into his father's face and silently vowed that he would never again bother to try to please him. A coldness had settled somewhere inside him that day.
    It had never disappeared.
    Thomas had been blithely unaware of Matthias's mood. He had taken him aside immediately after the funeral and jubilantly announced his intention to wed again. Thomas's relief at being free of Elizabeth and his happy anticipation of his forthcoming nuptials had stood in sharp contrast to the colors of mourning that surrounded them.
    Her name is Charlotte Poole, Matthias. She is lovely and gracious and pure. A noble paragon of womanhood. She will bring me a happiness I have never known."
    How nice for you, sir."
    Matthias had turned on his heel and walked away from his mother's grave. He had known then that her ghost would follow him.
    The letter from