My Kidnapper Wears a Feather in His Hair

Chapter 6

*** Howdy ya'll! Well I just wrote this and came to a good pausing point and so I wanted to post it while I moved on. Hope this little blurb of a cliff hanger is up to ya'lls standards for this novel!***

One Week Later

The sun shone brightly on the bright marble steps leading up to the Corinthian columns that towered above any visitor to the house. The front was a white brocade of marble and glistening white stone stacked three stories tall and would have covered the width of an entire block, if the house had been erected in a city. The house, the owner thought, would be too grand to be intermingled with shoddy city buildings. Nor could a city have held the 100,000 acres of gardens filled with roses, lilacs, lilies, authentic Greek fountains, topiaries, or the tennis courts, hunting grounds, and stable that could have claimed the jealousy of many an English Duke or Parisian Prince. The owner of such a house had the airs of any self-made man who thought he was entitled to a world of perfection in which he wouldn’t be bothered by trifling societal issues, and instead could bask in the comforts of his every wish without running into the undesirable people he had even once not been good enough for.

On a day such as this, the owner could be found taking a stroll through the gardens. During these walks, the servants and staff were instructed to be out of sight, not to come out until their employer had retired into his study. And it was with good cause to keep out of his way, the servants learned. He was a large fellow with a face of a much younger man, which could be called delightful to those unfamiliar with his true nature. The servants, however, knew of is sour temper and foul disposition, both of which led to his cruel way of dealing with things unpleasant to him. When in such a state, his face, in social events quite pleasing, turned into something almost demonic. His eyebrows, well shaped, crossed the line which separated them on his forehead and knit into one. His nose, naturally quite large, flared its nostrils. The mouth, under a well groomed mustache, pinched into a straight line, hiding his thin lips from view. His head shrunk into his shoulders and his fingers curled into fists. He grew six feet and altogether became quite red with agitation, not unlike a spoilt child or a laborer after a day in the sun. The entire effect spooked those around him, and the servants learned it was better to comply to his whims than to arouse the beast.

Today, he walked through his garden, inspecting the flowers and fountains, gently placing a large hand onto a bloom as he passed. For all of his inner ugliness, he loved beautiful things and ensured he was surrounded by things pleasing to the senses. When the sounds of a commotion inside the house reached his ears, he winced.

No sooner had he opened his mouth to call for the butler, a Mr. Hadley, had the desired party stepped onto the terrace.

“Mr. Weldingston, a situation has occurred in your, er, affairs.” 

Mr. Weldingston walked into his study and sat down behind the large wooden desk. He did this slowly, as he did with all things that tested his patience. When he finally looked up at the three men standing before him, they were still breathing hard. They looked ragged and weather-worn; it was clear they had not had proper sleep or nourishment for a few days. He looked to Hadley, who nodded and walked out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

“Now, gentlemen.” He began. “You are obviously exerted, starved, tired, and fowler than a barn. Care telling me why you have demanded my attention while in such a state?”

The riders were still panting hard. A balding man whose hair seemed to have relocated to his chin seemed to regain himself faster than his companions, and so began to speak.