Byron Tarleton:
My father was a very charming man, and my mother was married to Rupert Tarleton, a man of considerably less charm. To the world, I was Rupert Tarleton's son and as such addressed him as Father; within the household, it was never pretended that I was anything other than a vivid reminder of his wife's infidelity.
He - Father - locked the door against me forever when I was sixteen. I suppose the fact that he'd caught me in an indelicate situation with his most recent mistress might have had something to do with that. It was his endless succession of mistresses that had left my mother vulnerable to the sweet seduction of he who'd sired me. I've never met him, but my mother would console me as a child with stories of my real father, her voice fondly wistful. She always said I'd inherited his looks and charm; Father always said I'd come to a bad end.
I met Victor when he was after a confidence artist, some scurvy fellow who cheated a pretty lady out of her family jewels, and her honour. I aided him in solving that case, or at least recovering the pretty lady's jewels. Her honour was beyond rescue. Considering I had taken both, I was in a unique position to be of assistance.
I found it rather fun to set Victor after his own tail, he being quite unaware that I was the villain he sought. But he proved more clever than I far sooner than I anticipated. However instead of turning me over to the authorities, he offered me employment, with conditions. One, I must return the jewels. Two, I must confine my powers of persuasion to the requirements of the agency. Three, I must confess all my previous misdeeds to diffuse potential blackmail threats. I personally believe he wanted to hear about all the other lovely ladies whom I'd convinced to bestow upon me their ... treasures.
Bright enough to realize that continuing my present course would inevitably lead to that bad end predicted by my mother's husband, I accepted.
He - Father - locked the door against me forever when I was sixteen. I suppose the fact that he'd caught me in an indelicate situation with his most recent mistress might have had something to do with that. It was his endless succession of mistresses that had left my mother vulnerable to the sweet seduction of he who'd sired me. I've never met him, but my mother would console me as a child with stories of my real father, her voice fondly wistful. She always said I'd inherited his looks and charm; Father always said I'd come to a bad end.
I met Victor when he was after a confidence artist, some scurvy fellow who cheated a pretty lady out of her family jewels, and her honour. I aided him in solving that case, or at least recovering the pretty lady's jewels. Her honour was beyond rescue. Considering I had taken both, I was in a unique position to be of assistance.
I found it rather fun to set Victor after his own tail, he being quite unaware that I was the villain he sought. But he proved more clever than I far sooner than I anticipated. However instead of turning me over to the authorities, he offered me employment, with conditions. One, I must return the jewels. Two, I must confine my powers of persuasion to the requirements of the agency. Three, I must confess all my previous misdeeds to diffuse potential blackmail threats. I personally believe he wanted to hear about all the other lovely ladies whom I'd convinced to bestow upon me their ... treasures.
Bright enough to realize that continuing my present course would inevitably lead to that bad end predicted by my mother's husband, I accepted.
Copyright 2013 Sydney Blackburn