Authors: Astrid Yrigollen
He justified his behavior to his father who spoke to him with concern.
“Do what you will Kurten, but make some sort of practice of discretion. I know you have already visited the doctor several times in this last year with maladies of the unmentionable type.”
“It’s this girl’s fault Father! She gives me no quarter! I wish to marry her but I have not even kissed her or held her hand. I feel as though I shall burst if I do not have her.” His father had frowned and looked upon the papers at his desk.
“You have been going there every Sunday for the past year but still no agreement or understanding has been made? Does this girl not love you Kurten?” Kurten hung his head down.
“No, she does not love me and I think she may not even like me, but I must have her Father!”
“Then why bother with her? There are plenty of other women in St. Marhen that I know would consider your attentions an honor.”
“Because I want no one else! She has gotten under my skin, I wake up and see her face before me, I go to sleep and she is the last thing I think about. No one else in this city can compare to her.”
“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this young woman. I have always taught you that if you want something, you take it. If you cannot take it outright, then you must use other means to obtain your prize. We do not know if it’s the parents or the girl herself who bars your progress. In order to find out we must remove some players from this game. For that is all it is my son, a game.”
“What do you mean remove some players?” Kurten inherited his father’s dead small eyes and now his own eyes looked back at him. The mayor knew Claren’s reputation and her family well enough to know that they would not push their daughter into marriage. They might tolerate his son’s regular visits while looking for someone they thought more suitable. Then his son would be left out in the cold and made to look like a fool. He could not have that. Claren herself seemed to have no desire to marry Kurten or else she would have seized upon the chance a year ago, Mayor’s son or not. He also knew that when chinks of a chain were removed one by one, it made the chain weaker. He was going to help his son get what he wanted by removing all the chinks until only one remained by herself.
“I mean in everything, life, business and love you have to be ruthless and willing to do anything to get what you want. Are you willing Kurten to do anything to have this young woman?”
Kurten nodded slowly in response, a feeling of satisfaction growing inside of him. Kurten never spoke to his father regarding Claren again. When the news came out that both her parents were killed in a boating accident, he silently thanked his father. He knew that Claren was his for the taking.
Of course he never expected what occured after the funeral to happen. He had not realized how much he had wanted to claim her for himself. That afternoon he felt that even though her parents were newly dead, she herself had moved farther out of his grasp. His anger and lust drove his actions, but he failed in even that. She had made short work of his knee and her beast had made short work of part of his face. Several surgeries later he still had a limp to his walk and a scar on his face. He buried his anger and nursed his hate towards Claren. He stopped going to the gambling houses and chose instead to devote himself entirely to the destruction of the only girl he had ever loved.
Hiring a team of private investigators he quickly found the boarding houses in which she had stayed at following her flight from St. Marhen. From there he was able to find the driver in North Alcott that worked for one Mr. Brighton.
When he first found out who it was Claren had been taken in by, he blanched. What was Brighton playing at?
He had first met Mr. Brighton a few months before the deaths of Claren’s parents. On a night with three bottles of liquor under his belt and in the negative in cards at the local gambling house, a stranger approached him. Through alcohol flavored belches he could see that this stranger
Did not belong there.
Was rich.
The stranger required a private room in which to discuss his business with Kurten. As it turned out, all he wanted was information, information about Claren.
“I know you are frequently a guest at this girl’s house.”
Mr. Brighton had said while sliding a photo of Claren towards Kurten. When Kurten saw the photo he immediately thought to himself,
“This old coot better not want my Claren or I’ll give him a rap on the beak.”
“What I want is information about her and her family. Anything, no matter how inconsequential you may think it is, I want to hear it. I am prepared to pay you handsomely for your services.”
“Of course you will, but what do you want it for?” Kurten asked, never one to let love get in the way of money.
“What I want it for is my business. Will you or will you not do as I ask?” It took a split second for Kurten to make up his mind. He wanted to make sure he kept this old mark around so that he could squeeze as much money as he could out of him.
“You have yourself a deal as long as the payment is adequate.”
“It will be more than adequate for you.” The older man had said.
Kurten had not been able to deliver much information to Mr. Brighton, yet the older man still continued to pay him for weekly reports. That is, until Claren’s parents died.
When Kurten was well enough from his surgeries, he had gone back to the gambling house where he had first met the mysterious Mr. Brighton. He was sure that Mr. Brighton would have known what had happened to him. All of St. Marhen was in an uproar about it. His father, the mayor, had made a good show of it all, painting Claren out to be a seductress that wanted Kurten, but when he refused her, she attacked him and fled. Of course, anyone who knew the Mayors son knew these were all lies to save face. Everyone knew that Kurten had been faithfully going to visit Claren for a year, yet there were still no talk of marriage from the girl’s side. Apparently now that Claren had fled, Mr. Brighton had no need for his services and they would not be meeting again.
It was blind chance that made him stumble across Claren coming out of the shop. He had been on his way to the bank to make a withdrawal when she had bumped in to him. Like a dog who is given a bone for the first time, Kurten was not exactly sure what he was going to do with her. He could tell by her eyes she was frightened by him and that excited him as he drug her in to the alley. Of course he himself never expected to be attacked while he attempted to assault Claren for the second time. Before Kurten was knocked unconscious, he recognized the gray, pristine glove of one Mr. Brighton, balled into a fist as it connected to his nose.
Kurten awoke as the street sweepers began their early morning route. He had slept in the alley the whole night. While this was nothing new to him, sleeping in an alley was usually preceded by a night of vigorous drinking and merry making. Since Claren had gone, he had neither drunk nor made merry. This fact made him even sourer as he touched his decidedly broken nose. He wiped the dried blood off of his cheek and stood up shakily. Kurten walked home in the early morning light making a mental list of the steps he further needed to take for revenge.
When Kurten had rung at the address in North Alcott it was Mary, the young servant girl, who had opened the door. He had expected to find Mr. Brighton at home, so he had brought a small pistol with two bullets. Mary informed him that neither Mr. Brighton nor Lilly his secretary were at home. Kurten’s mind seized upon the idea of this mysterious “Lilly” and deducted that there was a good chance it was none other than Claren herself. Kurten retired for the night but made sure to find the local rough house. For a spot of coin and a bottle of booze, he paid to have a piece of paper put on a body. The paper, written in a quivering hand, held one word.
Claren.
It was his idea to shake Claren up, she would surely hear about the murder and he wanted her to be terrified when he got to her. When the time was right, he once again packed his pistol and returned to the brownstone. This time the same young house maid opened the door but informed him that Mr. Brighton had quit the North Alcott brownstone with his secretary, Lilly. She did not offer anything more than that. Sidestepping his almost insurmountable disappointment, Kurten sized Mary up in two seconds. She was a naïve young girl of low birth who did not have any sense. Just the type girl of Kurten liked to get to know, he wasted no time in dating Mary. He rented a room in a nearby boarding house, the very same one Claren had stayed in. Every night he went to see Mary sparing no expense. He brought flowers, chocolates and stuffed animals, all the silly things that women liked. At first she was tight lipped about Mr. Brighton and he made sure not to press her to much at first. Gradually though, her defenses came down and she told him all she knew about her employer. Kurten hung on being kind to the girl which was out of character for him. Her accent alone gave him the strong desire to cuff her across the face. But still he waited for the one piece of information that he needed to continue his search. The private investigators he had hired were no longer turning up any information on Mr. Brighton, so he discharged them. It was as if when he left North Alcott with Claren, he simply vanished.
When Mary finally told him that Mr. Brighton had an estate in Hartsford, he knew that was the next piece of the puzzle he needed. That very night Kurten packed up and went home to plan the next part of his journey. Mary, poor girl that she was had no idea how close she had come to being chewed up and spit out. She cried in to her pillow wondering what she had done to drive Kurten away.
Arriving in Hartsford, Kurten stayed in the seedy party of town that rented rooms cheaply. He did not want to attract attention as he scouted for more information. After two weeks of staying in Hartsford, he began to wonder if it was not a mistake that he fired his investigators. Perhaps now at this part of the journey they would be able to uncover more information. The December day was cold and fresh when he decided to walk the shop row. Watching the people bustle along with their brightly tied packages eagerly looking forward to the holidays, he could not help but feel his mood change to black. He spied young couples in love gazing at engagement rings, their warm smiles cutting into his mood.
If only Claren and I could have been like that
.
But deep down Kurten knew that he could never love another person as much as he did himself. Since he had stopped drinking and visiting the gambling houses, his thoughts seem clearer and more focused. He stopped short at one shop window to spy a girl in a beautiful white gown. She reminded him of Claren but the sun was reflecting in such a way on the shop glass her features were obscured. He continued on knowing that there was no way he would be able to find her that easily.
By chance Kurten happened to be reading the society column in the news paper. Hartsford seemed a city unlike his own, it revolved around parties and events, gaiety, and laughter. It made Kurten feel even more sour and his black mood was constantly upon him. But for the first time (in a long time) Kurten’s spirits lifted. This one little column gave him all the information he needed to continue on to the next part of his plan. The column said that a
Mr. Horace Bitwater
was going to be in attendance at the Celestial Ball with his friend,
Claren Lowood
. Kurten read the rest of the column not realizing that his hands were shaking. He did however realize that more than likely it
was
Claren he had seen in the shop window when he first arrived in Hartsford.
The days to the ball seemed to drag by for him as he chose to stay hidden in his cheap room. Finally, the day arrived and he hired a carriage to take him to the ball. He had showered and dressed carefully, almost as if he himself were going to be in attendance. Kurten knew however that this ball was exclusive to invitation and he was sure there would be security. His plan was not to attend, but to watch and wait for the perfect opportunity to confront her. With his carriage parked across the roadway, he watched as Claren and her companion and another couple exited their carriage. Kurten was not prepared for his reaction to her. These past months all he could think about is revenge, he was clear and set on hurting her, humiliating her. If Mr. Brighton/Lowood was there, he would take care of him as well.
But now with her so close, dressed in a becoming dress, blushing shyly at those around her, he became enflamed with desire for her. She was still the vision of purity and loveliness that he remembered.
Why did he have to want someone who didn’t want him?
Kurten waited outside the whole night, waiting for Claren to emerge. He failed to see the commotion on the balcony above and had no idea of Etrigan or his grand entrance, but he did spy Claren and another woman walking out. He told the driver to follow the carriage to its destination.