The Crusty Englishman - Chapter One
“I cannot believe I agreed to this.” Tess gazed over the rolling hills. She pulled her blond hair aside and tied it with a blue ribbon matching her dress.
“Come now, mother. Is it really such a chore?” said Terrance. “A splash of wine and a quaint meal in the company of your dashing son.” As he set down the basket, his lace shirt hung open, exposing his muscular chest.
He opened the bottle, and spotted the garner below. “Oh no, not that fool again,” said Terrance. “You must get better at staffing the estate.”
The garner staggered over crops, chasing away the family dog.
“That’s your father’s business, not mine. Besides, what do you think is wrong with him?” Tess asked.
“Isn’t it clear? Without proper education, the mind is nothing but a rotten core.” He poured a glass of wine. “That mindless twit doesn’t have a lick of academics under him. Ask him to read a book, and watch him stare at it like a hairy arse; ask him to spell it, and watch him struggle to squeeze it out his back end.”
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