Two weeks ago I received a letter from my father’s closest friend, Marion Asher. A very wealthy man owning an expansive estate out west. I remember visiting quite often as a child and being in awe of the gardens, certainly, I give most credit to those experiences as to what led me to study botany.

My esteemed Professor,

When I last spoke to your father, he spoke with great pride in your achievements. 

Such boastful confidence inspired me to write to you.

My father never would have imagined I would go to school, however, it was due to Mr. Asher’s financial assistance that I was able to attend. Nevertheless, my father takes quite a bit of pride in me, almost to an embarrassing degree.

My reasoning for this letter is in hopes that you would mentor Titus.

A name I had hoped to never hear again for the rest of my life. The only son of Mr. Asher and due to the friendship of our fathers we’ve been forced to be around each other for many long summers. Unfortunately, we never seemed to find anything in common. While I was more reserved and absorbed in reading, Titus found it much more entertaining to rally his friends to embarrass me in any way possible.

I’m afraid my son’s fondness for the gentler sex has become quite the vice. I believe that your presence would benefit in teaching him how to be a more respectable man.

Letting out an exasperated sigh I folded the letter and put it back into my jacket pocket. I had been travelling by carriage to the Asher Estate for a few days becoming more anxious each day wondering what awaited me. If I had the option to refuse I certainly would have, yet my sense of obligation to Mr. Asher drove me to agree to help. The carriage approached the estate, the drive lined with great trees that reached for each other overhead. Looking out the window I caught a reflection of myself that made me self-conscious, I looked tired. Overgrown curly black hair reached just above my shoulders, and dark circles rested under my blue bloodshot eyes. Just before setting out, I had been immersed in my research, so there had not been much time for grooming. I attempted to adjust my hair and fix my mustache, though there was nothing to be done about the stubble that had grown out so I left it at that.

What could I possibly do to reverse the behavior of an entitled 23-year-old lover-boy?

Finally, past the trees, I saw the expanse of the property, preened meadows and gardens were even more beautiful than I remembered made me a little excited to be back. The carriage pulled to a stop at the entrance of the main house.

There he stood, Marion Asher, accompanied by his latest bride, Aggie, who was much younger than himself. 

Seems as though the apple didn’t really fall too far.

 Fortunately, his spawn was nowhere to be found for now.

I stepped down from the carriage looking around at the sight.

“Welcome, Professor, you’re looking quite well.” Mr. Asher grabbed my hand shaking it.

“Hah uh, no need to call me that Mr. Asher, Alexander is just fine.” I tried to reverse the damage of my father’s incessant bragging.

“I see,” Mr. Asher put his hand to his chin rubbing it in thought, “well let me explain the situation in more detail.” 

How much more explanation do I need? 

We entered through the front doors into the foyer, two large staircases stood in the middle with a large chandelier hanging above us. The immense atmosphere still overwhelms me even now.

“You see Alexander, I hope to have my son married within the year, but as you can imagine not too many respectable gentlemen are willing to give away their daughters to a well-known womanizer.” He looked to me.

“I’m not sure I am trained in the reformation of such people nor am I a teacher.” I turned towards Mr. Asher hoping to inform him.

“That does not concern me, all you have to do is keep him out of trouble during the day until I can convince someone to agree to a proposal.” He laughed to himself.

So I’m babysitting.

“I’m sure that your influence will be good for him,” Mr. Asher assured me, “you’ve also been much more grounded and uhhh..” I could tell he was searching for a polite way to say ‘stick in the mud.’ I’m very aware of this opinion, it's never really bothered me but it does sting sometimes. Everyone turned to the door hearing commotion outside. 

Suddenly the doors opened, four young men clambered in laughing and hanging onto each other. Upon seeing Mr. Asher they all straightened up trying to hold in laughter from their conversations before entering. Titus stood front and center his goons cowering slightly behind him.  Looking at the four of them reminded me of little kids waiting to be scolded for playing in the mud. A mess of wavy golden brown hair fell onto his forehead, eyes glimmering a wonderful spring green. He had become quite beautiful and I found it hard to look at him without my heart fluttering. His shirt was unbuttoned exposing his chest, beads of sweat rolling down. 

“Titus, I’m sure you remember Alexander,” He gestured to me, “son of Mr. Fogg, he will be your mentor from now on teaching you how to be a gentleman.” Mr. Asher held his head up in pride of his scheme. 

Titus trying to remain composed hiding the shock. “Teaching me how to be a gentleman, father, I more than anyone know how to treat a lady.” He and the goons behind him withheld their laughter. Mr. Asher wasn’t amused. 

“Yes…well,” He took a step toward Titus, “why don’t you show Alexander to one of our guest rooms?”

Obviously, there was no arguing, Mr. Asher walked away along with Aggie leaving me with Titus and his friends. The awkwardness sat among us until Titus’s friends excused themselves in order to escape the tension.

“I look forw-” I began but was abruptly cut off as Titus walked past and swiftly up the huge staircase. In effort to not fall behind I followed after walking down a maze of halls. He stopped in front of a well-dressed room in the middle of the hall turning sharply towards me, sizing me up.

“I don’t need a nanny, especially one who's barely older than me by a year.” Contempt as though it was my idea to be here.

“I’m a mentor, not a nanny, and I wouldn’t be here were it not for your behavior.” I stood my ground.

A sly smile crept onto his face, “My behavior? Surely you understand I’m just enjoying the wonders of being alive.” He held his arms out. Eyeing me up and down again as he walked past brushing past my shoulder, “Well maybe you don’t.” 

The insinuation of my lack of experience was, though true, didn’t make me any less flustered.

I closed the door to my room, laying face down into the coolness of my bed. It's not that I’m not interested in such things, any man would be, I’m just waiting for someone special. Or at least I had convinced myself of such. An equally educated woman who is capable of intelligent conversation as well as emotional connection. I’ve met plenty of women who fit the standard but when it came down to it I was unable to “perform.” 

Rolling over on my back, I stared at the ceiling, I held a pillow close to my chest, remembering A knock at the door jolted me out of my thoughts.

“J-just a minute.” 

“Ah, no need to come to the door I just I should inform you that dinner will be served in an hour.” A sweet voice said through the door. 

“I see,” relief swept over me, “thank you.” I fell back on the bed, my trip had been long and tiring, and on top of that thinking of dealing with Titus exhausted me further. I decided to bide my time of peace for just one more day by staying in my room for the rest of the evening. Left with my thoughts my interaction with Titus replayed over and over, everything I could have said now coming to mind. I groaned in frustration into my pillow.