The Salt Mill Tavern, Fifth And Main, Boylesten, England (1763)...
Hazel eyes flickered with mischief as they watched the movements of a thinly built redhead with puffy cheeks and emerald green eyes given to decidedly pale skin and an average build. Alain Remington found himself quite enthralled with the goingsons of the redhead girl only a few years younger than him as she worked day and night at the local lienen cleaning spot. He frequented the tavern more often than not leaving the confines of his room to get himself good and drunk only to come back to an empty room and pass out in bed despite his need for companionship of sorts. His birthday had only been a month away and the new year right after and he had planned to indulge in whatever he liked when the time came. Casimir's wedding was only two days away and already he and Noreen seemed to have gotten closer and closer still.
Rage burned inside Alain to the likes of which he had not even recognized as he turned his attention back to his painting. The fevered brush strokes and the deep splotches of color began to take form in the most barbaric of images before he ultimately stopped himself having ruined what he'd been working on previously in the wake of his newly intensified feelings. He stepped away from the semi-ruined painting and ventured back to the window as the heavy wave of frustration hit him. Once more his eyes came across the thin redhead as she lugged more baskets of linen and ventured into the nearby washhouse.
Alain sighed having had enough of his own company for the time being and set about getting dressed ignoring the splotches of paint on his brow and cheek as he ventured down the winding staircase and out the secondary door that led to the street corner. He moved amid the shadows not wishing to be recognized as he passed by many a young noble bound for trouble as much as he'd been and entered the alleyway adjacent to his building where a young redhead girl had been unceremoniously bumped into him.
The fury he'd been carrying seemed to dissolve in that instant as he took a look at the now nervous peasant girl who had foolishly collided with his person. She was smaller than she looked from his window and quite nimble in terms of her body weight. Alain's hazel eyes blazed with something akin to fury before it faded and he simply looked upon the peasant girl with interest.
"S-Sorry," she said timidly as she attempted very badly to get back to her feet amid the mud and muck that she'd fallen into.
Her cheeks turned bright red and she seemed to have been trembling as a result of being in his presence for the time being. Alain's gaze softened and he gingerly assisted the redhead peasant girl in standing as she found herself unable to look away from his hazel gaze and fiddled with her hands as she stared into his handsome face. The evident measure of innocence from the redhead girl seemed to get Alain's undivided attention and he simply treated her to a charming smile.
"Are you alright?" he asked in a voice as smooth as the fabric of silk.
The timid young redhead nodded as she looked up at him.
"I-I..." she stammered in the wake of attempting to find the words in which to speak to someone like him without coming off as the childish simpleton that she quite possibly knew she was.
Alain bent down to her level and dutifully assisted her in getting back to her feet. Her clumsiness notwithstanding, she'd been something of a charming sort of girl if he had been honest about her so far.
"Do excuse me," he said politely. "I beg your pardon for running into you after being so awestruck by your exquisite beauty that it was a wonder I saw anything else before me."
The redhead's cheeks turned red and she seemed caught off guard. It was as if she expected to be scolded for having such clumsy feet. She'd been quite pale up close and vastly thin, possibly due to her love for peasant station in life and the fact that she had little to no access to viable foods of substance to promote healing and healthy growth properly.
Alain thought it amusing that his newest project of sorts would be something he, himself would have to diligently work with from top to bottom. The redhead girl was still shocked that he'd been so kind to her despite feeling rather horribly about her manner.
"You are a lovely girl," he said kindly before turning to leave.
"Wait," she said intrigued about the handsome stranger who had ventured to the seedy side of Boylston. "What's a kind stranger like you doing down at the bowery?"
Alain treated her to something of a boyish smile.
"I've come to do a bit of work actually," he replied. "I'm an artist you see...and there was something about the darkened grit in the area that sort of..spoke to me as it were."
The redhead hadn't known much about art and Alain had not expected her to but she seemed to be quite interested in hearing about it.
"For the sake of argument, let us just say I enjoy nature and capturing the images with my mind onto a canvas for others to see." he continued after noting her clueless expression. "In any case, Miss I shall not take up any more of your time."
He moved toward the pub leaving the redhead behind him puzzled and intrigued about him all the more.
As Alain began to stroll into the pub, he had been in better spirits than when he first arrived in the seedy part of town. The bartender waved at him and he sat down at the bar where he'd become most comfortable ever since making the initial journey away from his family home.
The images of Casimir and Noreen continued to burn in the back of his mind as he knew what both had been capable of when in the mind frame of unbridled passions. The bile in the back of his throat began to creep up once more and he dutifully fitted it all back down with a glass of rotgut swill that the bartender had happily served him once he sat down among the empty barstools.
It was shaping up to be another long night of booze, fights, and blackout drunkenness, but already he'd been anticipating the next day and the possible interaction with a certain young redhead should the mood strike him, all in all, it wasn't so much of a waste of a day.