Dearest Sylvia,
I am sure you are curious about why the Baroness and I despise each other so. Well, my brother’s demise is the reason for our intense hatred towards each other. Constance, as you know, is not a pleasant woman. Despite her repulsive nature, she seduced Credence. Her being an older widow, she prided herself on the fact that she was financially independent and did not need to marry again. Deeply in love with the Baroness (God knows how), my brother proposed to her, but she cruelly dismissed him as nothing but a plaything to her. The poor boy was heartbroken, so I proposed that we take a trip to Bath so that he could take his mind off of Constance. Well, as everyone in this town knows, Credence, delirious from the pain of rejection, ran into the middle of the town square and was tragically trampled by a horse. I blame the Baroness because if not for her cruel behavior, I would never have taken Credence to Bath, but she blames me for taking him there in the first place. After his funeral, Constance confided in me that she was also deeply in love with Credence, but she could not risk her reputation by marrying a younger man. Too little, too late Constance. Now she must atone for her sins.
Eternally yours,
Claudius
Claudius Dysquith 