A Season for Love (Completed)

Chapter 3. 1813

The ballroom of Tiffany Manor was buzzing. Every eligible debutante was dancing with every eligible gentleman. Laughter and music cascaded throughout the room, every couple having a wonderful time. A new social season had started in London, and the marriage market was flooded.

Lady Olivia Tristan stood against the wall of the ballroom, trying to let her feet get some rest. For the last two hours, she had been one of the lucky young ladies to dance with several gentlemen. Unfortunately, none of them had been appealing to her, much less skilled with how to dance a waltz with a lady. She shivered, realizing that all of the gentleman she had engaged with reminded her of George Churchhill. And that made her very uneasy, especially because of the fact that the night she had been ruined still plagued her nightmares. The night that she and William had lost their father because of a heart attack. The night she was no longer virtuous. She had been 18 at the time, and that had been a year ago. One year later, at the age of 19, she was still haunted.

Instead of wearing the traditional white that every other debutante was wearing, Olivia donned a lovely cream silk gown with cap sleeves and white silk gloves. The neckline of the gown  was square, just like the rest.  Her hair was fixed into a soft chignon. She  was beautiful, according to William. She knew she was lovely as well, but wasn't sure if any other gentleman would notice.

Glancing down at her dance card, which was attached to her left wrist with a lavender silk ribbon, Olivia noticed one empty slot. Glancing back up, her eyes wandered around the ballroom, desperate to see if any gentleman was approaching her for that final dance of the evening. Unfortunately, she realized that no one was coming her way. She sighed softly, resigning herself to the fact that she wouldn't have one final dance. Raising her skirts, she moved towards the French double doors that went out onto the terrace to get some fresh air.  Stepping towards the rail, she placed her hands onto the cold metal, looking out into the garden that the Tiffany household possessed. It was very well manicured and had several flowers. Her eyes traveled from the blossoms up to the sky, gazing at the brilliant moon as it shimmered against the deep blue sky. She was hoping and praying that someone was going to love her for who she was, not because she was ruined by the Duke of Cornwall. She was wanting someone who is going to make love to her, not just with his body, but with his heart, his words and his actions.

Little did Olivia realize that she was going to be receiving exactly that type of gentleman on that evening. Because, unbeknownst to her, the perfect gentleman was waiting in the wings to carry her to heaven. To give her the love that she rightfully deserved. And little did she realize that she was going to be his saving grace.  Suddenly hearing footsteps behind her, she turned her head, and came face-to-face with the most beautiful gentleman she had seen that evening.

He was standing in the doorway, looking at her with concern. He was tall, a few inches taller than she was, with chestnut curls and vibrant dark green eyes. Not a single piece of stubble or sideburns was visible on his face. His features were strong. He was wearing a three-piece black silk suit with a white button up shirt cravat and black boots. He was absolutely handsome, and seemed to be interested in her.

Olivia blinked, her cheeks becoming pink as she realized she was staring at this gentleman. Trying to compose her features, she gave him a sweet smile. "Good evening sir."