Despite the unshakable attraction between them, Maeve and Lucian are uninterested in love and marriage; especially since they hate one another and couldn't think of a worse match.
• • •
London, 1815
Maeve Langston's aversion to the opposite sex has...
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To Lucian's displeasure, the person wandering around the glassed room wasn't John. He hadn't expected her to be here, observing the blooming flowers that surrounded her.
"What are you doing here, Harriet?" he asked, not hiding his annoyance. His sister whipped around to where he was, and her eyes grew two sizes when she witnessed his state. "Aren't you supposed to enjoy your summer in the countryside with your family?" he continued.
"I am, yes. I had to come back to London for a few days to find a new nanny for the children. Dear God, Lucian, you look positively awful." As she spoke, she made her way through the plants to reach him.
"And the air of the country suits you, you look positively ravishing. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than entertain at the moment."
"I hope those better things include a bath. Luce, I've encountered cattle that smelled less foul than you do."
"When have you ever been even remotely close to a cow?" Lucian replied with annoyance.
"I feel like I'm close to one right now, you brute. What happened to you? I thought you were happy. I thought you were heading toward a happy path."
Lucian clenched his jaw, frustrated by her line of questioning. Even though he'd kept her name a secret, he'd shared with his sister the truth about Maeve. He wasn't looking forward to explaining he'd messed everything up, hurting the woman he loved in the process.
"Things didn't go the way I'd planned," he explained through gritted teeth.
"What do you mean by that? Did Lady Maeve reject your proposal? We were all so certain we'd finally see you happily married."
Between the information he'd shared with her and the fact that he'd asked for the family's ring, it was no wonder his sisters and mother had assumed there would be an announcement soon. But all of this was in the past. The ring had even been returned to him on the day the Langston family had left, dropped here by a carrier.
"I was certain too, Harriet. Had everything gone the way we intended, I would have been married to her in six days' time. But like I said, things didn't go according to plan."
"Six days?! How's this the first time I'm hearing of this?"
"Things have been rather unconventional, to say the least. John— John intended to have her for himself," Lucian disclosed, unable to ignore the sting of guilt that struck him. "But fate intended to have us together. Or so I thought."
"Oh, Lucian..." After a slight hesitation and a disdainful look at his attire, Harriet leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his broad frame. "You should have told me all this," she insisted, tightening her hold for a moment.
"I didn't see the point in that."
She moved away from him swiftly, looking at him like she was about to scold him like a child. "You should have told me because I'm a woman, so who better to give you advice on feminine affairs?"
