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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Maeve wasn't sure what she was about to say, but she was certain she would say it.
Seeing her sister basking in happiness, elated to have married Thomas Everson, had only reminded her of the unfairness of her situation with Lucian. The man she loved had done nothing wrong, so there was no reason for them not to know the same marital bliss as the newlyweds.
While she doubted her father would believe her when she explained that Lucian had nothing to do with the leak, she was determined to enforce that truth on him until he accepted it. Aiden Langston might be a stubborn man, but she was an even more stubborn woman.
What she hadn't bargained for, though, was that Lucian himself would be here as well. When she'd left the guests to find her father, she'd truly believed that Lucian was gone, since she hadn't seen him for over an hour, after their last glance in the chapel. But upon seeing John Delawney by the door, she'd instantly gathered that her former fiancé was in the room, and she'd suspected that her father was right there with him.
Instead of the bloodbath she'd expected, she'd found the two men surprisingly unharmed. Maybe she'd arrived before the battle. Which was good, because she was ready to lead the charge.
Her eyes were focused on her father, but everything in her was aware of Lucian's presence so close. His proximity would fuel the fire in her heart, spurring her to demand the life they were owed.
"Father, I- I have something to say, and I demand that you listen." With slow gestures and some indiscernible expression on his face, her father turned toward her, crossing his arms across his broad chest.
Lucian came closer, his demeanor uncharacteristically hesitant. "Maeve, you-"
"No, let her speak," her father cut him.
She felt as though there was something she was missing, but her emotions were too high for her to ponder on it efficiently. Her eyes anxiously scanned the room, and she noticed a white handkerchief on the floor, covered in blood. Well, maybe she was arriving after the bloodbath in the end.
"Papa, I realize you have some animosity toward Luci- Lord Worthington. And while I understand where it comes from, and I myself believed the same, I must tell you that you are wrong. Which I know isn't something you're told often."
Her brazenness earned her one of her father's famous haughty looks, his left eyebrow cocked up and his lips pinched.
"I know how it sounds, and I'm aware that we've done nothing to deserve your trust, but believe me, Papa... He didn't do it. We don't know yet who sold the information about you and Mother, but it wasn't him. He isn't responsible. Please, believe me; trust that I wouldn't lie to you about something so important." Her father wasn't objecting, still observing her with keen interest, and she took it as a sign that things were doing well so far. "All day I've watched Ailia be the happiest I've ever seen her, and while I'm so proud and delighted for her, it has been crushing me inside. I want what she has. I want to marry the man I so desperately love."
