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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Even though everything was going according to plan, Maeve couldn't help being nervous. She looked at her parents, standing further in the large parlor everyone was gathered in. Lucian had been true to his promise, and he'd organized a social evening to allow her to see this other side of him.
As soon as they'd arrived, accompanied by Ailia, she'd understood why Lucian preferred his smaller, more intimate house. She'd actually grown fond of his humble abode, having gone there a few times since her first visit. But this... This didn't feel as cozy, warm, and cuddly as his other house.
From the outside, it resembled any wealthy house in the neighboring streets, with white stone, tall windows, and imposing columns. Much like a smaller version of her family's London townhouse, actually. The inside, however, was unlike anything she'd seen before. The best word to describe the interior would be crowded, or maybe overwhelming. She'd heard that the Worthingtons were quite proud of their wealth and prone to displaying it, but this was... too much. Walls barely had any space left, charged with fine tapestries, built-in ornaments, or paintings. The furniture was just as tacky, the chandeliers extravagant, and the carpets overdetailed.
No, most definitely, she much preferred his little house in Mayfair, with the flowers and the coquettish touches.
She hadn't seen the rest of this one yet, though. They'd arrived about twenty minutes ago and had been mingling with the other guests since. Lucian was proving to be a suitable host, making a point of entertaining all of his guests. Which meant she had enjoyed very little of him so far. To her displeasure, Ackley was among them, but she understood why. Since the goal was to avoid raising any suspicions, Lucian had not only issued an invitation to her family, he'd also invited the people he usually mingled with, as well as his sister, Harriet, who was his only family member living in London.
Three days prior, while they'd been rolling in his sheets, he'd warned her they'd need to be particularly cautious. According to him, his sister had a sixth sense regarding those things, and with one indiscreet glance on their part, she might guess something was going on between them.
It was remarkably hard not to glimpse at Lucian, though. He was dashing in his evening suit, and she wanted nothing more than to walk up to him and claim him in front of everyone. Sensing that she might give them away with all the side glances she kept giving him, she migrated toward her parents and her sister, hoping the conversation could help distract her from their host.
"Do you think all their properties are like this? I remember their home in Bristol being exactly the same," her mother was saying to her father, observing the overly done decor of the room.
"I know the barony also has a couple of estates in the countryside. I hope those are decorated in a more humble manner," he answered.
"It's interesting to see this need for opulence can be passed on."
Maeve forced herself to bite her tongue, tempted to let her mother know that Lucian wasn't particularly fond of this either. He was the victim of his parents' extravagance, and since he barely lived there, he had probably never bothered making it all to his tastes.
