Crossed and Twisted (The Devils and Angels series, book 1)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

 

 

It was the first he had seen of her since the day he had caught her with Sir Tomas, his cousin. She stood erect and as beautiful as ever. Her soft dark brown hair in a slight wave at the tips. Her softly curved slim figure in one of those tresses that she made herself for her amusement. The gown made her shine. He was sure, too sure, that all eyes were upon her as she entered the room.

 

The duchess of Devonshire.

 

He acted as though it did not even faze him to see her again. Married and with all the glamour she now possessed. Then again, she had always dazzled and enchanted. She was a woman who caught all eyes.

 

Lost in his thoughts he had not heard the butler announce the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire. However, when he realized the pair, arm in arm, were descending towards the crowd. He sized up the man, unconscious of what he was doing. The Duke of Devonshire was of a muscular build, unlike so many men of title. The man was handsome, but not young. The Duke was tall, taller than he with broad shoulders.

 

He felt a pang of jealousy. The smile and laughter of her voice and of the other man's insured it.

 

He had vowed he would find a better woman than her. He had vowed never to care again, and yet here he was, transfixed by the couple.

 

 

 

 

This morning...

 

She looked upon herself in the mirror. She slipped into the Duke's room, hoping her husband would like the new outfit. She smiled at herself. He was still asleep. She walked towards the bed and knelt down next to the bed facing her husband.

 

"Your grace, it is time to wake up." She murmured softly to her husband.

 

His eyes slowly flickered open and with a grin he tugged her playfully up as he twisted to face the ceiling with his wife on top. He breathed in her scent of apple blossoms.

 

She pecked a kiss on his cheek and pulled him up into a sitting position.

 

"We need to get ready."

 

"I wish we could stay" He groaned, knowing it was of no use. He knew Minerva too well. She wasn't frivolous, she wasn't careless, she was the most sensible and level-headed woman he had ever known. All emotion was kept in check and only on the mostly rarest occasions would she bless him with her true self.

 

Although she was forcing her husband up and to do his duties quickly before they went, she also wanted to stay. She would not admit it but she did want to stay, not because she did not like social functions, on the contrary it was opportunity to find information and do business. The thing that kept her from being treated like the other woman. The thing that kept the men in awe and respect. Her husband's income had doubled itself with in the 3 years of marriage that they had had.

 

The ladies, however, were a different sort all together. They talked to much, too much of others and were too nosey. She was also one of the centre of the gossip as it were. They had gossiped and made her disreputable to those that had no past dealings with her. However the men that did do business with her, kept that in check so the gossip would not over flow and flood at the end of its limit.

 

Only real reason why she did not want to go, was that her sister was back from France with a newly wedded husband. They were attending the 'Ball'. She dreaded the meeting. She and her sister were not on so friendly a term as they had been 5 years ago.

 

 

 

Present...

 

She was a little more relaxed now that she was here. It looked odd to cling on to her husband so, but she was known in London society for being a 'clingy' wife and her husband for being a 'protective' man. Also it steadied her so that the encounter with her sister, who she could not spy out anywhere in the vicinity, would not make her a victim of weakness.

 

Her husband seemed to realize that, although she was the same as ever in every other way, she was unnerved. Without giving away that something was wrong to the rest of the room he gently put his other free hand on his wife's and gave it a squeeze, of which she could not be grateful enough for. However, she did not dare give any other gesture of her gratitude, for if she did and the room noticed it would only ruin what he had done for her. So she also gave her husband's arm, which she had her hand on, a quick squeeze.

 

They talked with others lightly about politics, economics, literature, art, music, and many other things. They then moved on to talk of business. They danced a bit only with themselves which only angered the other ladies more than needed and made considerable gossip. As the evening progressed their conversations became more serious and talked more of business, economical or political.

 

As the evening deepened it became nearly unbearable and her nerves very near undisguisable. None the less, she kept her composure. She knew that this incident should not perturb her in anyway, much less drive her too near the edge for her liking.

 

 

 

He had watched the couple all evening. He had even hoped the pair would separate or even that she would give some sign of recognition. He had heard, only from gossip, that the two never separated. That their every manoeuvre was made together. In spite of the talk surrounding the couple he had believed her to be indifferent to any man. He had thought that she could have never changed from what she had been.

 

However looking at her he saw a completely different woman.

 

Could this Minerva be the Minerva that he had asked for the hand of only 6 years ago? No, but yes. This was her. With all her former beauty and manners, and also loyalty that he had believed her to 'once upon a time' to possess.

 

As he gazed at the couple sipping his drink he thought he had seen something, or rather, someone at the window opposite. He dismissed the idea.

 

Getting bored he wandered through the crowd. Then he had an idea, just for fun he would seek out and flirt openly in front of the Duke with the Duchess. And for all he knew of her, he knew she would follow his example.