The Earls lie or a scoundrels promise

And he had returned

Chapter One. -  And he had returned.

She watched Lady Phillips as she circled the extravagant ball room, conversing and smiling, complementing the ladies and flirting with the gentleman, she was a natural. It's beautiful high ceilings were filled with talk, laughter and music since most of respectable society filled it, along with two massive glittering crystal chandeliers hanging low, catching every fleck of light and sending it dancing along the ceiling. Yes, most definitely her favourite of all ball rooms.

'Elizabeth dear, what have I told you about ogling in such a manner, its most Un-lady like, do sit down before somebody sees.'

Lizzie could feel the worry radiating from Aunt Lucy, she didn't have to see her face to know her pale grey eyes where darting around those closest to them, to check who had witnessed her niece's behaviour. Her aunt's greying dark hair was pulled up into a slightly frizzy mass of curls similar to her own, although Lizzie's hair was not quite as dark but a much warmer chestnut brown. She had to admire her, she never looked less than perfect.

She stopped herself from causing her Aunt more anxiety, giving her best, most impressive society smile, as she called it.
Not a smile of true happiness, but one for others happiness, one she must plaster on her lips for everyone else in the room.
'Im sorry Aunt, but it's so magnificent, I couldn't help but admire it'
It was then Lizzie noticed him amongst the crowd of giggling girls, her skin pricked and crawled as his icy cold blue eyes washed over her. She felt the blood drain from her head.
His thin lips wearing a smug smile, it made her blood boil and see red.
How he had got away with what he did to her, and those young debutantes swooning over him like a catch of the ton, If only they knew the truth.

Memories of him, of that period of her life flashed through her mind making her feel sick, It was becoming too much, tears threatened at the corners of her eyes. 'Excuse me aunt, It's so warm I just need a moment' 'Really Elizabeth...' her aunt took in the ashen complexion of her face 'are you unwell?' 'I will not be long, I promise' she forced a smile and held back the nausea rising from the depths of her stomach.  
Lizzie could see the concern and question in Aunt Lucy's eyes but thankfully she did not pry and with a curt nod, reluctantly let Lizzie go. She didn't know what had been the cause of her niece's change in behaviour, the sudden headaches, the quiet reserve that she had grown into.
She pinned it on the failed engagement and hoped that finding her a new betrothed would soon perk her niece up again.

*****

From the moment Blake Bennett, The Earl of Arrington agreed to attend Lord and Lady Phillips ball he'd regretted it. The last thing he wanted was to be exchanging pleasantries with most of London society, but his sister had begged him to attend with them as it was her first season. Having been out of London society for years, Blake had nearly forgotten just how tedious these affairs could be, and despite the fact he'd been gone for so long hadn't seemed to lessened the gossip, if anything it had only fuelled it.

The crowd split before him as he casually strolled the floor, hushed whispers left in his wake.
He didn't need to turn around to know as he walked, match making mama's planned to either push their daughters in-front of him or hide them before he could ravish them.
That widow's and married woman alike were eyeing his behind with one thing in mind.
Fans were fluttering left, right and centre as they either gossiped behind them or were flirting over them. The gentleman however, were either silently warning him off their wives, considering accosting him and calling him out over one past event or another, or the young bachelors, who were mentally congratulating him, eager to follow in the stride of the man who famously took London by storm in his youth, the man who had little regard for society, the man who supposedly managed to bed the notoriously beautiful fiery Irish triplets that could be found at a rather less reputable establishment in London...all at the same time.
Of-course he would never tell what happened that night, that was not the gentlemanly thing to do. The notorious Earl and the scoundrel, who could bring a woman to her knees with a look, and had the luck of the devil himself at the turn of a card. The stories still echoed through thriving ballrooms and smoky clubs to this day. And he had returned.