The Compromise

Chapter 3 - The Drawing Room Talk

The rest of that night had been spent dancing and chatting in each other's company with her mother's constant glances from the corner of her eyes. The act had exhausted her, and she'd retired early from the function, giving her best wishes to those she knew and went to her guest quarters. To say she was thankful when the bed came into view was an understatement. Once she had taken off that blasted garment, she all but collapsed onto the soft mattress and sighed in desperate relief. She barely removed all of the bloody hair pins keeping her ash blonde curls from her face. She had her mother to thank for her ridiculously curly mane that splayed around her as her head collided with the pillow.

She would have liked to have it cut - along with her family ties.

She had fallen asleep quite quickly but her sleep was fitful. She had awoken many a time that night to lingering feeling of cold fingers and hands trailing down her arms and face but glowing red eyes seemed to burn in her mind's eye.

It had been a week since that night and although she had not felt the hands of cold, those bloody red eyes plagued her dreams! They flickered in her peripheral vision, gazing at her with an intensity that scared her but she could never catch them directly. It was as if a demon from the romantics she had been reading had come to life to haunt her. She had later resorted to blaming them and tried her best not to read from them.

However today she had succumbed to those tempting pages that enticed her with adventure and excitement. She had sat at a window lounge within one of the drawing room's which she had dubbed as her own for the accumulation of books and other items which showed her individuality. Her mother refused to let any of her guests to dine or chat in such a room which she deemed the purples made too dark and dreary, and that the lighting wasn't enough, especially due to the dense cloud cover they were accustomed to. Today, like any of her other days after her lessons; was peacefully quiet without the constant prattle of her mother and she contented in this time to herself.

As she was flipping the page of an exciting tale of a man whom had been cursed from an overseas relic, she heard the ever increasing clatter of feet. Just as her head rose, a knock came to the hard mahogany door and one of her maids entered.

"Miss Spencer? A man by the name of Sir Duke Casmir has arrived and requested to see you," the young woman uttered nervously and flinched in shock when Missi slammed her book closed.

"Ah yes... bring him to me and fetch us some tea and a light snack. Don't interrupt us for anything else." She spoke with a polite smile, staring directly into the servants eyes, unnerving the poor girl whom gave a small nod.

"Yes ma'am." The maid waited until Missi turned her head away, dismissing her before she skittered down the hall to fetch the man.

Missi knew she made her handmaid's nervous, she didn't like being tended to like a infant, and would much rather be the antisocial kind. At least then she wouldn't have to overhear all the gossip that they had in regards to her or her family. She would only have them around when she needed them, like when she had to get her goddamn corsets on!

Missi was not kept waiting long. She could hear Dukes long strides down the hall, the clack of his shoes against the marble floor before there was a light knock. At first the maid hurried in with the tea and an assortment of small pastries, before announcing Duke whom stepped in and bowed dramatically with that same blasted smirk plastered on his face. His attire had changed, instead in his hands he held a cane and a top hat. A cloak was strapped around his shoulders adding to the lacking bulk, and like the rest of his attire, it was pigmented black. However small intricate lacing and parts of the collar and sleeves were a deep, rich purple. It had come to her as strange that he match her room, and more so that she was wearing the same colour.

She was wearing a purple dress, one of her more casual looks - albeit rebellious, but her irritated mother was a good enough reason for her. It was too dark for the Duchess' taste, made her look ghostly, unattractive... the list went on.

Swinging back up from his bow, he placed the top hat upon his head, a motion that only came off as smooth, before rocking back and forth on his heels like a child. His sudden switch in emotions caused whiplash of the confused kind and Missi all but stared at him with delicately raised brow.

"You seem happy?"

Duke smirked, hand rising to his heart while a exaggerated breathy sigh left his lips.

"Only because I'm meeting my lady love!"

"Don't call me that, and cut the dramatics - I hate them," Missi scowled as she set her book to the side and left the comforts of her window seat.

"Well your going to have to get used to them love," Duke purred, his cocky smirk back on his face. "We're going to be together for a while."

Missi didn't bother to answer him, instead got to work on fixing some tea for the both of them, and during this time, Duke took a good look to the rooms interior.

"I can see now, why you were so interested in the literature my family collected. You've got at least enough books in here to have a small library," Duke exclaimed and he wasn't wrong. Any shelving space in the entire room had some form of books on them, there was even several stacks of them against the walls and one by her window seat.

Missi hummed noncommittally, passing him a tea and directing herself to one of the plush lounge chairs. Duke copied, flipping his long legs elegantly as he found the perfect position. They sat in silence for several moments, Duke took that time to size up the young woman in front of him.

"What is it?" Missi snapped. She did not appreciate his wolffish grin that spread across his face.

"Ah... a woman with fire, I like that," Duke smirked.

"Excuse me?" Missi bristled with barely contained anger, her voice terse. "I do believe that we made this agreement to not involve physical or emotional attachment."

"And you're absolutely right" Duke nodded as a matter of fact before continued. "However a certain amount of authenticity needs to be portrayed. And let me tell you, if you think your mother is hard to convince, you should meet mine. It would be much easier if we could get along, don't you think?"

Missi internally sighed. He had a point, always seemed to be the right one and it pissed her off. She doubted if she could get along with him, especially with his attitude and bluntness that in some cases she'd've admittedly admired.

"Do you at least think we could come out of this as at least friends? I am doing you a favour after all," Duke continued over her silence, tilting his head and his hands clasped together - something that in the back of her mind faintly whispered warning.

Missi sighed.

"I suppose, but I can't make any promises."

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Author's (lazy) notes

Hiya again honeys. Thank you for the views and I hoped you all had a wonderful Christmas and you've also had a wonderful New Years Day. Got any New Years resolutions? I don't yet. Σ(￣。￣ﾉ)ﾉ

Well 3rd chapter is out (and I'm sorry that it's filler), I decided I'd draw some fan art of Duke for it (there are better ones coming up), trying a new style than my normal stuff and using a app that I wouldn't use so much (I work from my phone most of the time- that or paper).

The next chapter will take some time- not sure how long as I've got the good ol' writers block. ( 'Д')y━･~~ but it's coming along slowly. So on that note, I thought I'd post this to you guys like I promised, and not to irritate y'all.

Hope to get the next chapter finished soon for you guys.

Watermelon-ice
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