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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"This is better than staying at home, isn't it?" John Delawney asked with a knowing side glance.
Lucian hadn't expected to spend most of his time following his friend in balls and soirées; not when his permission was so short. Delawney had, once more, dragged him to another evening of mingling. It was a great event, with many guests. Overall, Lucian was having a good time, enjoying the presence of his friends, making new ones. He was proudly wearing his brand new Colonel uniform and enjoyed how powerful it made him feel.
"Tonight might be, yes," Lucian concurred. "But yesterday wasn't."
"Ah, yes... Who knew Clifford was into this kind of... thing."
Both men grimaced at the memory of the evening before. Delawney was quickly distracted by one of their friends, who was suggesting a game of cards in a quiet room somewhere. As he sipped on his glass, Lucian scanned the room with attentive eyes.
His inspection came to an abrupt stop when his gaze came upon one of the most gorgeous women he had ever set his eyes on, evolving in her surroundings with a grace and an easiness that made it clear she was born in the highest of worlds.
She was wearing a luxurious Bois de Rose silk dress, and the color heightened her pale complexion. Her figure was lovely, accentuated by the shape of her dress, her waist thinned by the tight corset underneath. She was tall but well-proportioned, and although she was svelte, he could guess the curve of her hips under the layers of fine fabric covering them. Her long and slender neck seemed too frail to carry her head, with her luxuriant hair, as black as onyx, perfectly styled to the current fashion.
Her face was as delicate as the rest of her, even if her jaw was too angular for the standard taste, which was more into round, feminine faces. Her nose was slim, and its tip was slightly turned up. Her mouth was generous, and her lips had a dark shade of pink. Her eyes were so incredibly blue that even from the other side of the room, he could gauge their color. One of her dark eyebrows was a little higher, as she was looking around with annoyance, as if bored with the crowd surrounding her.
He had never liked vanity. Arrogance was one of the worst flaws a man, or a woman, could have, and her smugness should have cut short his fascination for the stranger. But something happened.
Another dark-haired woman with a peach dress came and whispered something in her ear. At first, an amused shock struck the young woman's face, and in a few seconds, a silent laugh overtook her. The other woman broke into giggles too, and they both tried to calm themselves. They were struggling to catch their breath, their lungs confined by tight corsets. The more they were trying to repress it, the harder they would laugh, and he watched, fascinated, as this heavenly creature, who had seemed so cold and arrogant moments ago, became a mortal made of flesh, like the rest of them.
When they finally managed to calm down, both women turned their attention back to the room, and for the first time, Lucian saw the face of the second one. Identical twins.
