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.
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London, 1815
Maeve Langston's aversion to the opposite sex has...
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Maeve was growing increasingly bored with the city. She missed the country, and couldn't wait for the family to move back up north. She had never really enjoyed it when they would come to London for the Season, but at least she had Ailia to pass the time. When together, they were never bored, and even during the dullest of days, they would find something to occupy them, a new topic, a new game...
As much as she missed her sister, Maeve felt like she had been crossed with Ailia for too long now. She didn't know how to get back to her. With time, she had come to realize her reaction had been childish, and she could understand love might be a strong, unstoppable feeling. She loved her sister, and her sister loved her, but it felt as if Ailia suddenly loved her less than a man she barely knew, and that was the real heartbreak.
Nevertheless, she regretted not being on good terms with her twin, as the days passed by horribly slowly. After a long week with only books and her violin to occupy herself, it was Saturday again. Tonight, she was going to another ball, with her sister and her parents.
During the Season, she had to go on one outing per week. It was the agreement she had struck with her parents years ago, and she usually chose the one with the most people, so she could disappear in a corner the entire evening without anyone noticing. That was why she usually chose Saturdays.
Even though she knew it would be like the dozens of others she had been to, she dreaded the ball to come. Or rather, she dreaded seeing him tonight. It had been almost a week since their encounter in Hyde Park, and the memory of it was still crystal clear in her mind.
His cold mask had dropped, and she had had a glimpse of the man he was behind his austere behavior. She had seen how he'd cared for her wellbeing, how he had worried, helping her down from her panic attack. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of confusion. He had, of his own volition, delayed the forfeit she owed him when he was in his right to claim it any time. The remarkably diplomatic gesture has stunned her. As he had said, he wasn't a ruffian. She knew it now, and that knowledge was dangerous for her.
Every time they had come across each other, she had learned something new about the man, and the brooding barbarian she had first thought him to be was seeming more and more like a gentleman. Admittedly, he was somber and liked to keep his distance, but she now felt like it was a defense mechanism, and she knew all too much about those.
Before she was introduced to society, Maeve was a happy, enthusiastic young woman, but with time, she had grown colder and more reserved. She was still the same with the people closest to her, or at least she thought, but the outside world saw her as a frigid, snobby wench. She kept telling herself she was at peace with it, but the truth was it pained her to know that people considered her with disdain. Alas, just like with her twin, it was too late to back out.
Thank God, some people still appreciated her. She had a few friends, among which Delawney was a welcomed addition. For the last few weeks, she had grown particularly fond of him, and she was always glad to see him. He was taking the habit of paying visits to her family and had come for tea earlier during the week. He had entertained them with tales of the West Indies, which fascinated him.
