Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Vivianne hated the London Season. Every evening, it seemed, there was an event that they had to attend—and that very evening, they found themselves at Lady Tamrin Stevenson’s garden party, a lavish annual affair that showcased the height of the London ton .

The sprawling gardens were meticulously manicured with vibrant flowers blooming in every corner, their fragrances blending into a sweet, intoxicating perfume that hung in the warm summer air. Ornate tables adorned with delicate flower arrangements dotted the lawn, while a special area had been set up for dancing on one side, where couples gracefully swayed to the gentle strains of a string quartet.

Vivianne didn’t mingle with the guests. She left that to Aurelia, who smiled politely at acquaintances and engaged in light conversation, but her own eyes constantly searched the crowd. Her goal was clear: to avoid Lord Kinsington at all cost. She had no desire to endure another uncomfortable encounter.

She followed Aurelia as she floated from one group to the next, never lingering in one place. Her own laughter was non-existent, while Aurelia’s was melodious and enchanting.

She spoke little, excusing herself often, always moving away, always searching for a safe haven from Lord Kinsington’s gaze. Despite her best efforts, she could feel his eyes on her, a cold shiver running down her spine whenever she sensed his presence nearby. How long would she need to endure that?

“Are you all right?” Aurelia asked at one point.

“Yes, why?” she asked in turn, not wishing to worry her sister. Neither Aurelia nor their mother knew who the man really was, nor did she want to be the one to reveal the truth to them.

He was the only man still giving her mother the hope that her older daughter would get married. Secretly, Vivianne hoped that Aurelia would be allowed to marry before her, if her own marriage was certain to take place in the near future. Vivianne would, of course, maneuver that somehow to benefit her, but for the time being, she had to endure Lord Kinsington’s presence as well as his advances.

“You seem concerned,” Aurelia said, looking at her sister with a worried gaze of her own.

“I am just focused on what is happening around us.” Vivianne smiled. At least, that much was true. She wasn’t lying.

“I know, but there is something—” Aurelia started, but she stopped when a young man approached them, bowing respectfully before her.

“I beg your pardon for the intrusion, ladies, but I was wondering if I might steal you, Lady Aurelia, for a dance?” he asked in a sweet, polite manner. Vivianne didn’t know the young man’s name, but she remembered Aurelia having spoken to him on several occasions, and from what Vivianne could see, her sister enjoyed the time spent with him.

“Vivianne?” Aurelia turned to her sister with a smile. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not.” Vivianne smiled back. She didn’t wish to be left alone, but she couldn’t force her sister to be by her side the entire time. She would simply go and find her mother and pretend that she had something urgent and important to talk to her about. “Do go and enjoy yourselves.”

“Thank you.” Aurelia leaned in and kissed her sister’s cheek. Then she accepted the young man’s offered arm and allowed him to lead her among the other dancing couples.

Vivianne watched her sister beam with joy. It was absolutely astonishing how perfectly Aurelia fit in with the rest of the ton . She was like a star in the night sky, with everyone drawn to her like a magnet. It was impossible not to like her, not to be amazed by her, charmed by her. And Vivianne… she was everything her sister was not. She sighed silently to herself, wondering if she would ever be allowed to lead the sort of life she wanted.

“Ah, there you are, my dear.”

The voice made all the little hairs on her body stand on end.

“Lord Kinsington.” She turned to face him, keeping a safe distance from him, but he decided to invade her personal space nonetheless.

“I have locked eyes with you on several occasions, but it seems you have been insistent on ignoring me,” he said, leaning even closer to her, dangerously so. She swallowed heavily, glancing about. Her parents were nowhere to be seen, and her sister was cozying up to the young gentleman she was dancing with. There was no one to turn to.

“Ignoring you?” she asked, chuckling awkwardly in an effort to give his words less weight. “Why would I ignore you?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “I was wondering the same thing myself. To tell you honestly, I’ve been unable to get you out of my mind since the last time we met.” His expression was a mixture of triumph and something far less pleasant. That was when his hand gently gripped her elbow.

Vivianne tried to pull her arm free, but his grip tightened. “Lord Kinsington,” she replied, her voice icy. “If you would be so kind as to let me go. This is highly inappropriate.”

He ignored her, his eyes roving over her in a way that made her skin crawl. “You look good enough to ravish in that gown,” he said, his gaze lingering on the neckline. He licked his lips before continuing. “I mean, you look ravishing, my dear. I apologize, sometimes I speak exactly what I mean, do not hold it against me.” He grinned.

She knew better than to consider that an apology for his words. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her expression composed.

“I will not if you promise not to let it happen again,” she said calmly, but inside of her, there was a storm of rage and fear.

“I know I am being highly inappropriate,” he replied, finally letting go of her, but he didn’t step away. His shadow lurked over her, possessing her form. “But you know we will be married soon, my dear. You should get used to my… attentions.”

She stiffened, her eyes flashing with even more anger. The very thought of marrying this man filled her with disgust. I would rather die, she promised herself, but she wisely kept that to herself.

“I do not remember having agreed to any such thing, Lord Kinsington. And your behavior… it is ungentlemanly, to say the least.”

He frowned, then burst into a chuckle. “Too polite to even insult me properly? I like that. In fact, I like many things about you, Vivianne.”

She hated the way he pronounced her name, accentuating the second part, dragging it for too long. His leer deepened, and he brushed a thumb over the exposed skin of her arm, sending a shiver of revulsion through her.

“I have so many plans for us. You will make a fine wife once I am done with you. Obedient and… compliant.”

Viviane’s temper flared and she took a step back from him, finally breaking away not only from his grasp but also from his shadow. She wanted to tell him how disgusting he was, that he would never have, not while there was a single breath left in her body, but before she could say anything, she heard someone’s voice from behind them.

“I hope you aren’t stealing my dance, Kinsington.”

When Vivianne turned around, she locked eyes with the most handsome man she had ever seen. Standing at what had to be at least six-foot-four, he towered over those around him, commanding attention with his mere presence.

His ice-blue eyes, sharp and discerning, contrasted strikingly with the dark curls that tumbled fashionably over his forehead. The unruly locks added a boyish charm to his otherwise chiseled features, making him all the more captivating.

High cheekbones framed his handsome face, giving him a distinguished and aristocratic air. His imposing nose and strong jawline further accentuated his striking appearance, each feature perfectly balanced to create an image of both power and refinement. His broad shoulders and well-defined physique hinted at a life of physical activity, though he carried himself with the effortless grace of someone born into privilege.

“Chesterfield,” Lord Kinsington replied, proving that the two men knew each other. “I didn’t know you were set to dance with Lady Vivianne.”

“Yes,” the man said simply. “You should learn to wait your turn.”

Lord Kinsington’s nostrils flared. “You should think twice before speaking to your elders in such a manner,” Lord Kinsington hissed.

“Yes, you are absolutely right.” The man suddenly changed his tune. “I was being rude. I apologize. You should show me, by example, how I should behave. If I have asked Lady Vivianne to dance before you did, that means I get to dance with her now, does it not?”

Vivianne almost burst into a chuckle. Lord Kinsington didn’t know what to say. He was put on the spot, and forced to agree with the man, although from the looks of it, he would rather plant him a facer in front of everyone.

“It does,” Lord Kinsington finally acquiesced, watching the man offer Vivianne his arm, which she gratefully accepted, allowing him to lead her away and into the circle of dancing couples.

He faced her, taking her hand into his own, and his other hand gently rested in the small of her back. Vivianne suddenly blushed, having no idea why she had such a reaction to that man, when he had said nothing yet. He was handsome beyond description, and all eyes were on them.

She could tell without even a single glance around them. It was impossible not to notice this man, and seeing him dance with the frigid DuPont daughter clearly made everyone curious as to what on earth was happening.

“It seemed like you needed help,” she heard him say as the music started and they swayed to the rhythm. He was quite knowledgeable in the skill of dance, but something warned her to be careful about complimenting the man.

“I could have handled the situation myself,” she corrected him.

“Are you certain?” he asked mischievously, swirling her away only to welcome her back into his arms. For some reason, her entire body shivered upon feeling his hands on her again. She had no idea what the sensation was or what could have caused it.

“I have handled myself before, without your presence,” she replied calmly, not wanting to show him that the proximity of his body had a physical effect on her. She could feel her hands becoming clammy and had a desperate desire to wipe her palms against her gown, but she couldn’t—not while she was dancing, at least.

“You do seem like the sort of lady to handle yourself well, Lady Vivianne,” he commented. “You know, you remind me a little of Rosalind.”

“Rosalind?” Vivianne echoed. She couldn’t remember having met a single lady named Rosalind lately, especially not one that she herself would resemble. But then, the man’s elaboration took her off guard.

“Yes, Rosalind.” He nodded as they continued to dance. “The central character in Shakespeare’s—”

“ As You Like It .” They named the play at the same time, smiling at each other.

“Yes.” He nodded again. “That is the one.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well, it is quite simple,” he said, as her palms became even more clammy, and all she could hope was that he wouldn’t notice. “Rosalind is beautiful and charming, with a captivating presence. But that is not what makes her so exceptional. It is her wit, her sharp tongue, her perceptiveness, and her remarkable ability to adapt to her circumstances.”

“Is that so?” she asked, wondering if someone had perhaps described her in passing to him and he was now merely repeating what someone else had said without actually having read the play himself. It was not unheard of, for gentlemen to pretend to read when they did not care one bit about books. “What is it that she did that was so striking?” she urged, wishing to see if he had actually read the play.

He grinned at her question, almost as if he had anticipated it. “She takes on the guise of a young man to navigate the complexities of life in the forest,” he explained. “Despite her disguise, her true identity shines through in moments of vulnerability and wisdom.”

“What is her name?” she asked again.

“Her name?” he echoed, then, “Oh, you mean when she’s in disguise? Wait…” He seemed to ponder, his eyes looking up at the chandeliers as if they might hide the answer to her question.

He swirled her away from himself yet again, but their fingers were still touching. She couldn’t stop thinking about the heat, the trembling, the utterly unnerving state of her own body and mind in this man’s presence. She had no idea what it was about him that affected her so. It has to be the fact that everyone is looking at us, she tried to assure herself. That has to be it.

When she faced him again, he smiled, revealing a row of pearly whites. “Ganymede.”

“Correct.” She smiled back, unable to resist.

“Were you testing me just now?” he wondered playfully.

“Just to see if you actually read it,” she confessed, suppressing a smirk.

“And what if I hadn’t?” he inquired mischievously. “Wouldn’t you still be having as much fun as you are having now?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Absolutely not. I do not like lies.”

“It is not a lie,” he teased.

“Everything that isn’t the truth is a lie,” she clarified.

“Hmmm,” he said, frowning. “In that case, I’m not sure you would make a good Rosalind.”

“Perhaps not.” She fought off another smile. It was dangerous to enjoy herself so much with a man she knew nothing of, especially a man as suave and charming as he was. Such suaveness was dangerous. It always came at a price. Yet, he titillated her in a way she refused to admit even to herself.

“I know,” he seemed to remember something, “I shall come up with another character from a book, one you resemble even more, and I shall reveal my choice at Lord and Lady Radcliffe’s ball on Saturday evening. You will attend, won’t you?”

“Perhaps,” she said mysteriously, wanting to sound as charming, as suave as he did, but she knew she was far from that.

“I shall take that as a yes,” he said, and at that moment, the music stopped, signaling the end of their dance. “And I shall meet you there for our revelation.”

She almost chuckled at the idea. Still, she refused to admit how titillated, how intrigued she was by him and what he represented. Before he could say anything else, he winked at her, proceeding to escort her away from the dancing couples, to the side opposite of where they had left Lord Kinsington. He kissed her hand, and her skin exploded with heat on the spot where his lips touched her hand.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Rosalind,” he jested, turning away and disappearing from sight, leaving her with a palpitating heart and a hand that still burned from his touch.