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Chapter 2

The Marquiss of Lansdowne rued the day he let himself be pressured into attending Lady Bastille’s ball by his nimble brained God brother. This was the last time he let something as stupid as family relations draw him to do that which he promised himself not to do. He knew! Some part of him knew that he would get tangled in this match making masquerade if he mustered the gall to attend. This was the first society gathering he had the audacity to attend in the past three years.

“My Lord, my daughter has now been seen with you unsupervised.” She, who introduced herself as Mrs Wellington, was too thrilled to have the Marquiss of Lansdowne paired with her daughter that she failed to assume the ‘parent in despair’ disguise.

Solaire Gideon Damaris didn’t flinch and to the untrained eye he could have easily been mistaken for one of the many marble statutes sitting throughout the Bastille’s garden. It was the finest garden in the country and it was no surprise that men often found themselves exploring her depths whenever at the Bastille house. In fact, numerous artists from across the Country often begged permission to spend time in this garden. Solaire’s reason had less to do with exploring the grandeur, especially since he’d spent most of his youth doing just that with countless warm bodies in this very garden, and more to do with avoiding the hungry gazes his entrance at tonight’s ball solicited.

Solaire turned his attention to the present situation, the matter too trivial for him to fully lend his consideration. As far as he knew, there was an unwritten rule that females were to steer clear of midnight musings in this particular garden. A few too many of his peers have been instant husbands. Their body’s falling under the sensual spell this particular allotment of shrubbery casted. He scoffed inwardly. A man who allows his desires to lead him by the nose was naught but a fool. Temptation wasn’t meant to be given into. The consequences were always injurious. That is he could never find himself interested in unmarried women of the ton. They are nothing but unfulfilling temptations.

“I have since long avoided society Madame but doesn’t convention dictate that your daughter not be made to wonder about into dark, secluded parts of gardens unsupervised? Especially where men are a frequent commodity?” He took two steps closer, his mere shadow causing Mrs. Wellington to cower.

“I am afraid that her father will insist on you marrying her, My Lord.” She shot back, her trembling hands tucked beneath some fabric of her skirt. A brave attempt to seem unfazed by Solaire’s hard lines and cold eyes.

The Marquiss of Lansdowne had proclaimed to the world that he would never marry by his continued interest in steering clear of ladies of the ton. He preferred to entertain the company of experienced women. He was even rumoured to have been the lover of many married women of the ton, although, those rumours have never been confirmed. His reputation, however, had provided him protection. Few mama’s had the audacity to link him with their daughters and yet there were some that were too hopeful for their own good.

“You seem to be severely mistaken Madame,” he pronounced each word sluggishly peering slightly at the too shy to catch his gaze, Miss Wellington, “Contrary to your ill seated expectations, my presence here tonight isn’t to find a wife.”

“Think of her reputation, My Lord, especially now that you have taken liberties with her.”

“I have done no such thing.” Solaire declared on the wisp of smile. “Surely, Madame you must know that if I were to ravish your daughter her state would not be quite so…” he let his words trail of as he trailed his eyes openly along the length of Miss Wellington, “impeccable. I am a passionate man; surely I would have torn off a button or two at the very least.”

The Wellington women gasped at the openness in which he spoke. No gentlemen would dare in the presence of an unmarried female and her mother.

“Have you no honour, My Lord? My daughter is an innocent. News of you interfering with her person shall ruin her.” Mrs. Wellington clutched her bosom, but this did nothing but accentuate the rise and fall of them.

“I prefer my women experienced, Madame. I have no desire to play teacher to the innocent.” He took the opportunity to slip his hands into his trouser pockets. “As for your daughter’s reputation, that certainly has naught to do with me. If she says someone took liberties with her I can assure you, you have confronted the wrong scoundrel.”

“How can you be so cruel!” Mrs. Wellington cried.

“I can endeavour to ask you the like. Not five seconds went by since your daughter entered this part of the garden and you were on her heels. I also noted that you encouraged her to venture after me.” He recalled Mrs. Wellington pushing her daughter towards him from the moment he entered the ballroom. Lucky for him, Lady Bastille is of vain predicament and her ballroom is lined with numerous mirrors, allowing him to note the commotion behind him.

She was speechless. Mrs. Wellington grabbed her daughter by the hand and scoffed.

“You are a disgrace. You do not deserve the title of a gentleman.” She spat at him turning on her heels to storm off.

“This charade may have been capable of hooking a gentleman Madame but I assure you I am no gentleman.” He responded calmly, happy once again to stride about in solitude. He’d taken a few long strides, the light emanating from the Bastille house unable to illuminate the path he took. His strides slowed as his vision became obstructed by shadows. Solaire paused; in the midst of turning around he heard the faintest sounds. It seemed as though the darkness was summoning him. He peered into the blackness wondering if the sound was a conjuring of his mind. Time passed and the sound travelled again. This time it flowed through the shrubbery in harmony. The voice was clearly female and musical.

Solaire’s feet took him forward. He wasn’t particularly a music enthusiast but the voice was hypnotic. He could see a faint silhouette hunched down against a huge oak tree, the sound louder, filling his senses to the brim.

“What on earth are you doing this far?” The spell was broken. Solaire turned to face Russell Weatherton, his God brother.

“Are you finished wooing your Lady?” Solaire felt no humour. His eyes flickering back to the silhouette.

Russell always had the foulest timing!

“She is the most breath-taking woman I have ever met. I shall make an offer for her soon, I think” He stared off into the sky and Solaire stopped listening. Any musings about love and marriage, he didn’t want to hear. Physically incapable of stomaching it. His mind, eyes and ears were focused on the mysterious figure.

“Mendora! God Heavens, if mother knew you were here she would die!” a shriller voice skipped in the wind, whether it was due to shock or was the nature of the owner’s true tone, he most certainly couldn’t tell.

A name. Solaire listened closely, using a flick of his hand to silence the mutterings of his stunned God brother. Russell muttered his disapproval at being shushed, his feelings bruised to the point of his sealing his lips with a wayward glance at Solaire, wondering what else could be more important than the prospect of him taking his place in society as a responsible man.

“Do not be dramatic Teresa.” The figure stood. “As it stands no one would believe that I wondered in here to be compromised.” A slight chuckle, a musing that illuminated how ridiculous she thought her companion’s reaction.

“And why is that?” Teresa questioned with a huff.

Solaire was also curious as to the answer to be given by the songstress. It was his astute understanding that all women had to be weary of being compromised, or at the very least being caught indulging in elicit pleasures.

“Simply because no one would wish to compromise me.” She laughed. Even her laughter was melodious and soothing to Solaire. There were men aplenty that would jump at the opportunity to compromise a woman of the ton and he knew for a fact that affection had naught to do with it.

“Are you ready to leave yet?” Russell pulled Solaire back into their conversation, growing tired of being kept standing about like a fool. Solaire gazed through the hedging and noted no more silhouettes. A pity. Why? Of that certainty was a far of notion overpowered by his latent curiosity. Curiosity that had laid dormant for far too long.

“I was ready the moment we arrived.” He adjusted his coat, turned on his heels and walked back towards the house. Russell quickly followed.

“Do you not want to meet her?” Russell questioned as he caught up with his God brother, his steps slowing as he fell in line with Solaire’s purposeful strides. His excitement at courtship sickened Solaire. How else to explain the bile swimming upwards in his throat? “I would very much like for you to meet her.” Russell carried on, unperturbed by his friend’s lack of interest. He had enough for the both of them.

“I am sure there will be many opportunities for me to meet her.” Solaire drawled, wishing he was closer to his carriage. Closer to conclusion of this pained discourse he no doubt found useless.

“You, my friend, are jealous that I have found my lover.” Russell was starry eyed. Solaire inhaled deeply, pushing his innate desire to throttle the love-sick fool aside and centre his attentions on more pressing matters.

“I enjoy my freedom. I cannot possibly be tied to one manipulating female for my life.” His tone was harsher than expected. Russell paused beside him. Solaire looked over his shoulder and raised his brow.

“I implore you to take such words back. I will not have you sullying the woman I love because of your own bias.” He had the nerve to appear angry. Solaire’s lip twitched in amusement.

“Alright, as you wish.” Solaire continued his path to his carriage. He preferred to venture through the lawn instead of through the house. There was no need of him being seen any longer in society. Those match-making mamas’ might get the wrong impression.

Russell, knowing that was as good of an apology that he may ever hope to receive, fell in step beside his God brother, any and all hard feelings dissipating with the course of the wind.

“Are you heading back to your home estate in Lansdowne tonight?” Russell inquired.

“I have a few business calls to attend to in the area so I’d head back to my parents’ house instead,” he replied flippantly.

“How long has it been since you saw them?” Russell himself could not recall the last time Solaire was present at any family gatherings.

“Not long enough.” He declared as he dashed into his carriage.

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