The Duke's Forbidden Lover (Forbidden #1)

Chapter 11.

What a drag.

Alastair bitterly looked around. He wanted nothing more than to leave the god-awful place. He was invited to yet another party; as a Duke, he had to make his presence known and represent his support for Birmingham.

Alastair could not help the scowl that had crept upon his face.

He was very much cranky after the long day he had. The trading business was a very pesky market, indeed. He was at a charity organisation right after to show his face, though many were too afraid to look at him, and had come to this small house party hosted by god knew who.

As many a person mingled, drinking, associated with bits of chatter here and there, Alastair stood silently, observing others. Tedious balls such as these were an itch he could not get rid of as he was always invited to attend.

Therefore, standing back and away from such commotion was what Alastair found most enjoyable. It meant less chatter to incompetent people who knew nothing and had no common sense. They believed only what was fed to them which only served to infuriate a man like him.

Very soon after, he could feel the fearful stares burning through his head in every which way.

Had such circumstances not have been happening for quite some time, he would have lost his patience long ago. Yet, despite being accustomed to unwanted attention, the looks never failed to irritate him. Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, he stiffly turned his head.

Almost instantly, his eyes met large fearful brown ones that belonged to a young woman. She could not be much older than seventeen. The rosy-cheeked young woman was standing near the piano, the burgundy red gown hugging every curve of her body and making her appear as innocent and youthful as she was.

It failed to appease him and he could feel his lips lifting up into a sneer of disgust. Upon finding his eyes on her, she looked away, her fair hands and slender fingers reaching up and twisting an already curled ringlet, shyly. The sight drew repugnance within him. Had women no shame? Alastair resisted the very urge to narrow his eyes and instead, scoffed to himself.

He despised the thought of women at this point, but he did not want to scare a young woman unless he very well needed to. With that, he looked away not sparing her another glance and stared blankly at the scene before him.

Though his eyes were before him, his mind was wandering elsewhere. Where else, other than a certain insolent woman who would dare to sneak out of his manor, despite direct orders to not do so. He would have laughed at such stubbornness if he was not extremely furious.

He was getting tired of his own actions; warning her yet not punishing. It was a sign of weakness - he did not want the people to run amuck, presuming they can do whatever.

Once he was out of this confined, pesky place, he would have to go back and send for Nalini. He had had enough of her impertinent actions; such behaviour could never be tolerated and he had been turning a blind eye, due to pity.

She had been found with no mention of family, whatsoever. It was quite peculiar, but he did not care the least about the history in which she came. It was time to do what he was very well known for.

"Y-Your Grace," a plump, red-faced woman came stumbling towards him, curtsying low. Alastair clenched his jaw at her insolent interruption but inclined his head, stiffly.

"Might you be interested in chatting with my daughter Lady Delaney? She is quite young and very ambitious," she said, meekly. He didn't want to but at this point, all eyes were on him and any negative word that came out of his mouth would sit badly on not just his decrepit name but on Birmingham's, as well.