(COMPLETED)
Before the Duke of Wardington, before marriage, and before the games of marrying off his three sons and their friends, there was simply Lord Martin...
There's only one sort for a rogue and that's more rogues.
So... when Martin and his f...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ellen watched the way Lord Martin was looking at Abigail and gave out a sigh of relief. The stare reminded her of the one he'd just given her a few moments ago. The one she'd had to run from. A look of wanting. Yet now, here he was, giving it to Abigail. His green eyes were full of desire and need. And he wasn't the only one looking at Abigail like so.
Any man with eyes, married or unwed, rich or poor, young and old, was watching Abigail. She was like light in movement with her blond hair and starry eyes. And she was laughing at whatever Charles was saying to her, which surprised Ellen. She'd only met Charles on a few occasions, and funny didn't seem his strong suit. But, apparently, the man could do whatever he set his mind to, including make Abigail laugh, which seemed to be what Martin lived for. He enjoyed making everyone laugh, loved the attention, but Ellen could tell that he liked Abigail's attention a little more.
She told herself this was good. Martin was no longer looking at her. And that suited her just fine. But as the couples drew closer to one another, apprehension set in. This crowd was nothing like the ruffians in her father's dukedom, especially her brothers, who she'd spent most of her time with. These people of Society were more tamed than what she was used to, and Albion had warned her it would be so. He'd called London a bore and refused to come. Harcourt had agreed, saying the only thing good in London was found in the gambling halls with drunken barmaids. Her brothers hid nothing from Ellen, but they'd been right about this place.
Peers here walked and talked differently, which was why Ellen had simply chosen to stay silent more often than not. Julia had coached her, but without Julia around, Ellen was quite uncertain of what to do in this situation.
It was the very reason why Ellen had chosen to allow Martin to take her on the drive and walk through the park. She was more comfortable around him than anyone else. His charm reminded her of her brothers. He was different from the others. A wonderful oddity in that which was the demimonde. She wanted to be his friend... But then he'd gone and looked at her the way he'd done a moment ago. And—
"Lady Ellen." Lord Charles bowed.
"Lord Charles." And it was Charles to her. He, Martin, and Cecil had all given her liberty to call them by their Christian names, as was part of some friendship pact they'd made with Sally, Julia, and Abigail when they were all younger. No last names in their group, so Ellen had given them the same, wishing to be part of their circle of friends.
Though being formal at all seemed so strange to her. She truly wished they'd drop the 'lady' and simply call her Ellen. But she knew that would most likely bring the aristocracy down upon her head. That was something Ellen didn't want.
The women and the men greeted one another.
"It's a beautiful day for a stroll, is it not?" Abigail was a statue of the peerage brought to life. She, out of all the women in the group, was very foreign to Ellen, and yet with her songstress voice and genuine smile, you really couldn't help but want to be around her. She was good and kind, and Ellen could see what Martin saw in her.
