Saving the Gentleman (BOOK II)

***

There are days when the past feels nearer than the present.

I have long since learned to silence it because I know how dangerous it is to live in a dream, especially when reality is Hell. And for me, that dream which I am constantly lost in revolves around a certain girl.

A simple girl, though she called my name as if I were someone worth saving, and that, I believe, made her far more complicated than I could ever understand.

But time has passed. While she grows more distant by the day, I have grown powerful; influence replaces innocence while secrets replace faith. I have no time to chase dreams, not when the ones I already have leave scars that should never be seen.

And I plan to keep it as such.

“The most eligible bachelor in all of Great Britain, and you are hiding away in a corner like a mouse in the dark.” An unwelcome arm slung over my shoulder, followed by words that I could not deny. Although me being described as a mouse could not have been further from the truth.

“Peter, what is a married man such as yourself doing here? Last I checked, the Season is focused on unmarried people from the ton.” I spared the shorter man a glance before shifting my attention back unto the scene before me.

Glasses clinked. Perfume and candlelight wove through the air. Ballgowns and tuxedos rippled around me in sickeningly colourful waves, every shade fighting to outshine the other.

It was that time of year again, the Season of promises, as they called it this year. A time for new love, new fortunes, and old pretence. To me, it reeked of desperation. But it was the opening ball hosted by the royal family, and unless I wish to make an enemy of the crown, I had no right to refuse attendance.

I had been standing near a marble pillar, glass in hand, half-listening to the meaningless chatter nearby before Peter, a distant cousin of mine, decided to interrupt.

“Come now, Ambrose, married as I might be, my joy for parties, especially ones hosted by her majesty, the Queen, is something that will never fade.” He chuckled, but I could not find anything amusing in what he said.

It is quite obvious that, unlike him, mingling with people from the ton is nothing more than a chore to me, and even as people are pressuring me to find a wife now that I am entering my thirties, I could not feel the urgency as they wished I did for one sole reason; I have no desire to continue my lineage.

And that is something that I cannot forsee changing in any coming future.

“But since you, clearly, do not enjoy these gatherings as much as I do, have you never thought of simply getting married and being done with the annual chore? If you were married then you would not be forced to attend every year.” He was not wrong in that sense, but I could not agree.

Marriage was too big a commitment for someone such as me, and I could not justify putting myself through it, let alone an unsuspecting young woman who would most likely enter the said marriage hoping to attain love.

“As I have told you countless times before, I have no plans to wed anyone. Ever.” Speaking to this man was starting to feel like a bigger chore than dancing through any boring ball, I realised.

“I see you are the same as usual today.” I was hoping he would have gotten the hint that I did not wish to continue this conversation any further. “Well, I am sure we can find a woman in here that will love you despite it.” I stand corrected.

And before I could threaten him to stop, he had already waved his hand to a group of waiting women who looked ready to pounce, inviting them over with a friendly smile and promising future. Well, he was about to be sorely disappointed.

“Good evening, ladies. You all look stunning tonight, and my cousin here would agree. Although, he is not as vocal about it as I am.” Peter jabbed me on the ribs, pushing me to open my mouth. Which is exactly what I did.

“Only because I am thinking the opposite of what he is saying.” His head shot to look at me, surprise and disappointment merged together, and unfortunate for him, I could not care less about what he or anyone else in this room thought of me. But unfortunate for me, these women had thicker skin than I gave them credit for. They were unmoved by my words, choosing to ignore it with fake laughs.

When you hold as much money and influence to your name as I do, it seems that even insults can become compliments.

“I was not aware that you were such a jokester, Mr Callisto. If I had known, I would have approached you much earlier.” The lady in the middle, blonde with bright blue eyes, stepped forward, fluttering her fan in our faces.

“I am glad that you did not.” The harsher my words got, the louder her giggles did too.

“Would you care to ask me for a dance, Mr. Callisto?” She finally gained the courage to ask, offering a smile that had no sincerity in it with her dance card swaying from her wrist like bait.

“Oh, do not waste your time, Clara.” Another woman said, pushing past her with a laugh that grated on my ears. “Mr. Callisto would much rather dance with the daughter of a baron.” She spoke as though her words were fact,but little did she know.

“Pick one of them, cousin, and soon. I am afraid they will start wrangling one another if you do not.” Peter subtly whispered, doing very little to convince me.

“But would that not be a sight to see?” He spared me a displeased glare for a single second before returning to that usual fake smile of his.

“Well, Mr Callisto?” One of the girls pushed.

“In all honesty, I would much rather finish my drink... But please, since you both seem quite desperate for a dance, might I suggest that you dance with one another?” And gasps escaped their lips, faces staining red with humiliation. That should do it.

Draining the rest of my drink, I passed my empty glass to a passing footman.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I must find another corner of this ballroom to hide in before I retire for the evening.” And as if to apologise for my harsh words, I flashed them the same fake smile which they have all been flaunting this evening before turning on my heels and walking away.

Or so, that had been the plan.

As I retreated, a figure walked passed me, stilling me on the spot.

In a blur of lavender and silk, she whispered a quiet “Pardon me.” Having almost bumped into me before continuing on her way, head cast down, but the smile was evident, and familiar. Instantly drowning me in a wave of memories which I was so certain that I had almost been rid of. Until this very second.

“Ambrose. I am aware that you are uninterested in marriage, but that was no way to treat a young lady. You are supposed to be a gentleman from rich roots, not a rake with no social etiquitte...” Peter’s words, for the umpteenth time, returned me to reality, and he did not sound like he would stop talking anytime soon.

“-Did you see that?” I asked, cutting him off, standing frozen still in the middle of the room as eyes began to notice me, waiting for the opportune moment to appraoch.

“See what? Those ladies faces which were flushed red in embarassment? If so, then yes.” He was such a stick in the mud, I rolled my eyes.

“Not that... Her.” I blinked, once and then twice, wondering if my memories and reality had blurred into a merciful hallucination. And with these eyes which felt as though they were made only to revel in her beauty, I searched for her like darkness does to light.

And it was no difficult task to find her. She stood out like gold amongst all these people; I found her almost instantaneously.

“There she is.”

“Who is there, cousin?” He called, confused, squinting his eyes as he scanned the room.

“The embodiment of all my dreams, all my promises, and all my desires...” And I would be nothing short of a fool to allow her to slip away. “I said I would never marry anyone. I said that this lineage would end with me...” And I had been so certain of it.

“Yes, and what of it?” He pushed, surprise in his tone. But his surprise was nothing compared to mine. Who would have thought that I would be swallowing everything I ever said about marriage for a single woman?

“If I can make that woman mine... then I would marry her a thousand times over and still crave her. To call her my wife, I would burn every promise I made to never wed, and I would do it smiling.” Stunned by my words, he froze in his place, but I did not. I continued to walk, following the sound of her laughter and the blur of her figure.

And then I heard it.

A name. A resounding echo calling out to me. It made my heart thump; fast, surprised, and filled with emotion. Confirming that she was real.

All those memories which I thought I had locked away; one look at her and I realised that in her presence, I had no power. I could never forget this woman, no matter how hard I tried because whether I accept it or not, it remains a fact that I revolve around her very being.

“Miss Arianna Monroe.” Someone said nearby, lightly, familiarly.

That was the name. It was a single name, neither common nor uncommon, but it confirmed what I had been worried about. She was still unwed. And that was all I needed to know to make my move.

One step at a time, I found myself slowly advancing towards her. With each step I took, her voice grew clearer and more beautiful. It was like a sweet, melodious tune that dimmed my senses like a drug, and before I knew it, I found myself stopping a few feet away from her.

She quietly spoke to a woman, her chaperone, I guessed, with a laughter in her voice. “It is truly so fun, Anne, trust me. You must dance at least one dance tonight before we return hom.” What lucky man has beat me in taking her hand in dance, I wondered. But whomever it might have been, I can promise myself that he will not be getting a second.

As my presence became known, her chaperone was the first to notice me, eyes widening in surprise while Arianna, much to my amusement, continued to chatter about dances. No matter how much time may pass, some things truly never change.

“Pardon the interruption, my lady.” I announced, arms politely linked behind my back as I watched her still for a moment before slowly turning her head to look at me.

And my, what a beautiful sight she was.

So achingly familiar that I found myself freezing on the spot. My past, and everything I wished to have and to hold, stared straight at me through those unchanging eyes of hers. A bright hazel, shining brigher than a thousand stars. She was magnificent. No doubt, she has grown into a woman, far more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, and that young girl who had been haunting my memories was nothing more than an echo inside her.

“Consider yourself pardonned, sir. What may I help you with?” Her voice unfurled, and although it sounded more matured than what I recall, it carried the same sense of childhood innocence as when we were younger.

Picking my lips up into a smile, I bent into a bow for her, my hand outstretching to ask for hers.

“Perhaps a dance? Nothing would make me happier today than if you, the bell of this ball, would accept my hand for a single dance.” She blinked, taken aback by my words, and for a moment, she did not reply, simply staring at me instead as if I were an unknown species. Despite that, I remained firm in my stance, waiting patiently for her response.

“Aria, you cannot keep the kind gentleman waiting all night.” Her chaperone whom I assumed was also her older sister, whispered not-so-subtly.

“Oh, right, pardon me, sir... I would love to dance with you.” Her lips curved into a gentle smile, pink as a petal, and before I knew it, I was smiling back. A true smile, not one born of courtesy or pretense, but of something that was achingly real.

As she reached for my hand, her gloved fingers brushing against mine, a shiver stirred beneath my skin, but I embraced it, accepting the power which she held. And tightening my grip, I let my thumb drag slowly across the silk covering her hand. The fabric was soft, but not half as soft as I imagined her skin would be beneath it.

The orchestra shifted, violins weaving into a melody as smooth as honey as I led her to the dance floor, and for a fleeting moment, when I caught her gaze under the brightness of the chandelier, I thought I might be dreaming again, but this time, I did not care to wake.

When my hand came to rest at her waist, even through the layers of satin and lace, I felt her breath catch, assuring me that I was not alone in feeling this sensation of electricity between us. Nevertheless, we began to move; slow and deliberate, every step measured yet far too intimate for the eyes that watched us.

“You are a beautiful dancer.” I complimented, succeeding in catching her laugh.

“You flatter me, sir... Dancing is fun, but I am not blind to the fact that I could definitely use more lessons.” Her soft voice comforted me with every word, and I found myself wishing to continue the conversation, to hear even an extra word from those lips of hers.

“If it helps, you are already worlds better than myself... I am not too keen on dancing, but I will try my best not to trample on your feet.” And the laughter that escaped her lips this time sounded far too real to be fake.

“Then might I ask why you asked for my hand in a dance if you do not care for dancing?” A dangerous question, one she may regret hearing the truth of. Yet I could not stop the words, the truth, spilling forth from my lips.

“So that I could have your attention...” She blinked, not knowing how to take my words because it seems that to her, for now, I am nothing but a stranger.

“Whatever would you want my attention for?” She asked, voice light but curious.

“So that I might tell you...” I started, taking a step back as I spun her around gracefully, our hands linked above her head. “...That I am grateful to you, Miss Arianna Monroe.” And I drew her body back to mine, her hands slightly tightening on my shoulders.

“Grateful? To me?”

“Yes. You are every bit as stunning now as you were on the day we first met. Though perhaps a touch less wild.” Her breath caught, and I noticed a flicker of rememberance in them as I pulled her closer, the distance between us thinning until I could feel the warmth of her breath.

“So you see...” I continued softly. “I am grateful that time has not changed you. You are just as I remember, and now, perhaps even more impossible to forget.”

...

AN/ Book 2 of the Possessive Series has been republished. This is possibly the story that’s been changed the most amongst the series as all the fantasy aspects have been taken out. Now, just like the other stories from this series, this is now also a thriller/dark romance book, but set in the 1800s. I ask for your patience as I try to regularly publish chapters, and more than that, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)