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CHAPTER1

“Idid not think that any of them would turn out like this,” Lydia Lambert, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Russton, heard someone say nearby. She recognized the voice. It belonged to an old friend of her late mother’s, and most certainly, the woman was talking about Lydia herself and her sisters.

“Like what?” another voice asked. Lydia wondered that herself as she eavesdropped on a conversation that was about her yet not meant for her.

“Well, so… appropriately,” the woman replied with incredulity in her voice.

Lydia looked proudly around the ballroom, congratulating herself on a job well done. Her rosy, freckled cheeks were glowing with delight as she watched her younger sister, Selina, dance with the Viscount of Lipton and their youngest sister Anna converse joyfully with the other ladies. Things were finally all in their place as they should be. There would be weddings afoot, and she was the one responsible for the joyful union.

“… late mother… absent father… older sister took good care of them…” That was all Lydia heard as she distanced herself from the ladies and this conversation. She had heard enough.

She exhaled with relief, thinking that she deserved a break. All this stress of being a constant help to her sisters had started to take a toll on her. Truth be told, it was simply how life had turned out for them. The untimely and tragic death of their mother left the Lambert family in a state of utter disarray.

The Earl, although a kind and loving man who would do anything for his daughters, was completely oblivious to the needs of three young girls. He always expected his wife to be there, to lead them onto the right path and eventually into the arms of a loving husband. Without the matronly presence, the Earl felt lost, like a ship in the open seas having entered a tempest without any sight of salvation in the form of land.

Quickly, it became obvious to Lydia that she would need to be the motherly presence in her sisters’ lives. As for her… well, her own happiness would not be a priority. First, she needed to lead her sisters onto the right path and only then, focus on herself.

Suddenly, she felt someone’s reassuring hand on her shoulder. She turned around and was met with her father’s loving gaze. She smiled back.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, mostly so he would not worry. She would rather have a moment of peace with her own thoughts.

“Why aren’t you with your sisters or with your friends?” he wondered. “I hate to see you all alone.”

She almost told him that she’d had so few precious moments alone lately that she relished every single one of them. But he would not understand, just like he did not understand many things that were happening lately.

“I shall join them in a moment, rest assured,” she said, propping herself up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. “I think I need a breath of fresh air first.”

“Would you like me to accompany you?” he suggested.

“No,” she shook her head, and at that moment, someone by her father’s side, an old friend, pulled him back into the conversation which obviously needed his presence to continue.

Throwing one last glance to assure herself that everything was truly in order with her sisters, she headed out into the garden for some fresh air. The garden was illuminated enough for her to venture a little further away from the house, seeking a moment of peace and solitude. Surrounded by tall blossoming flower beds, tall trees, and thick shrubbery, she closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Then, suddenly, she heard angry voices coming from the other side of the thick, bushy fence. She tried to peer through it, but the thick leaves and the darkness did not allow her to see clearly or to see at all, for that matter. If she wished to see the two men, she would need to walk around the fence towards the opening.

Everything inside of her told her she should head back. This was none of her business whatever it was these two men were discussing. But Lydia Lambert was a lover of a good mystery, and what was more mysterious than two men arguing while concealed in the garden?

Led by curiosity, Lydia walked closer. Ever since she was a little child, she loved solving puzzles and mysteries. She would have one of the servants hide an object then leave clues as to its whereabouts. Lydia had come a long way in her search for good mysteries since those days, but this one promised to be the biggest one yet. There was no chance that Lydia would allow this chance to slip past her. She had to see what all this was about, even if that knowledge came at a price. After all, didn’t the solution to all good mysteries come at a certain price? The only question was whether someone was willing to pay it or not.

With those thoughts in mind, Lydia tiptoed closer. The voices were becoming clearer. She could hear what they were saying, instead of only snippets. Revealing only a part of her face, she caught a glance of the two men. One seemed familiar. The other, who had his back turned to her, did not. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness easily although there was enough light coming from the torches around.

“Tell me, damn you!” the one facing her demanded of the other, his voice laden with fury. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“I do not owe you any explanations!” the other one spat back even more angrily.

Light from a nearby torch illuminated the first man’s face. He was tall, much taller than what was considered to be average male height. His shoulders were equally broad to match his height, and his arms were long, ending in fingers that were now curled up into fists. His brown hair was tousled, wild, and curly, but his eyes were what captured her attention. They were a striking blue, the color of pure rainfall. She could see that even from this distance as his eyes shone bright in the darkness, fueled with despair and rage.

The other man still had his back turned to her. He was shorter. His voice was deeper, and it resembled a growl more than human speech. His entire body was positioned forward as if he were about to attack the other man. He was merely biding his time, waiting for the right moment.

“Answer me!” the other man demanded, sounding enraged. He obviously needed this information as much as he needed the air to breathe. Lydia wondered who the woman in question was. Perhaps a paramour? A sister? Someone obviously very important if that man was willing to make such a scene during a ball.

“If you keep pestering gentlemen such as myself on these issues, I shall make sure that you are cast away from thetonin no time,” the man with his back to Lydia threatened.

She wondered if such a threat had any weight. If the other man valued his position in society, he would not be here, verbally attacking this man and demanding answers so publicly. He probably did not care one bit what thetonwould think of his total lack of manners. He was obviously trying to find out something important, and he refused to allow anyone to stand in his way.

“I shall keep pestering whoever I damn well please,” the man with the questions growled his insistence, “until I have the answers I am searching for!”


Tags: Sally Vixen Historical