Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered
Fanfic by Kendoka Ryu
Disclaimer: This is definitely the imagination of an insane otaku who would be happy to be dirt under Noburo Watsuki-sama's feet. Hope Sony and Watsuki don't sue this baka for borrowing RRK until he's got more serious things to write.
Rating: PG, I guess.
Comments: This is supposed to be romantic, but heck, I don't think I've got a single romantic bone in this body! Anyway, I don't think Kenshin would mind if I put him in England in this fic. 1903 perhaps? I love to imagine my Kaoru in a period dress. In fact I took kendo classes because of her! Gods, I wonder what my girlfriend's gonna say to that? By the way, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance was in effect during this period. I dunno that's a plausible reason to draw some connections between England and Japan.
Anyway, here's chapter 1.
Chapter One: The Viscount of Westmoor
The darkness bleeds shadows
Of pain;
And yet it is your tears
That blind me.
Twelve o'clock. The House of Westmoor is ordinarily restful at this hour, but tonight is not supposed to be ordinary.
No. Ambrose knows that since the lord arrived that evening-a little too early in fact for one invited to the Baron's-he had not been himself. In fact, he had kept to his room, refused calls from Cravenhall and Ravendyll, and ignored to the point of inconvenience the attendance of his maids. It would have been less extraordinary if the viscount had not been known to be a meticulous, demanding, and commanding sort of person. A house rule in Westmoor Hall, in fact, dictates that no servant should rest until the viscount's comforts have been attended to, with absolute and perfect care.
"Lord Himura? Is there something I might help you with?"
The viscount turned around to regard the voice with the slightest annoyance. Hadn't he made it clear that he is not to be disturbed? Besides, as much as he enjoyed attention, he is not the kind to be disturbed by trivial courtesies, especially when more important things preoccupy him at the moment.
Yes. More important things. Like the arrival of news regarding his nearing engagement. It was certainly most welcome, especially when it afforded him much opportunity for drink.
Wanton drunkenness is more like it, he thought lazily, violet eyes still on the letter folded neatly on the table before him. He had a mind to toss it to the nearest fire but gave it a second thought.
A second thought indeed Kenshin smirked, choosing instead to slip the letter into the book he had been reading since that morning. Funny. Of late, he had been thinking deeply thoughts that have little merit for a man of his position and standing. Being a viscount made him realize that opportunity, wealth, honor and fame come to those who are fortunate rather than wise. And no amount of thinking---for that matter, wisdom---will save him now. Besides, thinking gives him a headache, and he can only have enough headaches in one day.
"My Lord? Are you certain you did not call for me at all?"
Violet eyes flickered, to regard the voice this time with the slightest contempt. "Yes, I imagine I did. You wouldn't be here if I didn't, would you?"
"I guess that would depend on-"
"Depend on how long you're willing to serve this household, Ambrose," he interrupted, throwing the book aside, as if the letter's presence had infected it and must be put away. "Besides, I'm well aware that your consistent intrusion into my personal space is one of my uncle's delightfully killing ideas-which allows me to deduce that you've already been informed of the contents of this evening's letter long before I've seen it, true?"
Ambrose, the family's loyal butler for more than thirty years simply shrugged. "Your assumptions are unwarranted my Lord, but pray, let me caution you about Lord Hiko's intentions."
"Huh, caution me, Ambrose?" Kenshin snapped, standing with a sudden jerk. "And what do YOU and my ass of an uncle care if I marry the first whore who has yet to please me in bed?"
Ambrose gave a low, discomfited cough. "I sure do not mean to encourage such a scandalous choice."
"Scandalous? Is there any other word to describe the kinds of things everybody does in England nowadays?"
"I would like to think this outburst of yours, my lord, is nothing but temporary. It's been a long time since you've been in Kyoto and the letter from Lord Hiko reminds you of it. I guarantee though that circumstances abroad could not be any different from ours. definitely NOT better I must say, but refreshing."
Refreshing. an ideal word for something that ignorance describes so well. Kenshin thought, flopping into a chair by the fire. The posture however, is not lost on Ambrose. Anyone standing where he does would agree that the viscount is not the man to be trifled with; not very tall but nevertheless lean and taut, Lord Himura's appearance has often proved to be intimidating. Not that the lord has on all occasions looked severe. Still, women would agree that this darker, haunting side of him draws and seduces more effectively than any of his other charms. But now, illuminated by the fires, the viscount looked no less than a doomed and desperate man, daunting yet pitiful in a hollowed way, like a saint in purgatory; flames have caught the glint of amber in his eyes and scattered the sheen of auburn hair over features which, owing to a remarkable scar, made them both fair and frightening.
It is a stark combination which rumors have elevated to a curse. But the viscount knew better than to trust anything but the truth-or the past that goes with it.
It was hardly a thing he could boast of. Both boon and bane, his heritage was a tragedy that made him heir to a glorious but undeserved fortune in a foreign land, thanks to an Irish-English lady's passion for a certain sensei who came to London on a hunt for a precious Japanese sword supposedly acquired from an elite samurai clan centuries ago. This part of the story would have been easy to believe; even now, Westmoor Manor remains a virtual museum of odds and contraptions handpicked from countless excursions, if not conquests. Kenshin had, in fact, heard that his grandfather's death was the result of a foolish treasure-hunting expedition in some remote province in Africa where he contracted a mysterious but deadly disease. Predictably, the old man left everything to his one and only headless, ungrateful child who had deserted him for Kyoto to follow the one man who, had obviously, stolen her heart. And to make matters worse, the brute of a swordsman had to give the English-Irish heiress a son to bear the brunt of the scandalous match.
As if to mock those who might doubt the child's parentage, the son bore the same red hair as his mother, not to mention the same violet eyes that probably made her irresistible, even to a master of the strictest self- discipline and control. And by some unfortunate twist of fate, those same features made him the unwanted target of frivolous attention, the kind he had learned to enjoy even if only in bed.
"Shall I leave you then my Lord? Unless you REALLY have something that needs my most careful attention."
Kenshin narrowed eyes into the fire as if to suppress a violent thought. "I guess not. Unless Enishi would be so good as to command you for me."
"Command me my Lord?" Ambrose asked, frowning deeply. Lord Himura had always struck him as an irately jealous and conceited young man, one whose manners properly belong to an inferior descent the origins of which could only be barbaric. "Lord Enishi your cousin has been very kind and considerate all these ten years that you've been here in London, my Lord. He has even taken pains to instruct you in the language."
Kenshin almost jumped at the butler's defense of the favored relative, but thought it more amusing to let the discussion stray to more dangerous depths.
"Is that so? Demo. " he paused, using a Japanese expression to emphasize his contrary opinion, "why would my cousin Enishi do such a thing when my obscure legacy has done nothing but put HIS family in shame?"
"Lord Enishi is an exceptionally kind young man my lord, that I can say. Besides, you and he are one family now."
The viscount noted with a tinge of dismay the slight drop and hesitation in the tone of that last remark. He pursed his lips as if to say something brusquely annoying, but checked himself at the last moment.
"I was told that if his own mother had not admired mine to the point of obsession, she would not have followed her example by giving her son a stupid Japanese name like mine."
"Enishi is a good name, a decent name. Anyone who thinks otherwise must be idiotically absurd."
The red-haired viscount laughed cynically at that, then stopped as abruptly as he began, hiding eyes that flared an angry amber. "But I AM idiotically absurd. And I refuse to be seen in any other light Ambrose, especially when there is nothing but darkness in this legacy you so staunchly remind me of every single day."
"Pray, what legacy do you mean, coz?" A voice asked from several feet away, forcing both men to turn in its direction.
Tall and lean, Enishi stood in the doorway, his silver-faint, handsome features a remarkable contrast to the deeper, darker one reflected by the glowing fire.
"Not that my intrusion into your serious discussion even matters, cousin," he spoke again, chuckling a little when the viscount's face showed little welcome. He turned to the butler. "Or perhaps dear old Ambrose minds my uninvited appearance, as always. You know that I've a nasty habit of turning other people's houses into a personal sanctuary."
Kenshin returned his gaze to the fire. "That matters little now, and as for our discussion, I wouldn't call it serious."
"Oh. But you've always been serious, cousin."
Kenshin walked to a corner, returning with a glass of wine. "But what serious discussion could you ever mean, Enishi? Nothing serious ever goes on in THIS household. And if Ambrose DOES mind anything at all, it would be your privilege to know that half of our common friends already know it before I even do."
To that, Enishi slapped the old gentleman's back. "Ambrose, you old fool! Haven't I warned you that gossip in this house must include nothing of the private affairs of our dearest viscount? If you must know, the poor man has had enough attention hounding him wherever he goes, all amorous and deadly tiresome for that matter, am I right?" he asked, throwing a casual glance at his vexed cousin standing by the fire, his back turned. "But truly, and I hope you don't mind my knowing thanks to this old man, what have you to say about your great uncle's proposal for marriage?"
Kenshin looked at him sideways, a devilish scowl marring his shadowed features. "Don't dare patronize me Enishi! You know there's nothing more I hate than getting entangled with some fucking countryside bitch who'd marry for money even if all hell goes with it!"
Enishi brushed his words aside, shaking his head even when he grinned from ear to ear, more amused than shocked at Kenshin's own low-country manners. "Dear coz, you can make it heaven for any girl or bitch out there if you like. In fact, if I may say so, your reputation concerning women precedes you. I heard my mother's ward speak of it last night, in precariously accurate detail of your recent---should I say-love play?"
Ambrose's face burned, forcing him to retreat as fast as his ears let him.
Kenshin snickered at the reminder. "More like misadventure, you mean. That woman's hunger is insatiable. And tediously demanding. I must quit soon before she suck me dry and leave my fiancé childless with grief."
"So I've heard," he chuckled amusedly, shaking his head at the atrociousness of those words. "After all, didn't I warn you of it? Like I've told you, stay away from women YOUR age. Thirty makes tigers of them."
Kenshin frowned. "Thirty. She's barely twenty-five."
"That's a lie and I know it."
Oh and you know everything, don't you cousin? Kenshin simmered, putting down the glass of wine.
Enishi walked to a chair, picking up the book tossed carelessly on the cushion, and stared at the cover. Kenshin gave him a warning look but Enishi seemed unaware of it, walking to a nearby shelf to put the book back in place. He has always been interested in the viscounts ways, for his impression of him has always been that of a secretive, jealously guarded man who'd rather keep to himself, rot in obscurity, than enjoy his fame and the attention of society. Even his books interest him, their topics ranging from philosophy to geography, history, and mathematics. Yet, Kenshin had often denied that he was a thinking person. Enishi hardly believed it, knowing that contradictions are second to human nature.
Like his concern just now for the unknown fiancé. His worry that his illicit affairs would leave the woman childless with grief is a nice thing to say, for a man who declares he thinks nothing of her.
"Which brings me to the question, Himura."
Kenshin gave him an odd look. "What question?"
"How do you intend to tell this poor fiancé of yours that Westmoor will not take her as his bride?"
"I guess I'd have to find a way not to break her heart all that much."
Enishi's eyes sparked at that. "I do not know you care all that much in the first place, cousin."
Kenshin froze, eyes shimmering. "You misunderstand my truth then, Enishi."
"I do?"
"Indeed. For contrary to what you think, I do not care about the girl anymore than I care about YOUR whores. In fact, I don't give a damn if you fuck her ten times over before handing her over, that is, if your conscience would allow such a tryst. For myself, I have resigned myself to the fate of a professional bachelor who wouldn't trade his heart for an eternity of servitude in bed."
THAT drew a surprised, bemused smile on Enishi's part. "Servitude? Dare you not call it enjoyment? Or pleasure perhaps?"
Ah, you pretend so well, cousin. Pretend not to know what you know I know.
Then again, you have no privilege to speak of her. The only real pleasure I will dare own or none at all.
At that, a silent shadow seemed to visit the room, passing over features that smoldered beneath the cool gaze of the one whose violet eyes burned with sadness and sorrow as much as hate.
Hate for being controlled by fate this way, played by fate this way, like a harp in an expert musician's hands.
His patience is wearing thin.
Pretension always does. And pretensions have names.
He turned to find Enishi giving him a quizzical stare.
Your moment of truth, my cousin.
"Have something in mind, Himura? Care to share it?"
Kenshin smiled. "Of course. What say you to a wager, Enishi? A bet that will change our lives for better or worse if you prefer the matrimonial expression."
Enishi frowned. "That depends on what kind of devil you ACTUALLY have in mind, Himura! I swear you become as dangerous as Pandora's box when you begin to share your thoughts!"
"Nothing can be as confoundedly dangerous as a marriage, if you ask me."
"I'm beginning to fear that this bet has to do with YOUR marriage, doesn't it?"
"Your fear is just about to be confirmed, my dearest cousin."
"So tell me. Where do I figure in this much anticipated event?"
Kenshin dragged his silver eyes to him, forcing his fullest attention. "Simply this: If you can bed my miserable fiancé as fast as you can make her fall in love with you, the bitch is yours to be your mistress with my fullest consent. Her marriage to me shall mean nothing, bear nothing, except what you yourself will or can allow. As for me, I intend to have no stupid brat follow this godforsaken lineage of mine to its end. Which is why it will no doubt be of interest to you to have your son bear the title for me, wouldn't it? Nobody has to know. not even that idiot of an uncle who brutishly placed this bothersome affair in my hands."
This time, Enishi's eyes widened to regard him with hawk-like scrutiny. Kenshin had known his cousin's ambitions too well to pretend any less malice as his words allow. But still, Enishi is no fool to take so attractive an offer without the least suspicion.
Especially when he had always known Kenshin to be the wiser, the better in every way if the idiot had not been so idealistic as to see more evil than good in himself, an attitude which he, Enishi, did not find hard to encourage.
Ice silver eyes went up the ceiling to stare at the frozen faces of saints staring down from the blue dome of the viscount's study, empty eyes seeming to caution them of evil tidings. "And what good will it do you to heap so much favor in my direction? Besides, the task is too much a challenge to guarantee the least bit of success."
Kenshin waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss even the slightest skepticism. "If you fail Enishi, there is no reason for you to stay in London without shame. I myself will divulge the details of this agreement publicly whether it has been carried out or not, leaving you no choice but to succeed for YOUR sake. As for the girl, I can ship her back to Japan without further ado to let her cover her shame. You, unfortunately, shall not enjoy the privilege of such a convenient escape."
This time, Enishi did not bother to be playful or kind, as his normal self would allow him to pretend. He turned an ice-cold look at the red-haired devil by the fire, measuring patience.
It didn't take him long to realize he had lost it already.
"So this is more a trap than anything, I see. I might have been too hopeful to think that you can be anything than devious and arrogant, you fucking country bastard!"
Kenshin stood up, matching his glare with cold, calculating eyes. "Not half as devious and arrogant as your kind if you like me to put it lightly, my dear Enishi. Why, do you really wish me to PRETEND that I have no knowledge of the TRUE condition of your family's fortune? Do you really wish to see me so gullible as to believe your good behavior to be genuine rather than conspiratory?"
At this, one stride was all Enishi needed to face the devil head-on, all silver glimmering in the firelight, illuminating features that could only be as perfect and flawed as that of a fallen angel. "Shut up Himura or I will be tempted to knock some sense in that head of yours whether you live through it or not, you fucking-"
In one swift second, Kenshin had brought down a fist on the younger man's jaw, leaving blood where it landed.
Enishi stumbled forward as he gathered his senses to make a leap for the irate viscount, but Kenshin was faster, more agile, more alert-too alert-to be caught off guard. As his own thoughts betrayed, the viscount is his better in every way.
He swiped the blood off the corner of his mouth, all the time bestowing dagger looks at the red-haired man who, for his size, had the nerve to attack a taller opponent.
"YOU ARE ONE, FUCKING, LOW-LIFE, KENSHIN HIMURA!!! A cursed freak like you taking over the family fortune is a misfortune intended to damn us all!!!"
"Then damn you I will, Enishi," Kenshin told him, tossing his head sideways to push the long bangs that shadowed his eyes from view. "Demo, whatever happened this evening just about sealed our mutual agreement, my dear cousin. Now, if you would excuse me, I'd rather be left alone for the rest of the night."
With neither hesitation nor regret, the viscount stalked out of the room, leaving the visage of a man grating curses between his teeth.
I will make you suffer beyond hell no matter what the cost, Himura. Mark my words you will have nothing by the time I'm through with you.
Nothing. I will take everything you have, take more than you have, more than you can be willing to give.
I will take your title and your wife as you command me. But she will not be the only one to suffer.
Because I know that you cherish another. You cherish that one person whose name you do not dare to speak even in the slightest jest. You cherish the one person you cannot have because she has already been spoken for. Ahhh. and you think you're the only one who knows about secrets? Do you think I do not know that your affections go to Lady Tomoe Yukishiro? While her Japanese lineage has made her unpopular in men's eyes in this part of the world, it has given you more reason to latch your affections to her only to discover that the chit has chosen another man. one whose reputation does not include the shame of your pretentious womanizing! Perhaps I have far outdone myself in carving that reputation of yours in her imagination so that, if you should know the truth of it all, I might indeed deserve some of that hate of yours, you bastard! But should I even be worried about your hate, my inferior cousin? Your plan will do you more harm than good, see if it doesn't Himura! A foolish idiot you really are, that I MUST declare now with a toast!
Walking over to the fire, he grabbed the glass of wine the viscount had left and raised it to the grim portrait of the one man he would choose to hate.
A toast to your hell, coz. A toast to your hell indeed.
A low whistle called her attention for the umpteenth time, making her blush considerably. Beside her, Megumi had been counting whistles, and just now looked like a raging vampire ready to attack the next passer-by who'd dare add more to her list.
One more. Strangely though, she thought she heard a deep growl as well. Surely, Megumi wouldn't dare.
She caught the taller woman's wrist in time, before she can launch herself off the platform where they had been waiting the entire morning. Behind them, ships pass by, lowering their sails as they approach the port.
"Why are men such unbearable pricks? I swear Hiko Seijuro would pay for making this trip every inch a shameful inconvenience!!!"
The girl bestowed her companion a look that summarized all the bottled feelings she had during and even months before the trip. Seijuro-sama had told her that the trip should be a rare luxury to someone who had not set foot outside Japan all her life. True perhaps, but certainly not for Megumi. As for herself, all her seventeen years had been spent training in a dojo in Tokyo where she had earned a reputation for herself as Seijuro's best and most promising student-which explains why disagreeable as she may be, she could not completely disobey the sensei's impulse to ship her to London even when the decision seemed inappropriately hasty and absurd. Not that she perfectly rebelled at the thought. He had given her more than he had given anyone, in fact more than she could have wanted for herself, making any complaint on her part not only childish but almost cruel.
Still, she could hear herself asking questions about this trip to London. A personal message she had been told, must be delivered straight to a certain Viscount of Westmoor, a lord who has enough money to buy a city, she has heard people around her say. Perhaps it's a wild exaggerated claim, the kind foreigners seem to have a habit of making. Or maybe she didn't learn as much English as she thought she had, making her susceptible to wild guesses and false interpretations.
Yet, whatever her sensei's business is as contained in the letter she kept hidden in her kimono sleeve during the entire trip must remain one mystery left to fate. No clue whatsoever had been given by the sensei regarding the reason for his interest in the viscount in much the same way that he had given her no opportunity to know or inquire about the man's past. All she knew was the fact that the English lord is twenty-nine years of age, a bachelor, and a potential danger to all women.
The last, of course, was her own conclusion.
Her thoughts were led astray by the incessant fidgeting of her sole companion who, in the process, had hit a rib and forced her to yelp in pain.
"Stop that Megumi! You're going to make us look EVEN more stupid than necessary!"
"Stupid? What could be more stupid than waiting an hour and a half for a man who calls himself a decent gentleman?!!! Why, if I had been his wife."
"Which you are certainly not, Megumi."
"Well, if I WERE, for the sake of argument, I'd be furiously mad by now even if he were the Emperor himself!!! Why, whoever this insensitive oaf of a lord is needs an instruction in manners, forcing us to display our wares like spoiled goods to a bunch of sweaty sailors!!!"
She had to wince at that. "I perfectly understand your point of view, Megumi, and I truly envy your vocabulary, really. Demo, I just don't see why you have to say that in English so everyone can hear you and your colorful compliments!!!"
"My colorful compliments are not for your ears girl! If only I have ANY idea what got into Hiko's mind to send us to the far end of the world to enjoy the pleasurable luxury of a barbarian's hospitality!!!"
She smiled as passers-by began to bestow them curious glances. "I suggest you save that speech for the lord when we do find him, MISS Takani! For the moment, why don't you keep still and let me think? I'm sure somebody out here knows where Westmoor is!"
"Ladies?"
A kind, gentle, hesitant voice spoke from behind, surprising them both.
A young man dressed elegantly in blue velvet and satin smiled and bowed at them with no less than the flawless grace of a prince. "I'm sorry. but I thought you say Westmoor. You must be Himura's guests then, I presume?"
The Japanese name almost interested the taller woman who bestowed the most charming smile she could muster to the young fair-headed teenager smiling at them with the most distractingly cute dimples she had ever seen.
But it was the girl in the yellow kimono beside her who spoke to the stranger with wondering eyes.
"Gomen, but did you just say Himura? Lord Westmoor is---"
"Japanese? Yes he is, very very much your kind, my Lady. By the way, I'm Soujiro."
That confused her all the more. This is England. How come everybody seems to have a Japanese name?
He laughed at her transparent curiosity. "I understand your expression, if I may be allowed to explain of course. I am a cousin to the viscount, whose mother became an inspiration to my own, leading her to give all her children Japanese names to the consternation of her husband, my father, who unfortunately, now rests in peace. By the way," he stepped forward, a little bit closer, his height allowing him to regard the girl whose raven hair and large deep blue eyes have begun to distract him to the point of absurd fascination. "You must be-"
"Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru."
He tried the name in his mind and found it an interesting specimen. He might think of that name when deciding on a name for a daughter, or perhaps a wife?
He brushed the thought rudely aside. The girl could no more be seventeen, the same as his age, and so most definitely too young for the plucking. Besides, if she were Himura's guest, that means.
"Uh, you MUST know where Lord Westmoor might be then, Soujiro-san? I'm Megumi. Takani Megumi, if you please."
He turned to the taller, more attractively mature woman, smiling his best. "Of course. That's why I'm here. Himura is awfully busy and cannot, to his utter dismay and regret, personally attend to your comforts, so he sent me in his stead. The request came so late though I could not have been here sooner. But you will forgive me for that, young ladies, won't you?"
His smile was too much to ignore. Megumi could not help giving him a small bow. "Worry not, young lord. I certainly do not find anything wrong with a little inconvenience."
A little inconvenience!!! Kaoru gave Megumi a stare. "Shall we go then, Soujiro-san? Lord Himura must be anxious to hear from Sensei Hiko even if he's busy as you say, don't you think?"
He smiled at that, giving her a look of unsuppressed interest. "I could not have other thoughts my Lady."
Kaoru blushed at the suggestive remark, looking away to break the contact "Uh, I'm glad to hear that, demo," she smiled at him, trying her best to be polite, "would you please be so kind as to lead the way?"
Lord Westmoor sent his apologies for not joining them even for dinner. He had been taken ill, the butler said, all the while avoiding the cautious glances of the guests as he delivered his master's dull speech. Politeness, it seems, is as much the soul of English society as it is of Japan, but Kaoru find little sincerity in the viscount's words to judge it with similar respect as she would an equivalent in her tongue.
She pushed towards the side of her plate a strange black lump which looked anything but delicious. Megumi, on the other hand, had been eating with strange contentment, seeming to be in every way at home with the supposed 'barbarian's' hospitality.
Her change of heart is as much a cause of alarm as the dream she had that same morning before the ship left them in London. In that same dream, she heard a voice mock her, saying:
Wise you are, brave you are my child But in a lover's bed it is a harm To find an innocence, a passion wild To flame a sinner's secret charm
Who could this sinner be? Why should she figure in his bed? She had not had any serious acquaintance with any gentleman in her life, nor would desire an intimate one with a rogue no matter how charming! To talk of her jumping anytime soon in a lover's bed is therefore not only potentially absurd but astronomically impossible.
So impossible she had to avoid any man who might even dare. That she will!!!
"Kaoru? You don't look yourself or are you pining to be with Hiko now that you find company here a little stranger than you expected?"
She gave the woman a warning look. "Excuse me Megumi but I'm not the one who pines for Hiko as you so awfully suggest just now. In fact, I find this mansion rather. uhhhh.. interesting" she told her while finding a lump of food confoundedly difficult to swallow just then.
"Indeed? Have you found someone to distract you so soon that you've been shamefully absorbed in your thoughts since we came here?"
She coughed at that, grabbing a glass of water.
"Here, let me refill it for you."
The man that leaned so casually over her plate to refill her glass had an aura she could not name, forcing her to look up even if her better sense warned her of her earlier resolve not to be curious about any of the opposite sex that might present itself.
Blue ice-cold eyes met hers for the shortest second, brushing over hers so quickly she might have been mistaken to take its owner's attentions seriously.
"Aoshi, so nice of you to assist our host for the evening. I surmise these are Himura's guests?"
Kaoru turned to the other voice in the entrance to the dining hall. The man's starkly silver features are a vision to make any lesser woman swoon in desperate urgency.
Megumi seemed about ready to do that at least, giving both men a smile that could have seduced the charms out of a frog. She mentally shook her head at the scene.
So many men in one day. What is she to do?
"I was compelled to do the duty of an attendant for a wager I've so miserably lost to the deuce. Your being here of course does more to explain the devil's absence?"
Kaoru would have been embarrassed at the reply if she hadn't noted the familiarity that betrayed the choice of such words. Aoshi must be no less than a friend, a relative even perhaps?
"Nothing explains itself better than Himura's strange conduct with women. I assure you he's readying himself for a grand entrance."
The shrewd assessment of the viscount's behavior compelled her for some reason to give the silver-haired man a second glance. She found his eyes boring into hers, even when his attentions should be on the blue-eyed gentleman beside her.
She shivered slightly at the unexpected interest she found in his silver eyes, choosing to dismiss it by focusing on the black lump sitting on her plate instead. She gulped.
"I doubt that seriously, older brother," Soujiro, the boy who had been quite a talker at the port but seemed quiet since they came to the mansion, told the taller man with disarming simplicity, biting off the side of a deliciously red apple. "Himura's not the kind to devote so much energy on ceremony, as we all know."
The silver-haired young man only smiled at that. Kaoru noted with alarm that the smile bore more malice than charm as if he was reading those words from another light. "I understand perfectly what you mean Soujiro. I, Enishi, should know better about how direct and precise he could be with women as with all other things, so I could not agree more to his advantage."
"To his DISadvantage you mean," Aoshi observed, with a tinge of sarcasm. "Or should I remind you Enishi that you are in decent company?"
"You are always the moralist, Shinomori. Tell me, did you find the French Countess Avelieri half as amusing as I did?"
If the question was meant to disarm the gentleman, then the interrogator could not have failed more miserably than Enishi did, for the blue-eyed gaze he received was as unfazed as the moon.
"The Countess? Permit me to say the chit has a beauty so magnificently disproportionate to all wisdom and common sense I find her a perfect bore."
"Have pity Aoshi!!!" Soujiro laughed, amusement twinkling in his innocent brown eyes. "No beauty has ever been packaged so unfairly in words as the poor Countess, if I should be allowed to say so."
"My apologies then, but let me remind you that I do have a mind, Soujiro. And I will not lose it on a woman who could not be provoked to speak on any issue save God and her stupid manicure."
"Indeed. I guess I could not have had worse company then."
"No. And you should stay away from the flock of them for a good many years if you care for my opinion."
"As you must for other reasons, my dear younger brother," Enishi added, seeming to dread the closeness between the two that almost made him a stranger. He turned his attention abruptly on the two quiet women.
"Pray tell beautiful ladies, what brings you here across the savage seas? My cousin would be doubtlessly pleased if I could tell him some interesting thing or two about your trip, I'm sure."
Kaoru turned impulsively towards Aoshi as if to seek advice, though she could not tell what prompted her to trust the gentleman beside her more than any other stranger in the room. It must be his indifference that made him a better candidate for honesty than the younger, silver-eyed man wistfully smiling from across the room at her.
But Aoshi avoided her glance, chewing off food with the grace of a sublime philosopher. She turned to Enishi with a nervous smile.
"We bring a letter from Sensei Hiko Seijuro. He wants it delivered straight into the hands of the Lord of Westmoor as soon as possible."
"Indeed?" Enishi's eyes twinkled at the prospect. Could it be? The possibility is definitely not a mystery, even if the logic seems questionable. True, the viscount's heritage might make him a better match for a Japanese lady, but wouldn't it improve his reputation were he to wed an English lady of rank and unquestionable background, rather than another stranger of the same barbaric descent?
He looked at the young girl more closely as he pulled a chair from the other side of the table to sit right across the viscount's guests. He could not be mistaken.
The blue-eyed virgin is a little less his age and more Soujiro's. That makes her barely seventeen, eighteen at the most? What is Himura to do with an underdeveloped teenager even if her innocent charms proved tempting even for an expert lady's man such as himself? Not that the question is even significant. The wager would doubtlessly place the girl immediately at his disposal, where she could be won and wasted in lovemaking as easily as finer courtesans had been in his two and twenty years.
I promised to be merciless, didn't I Himura? The wager might not be worth much to me, but it will to you if you find the prospect of bedding an innocent half as thrilling as your conquest of the Lady Tomoe. Not that I envy you cousin, but knowing you a little more each day gives me greater assurance that your downfall would be pleasurable, cruel, and deep.
As cruel and deep as one can imagine.
Then again, he had not noticed the taller woman beside the girl. The long- haired vixen was dressed in an elegant pink and blue kimono splashed with white snowy petals on the sleeves and hemline of the robe. He thought she batted eyelashes at him, though on second glance, she seemed to be merely annoyed at something that got into her eye, confirming his suspicion that the more attractive woman could be the potential fiancé who would not dare look at him so suggestively lest she lose the viscount's favor.
All of a sudden, Soujiro moved his chair aside and gave a slight bow. "If I may be allowed to introduce them brother, the girl in the yellow kimono is Lady Kaoru Kamiya, and beside her, Lady Megumi Takani."
Enishi reached out to take Megumi's hand in his own gloved one, bowing propitiously. "My pleasure to have made an acquaintance with such a graciously lovely guest, my Lady."
"Many thanks, my lord," Megumi returned, smiling.
Kaoru felt something strange at Enishi's gesture, his intense silver-eyed hawk-like gaze too disturbingly intimate to ignore. But ignore it she will, forcing her to look away, anywhere but on their host's face.
It was then that she saw it, a pair of stricken eyes that glowed amber in the stairs above them, overlooking the table from where they dined not more than twelve feet away.
Kenshin could not have moved where it even possible. But it was not because Enishi had so brusquely advanced the wager this early by making himself so available to his guests so soon.
More because down below, a pair of curious blue eyes seemed to look into his soul, their startled gaze beseechingly innocent and at the same time adamantly curious, turning into a slight frown when he cared to hold her look far longer than he deemed appropriate.
Kaoru deepened her frown, resisting the urge to blush even when Enishi regarded him curiously from the corner of his eye, suspecting perhaps the target of her attentions.
Demo, whoever he is, she will not be so bold as to let the amber-eyed stranger think that she liked what she saw when their eyes met.
But didn't you, you stupid baka Kaoru!!! a small voice told her the instant she let her eyes return to the table and their host, silver eyes following the direction of her gaze.
But to Kenshin, her withdrawal left something deep within-a curious disappointment he could not explain-urging him to follow her with his eyes. Indeed, he quietly bemused, the way she nervously picked on her food to hide her obvious distraction is even more charming to behold. Could it be that the chick was trying to be innocent, intent on using the ploy as an instrument to capture his interest and imagination?
Yet, as much as it pleased him to realize how his instincts reacted violently to THAT accusation, he could not help but feel insulted at her casual dismissal of his presence. How dare she look away from him without as much as admiration or awe! Had he not seen women reveal their desires so openly and unabashedly before his very gaze? No one had been an exception, no one save another one, the one woman he could never, and will never have.
He frowned deeply at the memory only to meet a pair of silver eyes mocking him with the quiet knowledge and pleasure that his suffering hardly needs even guessing.
Enishi.
Obviously, the scoundrel's attentions had been on the taller, more elegantly beautiful lady seated beside the girl, who must be her ward. Surely, Hiko would have known women's weakness for the companionship of their own sex, especially when his fiancé must be traveling for the first time in foreign territory.
His fiancé. He didn't think that the affair could wear him out mentally as much as physically--the latter, of course, brought about by his stupid insistence to drink 'til two in the morning, or at least until his own friends had to throw him out of the inn to keep him from drowning his sanity in careless intoxication.
Now that Enishi had found him watching the whole scene, he would have to face the music with indifferent casualness and introduce himself to his potential bride as if the wager he had made a week ago did not bother him in the least.
Indeed, how could he even be bothered by it? Hadn't he thought of it in the first place? And for what reason?
No amount of denial could obscure the answer to that. He knew very well that the cursed engagement announced the same day he received the letter from Hiko was the root cause of this damnation. In the ball given in the honor of the Japanese ambassador's three-year stay in London, he had been informed as everybody had been, that the Lady Yukishiro's hand had been given to the ambassador's son, who will wed her no sooner than the end of next month.
The end of June. Might he end his life as soon as the cursed date comes? Surely, Yukishiro could not be expected to break the engagement as she or he might wish.
If only he could. He had never felt for anyone as much as he had felt for her. True, their relationship was not as innocent as he would like to think, but even if it were, he had always thought that she would be the one he would marry, were he brave enough to admit the need for it when they shared one bed six weeks ago by fault of his urgent manhood and her even more urgent longing for someone to share her grief.
Now, the slightest possibility of marriage with the woman he loved is gone forever, like a drop in a cascading waterfall. So many could take its place but none would ever be the exact one he so desired.
"Kenshin. do you intend to stand there the whole evening or should I drag you down the way I did last night?"
Aoshi raised an eyebrow at that. As far as he could remember, no one, not even him, had ever been allowed to as much as touch the viscount without risking life and limb. Himura had made that clear on several occasions. Which makes Enishi a shrewd liar.
"I think I prefer to come down as I please. Please be seated and take no unnecessary measure to embarrass me with courtesies I cannot return, Lady Takani, Lady Kamiya."
Kaoru bristled at his knowledge of their names. After all, she had been told that only the letter she carried would sufficiently introduce them to the viscount. Not that the logic is comforting. Hiko must have, by some uncanny attack of forgetfulness, failed to include that information in his previous correspondence with the lord, or so he says.
Which makes the other possibility worth considering-that is, the viscount must have been listening to their conversation early enough to catch the introductions Soujiro made when Enishi entered the room. She noticed the slight panic on Soujiro's face, confirming her suspicions. As for Enishi, he MUST be an expert in hiding his own fears because there is much to be embarrassed about his intimate overtures just minutes ago.
As for Kenshin, a second look would confirm that Lady Takani must surely be the one Hiko had in mind for him to marry. Not only is she of suitable age; the lady has graces that could only be appreciated in such royal surroundings.
"My apologies. I am Kenshin Himura, Lord of Westmoor," he told them, violet eyes brushing past them to regard their kimonos with seeming discomfort. Kaoru could not help fidgeting in her own, wondering how a real Japanese in foreign clothes could look half as dashing and elegant as the lord. Royal blue satin and velvet covered him simply, accented by white lace, which no more than highlighted the shock of red hair flaming around his neck and shoulders in roguish disarray. In fact, if he had worn the tail of hair an inch or two higher, he would have been a perfect image of a samurai, the cross-scar on his left cheek seemingly perfect in stressing that dangerous heritage.
She would have prolonged her interest if the pair of violet orbs did not glimmer in her direction, forcing her to turn away to keep herself from betraying more interest than he might deem polite.
He seemed to take pleasure in her discomfort, eyeing her with a secret passing intensity that made her insides leap in absolute panic.
"Anyway, you must have met my friend, Aoshi Shinomori of Cravenhall, nephew, assistant and confidante to the Japanese ambassador stationed here in London. On that corner meanwhile is my butler Ambrose Levine, the oldest most pernicious man if ever there was, in the whole of England. As for those two, they are Soujiro and Enishi Ravendyll of Westmoor, cousins of mine to the first degree."
"We are pleased to be in such good company, my Lord," Megumi said carefully, her accent perfect in every way as she lifted her hand to be kissed. Kenshin smiled slightly at the gesture, noting with obvious satisfaction her knowledge of English propriety.
As Kenshin bowed with the perfect, flawless grace of one trained to receive hands and kiss them in amorous flirtation as much as courtesy, Kaoru suddenly wished she had Megumi's confidence and skill. But she had not been trained in the arts as Megumi had, making her suddenly wish she had her shinai to explain her ignorance of more womanly endeavors.
"I surmise you bear news from dear uncle regarding my future?" he asked Takani, his eyes not leaving her face. This was what Enishi wanted isn't it? To get his hands on his fiancé as soon as he can confirm the fact that the woman was to be the one to share his miserable bed for life.
Takani gave him a quizzical stare. Kenshin thought it rather unfortunate that the woman should forget about so important a matter so soon. Not that his presence should flatter her wits out this early in the relationship.
It was then that Kaoru decided to draw the letter out of her sleeve, even as Kenshin paled to see his conclusions so frighteningly dashed. To make matters worse, Enishi must draw his own conclusions and act as he sees fit, as their wager mercilessly dictates.
Blue eyes, raven hair, small hands that made the girl all the more childish up close. Sapphire blue stared into his violet depths, in ways that spoke of an innocence so pure it tugged at his inner senses like an erratic heartbeat.
She who draws the letter will be Westmoor's bride. And you will not live to disappoint me Himura. Not when I hold the key to your family's fortune which you WILL lose should I allow it!
That other letter resounded in his mind like an empty echo. He took the piece of paper from the girl's hands and paled to an even more dangerous shade when the contents had been fully revealed to him.
"Sou, wold you see to it that Lady Kamiya and Takani have the pleasure of enjoying their stay for the night? I'm afraid I'm too tired to command Ambrose to attend to their comforts without precise instructions," he told his cousin tiredly, folding the letter abruptly to tuck it in his vest, as if the contents carried a plague that would swallow them up were he less expedient and swift.
The butler nodded, taking his cue from the young lad.
"Of course, coz," Soujiro answered, grinning. "Do you wish that they share quarters my lord?"
This time, Enishi took Takani's side, eyes shimmering. "Perhaps Westmoor's bride requires a more convenient place of stay?"
Kenshin had a moment to think. For certain, Enishi had not yet guessed the truth, nor would he encourage it if he can. Of course, he was doing it to save the real target of the wager who stood a handspan away, eyes regarding him with quiet curiosity and concern. Why he should even bother protecting the inexperienced chit is, however, a question he would rather not brood about, a headache already beginning its slow and painful descent to his right temple.
Kaoru stepped forward, handing him a smallish tin compact. "It's good for headaches, Himura-san. I mean, Lord Himura," she backed a step, blushing at her serious mistake. The red-haired man seemed too serious to be regarded any less formally, yet the eyes that shimmered beneath purple depths seemed to beckon to her in the kindest, most painful way she could not help but feel a certain.
Bond? How absurd. She had not yet begun to know him and here she is imagining they could be friends.
"Westmoor's bride?" Megumi's concern drew her attention. It must be the word 'bride' that bothered her friend for some reason. and her vocabulary is not that good to be of any help.
The viscount pretended not to hear, slipping the compact into his vest while turning to Soujiro with a serious shake of the head. "On the contrary, Lady Takani might wish to stay with her companion even if only for one night. The rooms are large and the halls terribly haunting at night. A companion might suit her better."
Megumi still looked disturbed, eyes not leaving the viscount's face. "I worry more my Lord, about the implications of the reference just made."
"It will be discussed in the morning, I assure you, Miss Takani. For the meantime, a pleasant good evening to you.and to you Miss Kaoru."
Kaoru? Even Aoshi lifted an eyebrow, confirming her recognition of that unconventional gesture. Even in England perhaps, acquaintances never dare to speak of one's first name without permission.
Before she could think of the meaning in his awkward friendliness, the viscount lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it ever so gently, forcing her to REALLY blush this time, her cheeks warming when his lips grazed her skin even if only for a fraction of two seconds. Then he turned his back on her and walked away, even as Enishi took Megumi aside to lead her away in the direction of their quarters for the night.
She would have followed Sou, Aoshi, Enishi, and Megumi filing out of the dining hall if she did not feel a gentle tug on her left shoulder.
"The Master wishes to have a word with you alone in his quarters, Miss Kamiya," Ambrose told her, eyes regarding her with the dullest hint of interest or concern. Something about the request bothered her more than the butler's strange countenance though.
She blinked at her own reluctance to follow his instructions. Was it fear? Concern? Her heart was racing like a horse and she could barely comprehend the reason. Of course, she would like to think that no man had ever been successful in making her afraid, so it couldn't be fear. But honestly. why should she fear the viscount? Could it be because she had made up her mind that such good looks can only mask a great danger? She wouldn't doubt it if the lord has indeed a reputation with women. Then again, he might have serious inquiries about the use of the medicine she had just offered him and nothing more. Yet, something about the intense fire in those amber eyes that glowed in the shadows the first time she saw him warned her coldly about the prospect of being alone with the viscount in HIS private chamber, with nothing but the butler's word to confirm her motive for being there in the first place. No. As much as she feels agony and concern for him, she MUST resist the impulse to follow. Besides, taking precautions is never too wrong anyway, is it? Her kendo training seems to support the argument even more strongly.
She faced the butler with a painful smile. "Gomen, demo, I can accommodate such a wish if only YOUR Master would be so kind as to tell me why I should come to him alone in the middle of the night."
"The lord, my lady, needs no reason other than his need. It is only proper that you answer his summons."
Answer his summons? Kaoru had to frown at THAT. Who does the viscount think he is anyway? Of course he is the Lord of the house, and has every right to do as he pleases. But certainly not to compel others to do as HE pleases.
He must be insane to think of even trying. Or too much of an arrogant ass to expect people to bow at his every convenience. Slowly, this realization had begun to replace her former impression of the young viscount.
"Gomen nasai, demo, tell your lord I will come to him in the morning, but not before or anywhere without Miss Megumi. Please make this perfectly clear. It's important to me."
Ambrose gave her a courteous bow. "I hope my Master understands such a request, young Miss. For your sake."
Kaoru gave that last remark a shrug. What the lord needs is a refreshing insight from someone who will not hesitate to pound some sense in his head. And if fate permits it, she might just be fortunate to have the opportunity to instruct the young, foolish viscount on this matter before his business with her sensei is over.
With that, she headed out of the hall, already bursting with optimism for her much awaited rendezvous with the viscount in the coming days.
The coming days. It sounded long and hard but she was certain there is much to anticipate and expect from the moody, incomprehensible Lord of Westmoor whose eyes have the strangest sorrow she had ever seen.
Fanfic by Kendoka Ryu
Disclaimer: This is definitely the imagination of an insane otaku who would be happy to be dirt under Noburo Watsuki-sama's feet. Hope Sony and Watsuki don't sue this baka for borrowing RRK until he's got more serious things to write.
Rating: PG, I guess.
Comments: This is supposed to be romantic, but heck, I don't think I've got a single romantic bone in this body! Anyway, I don't think Kenshin would mind if I put him in England in this fic. 1903 perhaps? I love to imagine my Kaoru in a period dress. In fact I took kendo classes because of her! Gods, I wonder what my girlfriend's gonna say to that? By the way, the Anglo-Japanese Alliance was in effect during this period. I dunno that's a plausible reason to draw some connections between England and Japan.
Anyway, here's chapter 1.
Chapter One: The Viscount of Westmoor
The darkness bleeds shadows
Of pain;
And yet it is your tears
That blind me.
Twelve o'clock. The House of Westmoor is ordinarily restful at this hour, but tonight is not supposed to be ordinary.
No. Ambrose knows that since the lord arrived that evening-a little too early in fact for one invited to the Baron's-he had not been himself. In fact, he had kept to his room, refused calls from Cravenhall and Ravendyll, and ignored to the point of inconvenience the attendance of his maids. It would have been less extraordinary if the viscount had not been known to be a meticulous, demanding, and commanding sort of person. A house rule in Westmoor Hall, in fact, dictates that no servant should rest until the viscount's comforts have been attended to, with absolute and perfect care.
"Lord Himura? Is there something I might help you with?"
The viscount turned around to regard the voice with the slightest annoyance. Hadn't he made it clear that he is not to be disturbed? Besides, as much as he enjoyed attention, he is not the kind to be disturbed by trivial courtesies, especially when more important things preoccupy him at the moment.
Yes. More important things. Like the arrival of news regarding his nearing engagement. It was certainly most welcome, especially when it afforded him much opportunity for drink.
Wanton drunkenness is more like it, he thought lazily, violet eyes still on the letter folded neatly on the table before him. He had a mind to toss it to the nearest fire but gave it a second thought.
A second thought indeed Kenshin smirked, choosing instead to slip the letter into the book he had been reading since that morning. Funny. Of late, he had been thinking deeply thoughts that have little merit for a man of his position and standing. Being a viscount made him realize that opportunity, wealth, honor and fame come to those who are fortunate rather than wise. And no amount of thinking---for that matter, wisdom---will save him now. Besides, thinking gives him a headache, and he can only have enough headaches in one day.
"My Lord? Are you certain you did not call for me at all?"
Violet eyes flickered, to regard the voice this time with the slightest contempt. "Yes, I imagine I did. You wouldn't be here if I didn't, would you?"
"I guess that would depend on-"
"Depend on how long you're willing to serve this household, Ambrose," he interrupted, throwing the book aside, as if the letter's presence had infected it and must be put away. "Besides, I'm well aware that your consistent intrusion into my personal space is one of my uncle's delightfully killing ideas-which allows me to deduce that you've already been informed of the contents of this evening's letter long before I've seen it, true?"
Ambrose, the family's loyal butler for more than thirty years simply shrugged. "Your assumptions are unwarranted my Lord, but pray, let me caution you about Lord Hiko's intentions."
"Huh, caution me, Ambrose?" Kenshin snapped, standing with a sudden jerk. "And what do YOU and my ass of an uncle care if I marry the first whore who has yet to please me in bed?"
Ambrose gave a low, discomfited cough. "I sure do not mean to encourage such a scandalous choice."
"Scandalous? Is there any other word to describe the kinds of things everybody does in England nowadays?"
"I would like to think this outburst of yours, my lord, is nothing but temporary. It's been a long time since you've been in Kyoto and the letter from Lord Hiko reminds you of it. I guarantee though that circumstances abroad could not be any different from ours. definitely NOT better I must say, but refreshing."
Refreshing. an ideal word for something that ignorance describes so well. Kenshin thought, flopping into a chair by the fire. The posture however, is not lost on Ambrose. Anyone standing where he does would agree that the viscount is not the man to be trifled with; not very tall but nevertheless lean and taut, Lord Himura's appearance has often proved to be intimidating. Not that the lord has on all occasions looked severe. Still, women would agree that this darker, haunting side of him draws and seduces more effectively than any of his other charms. But now, illuminated by the fires, the viscount looked no less than a doomed and desperate man, daunting yet pitiful in a hollowed way, like a saint in purgatory; flames have caught the glint of amber in his eyes and scattered the sheen of auburn hair over features which, owing to a remarkable scar, made them both fair and frightening.
It is a stark combination which rumors have elevated to a curse. But the viscount knew better than to trust anything but the truth-or the past that goes with it.
It was hardly a thing he could boast of. Both boon and bane, his heritage was a tragedy that made him heir to a glorious but undeserved fortune in a foreign land, thanks to an Irish-English lady's passion for a certain sensei who came to London on a hunt for a precious Japanese sword supposedly acquired from an elite samurai clan centuries ago. This part of the story would have been easy to believe; even now, Westmoor Manor remains a virtual museum of odds and contraptions handpicked from countless excursions, if not conquests. Kenshin had, in fact, heard that his grandfather's death was the result of a foolish treasure-hunting expedition in some remote province in Africa where he contracted a mysterious but deadly disease. Predictably, the old man left everything to his one and only headless, ungrateful child who had deserted him for Kyoto to follow the one man who, had obviously, stolen her heart. And to make matters worse, the brute of a swordsman had to give the English-Irish heiress a son to bear the brunt of the scandalous match.
As if to mock those who might doubt the child's parentage, the son bore the same red hair as his mother, not to mention the same violet eyes that probably made her irresistible, even to a master of the strictest self- discipline and control. And by some unfortunate twist of fate, those same features made him the unwanted target of frivolous attention, the kind he had learned to enjoy even if only in bed.
"Shall I leave you then my Lord? Unless you REALLY have something that needs my most careful attention."
Kenshin narrowed eyes into the fire as if to suppress a violent thought. "I guess not. Unless Enishi would be so good as to command you for me."
"Command me my Lord?" Ambrose asked, frowning deeply. Lord Himura had always struck him as an irately jealous and conceited young man, one whose manners properly belong to an inferior descent the origins of which could only be barbaric. "Lord Enishi your cousin has been very kind and considerate all these ten years that you've been here in London, my Lord. He has even taken pains to instruct you in the language."
Kenshin almost jumped at the butler's defense of the favored relative, but thought it more amusing to let the discussion stray to more dangerous depths.
"Is that so? Demo. " he paused, using a Japanese expression to emphasize his contrary opinion, "why would my cousin Enishi do such a thing when my obscure legacy has done nothing but put HIS family in shame?"
"Lord Enishi is an exceptionally kind young man my lord, that I can say. Besides, you and he are one family now."
The viscount noted with a tinge of dismay the slight drop and hesitation in the tone of that last remark. He pursed his lips as if to say something brusquely annoying, but checked himself at the last moment.
"I was told that if his own mother had not admired mine to the point of obsession, she would not have followed her example by giving her son a stupid Japanese name like mine."
"Enishi is a good name, a decent name. Anyone who thinks otherwise must be idiotically absurd."
The red-haired viscount laughed cynically at that, then stopped as abruptly as he began, hiding eyes that flared an angry amber. "But I AM idiotically absurd. And I refuse to be seen in any other light Ambrose, especially when there is nothing but darkness in this legacy you so staunchly remind me of every single day."
"Pray, what legacy do you mean, coz?" A voice asked from several feet away, forcing both men to turn in its direction.
Tall and lean, Enishi stood in the doorway, his silver-faint, handsome features a remarkable contrast to the deeper, darker one reflected by the glowing fire.
"Not that my intrusion into your serious discussion even matters, cousin," he spoke again, chuckling a little when the viscount's face showed little welcome. He turned to the butler. "Or perhaps dear old Ambrose minds my uninvited appearance, as always. You know that I've a nasty habit of turning other people's houses into a personal sanctuary."
Kenshin returned his gaze to the fire. "That matters little now, and as for our discussion, I wouldn't call it serious."
"Oh. But you've always been serious, cousin."
Kenshin walked to a corner, returning with a glass of wine. "But what serious discussion could you ever mean, Enishi? Nothing serious ever goes on in THIS household. And if Ambrose DOES mind anything at all, it would be your privilege to know that half of our common friends already know it before I even do."
To that, Enishi slapped the old gentleman's back. "Ambrose, you old fool! Haven't I warned you that gossip in this house must include nothing of the private affairs of our dearest viscount? If you must know, the poor man has had enough attention hounding him wherever he goes, all amorous and deadly tiresome for that matter, am I right?" he asked, throwing a casual glance at his vexed cousin standing by the fire, his back turned. "But truly, and I hope you don't mind my knowing thanks to this old man, what have you to say about your great uncle's proposal for marriage?"
Kenshin looked at him sideways, a devilish scowl marring his shadowed features. "Don't dare patronize me Enishi! You know there's nothing more I hate than getting entangled with some fucking countryside bitch who'd marry for money even if all hell goes with it!"
Enishi brushed his words aside, shaking his head even when he grinned from ear to ear, more amused than shocked at Kenshin's own low-country manners. "Dear coz, you can make it heaven for any girl or bitch out there if you like. In fact, if I may say so, your reputation concerning women precedes you. I heard my mother's ward speak of it last night, in precariously accurate detail of your recent---should I say-love play?"
Ambrose's face burned, forcing him to retreat as fast as his ears let him.
Kenshin snickered at the reminder. "More like misadventure, you mean. That woman's hunger is insatiable. And tediously demanding. I must quit soon before she suck me dry and leave my fiancé childless with grief."
"So I've heard," he chuckled amusedly, shaking his head at the atrociousness of those words. "After all, didn't I warn you of it? Like I've told you, stay away from women YOUR age. Thirty makes tigers of them."
Kenshin frowned. "Thirty. She's barely twenty-five."
"That's a lie and I know it."
Oh and you know everything, don't you cousin? Kenshin simmered, putting down the glass of wine.
Enishi walked to a chair, picking up the book tossed carelessly on the cushion, and stared at the cover. Kenshin gave him a warning look but Enishi seemed unaware of it, walking to a nearby shelf to put the book back in place. He has always been interested in the viscounts ways, for his impression of him has always been that of a secretive, jealously guarded man who'd rather keep to himself, rot in obscurity, than enjoy his fame and the attention of society. Even his books interest him, their topics ranging from philosophy to geography, history, and mathematics. Yet, Kenshin had often denied that he was a thinking person. Enishi hardly believed it, knowing that contradictions are second to human nature.
Like his concern just now for the unknown fiancé. His worry that his illicit affairs would leave the woman childless with grief is a nice thing to say, for a man who declares he thinks nothing of her.
"Which brings me to the question, Himura."
Kenshin gave him an odd look. "What question?"
"How do you intend to tell this poor fiancé of yours that Westmoor will not take her as his bride?"
"I guess I'd have to find a way not to break her heart all that much."
Enishi's eyes sparked at that. "I do not know you care all that much in the first place, cousin."
Kenshin froze, eyes shimmering. "You misunderstand my truth then, Enishi."
"I do?"
"Indeed. For contrary to what you think, I do not care about the girl anymore than I care about YOUR whores. In fact, I don't give a damn if you fuck her ten times over before handing her over, that is, if your conscience would allow such a tryst. For myself, I have resigned myself to the fate of a professional bachelor who wouldn't trade his heart for an eternity of servitude in bed."
THAT drew a surprised, bemused smile on Enishi's part. "Servitude? Dare you not call it enjoyment? Or pleasure perhaps?"
Ah, you pretend so well, cousin. Pretend not to know what you know I know.
Then again, you have no privilege to speak of her. The only real pleasure I will dare own or none at all.
At that, a silent shadow seemed to visit the room, passing over features that smoldered beneath the cool gaze of the one whose violet eyes burned with sadness and sorrow as much as hate.
Hate for being controlled by fate this way, played by fate this way, like a harp in an expert musician's hands.
His patience is wearing thin.
Pretension always does. And pretensions have names.
He turned to find Enishi giving him a quizzical stare.
Your moment of truth, my cousin.
"Have something in mind, Himura? Care to share it?"
Kenshin smiled. "Of course. What say you to a wager, Enishi? A bet that will change our lives for better or worse if you prefer the matrimonial expression."
Enishi frowned. "That depends on what kind of devil you ACTUALLY have in mind, Himura! I swear you become as dangerous as Pandora's box when you begin to share your thoughts!"
"Nothing can be as confoundedly dangerous as a marriage, if you ask me."
"I'm beginning to fear that this bet has to do with YOUR marriage, doesn't it?"
"Your fear is just about to be confirmed, my dearest cousin."
"So tell me. Where do I figure in this much anticipated event?"
Kenshin dragged his silver eyes to him, forcing his fullest attention. "Simply this: If you can bed my miserable fiancé as fast as you can make her fall in love with you, the bitch is yours to be your mistress with my fullest consent. Her marriage to me shall mean nothing, bear nothing, except what you yourself will or can allow. As for me, I intend to have no stupid brat follow this godforsaken lineage of mine to its end. Which is why it will no doubt be of interest to you to have your son bear the title for me, wouldn't it? Nobody has to know. not even that idiot of an uncle who brutishly placed this bothersome affair in my hands."
This time, Enishi's eyes widened to regard him with hawk-like scrutiny. Kenshin had known his cousin's ambitions too well to pretend any less malice as his words allow. But still, Enishi is no fool to take so attractive an offer without the least suspicion.
Especially when he had always known Kenshin to be the wiser, the better in every way if the idiot had not been so idealistic as to see more evil than good in himself, an attitude which he, Enishi, did not find hard to encourage.
Ice silver eyes went up the ceiling to stare at the frozen faces of saints staring down from the blue dome of the viscount's study, empty eyes seeming to caution them of evil tidings. "And what good will it do you to heap so much favor in my direction? Besides, the task is too much a challenge to guarantee the least bit of success."
Kenshin waved his hand in the air as if to dismiss even the slightest skepticism. "If you fail Enishi, there is no reason for you to stay in London without shame. I myself will divulge the details of this agreement publicly whether it has been carried out or not, leaving you no choice but to succeed for YOUR sake. As for the girl, I can ship her back to Japan without further ado to let her cover her shame. You, unfortunately, shall not enjoy the privilege of such a convenient escape."
This time, Enishi did not bother to be playful or kind, as his normal self would allow him to pretend. He turned an ice-cold look at the red-haired devil by the fire, measuring patience.
It didn't take him long to realize he had lost it already.
"So this is more a trap than anything, I see. I might have been too hopeful to think that you can be anything than devious and arrogant, you fucking country bastard!"
Kenshin stood up, matching his glare with cold, calculating eyes. "Not half as devious and arrogant as your kind if you like me to put it lightly, my dear Enishi. Why, do you really wish me to PRETEND that I have no knowledge of the TRUE condition of your family's fortune? Do you really wish to see me so gullible as to believe your good behavior to be genuine rather than conspiratory?"
At this, one stride was all Enishi needed to face the devil head-on, all silver glimmering in the firelight, illuminating features that could only be as perfect and flawed as that of a fallen angel. "Shut up Himura or I will be tempted to knock some sense in that head of yours whether you live through it or not, you fucking-"
In one swift second, Kenshin had brought down a fist on the younger man's jaw, leaving blood where it landed.
Enishi stumbled forward as he gathered his senses to make a leap for the irate viscount, but Kenshin was faster, more agile, more alert-too alert-to be caught off guard. As his own thoughts betrayed, the viscount is his better in every way.
He swiped the blood off the corner of his mouth, all the time bestowing dagger looks at the red-haired man who, for his size, had the nerve to attack a taller opponent.
"YOU ARE ONE, FUCKING, LOW-LIFE, KENSHIN HIMURA!!! A cursed freak like you taking over the family fortune is a misfortune intended to damn us all!!!"
"Then damn you I will, Enishi," Kenshin told him, tossing his head sideways to push the long bangs that shadowed his eyes from view. "Demo, whatever happened this evening just about sealed our mutual agreement, my dear cousin. Now, if you would excuse me, I'd rather be left alone for the rest of the night."
With neither hesitation nor regret, the viscount stalked out of the room, leaving the visage of a man grating curses between his teeth.
I will make you suffer beyond hell no matter what the cost, Himura. Mark my words you will have nothing by the time I'm through with you.
Nothing. I will take everything you have, take more than you have, more than you can be willing to give.
I will take your title and your wife as you command me. But she will not be the only one to suffer.
Because I know that you cherish another. You cherish that one person whose name you do not dare to speak even in the slightest jest. You cherish the one person you cannot have because she has already been spoken for. Ahhh. and you think you're the only one who knows about secrets? Do you think I do not know that your affections go to Lady Tomoe Yukishiro? While her Japanese lineage has made her unpopular in men's eyes in this part of the world, it has given you more reason to latch your affections to her only to discover that the chit has chosen another man. one whose reputation does not include the shame of your pretentious womanizing! Perhaps I have far outdone myself in carving that reputation of yours in her imagination so that, if you should know the truth of it all, I might indeed deserve some of that hate of yours, you bastard! But should I even be worried about your hate, my inferior cousin? Your plan will do you more harm than good, see if it doesn't Himura! A foolish idiot you really are, that I MUST declare now with a toast!
Walking over to the fire, he grabbed the glass of wine the viscount had left and raised it to the grim portrait of the one man he would choose to hate.
A toast to your hell, coz. A toast to your hell indeed.
A low whistle called her attention for the umpteenth time, making her blush considerably. Beside her, Megumi had been counting whistles, and just now looked like a raging vampire ready to attack the next passer-by who'd dare add more to her list.
One more. Strangely though, she thought she heard a deep growl as well. Surely, Megumi wouldn't dare.
She caught the taller woman's wrist in time, before she can launch herself off the platform where they had been waiting the entire morning. Behind them, ships pass by, lowering their sails as they approach the port.
"Why are men such unbearable pricks? I swear Hiko Seijuro would pay for making this trip every inch a shameful inconvenience!!!"
The girl bestowed her companion a look that summarized all the bottled feelings she had during and even months before the trip. Seijuro-sama had told her that the trip should be a rare luxury to someone who had not set foot outside Japan all her life. True perhaps, but certainly not for Megumi. As for herself, all her seventeen years had been spent training in a dojo in Tokyo where she had earned a reputation for herself as Seijuro's best and most promising student-which explains why disagreeable as she may be, she could not completely disobey the sensei's impulse to ship her to London even when the decision seemed inappropriately hasty and absurd. Not that she perfectly rebelled at the thought. He had given her more than he had given anyone, in fact more than she could have wanted for herself, making any complaint on her part not only childish but almost cruel.
Still, she could hear herself asking questions about this trip to London. A personal message she had been told, must be delivered straight to a certain Viscount of Westmoor, a lord who has enough money to buy a city, she has heard people around her say. Perhaps it's a wild exaggerated claim, the kind foreigners seem to have a habit of making. Or maybe she didn't learn as much English as she thought she had, making her susceptible to wild guesses and false interpretations.
Yet, whatever her sensei's business is as contained in the letter she kept hidden in her kimono sleeve during the entire trip must remain one mystery left to fate. No clue whatsoever had been given by the sensei regarding the reason for his interest in the viscount in much the same way that he had given her no opportunity to know or inquire about the man's past. All she knew was the fact that the English lord is twenty-nine years of age, a bachelor, and a potential danger to all women.
The last, of course, was her own conclusion.
Her thoughts were led astray by the incessant fidgeting of her sole companion who, in the process, had hit a rib and forced her to yelp in pain.
"Stop that Megumi! You're going to make us look EVEN more stupid than necessary!"
"Stupid? What could be more stupid than waiting an hour and a half for a man who calls himself a decent gentleman?!!! Why, if I had been his wife."
"Which you are certainly not, Megumi."
"Well, if I WERE, for the sake of argument, I'd be furiously mad by now even if he were the Emperor himself!!! Why, whoever this insensitive oaf of a lord is needs an instruction in manners, forcing us to display our wares like spoiled goods to a bunch of sweaty sailors!!!"
She had to wince at that. "I perfectly understand your point of view, Megumi, and I truly envy your vocabulary, really. Demo, I just don't see why you have to say that in English so everyone can hear you and your colorful compliments!!!"
"My colorful compliments are not for your ears girl! If only I have ANY idea what got into Hiko's mind to send us to the far end of the world to enjoy the pleasurable luxury of a barbarian's hospitality!!!"
She smiled as passers-by began to bestow them curious glances. "I suggest you save that speech for the lord when we do find him, MISS Takani! For the moment, why don't you keep still and let me think? I'm sure somebody out here knows where Westmoor is!"
"Ladies?"
A kind, gentle, hesitant voice spoke from behind, surprising them both.
A young man dressed elegantly in blue velvet and satin smiled and bowed at them with no less than the flawless grace of a prince. "I'm sorry. but I thought you say Westmoor. You must be Himura's guests then, I presume?"
The Japanese name almost interested the taller woman who bestowed the most charming smile she could muster to the young fair-headed teenager smiling at them with the most distractingly cute dimples she had ever seen.
But it was the girl in the yellow kimono beside her who spoke to the stranger with wondering eyes.
"Gomen, but did you just say Himura? Lord Westmoor is---"
"Japanese? Yes he is, very very much your kind, my Lady. By the way, I'm Soujiro."
That confused her all the more. This is England. How come everybody seems to have a Japanese name?
He laughed at her transparent curiosity. "I understand your expression, if I may be allowed to explain of course. I am a cousin to the viscount, whose mother became an inspiration to my own, leading her to give all her children Japanese names to the consternation of her husband, my father, who unfortunately, now rests in peace. By the way," he stepped forward, a little bit closer, his height allowing him to regard the girl whose raven hair and large deep blue eyes have begun to distract him to the point of absurd fascination. "You must be-"
"Kaoru. Kamiya Kaoru."
He tried the name in his mind and found it an interesting specimen. He might think of that name when deciding on a name for a daughter, or perhaps a wife?
He brushed the thought rudely aside. The girl could no more be seventeen, the same as his age, and so most definitely too young for the plucking. Besides, if she were Himura's guest, that means.
"Uh, you MUST know where Lord Westmoor might be then, Soujiro-san? I'm Megumi. Takani Megumi, if you please."
He turned to the taller, more attractively mature woman, smiling his best. "Of course. That's why I'm here. Himura is awfully busy and cannot, to his utter dismay and regret, personally attend to your comforts, so he sent me in his stead. The request came so late though I could not have been here sooner. But you will forgive me for that, young ladies, won't you?"
His smile was too much to ignore. Megumi could not help giving him a small bow. "Worry not, young lord. I certainly do not find anything wrong with a little inconvenience."
A little inconvenience!!! Kaoru gave Megumi a stare. "Shall we go then, Soujiro-san? Lord Himura must be anxious to hear from Sensei Hiko even if he's busy as you say, don't you think?"
He smiled at that, giving her a look of unsuppressed interest. "I could not have other thoughts my Lady."
Kaoru blushed at the suggestive remark, looking away to break the contact "Uh, I'm glad to hear that, demo," she smiled at him, trying her best to be polite, "would you please be so kind as to lead the way?"
Lord Westmoor sent his apologies for not joining them even for dinner. He had been taken ill, the butler said, all the while avoiding the cautious glances of the guests as he delivered his master's dull speech. Politeness, it seems, is as much the soul of English society as it is of Japan, but Kaoru find little sincerity in the viscount's words to judge it with similar respect as she would an equivalent in her tongue.
She pushed towards the side of her plate a strange black lump which looked anything but delicious. Megumi, on the other hand, had been eating with strange contentment, seeming to be in every way at home with the supposed 'barbarian's' hospitality.
Her change of heart is as much a cause of alarm as the dream she had that same morning before the ship left them in London. In that same dream, she heard a voice mock her, saying:
Wise you are, brave you are my child But in a lover's bed it is a harm To find an innocence, a passion wild To flame a sinner's secret charm
Who could this sinner be? Why should she figure in his bed? She had not had any serious acquaintance with any gentleman in her life, nor would desire an intimate one with a rogue no matter how charming! To talk of her jumping anytime soon in a lover's bed is therefore not only potentially absurd but astronomically impossible.
So impossible she had to avoid any man who might even dare. That she will!!!
"Kaoru? You don't look yourself or are you pining to be with Hiko now that you find company here a little stranger than you expected?"
She gave the woman a warning look. "Excuse me Megumi but I'm not the one who pines for Hiko as you so awfully suggest just now. In fact, I find this mansion rather. uhhhh.. interesting" she told her while finding a lump of food confoundedly difficult to swallow just then.
"Indeed? Have you found someone to distract you so soon that you've been shamefully absorbed in your thoughts since we came here?"
She coughed at that, grabbing a glass of water.
"Here, let me refill it for you."
The man that leaned so casually over her plate to refill her glass had an aura she could not name, forcing her to look up even if her better sense warned her of her earlier resolve not to be curious about any of the opposite sex that might present itself.
Blue ice-cold eyes met hers for the shortest second, brushing over hers so quickly she might have been mistaken to take its owner's attentions seriously.
"Aoshi, so nice of you to assist our host for the evening. I surmise these are Himura's guests?"
Kaoru turned to the other voice in the entrance to the dining hall. The man's starkly silver features are a vision to make any lesser woman swoon in desperate urgency.
Megumi seemed about ready to do that at least, giving both men a smile that could have seduced the charms out of a frog. She mentally shook her head at the scene.
So many men in one day. What is she to do?
"I was compelled to do the duty of an attendant for a wager I've so miserably lost to the deuce. Your being here of course does more to explain the devil's absence?"
Kaoru would have been embarrassed at the reply if she hadn't noted the familiarity that betrayed the choice of such words. Aoshi must be no less than a friend, a relative even perhaps?
"Nothing explains itself better than Himura's strange conduct with women. I assure you he's readying himself for a grand entrance."
The shrewd assessment of the viscount's behavior compelled her for some reason to give the silver-haired man a second glance. She found his eyes boring into hers, even when his attentions should be on the blue-eyed gentleman beside her.
She shivered slightly at the unexpected interest she found in his silver eyes, choosing to dismiss it by focusing on the black lump sitting on her plate instead. She gulped.
"I doubt that seriously, older brother," Soujiro, the boy who had been quite a talker at the port but seemed quiet since they came to the mansion, told the taller man with disarming simplicity, biting off the side of a deliciously red apple. "Himura's not the kind to devote so much energy on ceremony, as we all know."
The silver-haired young man only smiled at that. Kaoru noted with alarm that the smile bore more malice than charm as if he was reading those words from another light. "I understand perfectly what you mean Soujiro. I, Enishi, should know better about how direct and precise he could be with women as with all other things, so I could not agree more to his advantage."
"To his DISadvantage you mean," Aoshi observed, with a tinge of sarcasm. "Or should I remind you Enishi that you are in decent company?"
"You are always the moralist, Shinomori. Tell me, did you find the French Countess Avelieri half as amusing as I did?"
If the question was meant to disarm the gentleman, then the interrogator could not have failed more miserably than Enishi did, for the blue-eyed gaze he received was as unfazed as the moon.
"The Countess? Permit me to say the chit has a beauty so magnificently disproportionate to all wisdom and common sense I find her a perfect bore."
"Have pity Aoshi!!!" Soujiro laughed, amusement twinkling in his innocent brown eyes. "No beauty has ever been packaged so unfairly in words as the poor Countess, if I should be allowed to say so."
"My apologies then, but let me remind you that I do have a mind, Soujiro. And I will not lose it on a woman who could not be provoked to speak on any issue save God and her stupid manicure."
"Indeed. I guess I could not have had worse company then."
"No. And you should stay away from the flock of them for a good many years if you care for my opinion."
"As you must for other reasons, my dear younger brother," Enishi added, seeming to dread the closeness between the two that almost made him a stranger. He turned his attention abruptly on the two quiet women.
"Pray tell beautiful ladies, what brings you here across the savage seas? My cousin would be doubtlessly pleased if I could tell him some interesting thing or two about your trip, I'm sure."
Kaoru turned impulsively towards Aoshi as if to seek advice, though she could not tell what prompted her to trust the gentleman beside her more than any other stranger in the room. It must be his indifference that made him a better candidate for honesty than the younger, silver-eyed man wistfully smiling from across the room at her.
But Aoshi avoided her glance, chewing off food with the grace of a sublime philosopher. She turned to Enishi with a nervous smile.
"We bring a letter from Sensei Hiko Seijuro. He wants it delivered straight into the hands of the Lord of Westmoor as soon as possible."
"Indeed?" Enishi's eyes twinkled at the prospect. Could it be? The possibility is definitely not a mystery, even if the logic seems questionable. True, the viscount's heritage might make him a better match for a Japanese lady, but wouldn't it improve his reputation were he to wed an English lady of rank and unquestionable background, rather than another stranger of the same barbaric descent?
He looked at the young girl more closely as he pulled a chair from the other side of the table to sit right across the viscount's guests. He could not be mistaken.
The blue-eyed virgin is a little less his age and more Soujiro's. That makes her barely seventeen, eighteen at the most? What is Himura to do with an underdeveloped teenager even if her innocent charms proved tempting even for an expert lady's man such as himself? Not that the question is even significant. The wager would doubtlessly place the girl immediately at his disposal, where she could be won and wasted in lovemaking as easily as finer courtesans had been in his two and twenty years.
I promised to be merciless, didn't I Himura? The wager might not be worth much to me, but it will to you if you find the prospect of bedding an innocent half as thrilling as your conquest of the Lady Tomoe. Not that I envy you cousin, but knowing you a little more each day gives me greater assurance that your downfall would be pleasurable, cruel, and deep.
As cruel and deep as one can imagine.
Then again, he had not noticed the taller woman beside the girl. The long- haired vixen was dressed in an elegant pink and blue kimono splashed with white snowy petals on the sleeves and hemline of the robe. He thought she batted eyelashes at him, though on second glance, she seemed to be merely annoyed at something that got into her eye, confirming his suspicion that the more attractive woman could be the potential fiancé who would not dare look at him so suggestively lest she lose the viscount's favor.
All of a sudden, Soujiro moved his chair aside and gave a slight bow. "If I may be allowed to introduce them brother, the girl in the yellow kimono is Lady Kaoru Kamiya, and beside her, Lady Megumi Takani."
Enishi reached out to take Megumi's hand in his own gloved one, bowing propitiously. "My pleasure to have made an acquaintance with such a graciously lovely guest, my Lady."
"Many thanks, my lord," Megumi returned, smiling.
Kaoru felt something strange at Enishi's gesture, his intense silver-eyed hawk-like gaze too disturbingly intimate to ignore. But ignore it she will, forcing her to look away, anywhere but on their host's face.
It was then that she saw it, a pair of stricken eyes that glowed amber in the stairs above them, overlooking the table from where they dined not more than twelve feet away.
Kenshin could not have moved where it even possible. But it was not because Enishi had so brusquely advanced the wager this early by making himself so available to his guests so soon.
More because down below, a pair of curious blue eyes seemed to look into his soul, their startled gaze beseechingly innocent and at the same time adamantly curious, turning into a slight frown when he cared to hold her look far longer than he deemed appropriate.
Kaoru deepened her frown, resisting the urge to blush even when Enishi regarded him curiously from the corner of his eye, suspecting perhaps the target of her attentions.
Demo, whoever he is, she will not be so bold as to let the amber-eyed stranger think that she liked what she saw when their eyes met.
But didn't you, you stupid baka Kaoru!!! a small voice told her the instant she let her eyes return to the table and their host, silver eyes following the direction of her gaze.
But to Kenshin, her withdrawal left something deep within-a curious disappointment he could not explain-urging him to follow her with his eyes. Indeed, he quietly bemused, the way she nervously picked on her food to hide her obvious distraction is even more charming to behold. Could it be that the chick was trying to be innocent, intent on using the ploy as an instrument to capture his interest and imagination?
Yet, as much as it pleased him to realize how his instincts reacted violently to THAT accusation, he could not help but feel insulted at her casual dismissal of his presence. How dare she look away from him without as much as admiration or awe! Had he not seen women reveal their desires so openly and unabashedly before his very gaze? No one had been an exception, no one save another one, the one woman he could never, and will never have.
He frowned deeply at the memory only to meet a pair of silver eyes mocking him with the quiet knowledge and pleasure that his suffering hardly needs even guessing.
Enishi.
Obviously, the scoundrel's attentions had been on the taller, more elegantly beautiful lady seated beside the girl, who must be her ward. Surely, Hiko would have known women's weakness for the companionship of their own sex, especially when his fiancé must be traveling for the first time in foreign territory.
His fiancé. He didn't think that the affair could wear him out mentally as much as physically--the latter, of course, brought about by his stupid insistence to drink 'til two in the morning, or at least until his own friends had to throw him out of the inn to keep him from drowning his sanity in careless intoxication.
Now that Enishi had found him watching the whole scene, he would have to face the music with indifferent casualness and introduce himself to his potential bride as if the wager he had made a week ago did not bother him in the least.
Indeed, how could he even be bothered by it? Hadn't he thought of it in the first place? And for what reason?
No amount of denial could obscure the answer to that. He knew very well that the cursed engagement announced the same day he received the letter from Hiko was the root cause of this damnation. In the ball given in the honor of the Japanese ambassador's three-year stay in London, he had been informed as everybody had been, that the Lady Yukishiro's hand had been given to the ambassador's son, who will wed her no sooner than the end of next month.
The end of June. Might he end his life as soon as the cursed date comes? Surely, Yukishiro could not be expected to break the engagement as she or he might wish.
If only he could. He had never felt for anyone as much as he had felt for her. True, their relationship was not as innocent as he would like to think, but even if it were, he had always thought that she would be the one he would marry, were he brave enough to admit the need for it when they shared one bed six weeks ago by fault of his urgent manhood and her even more urgent longing for someone to share her grief.
Now, the slightest possibility of marriage with the woman he loved is gone forever, like a drop in a cascading waterfall. So many could take its place but none would ever be the exact one he so desired.
"Kenshin. do you intend to stand there the whole evening or should I drag you down the way I did last night?"
Aoshi raised an eyebrow at that. As far as he could remember, no one, not even him, had ever been allowed to as much as touch the viscount without risking life and limb. Himura had made that clear on several occasions. Which makes Enishi a shrewd liar.
"I think I prefer to come down as I please. Please be seated and take no unnecessary measure to embarrass me with courtesies I cannot return, Lady Takani, Lady Kamiya."
Kaoru bristled at his knowledge of their names. After all, she had been told that only the letter she carried would sufficiently introduce them to the viscount. Not that the logic is comforting. Hiko must have, by some uncanny attack of forgetfulness, failed to include that information in his previous correspondence with the lord, or so he says.
Which makes the other possibility worth considering-that is, the viscount must have been listening to their conversation early enough to catch the introductions Soujiro made when Enishi entered the room. She noticed the slight panic on Soujiro's face, confirming her suspicions. As for Enishi, he MUST be an expert in hiding his own fears because there is much to be embarrassed about his intimate overtures just minutes ago.
As for Kenshin, a second look would confirm that Lady Takani must surely be the one Hiko had in mind for him to marry. Not only is she of suitable age; the lady has graces that could only be appreciated in such royal surroundings.
"My apologies. I am Kenshin Himura, Lord of Westmoor," he told them, violet eyes brushing past them to regard their kimonos with seeming discomfort. Kaoru could not help fidgeting in her own, wondering how a real Japanese in foreign clothes could look half as dashing and elegant as the lord. Royal blue satin and velvet covered him simply, accented by white lace, which no more than highlighted the shock of red hair flaming around his neck and shoulders in roguish disarray. In fact, if he had worn the tail of hair an inch or two higher, he would have been a perfect image of a samurai, the cross-scar on his left cheek seemingly perfect in stressing that dangerous heritage.
She would have prolonged her interest if the pair of violet orbs did not glimmer in her direction, forcing her to turn away to keep herself from betraying more interest than he might deem polite.
He seemed to take pleasure in her discomfort, eyeing her with a secret passing intensity that made her insides leap in absolute panic.
"Anyway, you must have met my friend, Aoshi Shinomori of Cravenhall, nephew, assistant and confidante to the Japanese ambassador stationed here in London. On that corner meanwhile is my butler Ambrose Levine, the oldest most pernicious man if ever there was, in the whole of England. As for those two, they are Soujiro and Enishi Ravendyll of Westmoor, cousins of mine to the first degree."
"We are pleased to be in such good company, my Lord," Megumi said carefully, her accent perfect in every way as she lifted her hand to be kissed. Kenshin smiled slightly at the gesture, noting with obvious satisfaction her knowledge of English propriety.
As Kenshin bowed with the perfect, flawless grace of one trained to receive hands and kiss them in amorous flirtation as much as courtesy, Kaoru suddenly wished she had Megumi's confidence and skill. But she had not been trained in the arts as Megumi had, making her suddenly wish she had her shinai to explain her ignorance of more womanly endeavors.
"I surmise you bear news from dear uncle regarding my future?" he asked Takani, his eyes not leaving her face. This was what Enishi wanted isn't it? To get his hands on his fiancé as soon as he can confirm the fact that the woman was to be the one to share his miserable bed for life.
Takani gave him a quizzical stare. Kenshin thought it rather unfortunate that the woman should forget about so important a matter so soon. Not that his presence should flatter her wits out this early in the relationship.
It was then that Kaoru decided to draw the letter out of her sleeve, even as Kenshin paled to see his conclusions so frighteningly dashed. To make matters worse, Enishi must draw his own conclusions and act as he sees fit, as their wager mercilessly dictates.
Blue eyes, raven hair, small hands that made the girl all the more childish up close. Sapphire blue stared into his violet depths, in ways that spoke of an innocence so pure it tugged at his inner senses like an erratic heartbeat.
She who draws the letter will be Westmoor's bride. And you will not live to disappoint me Himura. Not when I hold the key to your family's fortune which you WILL lose should I allow it!
That other letter resounded in his mind like an empty echo. He took the piece of paper from the girl's hands and paled to an even more dangerous shade when the contents had been fully revealed to him.
"Sou, wold you see to it that Lady Kamiya and Takani have the pleasure of enjoying their stay for the night? I'm afraid I'm too tired to command Ambrose to attend to their comforts without precise instructions," he told his cousin tiredly, folding the letter abruptly to tuck it in his vest, as if the contents carried a plague that would swallow them up were he less expedient and swift.
The butler nodded, taking his cue from the young lad.
"Of course, coz," Soujiro answered, grinning. "Do you wish that they share quarters my lord?"
This time, Enishi took Takani's side, eyes shimmering. "Perhaps Westmoor's bride requires a more convenient place of stay?"
Kenshin had a moment to think. For certain, Enishi had not yet guessed the truth, nor would he encourage it if he can. Of course, he was doing it to save the real target of the wager who stood a handspan away, eyes regarding him with quiet curiosity and concern. Why he should even bother protecting the inexperienced chit is, however, a question he would rather not brood about, a headache already beginning its slow and painful descent to his right temple.
Kaoru stepped forward, handing him a smallish tin compact. "It's good for headaches, Himura-san. I mean, Lord Himura," she backed a step, blushing at her serious mistake. The red-haired man seemed too serious to be regarded any less formally, yet the eyes that shimmered beneath purple depths seemed to beckon to her in the kindest, most painful way she could not help but feel a certain.
Bond? How absurd. She had not yet begun to know him and here she is imagining they could be friends.
"Westmoor's bride?" Megumi's concern drew her attention. It must be the word 'bride' that bothered her friend for some reason. and her vocabulary is not that good to be of any help.
The viscount pretended not to hear, slipping the compact into his vest while turning to Soujiro with a serious shake of the head. "On the contrary, Lady Takani might wish to stay with her companion even if only for one night. The rooms are large and the halls terribly haunting at night. A companion might suit her better."
Megumi still looked disturbed, eyes not leaving the viscount's face. "I worry more my Lord, about the implications of the reference just made."
"It will be discussed in the morning, I assure you, Miss Takani. For the meantime, a pleasant good evening to you.and to you Miss Kaoru."
Kaoru? Even Aoshi lifted an eyebrow, confirming her recognition of that unconventional gesture. Even in England perhaps, acquaintances never dare to speak of one's first name without permission.
Before she could think of the meaning in his awkward friendliness, the viscount lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it ever so gently, forcing her to REALLY blush this time, her cheeks warming when his lips grazed her skin even if only for a fraction of two seconds. Then he turned his back on her and walked away, even as Enishi took Megumi aside to lead her away in the direction of their quarters for the night.
She would have followed Sou, Aoshi, Enishi, and Megumi filing out of the dining hall if she did not feel a gentle tug on her left shoulder.
"The Master wishes to have a word with you alone in his quarters, Miss Kamiya," Ambrose told her, eyes regarding her with the dullest hint of interest or concern. Something about the request bothered her more than the butler's strange countenance though.
She blinked at her own reluctance to follow his instructions. Was it fear? Concern? Her heart was racing like a horse and she could barely comprehend the reason. Of course, she would like to think that no man had ever been successful in making her afraid, so it couldn't be fear. But honestly. why should she fear the viscount? Could it be because she had made up her mind that such good looks can only mask a great danger? She wouldn't doubt it if the lord has indeed a reputation with women. Then again, he might have serious inquiries about the use of the medicine she had just offered him and nothing more. Yet, something about the intense fire in those amber eyes that glowed in the shadows the first time she saw him warned her coldly about the prospect of being alone with the viscount in HIS private chamber, with nothing but the butler's word to confirm her motive for being there in the first place. No. As much as she feels agony and concern for him, she MUST resist the impulse to follow. Besides, taking precautions is never too wrong anyway, is it? Her kendo training seems to support the argument even more strongly.
She faced the butler with a painful smile. "Gomen, demo, I can accommodate such a wish if only YOUR Master would be so kind as to tell me why I should come to him alone in the middle of the night."
"The lord, my lady, needs no reason other than his need. It is only proper that you answer his summons."
Answer his summons? Kaoru had to frown at THAT. Who does the viscount think he is anyway? Of course he is the Lord of the house, and has every right to do as he pleases. But certainly not to compel others to do as HE pleases.
He must be insane to think of even trying. Or too much of an arrogant ass to expect people to bow at his every convenience. Slowly, this realization had begun to replace her former impression of the young viscount.
"Gomen nasai, demo, tell your lord I will come to him in the morning, but not before or anywhere without Miss Megumi. Please make this perfectly clear. It's important to me."
Ambrose gave her a courteous bow. "I hope my Master understands such a request, young Miss. For your sake."
Kaoru gave that last remark a shrug. What the lord needs is a refreshing insight from someone who will not hesitate to pound some sense in his head. And if fate permits it, she might just be fortunate to have the opportunity to instruct the young, foolish viscount on this matter before his business with her sensei is over.
With that, she headed out of the hall, already bursting with optimism for her much awaited rendezvous with the viscount in the coming days.
The coming days. It sounded long and hard but she was certain there is much to anticipate and expect from the moody, incomprehensible Lord of Westmoor whose eyes have the strangest sorrow she had ever seen.