Prologue
In The Beginning
London, England
1858
The night was cool, a chilly wind tousling the young man's ebony locks as he strolled through the paved garden, a lit cigarette hanging from his full lips.
He takes a drag slowly, before exhaling the smoke with ease into the night air, his head tilted back and eyes closed with pleasure.
"Nothing beats a good smoke," he murmurs huskily to the busty girl clutching his side, her eyes wide and lips smudged from their previous interactions.
She giggles loudly, her high pitched laughs echoing in the now broken silence. He winces, annoyed, shooting her an irritated look to which she immediately flushes and quietens.
With a sigh he takes another drag, his back to the girl, already bored with her. He turns to the party from which they had come, the joyous sounds of partying guests muted from the distance.
His gaze travels to the gazebo nearby, when he sees her. Hunched over on the wooden bench, auburn hair flowing down her shaking back, he watches as her body heaves with quiet sobs, her small hands covering her mouth to muffle her cries.
Feeling his intense gaze on her, she glances up, her emerald eyes wet with tears lock with his golden hazel ones. He sucks in a breath at the sight of her, never in his years had he seen such a beauty.
The intensity of her gaze gave her this raw beauty that no girl could ever compete with, but when his gaze travels to her attire, he winces again.
For the young woman's misery is due to the plain maid clothes entitling her to work for the Harding household, his household.
She smiles sadly, her exquisite eyes lowering to her hands now clasped in her lap. Jem Harding, the last of his pureblood line, turns away from the weeping girl, for no matter the attraction the two held in that moment, they could never be together.
Even though he drinks, smokes, sleeps around and gets whatever the hell he wants, he knows the consequences of being with a girl like her, a muggleborn.
Turning back to the now plain looking girl at his arm, he fakes a smile, gesturing they go back to the party, and as the two walk away, he can't help but look back.
But her back is already turned, and the green eyed witch is fleeing into the night, her auburn hair flying behind her. Dropping the remains of his cigarette on the ground, he leaves, his thoughts haunted with the forbidden beauty.