The Way It Goes With Love
By Stacey Lui
Stacey_lui@hotmail.com
Chapter One
Serena Clair de Lune hid a yawn behind her fan. Lord Marcus has been complimenting her between waltzes since the beginning of the night.
"Your eyes are like…"
"Sapphires," Serena added nonchalantly.
"Your skin as white as…"
"Porcelain."
"Your lips is as red as…"
"A rose," Serena said as she finished his sentence for the umpteenth time. However the lord did not appear defeated. Not the least bit. Serena sighed; it was going to be a long night.
She has been showered with praises on her looks since she was a small child. A fallen angel, as her brother would call her, sent from heaven to grace the mortals with her presence. On the other hand her brother also said that she had the mind of a mischievous imp. Along with her older sister, Mina, Serena would raise hell, torturing their brother endlessly. Serena smiled at the memories but was interrupted by gasp.
"So you will accept my card?" Lord Marcus exclaimed with cheer. Serena mentally groaned, apparently her smile was misdirected. Lord Marcus Ceverux was one of her many admirers. With natural good looks and wealthy family background, Lord Marcus was one of the few most eligible bachelors of the Season. And with the attention that he has been focusing on her, it made all the other girls envious. However, it is well known that Serena was the Belle of the Ball. Since she arrived at London, she has received numerous amounts of calling cards- some from suitors she has yet to meet!
"Serena, dear," a middle-aged woman interrupted.
"Oh, Lady Wheaton. Lady Serena has just told me the most delightful news," Lord Marcus began. "She has agreed to let me court her further."
"Nonsense," Lady Wheaton replied as she dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "I'm her guardian and only I can deem whether you're worthy or not." The Lord spluttered with shock and Serena hid a smile behind her fan. "So Lord Marcus if you wish to court Lady Serena further I would suggest you go fetch us some champagne." To Serena's amazement the lord excused himself and headed toward the refreshment table.
"Merci beaucoup."
"No need to thank me child. You have been spending too much time in that man's company. The other suitors may believe you are actually interested in Lord Marcus. Remember Serena you have to keep your options open. I know you don't enjoy this but I did promise your brother I would have you married by the end of the Season." Lady Wheaton smiled weakly. "Come, your dance card is still full and I believe the Duke of Hawthorne is your next partner." She slowly ushered Serena toward the middle of the ballroom.
"Is it all right I get a breath of fresh air?" Serena asked. Lady Wheaton nodded and directed Serena toward the balcony.
The night was warm as were many summer nights and the cool breeze caressed her skin. Glancing down, Serena noticed that her hands were shaking. Quickly she hid them in the folds of her dress, but without Lady Wheaton noticing them first.
"I know this must be hard for you, child, being away from your family," Lady Wheaton slowly pried Serena's hands loose from her dress. "But you must endure, dear, if not for you, then for your brother."
Serena bit her lip. She never would hate her brother for anything but…sending her away…she did despise him for that. Tears began to well up in her eyes; she really didn't want to hate Jadiete.
"Come now child, no more of this nonsense," Lady Wheaton scolded gently as she handed Serena a handkerchief. "Dear lord, the man returned." Serena turned to see Lord Marcus approaching the balcony triumphantly with two glasses of champagne in his hands. Gently patting Serena on the arm, Lady Wheaton said, "Do not worry I'll get rid of the pest." Serena nodded her thanks, afraid that if she did anymore she would lose her composure.
The moon was full and illuminated the garden beyond where she stood. The gentle scent of roses wafted through the warm air, though pleasant as they were, nothing could deter her thoughts away from Jadiete.
The smoke lingered heavily in the room as well as the strong stench of whiskey. The laughter of men resounded loudly of the walls and into Darien Evergreen's head. He winced… the bloody headache was still as prominent as it had been earlier in the evening. He was still pondering why in hell he was at the uppity season ball.
"You all right there, chap?" the man from across the table asked as he blew a puff of cigar smoke into Darien's face. Darien stifled a gag and nodded at the man. The Earl of Montberry was the host of the evening. Like many of the married men, he has escaped to the smoking room for the duration of the night. Some bachelors, like Darien Evergreen and Zoiscite Macaulay, escaped the frenzy of the ball room for the temptation of the card tables.
The earl was a robust fellow, with redden cheeks- due to drinking or not, Darien wasn't sure-, who pleasured himself with the 'sins of society.' It was well known that the earl frequented many of the gambling hells in London also many of the whorehouses. However the earl was above criticism due to his political power and the enormous amount of money he possessed. That was why Darien and Zoiscite was there…to relieve the earl of some of his spare change. Actually, it was only Zoiscite who doing the relieving, Darien had dropped out of the game at the very beginning.
Zoiscite winked at Darien from across the table. "My dear earl, how much would you like to bid?" The old man smiled triumphantly and pushed the majority of his holdings into the center of the table.
"5000 pounds." The other gentlemen in the room began to crowd around the table. The game was just getting interesting.
Zoiscite let out a low whistle. Darien shook his head and hid a smile. The earl was a fool. Although known only to Zoiscite's closest friends, he possessed what his friends liked to call 'the gift.' However they all knew it was Zoiscite's sharp mind that gave him the most unbelievable luck when it came to gambling. Zoiscite was a notorious card sharp. "Well, my man, I'll have to match," he said pleasantly, as he shoved the entire amount of his holdings into the earlier pile, which gained him a shout of appreciation from the crowd. The earl's smile grew larger.
"I'm so sorry young man, but I believe I have gotten you beat." Flipping his cards over, the earl revealed a full house. Zoiscite smiled and the room held its breath as he presented his hand- five of a kind. The earl began to splutter. "Impossible! Bloody impossible!" His eyes narrowed in accusation. "You're a damned cheat, Macaulay." Darien jumped to his feet, and then the men around began to close in like wolves. Everyone liked to see a brawl, especially one among the upper class.
"Calm down, Montberry," Zoiscite began, who was also the only one remaining in his seat. "It's just a game. No need to be a poor sport." The earl looked like a mad hen as he ruffled his feathers at the cocky fox. "Come now, I'll even split my winnings with you. The night is still young, and we have many more games to play." Looking at the other men the in the room, he continued, "Come now, some of you gentlemen must surely be interested in an innocent game of poker." The men nodded in response and began to seat themselves around the table. When that was done, Zoiscite turned to the earl and smiled innocently.
"Fine. With all you here, I'll surely win." The earl grunted.
"Great!" Zoiscite grinned widely. "I'll deal. Won't you join us, Darien?"
Darien shook his head. "I believe I'll get some air." Zoiscite frowned. "Don't worry about me. You go ahead and wipe the smiles off these fools." Zoiscite grinned devilishly and gave a mock salute before turning his attention back to the cards in front of him.
Darien breathed deeply as he pushed the heavy oak doors open effortlessly. The sky was riddled with bright stars. He leaned against the rail and took in the view of the enormous garden. The sight took his breath away. Red roses intertwined themselves along the walls and appeared to be alive as they swayed in the breeze. Plucking one of the blossoms off a nearby branch, Darien breathed in the bloom. The scent of roses always stirred old and repressed memories. His mother used to adore roses. Her garden was pride of the household…until the day she died. The day they all died. Darien glanced down and saw that he utterly destroyed the flower in his hand. Carelessly he tossed it in the wind, and watched as it fluttered gently for a few moments before ultimately crashing into the ground below. Darien sighed loudly and glanced toward the sky. God had never been there for him, but if he ever needed prayer- it was now.
Serena was stirred out of her thoughts when she heard a loud sigh. Realizing she wasn't alone, Serena slowly looked over her shoulder to the darker corner of the balcony. What she saw astounded her to the deepest part of her soul. A man with devilishly good looks was standing across from her with his eyes closed and his face toward the sky. He appeared to be asleep. Serena knew it was silly and slightly dangerous but she tiptoed toward the sleeping man.
Darien prayed for the first time since he was a boy. He prayed for his father's soul, mother's soul, sister's soul, and most of all his own soul. Then he began rattling on as he prayed for the souls of his friends, business partners, and even his mistress. Darien smiled. The last one did not seem appropriate but before he could retract the prayer, another thought occurred to him. God, I know I have never lived up to your expectation…and may never will, but…Darien paused and frowned. He had the oddest feeling that someone was watching him.
******End of Chapter One******
