Genre: Historical Paranormal Romance [please don't leave yet!]
Rating: PG-13 at the moment
Author's Note: Well this is my new story. It actually branched off from the prologue that I wrote about a year ago for a contest. I finally decided to add on to it and turn it into a full length story. Also criticism would be welcomed and loved.
Prologue
Paris, France - August 7th, 1842;
Lucien Gautier was sitting in his study holding a glass of brandy. He still had his day clothes on. He wore his white cotton shirt and his dark waistcoat his riding coat was over the back of his chair, he also wore the black trousers, white breeches, and his riding boots.
It was casual day attire but he wore it during his nights, since he spent his days sleeping in a darkened room. He swirled the brandy that was in his glass around, watching it through the thick crystal. He swallowed the rest and smoothed down his goatee as he stared at the fire that was blazing the the fireplace.
His hair was black and long, secured in the back with a leather tie letting a few smaller strands that didn't make it in the tie fall into his face to cover his eyes. His deep, blue eyes were transfixed on the red-orange movement of the fire. His frame was tall and thin, he towered over many a man and was thinner than most.
He was jostled out of his thoughts when a quiet knock sounded on the thick door, "Monsieur Gautier?" Genevieve, the house maid asked through the door.
"Enter," Lucien answered to her call.
He grabbed the bottle of brandy off the floor and poured more into his small glass as she came in. Genevieve was a small girl of about four and twenty; a girl from Lyon, France with dull blond hair that was always bound to her head with pins and pale blue eyes that he'd rarely seen hilarity in, she had thin lips that were never painted and that never smiled. She always wore dark gray dresses that bound her tightly inside, it made her stand straight, almost painfully straight. "Monsieur, the cook wonders if you are to eat tonight?"
"Yes, I would like lamb tonight, rare." He told her absently as he gulped down his glass of alcohol. He needed to dull his senses, his hunger was becoming to much and he had no time to go find someone to sate it for him.
"Of course, Monsieur Gautier." Genevieve curtsied before rushing out of the study and closing the door behind her quickly in a rustle of skirts and petticoats.
The household staff feared him but dared not to leave, he controlled their pay and also didn't want a scandal to darken their own names. They thought he didn't hear the whispers within the house, of why he slept during the day. They believed he secretly kept a mistress that crept in at night while they all slept and wore him out so he had to stay abed all day. Others believed him a witch. Then a few questioned him as a vampire.
The ones who thought the latter didn't know how right they were. He was a vampire, he'd been one for the past two years.
He'd been turned by a man who he didn't know and didn't see after his transition. It happened when he went on a stroll late one night to clear his head, he'd been grabbed a block away from his estate and bitten by a man. Though Lucien fought the man, who was thinner than him, the mysterious man seemed to have the strength of ten men as he easily took each of Lucien's blows.
Lucien was afraid when the man bit him, he felt his blood leaving his body with every suck of the other man's mouth. He felt his knees giving way and his body going cold and limp. The man pulled away just as Lucien was on the brink of death. The man looked at him with curious eyes, "Do you wish to live? Be young and beautiful for all of eternity, to never age a day or get a wrinkle."
Lucien meant to shake his head but he had no strength. He didn't mean to surrender to weight to the vampire he wanted to push away from him. The man took that as a yes and removed a hand from Lucien as he sliced a cut over his carotid artery and moved Lucien's face to the wound that was oozing blood.
Lucien tried to fight in his weakened state and got out a small 'no' but the vampire didn't listen and forced his mouth onto the wound, "Drink and live again."
He succumbed to the vampire's will and drank in his blood, gagging at the weird taste, choking on it.
When vampire forced him away and told him, "Go home and sleep. When you wake you will be one of us."
Lucien had walked out of the alleyway and to his estate in a daze, he didn't he have to think of doing it. His body seemed to do it on its own as if he was possessed.
Once to his home he entered it and walked up to his room, closing and locking the door before pulling the Samite curtains, which were a heavy black silk that was interwoven with gold.
He undressed before spilling himself into his bed and falling to sleep, only to dream of blood and death...
Lucien had woken up confused and disoriented. He was in pain. His muscles ached but he had no reason for it, he sat up and looked around his dark room. He could see everything, the paper that covered the walls and the wood that covered the floor clearly, even though it was dark.
He sat there examining the room with his new site and listening to the house with his new hearing.
He heard a knock on the door which pulled Lucien out of his memories and he looked at the door again, "I have brought you your supper, Monsieur Gautier."
"Enter," Lucien told her in a slightly cold voice. It was the second time that night he had been interrupted from his thoughts and it wasn't even eight.
Genevieve came in carrying a tray that held a slice of lamb, potatoes, and a glass of dark red wine from the Langmeil Vineyard which was in Australia and had prospered the year he was made into the beast he was.
Genevieve set the tray down on his desk and kept her eyes adverted to the floor. Her blood roared in his extra-sensitive ears, he could smell it as if it were in the glass of brandy he'd just taken a drink from.
He knew he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer. He had to have what she could provide him.
"Is there anything else you will need, Monsieur?" She asked quietly, not even looking at him while she spoke.
"Yes, I will be needing something. Come forward Genevieve," Lucien purred to her.
Genevieve shuffled her feet slowly as she went towards Lucien, it was obvious that she was afraid of what was going to happen. It was all over her mind, she was afraid that he'd seduce her, that he'd force her into a sexual act.
"Be calm," he told her in an almost demanding time. "I will not harm you."
She stood in front of his chair, her blue eyes on his feet and her heart beating quickly of fear. Lucien stood up and stood over her, towering about a foot over her.
"The walls have ears, Genevieve," he murmured to her, setting his hands on her shoulder and pulling her closer so his mouth was by her ear. "They hear what you and the other maids speculate about me. They hear and they tell me." As he talked his lips brushed her ear on a couple of occasions. He heard her heart pounding faster, "Although, I want to hear from you what you believe me to be."
"Monsieur... I must go," She breathed, she couldn't make it sound forceful even if she wanted to.
"No you do not, Genevieve. Now I wish to have an answer. What is it you think I am," He asked forcefully, squeezing her arms.
"I... I... I believe you to be a witch. A witch of dark magic." She whispered trying to pull away.
He smirked, "Why do you think such things?"
"Why else would you leave at sunset and return at sunrise; you also sleep during the daylight hours. They have said they see you with your cauldron and with your sacrifices!"
"Who fills your head with such lies?"
Genevieve's breathing picked up as Lucien's mouth went to her jawline, "I.. I must go Monsieur. Please, release me."
"Answer me Genevieve," he growled.
"Violette. She tells me she sees you at night, behind the stables. She tells all of us you are the one taking the horses so you can slaughter them and use their blood to perform your witchcraft."
Lucien's mouth twitched upwards involuntarily at the nonsense the maid was saying. His lips went to her neck, brushing them around until he felt her strong plus beneath his lips. "They are wrong Genevieve and you shouldn't have believed in such nonsense."
Lucien's fangs grew and he bit into her neck, her body jerked against his and she groaned, clutching his shirt and pulling at it in pain. He drank from her, taking in the taste of the blood that was solely hers.
When he pulled away, he licked he neck to closed the wound before rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth, she was holding onto his shirt lightly and had surrendered her weight to him. "When you awake tomorrow you wont remember what happened this night." He ordered.
Genevieve pulled away from him and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her. Lucien stood there, a sigh coming from him as he turned and went to the window which was still covered by the Samite curtains he drew over them every dawn, and pulled them open before opening the glass balcony doors.
He stepped into the cool night air before going over to the rail and looking out into Paris. This was his home. This is where he would stay until the end of time. He sighed contently at the breeze blowing his hair out of his face, the quiet filled his ears.
Chapter One
London, England - June 23rd, 1888;
"Sir, would you like me to summon your valet to ready the carriage and hackney for you?" William asked as he walked briskly to keep up with Lucien's long strides.
"No, I feel like walking this night," He replied to the older man as he took the steps of the staircase two at a time until he came to the main landing just outside of the small foyer.
"Sir!" called William as he tried to hurry down the stairs; his old, bony hand gripping the railing as he went as fast as he could. "What would you like for supper?"
Lucien ignored the butler as he hurried out of his own home, trying to get away from the servants that plagued him with to many questions.
Exiting his home, he rushed down the cobble stone walkway that lead out of the streets of urban London. The street was dark, the glow of the oil lamps - that had been lite only about two hours before - did little to light the way for anyone unsure of the path. He hurried his pace, getting farther and farther by the minute, wanting to get into a more populated portion of London for his deed tonight.
It was time for him to 'eat'. Lucien hated this part of his life; he hated it even more than the loss of sun and loneliness. He resented the fact that he had to use trickery with whores and innocents just to quench his thirst and keep from going on a killing spree, he hated the anonymity of the sex he occasionally had. He despised that he couldn't get rid of his curse and was trying to take it in stride, he tried to accept the fact that there was no way of returning to his former self. Taking it in stride hardly worked though.
As he walked, carriages and people began to pass him more frequently. He welcomed the clop, clop, clop of horses hooves, he accepted the murmuring voices of passersby; he almost enjoyed all the noise.
His thoughts came to a halt as he approached a street that was commonly used for whoring. It wasn't as deserted as he would have hoped; there were several people walking up and down the street and even more woman loitering. He smirked to himself as he saw a woman that caught his attention and continued to walk; pretending to ignore her as he started to walk by.
The woman; upon noticing him, perked up and began to approach. "'Ello," she said in a seductive voice as she drew closer. "Ya look like a man thats needin' himself a woman."
Lucien stopped in his tracks and turned his head slightly, letting her catch his eye, "How did you observe that?" he asked, not even having to attempt to charm her.
At the sound of his voice, even more so his accent, the woman's eyes brightened, "I know what a man needs and what he looks like when he is needin'."
He weighed her offer and then asked, "The cost, Madam?" As he looked her over, taking in the sight of her. The whore was a little thing with dull brown hair that was knotted and lifeless brown eyes that held virtually no emotion. She wore a tattered green dress without the bulk of petticoats and the restraint of a corset. He almost felt bad for the lifestyle of this woman but knew there was nothing he could really do but take advantage as every other man that passed her did.
"Five pence," she told him, as if pleading her case.
Lucien gave her a brief smile and accepted her offer, she hastily — as if to keep him from changing his mind— grabbed his hand and lead him towards the alleyway. He followed her almost obediently as she lead him farther and farther into the alley until they were out of view of the street.
He leaned into her slowly, his deep blue eyes holding her stare until his lips pressed to hers and she grabbed onto the lapels of his frock, pulling him closer to her. As Lucien deepened the kiss the whore's tiny hands began to travel lower to the front of his trousers. Breaking the kiss, he kissed down her chin and to her neck, sucking and kissing at it sensually as he felt the frantic beat of her heart beneath his lips. Lucien's fangs elongated right before he struck, his fangs singing deeply into the artery in of neck.
The whore gasped and stopped playing with the front of his trousers; her hands immediately went to his waist and began to grip, her dirty nails digging into him. Lucien sucked at her neck gently until he felt the whore getting weak in his arms causing him to pull back, his fangs leaving her throat and receded slowly back into his gums. He licked the wound at her neck and watched it heal slowly, leaving only a minute amount of his feeding on her.
Lucien released her and looked at her dazed expression, pulling out triple the amount she originally asked for and tucking it into her hand, "You will return to wherever it is you retreat to and you will sleep deeply. When you wake you will not remember me or any of this nights events, only that you received this coin from your usual work." Lucien told her in a stern voice, as if he was chastising a child. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, Suh," she murmured, her eyes half closed.
"Now go," he ordered as she pulled away and started to walk down the alleyway. He stood there watching her until she turned out of the alley leaving him in the darkness all alone again. He finally let out the first deep breath he had since he had arrived in London, relieved that the gnawing ache had finally left his body.
With his body refreshingly nourished he headed back to his home, almost looking forward to what the cook had prepared for supper.
Chapter Two
June 24th, 1888;
Lucien lay in his massive feather bed, the sheets and coverlet wrapped around his body in an uncomfortable way. Sighing, he sat up and looked around the room, curious as to why his body awoke him; he could heard the sounds of the house staff cleaning which gave him indication that the sun had not set yet.
He continued to listen to the noise in the house when his ears picked up on a conversation and he tuned in on it. There was a males voice, one he was unfamiliar with and William's, they were speaking down stairs in the foyer.
"I am sorry, Sir but the he is currently disposed of at the moment," William said politely.
The unfamiliar voice replied, "I've come to deliver a message from the Duchess of Wellington."
Lucien groaned, he had hoped to avoid publicity within the social circle of London. With publicity came unwanted attention and he really did not need that at the moment. "I will make sure he receives Her Graces' message. Good evening, Sir."
He heard footfalls before the front door closed and the houses cleaning bustle continued on and Lucien sat there thinking about what the Duchess would want with him. He'd been in London no more than two weeks and he hadn't received a social call or anything of the sort. The only people he had spoken to were his house staff, and when he had first arrived a few people in town that he could barely remember now.
As if all of the sudden, an idea as to why she sent him a letter came to mind. "Of course," he muttered to himself as he stood to get ready for the evening ahead, "The London Season is starting."
It was no secret that he was a bachelor and a wealthy one at that, being the rightful 3rd Duke of Angoulême. He groaned, knowing that no matter if he went or not staying here would cause trouble and leaving suddenly would rise suspicion.
As he pulled on his trousers a knock sounded on his door, "Master Gautier?" an elderly man's voice called from the other side of the door.
"You may enter William." Lucien said in reply as he retrieved a simple white shirt and began to button it; deciding that he didn't need to dress anymore. He didn't bother with the pesky cravat or waistcoat or the heavy frock coat while inside his estate and he did not intend to receive anyone else that night. "What is it you what?"
William cleared his throat slightly before speaking, "Her Grace Dutchess of Wellington has sent you a letter. It is in your sitting room."
"Thank you, William. Is there anything else?" Lucien asked as he donned stockings and boots.
"Yes Sir, what would you like for supper."
Lucien shook his head, "It does not really matter to me. Whatever the cook feels like making, I will eat it." He went over to the washing basin and rinsed his face quickly before patting it dry with a small hand towel located next to the basin.
"Alright, Sir." William left the room and Lucien followed, closing the door to his private chamber before heading down the hall to his study. Upon entering, he saw that several gas lamps were lite throughout the room, casting it in orange light.
He walked over to his moderately sized desk and sat at it, picking up the letter that had a wax seal with the Duchess' mark on it. Lucien carefully opened the letter and began to read.
Dear Mr. Gautier, Duke of Angoulême,
As you might be aware, the London Season is starting and I would like to invite you to the first ball.
Word of you has traveled around London quicker than one would have expected and many are curious as to
why you have been hiding inside your home. I am giving you a chance to come out and see the city and also,
for the women who have their eyes on you, to be formally let down. I expect to see you at my estate on
the twenty-eighth of June and I do apologize for the brevity of this letter.
Sincerely,
Eleanor Blyth, Duchess of Wellington
As you might be aware, the London Season is starting and I would like to invite you to the first ball.
Word of you has traveled around London quicker than one would have expected and many are curious as to
why you have been hiding inside your home. I am giving you a chance to come out and see the city and also,
for the women who have their eyes on you, to be formally let down. I expect to see you at my estate on
the twenty-eighth of June and I do apologize for the brevity of this letter.
Sincerely,
Eleanor Blyth, Duchess of Wellington
Lucien was astonished by the way this woman sounded in the letter, he'd never been addressed in such a way and it shocked him. It shocked him even more that she expected him to show up for her soirée in four days, which meant he didn't have time to formulate a brilliant way of avoiding it.
Taking out a piece of parchment, and dipping his quill and the bottle of ink he began his reply.
Dear Her Grace, Duchess of Wellington,
I accept your invitation and will attend your social party.
I would request you keep my attendance a secret until the day of, I do not wish
for Mother's - whose attention I've caught - to be plotting to toss their daughters at me.
It would be much appreciated.
The brevity of your letter is nothing to be sorry for.
Sincerely,
Lucien Gautier, Duke of Angoulême
I accept your invitation and will attend your social party.
I would request you keep my attendance a secret until the day of, I do not wish
for Mother's - whose attention I've caught - to be plotting to toss their daughters at me.
It would be much appreciated.
The brevity of your letter is nothing to be sorry for.
Sincerely,
Lucien Gautier, Duke of Angoulême
He quickly sealed the letter with wax and pressed his family's seal into it, before summoning his footman. He requested that the man bring the Duchess the letter and the man quickly left. As the man left Lucien hoped he wouldn't regret guaranteeing he would attend the Ball, and praying to God that He would not let anything unfortunate happen.
Chapter Three
June 28th, 1888;
Lucien was more than a little nervous about this soirée than he had been about anything in his life. He was so distressed that he felt like a school boy who was about to receive his first kiss and didn't know what to do. He wore his best social attire which consisted of a white shirt and cravat, black trousers and dress coat, and a red waistcoat. His hair was kept back by a tie and his face cleanly shaved, which was a first for some time.
He now sat in front of the Duchess' home not wanting to step out of the carriage; trying to gather the strength to do it on his own. Taking a deep breath, Lucien opened the door of the carriage and stepped out to see people entering the large home and loitering about outside.
He straighted and held his head up high as he began for the house, entering the gated yard several people turned to look at him before turning back to their companions to whisper about him. Lucien ignored the talk as he walked to the door, it immediately opened up as another couple went to exit. He stepped to the side and bowed his head and polite acknowledgment before going inside himself; young girls stood in groups talking and laughing with each other quietly as men and woman chatted casually.
Lucien then cursed himself more, for being out of his element and not knowing what to do. He was about to turn an leave when he heard a woman call, "Mr. Gautier, if you leave now I will never forgive you."
He immediately spun around to face an older woman, she was tall for a woman; almost six feet tall and had to be at least two score older than he looked. Her hair was left down and her face unpainted, her gown was a blue off-the-shoulder creation that put all the others he had seen to shame. "You were not thinking of leaving so soon where you, Mr. Gautier?"
"No Your Grace," Lucien said as he took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the knuckles lightly. "I was only going to go out for a bit of air."
She shook her head, "Please, call me Eleanor." She told him with a smile on her face, "I also request you do not lie to me. I know what a man running away looks like and you Sir, were running away."
Lucien could not help but smile at the older woman, "You are completely right Madam Eleanor."
"I am always right," she told him. "Now, I'm glad you came. Everyone will be thrilled to see you. It's not every day that we have a foreigner move to London." Before Lucien had a chance to reply she continued, "Where are you from originally?"
"Paris, Madam." Lucien told her politely.
"Ah, Paris. I have been there a time or two; it was absolutely remarkable," she told him. "Though, I was told by Mr. Watkins you came from Italy."
"I was living in Italy when I contacted Mr. Watkins about my current estate," he stated matter-of-factly. "I have not lived in Paris for sometime."
"Where have you lived then, Mr. Gautier?"
"France, Italy, I was also in Greece for some time." Lucien explained, "I enjoy moving about."
Eleanor shook her head, "Young men such as yourself should not be moving about like you are part of the circus. How is it that you keep your title and lands without being there?"
Lucien became uneasy by her question. He had his title since the year before he became what he was. His father had died, leaving it to his only son and Heir, it wasn't like he could openly say the title had been his for fifty years. "I have brothers who watch over my land. They understand my love for travel."
Eleanor continued to smile, "That is good that your brothers watch your land."
"Yes... It is." replied Lucien with slight pause.
"Now, I want to introduce you to some of the young woman who are in here this Season." Eleanor told him as she began to walk towards a group of girls that was looking their way and giggling like children. "Come."
Lucien followed her hesitantly as he said, "Madam Eleanor, I am not looking for a young woman to marry."
"Hush, I am not trying to play match maker. I am only trying to introduce you to some desirable young ladies." Eleanor said pleasantly just before getting to the group, "Good Evening." Each woman addressed Her Grace with a 'Good Evening' and curtsying, "I would you all of you to meet Lucien Gautier, Duke of Angoulême. Mr. Gautier this is Lucy Crowley, Beatrice Kent, and Elizabeth's Acker." Eleanor directed to each of the girls who were all prim and proper, each wearing a dress that cost almost as much as their dowries did.
"Good evening, Ladies." Lucien acknowledged as Elizabeth extended her hand towards his, Lucien took her hand and kissed it while the other girls giggled.
"Mr. Gautier, it is lovely to meet you," Elizabeth lilted.
Lucien nodded his head, "Like wise Mademoiselle."
Elizabeth smiled radiantly before saying, "I'm so sorry we have to be leaving you but the first dance is starting and all of us are already taken for it." She said speaking for her friends and herself, "Though, I'm sure if you want to dance we all have dances free on our agendas."
"No thank you, Mademoiselle. I am in no mood to dance tonight."
Elizabeth's smile turned into a slight frown while her friends left her side to go with their dancing partner, "Oh I am sorry to hear that Mr. Gautier. I hope that as the night progresses you will be in a fairer mood."
"It was nice meeting you Mademoiselle Elizabeth."
"You as well," she replied as she turned and smiled at a man approaching her.
Lucien turned away and looked at Eleanor, "Anyone else I must socialize with?"
Eleanor laughed, "Not at the moment, the young ladies are about to start dancing." They walked off to the side as the partnered men and woman began the dance.
"If I may ask, why are you not dancing with your husband?"
"He is socializing with the other men and will dance with me when he feels like he must dance," she responded.
Lucien and Eleanor did not talk anymore during the dance, the music played quietly and the people moved like one great wave. He watched the people curiously when his eyes settled on one of the young woman dancing with a young man. She was tiny and her hair was a dark brown in a simple bun with a gold comb in it, her dress was a deep plum color and lavender that was fitted to her well.
As he watched her move he became almost entranced by how she moved with her partner, his eyes moved with her movements and when the man blocked his view of her he shifted to look at her more.
Eleanor, noticing his movements and stare at the young woman said, "At least I know you are a man that is interested in woman."
"Excuse me?"
Eleanor let out a small laugh, "That is Lady Lorraine Whitworth. I will introduce the two of you at the end of this dance."
"That is not necessary."
"Of course it is, you will also be asking her for the next open dance on her agenda," Eleanor ordered. "You will not be standing around watching her all night and not dance with her."
Lucien sighed, "I will dance with her."
"Good," Eleanor then stayed quiet and the dance was soon over, the people scattered and Eleanor then said, "Let us go now."
She led Lucien right to Lorraine. Lorraine noticed the Duchess approaching her said, "Good Evening, Your Grace."
"I've told you to call me Eleanor, child." she told Lorraine before saying, "Lorrie, this is Mr. Lucien Gautier, Duke of Angoulême; Mr. Gautier, this is Lady Lorraine Whitworth, Daughter to Marquess of Winchester."
When Lorraine extended her hand to Lucien he took it and kissed her knuckles, "Good evening, Mademoiselle. It's a pleasure meeting you."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Gautier," replied Lorraine with a warm smile.
Lucien then asked, "Mademoiselle, would you honor me with your next open dance?"
"Of course, Mr. Gautier. None of the following dances in my agenda have been filled, yet."
He was almost shocked to her such news, he didn't understand why such a radiant young woman wouldn't have her whole agenda filled up. "That is terrible news."
"I must agree."
"If I may inquire as to why none of these buffoons would ask you to dance?"
Lorraine's jade green eyes sparkled as she laughed at his comment, "Hush now, they are not buffoons. I do not have the slightest idea as to why they do not want to."
"Very well then, I would like to offer myself to all the open slots on your agenda until one of these other men decide they would like to dance with you."
"I kindly accept your offer," giggled Lorraine.
The people began to gather again for the next dance so Lucien led Lorraine to the dance floor. The music started and they began to dance, "Mademoiselle can I make inquiry?"
"Of course, Mr. Gautier."
"What is your age?"
"I will be twenty in a few months and you Mr. Gautier?"
"Five and Twenty, Mademoiselle, " Lucien gave the age he physically was.
Lorraine looked up at him and asked, "May I ask something of you, Mr. Gautier?"
"Yes."
"I would request you stop calling me Mademoiselle."
"What would you wish me to call you instead?"
"By my given name. Even Lorrie will do, I just feel like a little girl when I am called Miss or Mademoiselle." Lorraine stated.
"I will call you Lorraine," Lucien told her.
"Thank you Mr. Gautier."
He smiled at her, "Now I would like to request something of you."
"What would that be?"
"Call me Lucien, when people call me Mister and Monsieur I feel like a man three times my senior."
Lorraine laughed happily and said, "I will call you Lucien then, as long as you continue to call me Lorraine."
They continued to dance and when it was over they talked more. They danced five times that night and each time Lucien learned something new about Lorraine, like her father let her come to the social party unattended because the Duchess was a friend of the family and knew that Eleanor wouldn't allow Lorraine's name to be scandalized. He learned that she had lived in London most of her life.
By the end of the night Lucien didn't want to leave Lorraine but knew he had to. "I must go," Lorraine told him with a small frown, "Father won't like it if I return home to late."
"I understand." Lucien told her, "I will walk you to your carriage."
She smiled brightly and they left the house, walking over to where her valet was waiting. Lucien opened the carriage door for her and said, "I had a wonderful evening."
"I did too, thank you for filling up the empty spots on my agenda." She gave him a small smile.
Lucien helped her up into her carriage and said, "I hope to see you again soon."
With hesitation, Lorraine kissed Lucien's cheek. "You are such a gentleman, Lucien. I hope to also see you again soon. Possibly at the next ball."
"Possibly," Lucien said in agreement. He wanted to kiss her back but not the friendly, innocent kiss she had given him on his cheek. He wanted to kiss her lips in a passionate way that would undoubtedly ruin her reputation. "I hope the rest of the evening is good for you." With that he closed the carriage door and tapped on the side and the carriage began to move, leaving the area and his sight.
With a deep sigh he turned and headed for his carriage, he was about to get in when he saw Eleanor rushing towards him with a sheet of parchment. When she got to the carriage she handed it to him, "Write Lorraine a letter to thank her for the wonderful evening."
"Madam Eleanor, I cannot accept that." Lucien said, he actually feared what was on that piece of parchment.
"You will take this and write her a letter. I have not seen her smile that way in a very long time and I will not see it go now that it is back." Eleanor told him sternly.
He took the piece of parchment and said, "Thank you, Madam. I will write to her thanking her for the evening."
"Good, I am glad. Now I will let you go. You are, no doubt, very tired."
If only she knew that he wasn't tired in the least. Actually the nights events didn't take away any of his energy. "Good bye, Madam Eleanor."
"I will send you a message for the next Ball. Good Evening." She turned and headed back into her home so Lucien closed the carriage door and tapped on the door. The hackney immediately took off, pulling the carriage away from the home.
