38Ruby Kart: I'm glad Archer is to your liking! Haha. Yes! Chanel was established in the late 1900s and rose to stardom in the 20s, I think. I LOVE Chanel. It's so elegant. ((: Thanks for your review! It's been a while. LOL.
BlackJairo-Shadow Rose: Yup, it's about Lady C. :P Michael's mom is American, and she isn't born yet in the Lady C's time. Wait till you see her in her teen years in the seventies! XD Hmmm…
AgentStrawberryFields: Less competition, indeed. ;) Though many seem to like him VERY much. Ahem. Ahem.
ForeverInfinity: Uh-huh! Sterling. (: You'll get the story of Lady C's life better at SMIH, but reading this on is all right! Wow. 1:39 AM? So early. Hahaha. Thank you for the lovely review!
And, indeed, thank you for your awesome reviews, guys!
I posted the link to The Key to Her Heart's official "cover." I got bored and made one. Go and check it out on my profile, if you want!
Chapter Three
I do wonder sometimes whether I'll marry the right person for me. I hope to God he won't be a sappy fool writing bad poerty, because then I'd go completely mad. All I want is love. Pure, maddening, unconditional love. I am not considered a romantic by anyone, especially Archer, but that is what I want, secretly. No one will ever know.
- From the diary of Margaret Swinton, 7 January 1948
I blinked, slowly getting my feet but not with a helping hand from the young gentleman in front of me, his large and warm hands steadying me up as I struggled to get up without looking much of a fool. But of course I failed not to look like a fool. I hurled myself at this person in front of me, who was helping me get to my feet.
I couldn't help but feel mortified at the situation I was in! But luckily, the boy in front of me offered an arm as soon as I stood straight, a tiny smile curving up to one side of his mouth. Without saying a word, I placed my hand on his arm and held my chin up like nothing was wrong. The guests in our circle were gawking at us like idiots, which seemed to add to Lord Sterling's amusement. I could tell he was entertained by the way those eyes of his scintillated as he scanned the crowd.
This is the one my parents want me to meet? I mused, looking at him from the corner of my eyes. I never thought he would be awfully handsome. And he was. Awfully handsome, that is. He had jet black hair that was cut in the style of the new era, which youths that time were wearing proudly. A lock of hair fell from his eyes, and I noticed that his lashes were as long as mine, yet spiky and positively sinful.
What was happening to me? I furrowed my brow at that thought. I shouldn't be liking this man. My parents and his were linking us! Yet…if he was going to be my fiancé, I'd be terribly lucky. A man with that facial structure and that hair and those eyes was certainly a package. Not only that, but he was over six feet tall, maybe as tall as Archer, only he had broader shoulders. I could already feel the toned muscles on his arm where my gloved fingers were touching.
I didn't think I regretted meeting him at all, come to think of it. He was just so beautiful.
But then the flock of young ladies and their mamas started to come all at once, questions flying everywhere. It was the most horrifying scene I'd ever seen in my entire life. Clearly, they heard Lord Sterling say, in the most amused voice, that I was his "intended." This was not good, for now the women couldn't stop badgering us.
I saw my mother being lost in the sea of frills and bobbing hairs, my father pulling her back before she got attacked by the mob, yelling, "Gloriaaaa!" The other guests, I was sure, were getting very curious as to what was happening. It was chaos!
"I don't know what you're talking about!" I snapped to a girl, who demanded whether I already accepted Lord Sterling's offer in matrimony. "Let go of my dress, you ninnyhead!" There we go with the dress grabbing again. Only this was different. This was war.
Lord Sterling gave me a look and leaned in to whisper in my ear. "I could easily charm these women for our escape," he murmured.
I gave him a stare that said, Prove it.
He saw the challenge in my blue eyes and gave a grin of a 1920s sheik, just like Rudolph Valentino. Wicked, playful, dangerous. I waited impatiently for the act he was going to pull, but nothing came. He only chuckled at the women. Chuckled! Was he mad? How would that solve anything?
Everyone was talking to him all at once - completely ignoring me, Countess Lockley - not even caring to give him a word in their questions. Instead of being absolutely uncomfortable and looking weary, though, Maxwell Cutting looked rather amused, listening attentively to their questions and talking about their daughters and the musical talent they possessed.
"My daughter Caroline here," Mrs. Hartford said with an arrogant sniff, pushing her daughter a bit forward, "is a genius at playing the piano. She can sing too!"
Lord Sterling looked at Caroline Hartford, who gave him a lust-filled look that showed in her green eyes. For some reason, I glared at her, which she did not notice because she was too busy flirting with the earl with her stupid eyes.
"It is a pleasure to know that she has talents, my lady," he murmured, giving everyone in the circle a roguish smile that made the young debutantes - and their mamas - sigh dreamily.
"My daughter Wilhemina can play the violin, the piano and the lute!" Lady McClintock pontificated, pushing her shy daughter rather roughly toward the earl. When he held her arms to steady her, she actually squeaked and took a quick step back, as if she was scalded. He chuckled, making the tips of her large ears redden in embarrassment.
"The lute? The lute?" Mrs. Hartford demanded, emphasizing her words unnecessarily. "What's the world you're daughter's living in, the Middle Ages?" she barked. "Ancient!"
Lady McClintock gasped, outraged. "I beg your pardon?"
"Ancient!"
"For your information," the imperious viscountess snapped, "at least my Wilhemina has multiple musical talents! Whereas your -"
Other fiery words were cut off when Lord Sterling stood between Mrs. Harford and Lady McClintock.
He gave them both looks that said they were being ridiculous, but their offended expressions diminished when he gave a boyish grin, saying in a lighthearted tone, "My dear ladies," he said, "if you are only fighting over who has the better talent between your daughters, and not fighting over me, who is standing here in front of all of you, then I am deeply wounded by my lack of interest, where lovely women, such as yourselves, are concerned. I daresay, I think I am losing my touch as a man!"
My jaw dropped. Was he serious? Did he think that was going to work? Well…he certainly said that so charmingly but…but…
"You are not losing your touch, my lord," Caroline Hartford purred, winking at him. The young lady's mother did not catch that wink because she was too embarrassed to actually believe that she was fighting over a silly topic with Viscountess McClintock such as the ancient lute.
"You're right, your grace," Mrs. Hartford mumbled, looking sheepish.
"Indeed," said the viscountess, giving the other woman an accusing look that clearly said she started it all. "We apologize."
"For not fighting over me instead?" The earl asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
They nodded, clearing their throat at the same time.
The cunning Lord Sterling beamed. "Excellent! You both have put me in a happy disposition, all because I am capable of being argued over by two beautiful women."
The two mamas actually blushed. Blushed! Good God, did Maxwell Cutting pull some kind of witchcraft over them? I couldn't believe this!
He was truly a libertine who could charm his way through anything, wasn't he?
The final strike was to be done here: with a disarming smile and bright silver eyes scintillating merrily, Lord Sterling said, in the most saccharine tone I'd ever heard, "I am afraid my mother wishes to see me and the countess, ladies. We do apologize infinitely." He glanced at me and chuckled. "Don't we, Marge?"
How did he know my moniker? That question was on the tip of my tongue, when he suddenly gazed away and bowed his head at the mob. When the women only stared at us, struck by his handsomeness and how ridiculous I looked with my stunned expression, I was sure, we raised our brows. Really, if they were going to stare at me in that way, might as well look imperious.
"Oh! Of course!" one lady said sheepishly, avoiding my cold eyes.
"You must not keep your mother - the duchess - waiting, my lord," said another to Lord Sterling. "Please do not hesitate to bring Countess Lockley to her," she continued on with a chagrined look at him, who merely smirked.
Why, he knew the power he held over all of them.
It was extraordinarily mad!
"We thank you," he said.
I said nothing. He nudged me.
"Yes!" I agreed, still a little dazed. "Thank you."
With that, and a reenactment of the Red Sea, they all parted for our exit, and that was it. We were free.
We were free.
"That was…something," I admitted, swallowing.
The earl chuckled. "Oh, that's just what I encounter every time I come to balls with my parents. I soon learned how to get myself away from their clutches."
"By charming them?"
"Indeed." He grinned. "And it did work, did it not?"
I nodded. I'd never seen such an occurrence happen. Never. And it was interesting and so incredible. He was a natural!
"So tell me, Lady -" Lord Cutting stopped what he was about to say, when my parents started marching toward us. They looked quite ridiculous, what with them looking absolutely elegant, yet they were eating the ground with each stride, my mother's not-so-long legs desperately catching up with my father's longer ones.
I glanced at the earl, embarrassed. I was sure he was thinking how odd they were, but to my surprise, he was laughing. "They are like my parents," he said conversationally, his eyes still glued to my stomping parents.
Dear heaven, Papa's head looked like a ripe tomato! "Surely, your papa's head doesn't look like an oversized, red fruit?" I asked, dubiously.
"Oh, not at all." He beamed at me. "He has an egg for a head. Quite sad, really. Mother always fusses with his hair to make it seem like his face is more defined and, shall we say, attractively longer."
I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing. "How positively sad!"
"Absolutely." His eyes were back on my parents. "They're a sight. Your mother barely reaches your father's pits."
"She's only five foot one, my lord," I said, rolling my eyes. "My father's not even that tall. Only five foot nine, he is."
"Yet such a determined little thing your mama is, isn't she?"
We both watched our topic scurrying, her tiny feet slapping the marble floor. She called Papa's name, and he stopped, sighing as he saw her coming toward him not five feet away. As soon as she reached him, he took hold of her wrist and pulled her to where the earl and I were standing, Lord Sterling looking quite amused while I wanted to moan with embarrassment. As much I loved my parents, they could be discomforting at times! But at least I wasn't the only one with parents like mine. Even the Earl of Sterling had the same, and Archer too. I felt much, much better.
"There you are!" Mama cried, chest heaving. "We were worried."
Papa rolled back and forth on his heels. "Thought you'd never get out of there on time," he explained. He blinked as he saw the earl standing right beside me, my hand resting on his arm lightly. "Oh hello, Maxwell, my boy!"
"Good evening, Lord Macclesfield," he murmured.
"Maxwell dear, have you seen your parents?" Mama touched his arm, her head tilted in question. "Because we have been looking all over for them, though we haven't seen them yet. They've been announced minutes ago, but where could they be?"
Lord Sterling sighed. "They must be surrounded by the nobility. Women would be asking Mother for party plans and men would be asking Father about politics." My God. Attention runs in the family, even back then, didn't it?
Anyway, the earl seemed so polite. Why did Archer say he was easily bored and his mother mentioned that he was a perfectly acceptable fellow, which didn't at all relieve my mother from negative thoughts?
But here my mama was, feeling so close to the earl, she even called him by his Christian name. Even Papa was the same - that meant the gentleman didn't seem so bad.
"Oh." Mama's eyes blinked rapidly. "Well, then, Harold," she said, turning to Papa. "We should get back to Mrs. Griswold. She'll be shrieking our name any moment now, I'm sure."
Papa visibly shuddered. "Agatha is quite demanding, you see," he told the earl conspiratorially.
"Why don't you two dance?" My mother's eyes were shining brightly, like she had been planning this all her life. Which, I did not doubt for one second, she probably did since I was in the cradle. Hmph. "The second set is going to start!"
"I would be honored to waltz with Countess Lockley," Lord Sterling said with a bow of his head.
"My, how wonderful!"
"See you later, sweetheart," Papa said. With that, he gave me a kiss on the forehead, and he and my mother left to find Archer's shriek-loving mother.
When the two of them were ten yards away, Maxwell Cutting released my hand from his arm and turned to look at me. "I have a better idea," he announced in his low voice.
Still a little shocked at how he charmed nearly everyone at this party, I asked, "W-what do you mean?"
"I mean," he drawled, his hand wrapping around my wrist, "we're going to get out of this place. It's boring, and, as I'm sure someone has told you by now, my lady, I am quite easily bored."
"That's true," I muttered.
He grinned at me.
I raised an eyebrow. "Where are we even going to go?" My parents were going to murder me. Or not. Mama looked as if she was in heaven when she saw the earl and me together. I think she'd be glad if he ever kidnapped me, too. My mother was exactly like me when it came to matchmaking - and I did not like it one bit. Not one bit at all.
I was already planning my next encounter with my parents when Maxwell Cutting cleared his throat.
Seeing my deviously determined expression, the Earl of Sterling laughed and tugged on my wrist as we began walking. "You'll see, Swinton." His voice went even lower. "And you won't regret a single thing."
Whatever did he mean by that statement?