An impertinent affair

11. Lessons

Nonsense! Unbelievable! Atrocious! I knew the prince was nothing more than a godforsaken impf.

All Elizabeth was receiving after the dance were stares. Some curious, some astonished, some condescending, and some...well, ready-to-kill.

And no further offers for dancing. None. Zero. It felt as if she were a prized jewel, claimed by the prince, to which nobody dared to lay an eye on. It was a relief that she didn't have to do something she despised any more, but the relief was short lived. Dormant.

What was more profound was the anger. The fury she felt as the crowd parted to make way for her, the prince's "chosen one". And all in a bloody dance!

The first dance of this season! Impossible!

Her blood boiled as she observed men trying to avoid her. More so when she thought what others saw her as right now-the prince's possession. If she had despised the prince earlier, it was nothing compared to what she felt now. It was pure, unadulterated hate.

And blood thirst.

Elizabeth already had her aunt coming in between her plans. And now she had the prince. And everybody in the room. To say this didn't bode well with her would be an understatement.

But it had just been a customary kiss on the wrist, a social obligation? Why was it such a big deal in here?

"It's a big deal because this is Warnia, Elizabeth," a sly voice sounded from her behind, answering her unspoken thoughts.

It wasn't an unknown voice. In fact, it was her favourite voice, until the voice chose to annoy her. Which was just the case at the moment.

"Greetings to you too, Catherine. I hope you find yourself well this evening," Elizabeth spun on her heels to face her sister's attractive face.

Catherine Rose Hastings was every inch the beauty one dreams to be. Her clear, fair complexion, high cheek bones and dazzling brown eyes were enough to have a person mesmerized, but it didn't end there. Her long and curly brunette hair, tall yet petite stature, thin waist and wide hips had men grovelling at her feet. It didn't help that she was the daughter of a rich marquess, having personal connections with the King of Demonire himself.

She was what the ton called 'a diamond among a sea of pearls' back in her debutante days. Just like every perfect personality has a 'but', our Catherine had it too. Her smart, over-working mouth who put every self-centred suitor of hers in his rightful place. It was her defiance against the pricks of the so-called gentlemen of the social class that had her happily don the spinster's cap at the ripe age of one and twenty.

Dear Catherine was convinced that no man was worth her, all were, in her words 'pricks with nothing to do in life other than gloat about their hunting and womanising escapades'.

With the coveted Lady Catherine off the marriage mart, disappointment must have circled among the men. Or so was the general assumption. Well, it hadn't been the case. Lords of the aristocracy, married and bachelors alike hadn't been more ecstatic.

It would have been difficult to have a bold and unruly wife, but not a lover. A bold lover only made the things more exciting. The limelight didn't leave Lady Catherine after she sought spinsterhood. Instead, it grew all the more. Now she was the most sought-after lover among the aristocracy.

The most sought-after. Not the most easily-caught one, though. Lady Catherine only entertained those she deemed worthy of her bed, and those were only a select few.

The arrival of Elizabeth's favourite cousin was a bonus. A bonus she was ecstatic she could have, because of the unforeseen obstacles that had chose to obstruct her. Lady Catherine was not your regular spinster. Unlike what the others thought about advantageous marriages and the power they brought in; Lady Catherine had garnered her power on her way.