The blood mixed with alcohol smelt strongly on Vivian’s pale green dress as she followed the old man who was Lord Nicholas’ butler with shaky legs. Though her parents had disowned her without her knowledge, reducing her pureblooded vampire lineage to a mere maid, she had lived a life nothing like it. Vivian who had been under the guidance of Martha and Paul all these years, working for the Carmichael’s had never been humiliated to this decree. Mr Carmichael’s brother Sullivan did hold an acidic tongue but never had Vivian been so demeaned especially in front of such large crowd.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she refused to let it fall. She wasn’t hurt but utterly embarrassed for something she didn’t do and expect.
The butler stopped at a large door, pushing one side of the door. His movements were slow, expression dull but eyes sharp as he held the door open for her to get in.
At the main hall Leonard didn’t go after Vivian, instead, he chose to stand in the circle where the women and Lord of Bonelake where. The atmosphere had cooled down as if nothing had occurred. It wasn’t an unusual sight to happen in the high society of the purebloods. Servants were often treated lowly to show where they belonged and the last few months things had turned dire for the lowly beings.
He looked at Lady Shirley who had a contented look on her face as she spoke to Lady Ventress who had poured the drink on Vivian. As his eyes moved past the women, it came to meet the Lord’s who held a mischevious glint in his eyes as if already knowing what was going to happen and waiting for the curtain to be pulled for the show to start.
“It was a lovely evening!” one of the women exclaimed to her husband who had come to stand next to her, “The theatres are always so vibrant that it makes everything so much better. You should go to the Odessey of the hunter which is being played this Saturday.”
“I have heard good words about it,” Ms Ventress nodded her head.
The women then leaned to whisper to Ms Ventress, “But it’s best to go with a partner if you know what I mean,” this received quite some murmur among the female.
Ms Ventress then turned to look at Lord Nicholas, to ask, “Have you seen it, milord?”
“I have. It is indeed a very interesting play. Like what Lady Harlin said, everyone should take a partner if you don’t want your night to be left out dry,” the Lord responded back and added, “Would you like to go see it with me, Ms Ventress?” it gained a coy smile from Ms Ventress.
“I would never refuse an offer of yours, milord. I would be very delighted to accompany you,” she bowed her head.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he smiled as his eyes shone with unsaid intentions. The Lord then moved his eyes to Leonard who was quiet, “What about you Leonard? I don’t think you have been to the play recently. It will make the ladies think here that you don’t like the theatres.”
Ms Ventress gave a look to Lady Shirley who was a close friend of hers knowingly well how her friend was aiming for the Duke and wanted to gain his attention. Ms Ventress said, “Shirley hasn’t been to the play either. Maybe Duke Leonard and Shirley should go together, after all, I heard that she knit a sweater for him for his birthday,” the woman smiled putting her friend in the spot in front of everyone.
“My, you did?” one of the women there asked, “The Duke must be special for her to knit it right. I heard from her mother once how bad she was at it,” she laughed making Lady Shirley send a small glare before the young woman smiled uncomfortably.
“It was a simple gift,” said Lady Shirley.
“It was a wonderful gift,” Leonard suddenly said making everyone smile at his compliment over the gift he received, “Lady Shirley put in a lot of thought in knitting the sweater. There is no doubt to say that she has a talent in sewing.”
Lady Shirley couldn’t hide the blush that covered her young beautiful face.
“Those are good words to hear, isn’t it Lady Shirley?” Ms Ventress asked her friend teasingly and her words fell into a whisper, “Maybe the Duke can take you to the theatre.”𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯.𝘤𝘰𝘮
“Lady Shirley if it is true you should make use of your talent. There are very few hands we find when it comes to fine sewing and tailoring,” the vampire said standing next to his wife.
“I wouldn’t go that far, Sir,” Lady Shirley responded back bashful.
Leonard then added, “I think Sir Wingerton is right. You should definitely make use of it, I am sure most of us would be very pleased. Maybe we should show them what you’re capable of right here. What do you say, milord?” he asked Lord Nicholas to which the Lord nodded.
“It doesn’t sound so bad,” the Lord remarked and called one of the maids who was serving food to the guests.
“I-I am really not that talented,” Lady Shirley stuttered quickly, her mind going blank at the thought of being caught, “Maybe we should try it some other time.”
“Rubbish,” Leonard waved his hand and then spoke to the maid who had been called, “Please get Lady Shirley some woollen threads and needles,” by now a good amount of people who had been talking on the other side of the room shifted their attention to them.
When Lady Shirley had received compliments one after another, she had been pleased even though she wasn’t the one who had knit the sweater. She had been showered with compliments but never had she expected for things to turn in this direction. Her palms felt clammy and her forehead began to cover itself with light perspiration.
Not knowing what to do, she looked at her friend Ms Ventress for help but the woman had no clue that Shirley didn’t know to sew a single piece of cloth and she had only made up the lie.
Leonard after asking the maid to fetch the sewing box glanced at Lady Shirley who looked distressed from the mention of the sewing box. His cool eyes drank in the fear that had begun to envelop the human female’s face. When the maid arrived back with an old wooden box, Lady Shirley looked as if she would faint any moment.
“This must be enough right? A simple one for the Lord would be perfect,” Leonard commented as he helped her in opening the box and setting everything on the table that would be needed for her, “Come, milady,” his eyes cold as ice which traced the ends of his lips as he smiled at her.
