He knew his own tastes in women; he had always preferred the ones with the greatest of graces, the most slithery with their words, surpassing all other women with just their looks - like Amanda when they first met. Yet, as he stood before the younger child of the Criswell’s, his mind seemed to be imbued into a strange trance, as he enjoyed seeing this unfamiliar expression on her face.
“Ivy...” Her pale hands cupper the maid’s warm cheeks, causing her to flinch slightly. It was only when her words came with a whisper, inaudible for all but them, that her expression grimed. “Do remember who saved you.”
“Of course, milady.”
“Go pack everything. We have a long journey ahead.” Ophelia declared, causing the maid to rapidly bob her head and leave.
No one, including Bradley, knew the reason for such strange behavior. The girl had just woken up when most doctors had no to little hope in her recovery and now, her authority echoed the servants’ senses like a fine, aged wine.
She was resolute, almost as if fate whispered in her ear everything and anything that was bound to happen in the upcoming future. It was clear Ophelia was hiding something, and it was related with the Wharton’s, probably even their eldest.
It seems I should bribe someone from the inside... Bradley thought as the maid took a turn, disappearing into the main building.
“Ophelia, are you alright?” He questioned, still averting his eyes as a certain flush hit his cheeks. He’d seen women in nightgowns before, so why was this time so different?
“Lord Bradley, it would be wise to understand your standing.” As these words flew into his senses, his thoughtfulness dissipated, remembering the woman before him was nothing more than his competitor, the only one who had managed to screw him over repeatedly. “I don’t think we are familiar enough to treat each other without honorifics, wouldn’t you agree?”
She smiled rather coldly, causing the two dimples in her cheeks to appear cockily. Bradley knew women from their tastes to their wishes, thus he’d never struggled to get the ones he set his sights upon - it was far too easy to melt a maiden’s heart. Ophelia, however, was different, being like a slippery fish who seemed to be immune to his charms, ignoring his social standing and stepping on his pride with such ease, it made all the other nobles sneer in jealousy.
He possessed but a single, hidden trick that was far more effective than love potions, than prayers to an unknown God. “I love you, Ophelia.”
The environment grew silent as a gentle, chilly breeze flew by, causing the leaves and the bushes to rattle in excitement. At that precise moment, the girl’s eyes widened, her figure froze, completely taken aback by such words. Surely, she wasn’t expecting to hear them, especially when he appeared so pitiful with his glimmering eyes, with the faint smile his lips carried.
“Bradley, I...”
Before Ophelia could continue her sentence, he approached, cupping her cheeks between his large hands, feeling the warmth of her blushed skin and the desire in her eyes to pass through. Timidly, as if this action was something done in the spur of the moment, his face leaned forward, lips aiming at the final prize. His arm, wrapped itself around the waist, raising her slightly in the air as her torso touched his, causing the nightgown to reveal even more of the hidden shape of the goods beneath.
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I win. He thought the moment their faces were close enough to feel the warm breath coming from her anxious lips. Confidently, his eyes closed, already anticipating the pleasures to come.
Those dreams were short-lived since his torso stopped midway, pushed back by her hands. “I won’t fall for that. But it was a good attempt.”
To her, this had been his best shot so far, making her heart even flutter slightly, however, she wouldn’t give in to her resolve, especially not to this madman.
Bradley just watched her slowly back away with a prideful grin on her lips, understanding she had won yet another round. She’d impressed him over and over again, causing his interest to reach extents he didn’t think could be possible - how could she be this captivating?
Her determination and cunningness were something rare in the days of today, especially in women, as most only cared about trivial gossip and competing by showing off their husband’s wealth and power.
“You are playing a game you can’t possibly win, My Lady...” The kind, charming façade fell completely, revealing the sole angel that had fallen from grace, being forced to live a miserable, solitary life without a shred of love. Seeing this, Ophelia shrugged and turned, but her travel was cut short as the noble grabbed her wrist, pulling her attention to him. “I always get what I want.”
“Lady Ophelia? Lord Bradley?” A female voice echoed through the garden, causing his hand to reactively release the girl. He didn’t intend to soil both of their reputations, after all. “What are you doing down there?”
“Lady Patricia, good morning.” He politely replied to the woman leaning on the window ledge, her flowery orange nightgown reflected the rays of the sun as a wide smile spread across her lips. She appeared rather happy, yet Bradley cursed her sudden appearance, praying the window would grow weak and cause her to smash that nosy curiosity onto the ground.
“Oh! Indeed, it is! Are you out for a walk?” Her voice grew louder, causing the noble to not notice how his prey had slithered away from his claws, already heading into the manor. “Please wait a moment, My Lord, I’ll be right there!”
During his stay at the Hillgarden’s, Patricia had been a complete and utter annoyance as her cheap tricks to capture his heart were far over used and unimpressive. Whenever Bradley left Ophelia’s temporary chambers, she stood at the entrance door, waiting for his presence, for a moment of his time, that could prove to become a priceless piece of investment.
Clearly, she was striving to gain his affection on the back of her friend, his fiancée, however, much to her dismay, the nobleman’s heart had been locked away under layers a woman such as herself couldn’t dream of reaching.
Once the girl entered the room again, her frantic screams echoed in from the window, clearly forcing her servants to hurry with their chores. Bradley’s gaze, however, was far more attentive to the maiden disappearing into the mansion, her fluttering nightgown dancing with the wind as her body turned, crystal eyes glancing at him from afar before disappearing from sight. Like a small dove flying in broad daylight, Ophelia was far too bewitching, far too perfect to sneak past his grasp.
“Fly as much as you want, butterfly. You will be mine soon enough...” A sense of adrenaline bolted through his body, recalling how her figure was so close to him, how her body was locked on his, their lips almost merging into a beautiful disaster. But it was also at that moment that a sudden realization dawned on him.
She was engaged to that filthy life form, Terrel, and he also was to wed her own sister - an event he was trying his best to prevent. Even then, his mind began imagining her, all alone within the mansion, far too close to that man’s lustfulness and desires. Surely, he would do what pleasured him the most: the complete ruination of a woman, as she begged and screamed for mercy in his monstrous heart. But such wouldn’t happen as he would make that man beg just to attain a mere one second glimpse of her face, since the place where he would stay was far too lonely for any man to bear.