As they stepped into the grand ballroom, the orchestra's lifting melody enveloped them, and they glided together seamlessly. The crowd parted, their eyes drawn to the captivating pair.
"You have one more second to walk away from this, and I'm giving you that chance," he whispered, his breath caressing her ear. It was too late to back out. Now that everyone had seen them enter.
Maeve's heart skipped a beat. "Not a chance," she replied, her voice steady.
His hands wrapped firmly around her waist, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His eyes never left hers, burning with intensity.
"You're quite the firebrand," he whispered again, his hot breath against her ear. "I'm intrigued as to what you have planned in that little head of yours." It was all too obvious from the moment she asked him to dance with her.
Maeve smiled, her lips curling upward. "Perhaps I just wanted to prove I'm not as stifled as you claimed."
His chuckle was low and husky. "I know there's more to it. You're not one for impulsive decisions. "
As they twirled around across the floor, the silk of her gown rustled against his black tailcoat. The scent of his cologne, a subtle blend of leather and spice, enveloped her.
"Certainly, your father won't be the happiest when he sees you in my arms," he said, his eyes locked on hers. "Not that I'm complaining."
Maeve's response was laced with mischief. "I'm hoping for that," she answered.
The crowd gathered around them, watching with interest. She could feel the envious glare from the ladies who had sought his attention earlier.
Her sister Cecilia had her attention drawn to them as they glided through the room. It was captivating how they moved so smoothly. "The gentleman of the evening," someone had said to her, seeing as her eyes followed them.
Maeve felt a flutter in her chest. "I never got to ask how you knew me. For some reason, I can't remember you," she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
"And yet we talked for so long," he said, feigning a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Then he added, "Very few are allowed to call me Christian."
His hands drifted lower, his fingers brushing against the small of her back. A shiver ran down her spine as his touch sent waves of warmth through her. She felt alive, her senses heightened.
"And what happens when one not in that category does?" she says slowly, her voice low and flirtatious. She trailed her finger from his shoulder down his biceps.
Christian's eyes flashed with a warning. "You're playing with fire."
Maeve's response was bold. "Perhaps, I'm just getting started,"
Without warning, she leaned in, her lips crashing against his lips. The music seemed to falter, and the crowd's collective gasp echoed through the ballroom.
Christian's eyes widened, shock etched on his face. She could taste his dry lips and the faint hint of smoky cologne. The gentle touch sparked a fire within her as if the entire room had ignited. The world narrowed to the sensation of her mouth on his, the soft pressure, the hint of sweetness mixed with smoke. Cecilia's jaw dropped, her eyes fixed on the scandalous scene. The kiss was brief, but the impact was seismic.
Her mother's voice shattered the silence. "MAEVE BROOKLYN DONAHUE! " she shouted, her tone thunderous.
******************************************************
Maeve followed her mother to a secluded room, the sound of slamming doors and muffled whispers echoing through the hallway.
Her mother's face was red with rage, her eyes blazing with fury. "Maeve Brooklyn Donahue, how could you?" she demanded, her voice low and venomous. "You've humiliated our family, and ruined our reputation, and for what? A cheap thrill with that man?"
"Oh, come now, mother. It was just a kiss, a harmless encounter, don't be so dramatic," she said,
Her mother's voice cut in, relentless. "That's no excuse. You kissed your uncle, Maeve. Your father's brother."
Maeve's eyes widened, her mind reeling. "Uncle? I had no idea..." Maeve stood tall, shock still etched on her face. "He...he didn't tell me he was family."
"No idea?" her mother's voice echoed.
Her mother's expression turned thunderous. "You never think, Maeve. Like your father's family, you're reckless and selfish, Maeve. You always have been."
Maeve's defences rose. "I made a mistake, okay? But I won't be lectured like a child."
Just then, the door swung open, and Cecilia walked in, her heels clicking on the polished floor. Her eyes flashed with a tinge of anger, a spark that illuminated her otherwise pale face. It was a rare sight, Maeve thought, to see her sister's emotions simmering so close to the surface.
Cecilia's gaze fixed on Maeve, her eyes burning with intensity. "You are unbelievable, Maeve," she said, her voice low and venomous.
Maeve stood firm, her shoulders squared, her chin held high. "It seems everyone thinks they can scold me as they please this evening like I'm some child." annoyance etched at the back of her tone as she spoke, she turned to Cecilia with a frown," And what's your problem, Cecilia?" she asked, her tone laced with defiance.
Cecilia's voice dripped with disdain, each word enunciated with precision. "You kissed him, Maeve. Without even knowing who he was." The air seemed to vibrate with her anger.
Maeve shrugged a careless gesture that belied the tension in the room. "I'd do it again if I wanted to." Her words hung in the air like a challenge.
Cecilia's face paled, and Maeve sensed a deeper anger, but couldn't quite place it.
Her mother's voice cut in. "Enough! This is no time for you both to argue."
Maeve turned to her mother. "I understand I made a mistake, but I won't be shamed for something I didn't know."
Cecilia was made to leave the room, and she was alone with her mother again. She looked perplexed. Maeve knew yes, she understood the grave mistake she had made. But somehow the feeling of thrill still gripped tight on her heart.
Her mother's gaze turned icy. " Cecilia would have never done something so reckless." each word cut like a razor-sharp edge.
Maeve felt a stinging sensation in her eyes, tears threatening to spill. she bit her lip, fighting to contain her emotions. Her mother's words echoed in her mind, a painful reminder of her inadequacy.
"She's always been responsible, the one who thinks before she acts, but you...." her eyes locked on her, piercing her with disappointment.
Maeve's heart sank, her shoulders sagging under the weight of her mother's disapproval. "You did this all for some silly act of rebellion" her mother emphasized, her voice dripping with disdain.
Maeve's response was barely audible, her tone meek. "I wasn't trying to rebel" her voice cracked betraying her emotions.
Her mother's expression twisted into a scowl, her voice dismissive as she said, "Or thrill Who knows what goes on in that messed-up head of yours?" she spoke to herself, her words trailing off in a whisper.
A small huff of frustration escaped her mother's lips, the sound barely audible. her shoulders sagged, exhaustion etched on her face. "Your insanity will be the death of me," she said, retreating to the corner of the room.
Maeve's face reddened, her emotions simmering just below the surface, and her voice cracked as she whispered, "Sometimes, I wonder if you are even my mother" The words hung in the air, a challenge to her mother's rejection.
Her mother's jaw slackened, aghast. The silence was oppressive, heavy with unspoken emotions. Maeve could only stand up to leave the room. It didn't take long halfway through the hall. she leaned against the wall, her breath catching in her throat. She recalled the countless times her mother had dismissed her feelings, and a familiar numbness crept in. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of sadness and anger.
"I'll never be good enough," she thought, the painful realization echoing through her mind.