by A.J. Dixon
~Chapter Three~
"Good night everyone."
Taylor grinned widely as he watched the emotions play across Elizabeth's face. Happy to confused, confused to understanding, understanding to angry. He laughs to himself. His little half-breed looked so adorable when she was angry.
Your half-breed? A little early to be getting possessive, don't you think?
Shut up
With slow, measured steps he approached the table and sat down beside her. As soon as he did he got the idea that she wanted to run away from the table. The thought made him smile even wider.
"Father, who is this man?" one of the younger girls asked. Her elbows were on the table and her chin rested in her palms as she stared at him. Taylor got the idea that she was about sixteen or seventeen.
"Anna!" Lady Vivian admonished. "Elbows off the dining table."
"His name is General Iversley," Lord Vernon said to his daughter.
The other girls' eyes widened and they took up the same position as their sister. Ogling him.
"He's so handsome," one of them said.
"A total catch," said the other, who had a slight lisp.
"So very, very scrumptious."
They spoke about him as if he were a slab of meat. It was quite alright with him but he didn't really enjoy the idea of them crooning over him and Elizabeth wasn't. After all, she was the reason he was here. Not them.
"What is he doing here, daddy?"
He sensed the irritation in her voice. Perhaps she was still ticked off about the whole scene in the garden. Or maybe it was the fact that he invited to dinner. Or possibly because he was sitting right beside her.
"You know I'm right here," he said irritably.
Her head whipped around, her sweet smelling curls almost blinding him. "Yes. But I'd prefer not to acknowledge unimportant persons."
Ouch. That definitely hit a nerve.
Lord Vernon slammed his fist on the table. Everyone went silent. Even the lingering housekeepers seemed frightened. "Elizabeth, I've had it. For the last twenty years you've had things done your way and it's done now."
"But daddy--"
"No buts," he said pointedly. "You will treat your future husband with as much respect as you do your mother and me. Even more."
Elizabeth's mouth opened as she struggled to speak.
Future husband?
To who?!
"You can't be serious," she laughed.
Lord Vernon raised a grizzly brow. "I'm not laughing, am I?" He gulped down the wine and moved his gaze to Taylor. "Dinner will proceed as planned. Afterwards, you'll have the opportunity to get to know your betrothed."
Taylor nodded and started chomping down the food. The rest of the family quickly followed suit, eager to dispel the air of tension in the room. Everyone except Elizabeth, who continued to sulk on her chair all through dinner while her sisters tries to find out as much about him as was humanly possible.
"May I be excused?" she asked some twenty minutes into dinner. Her parents exchanged glances and her mother nodded in her direction. Elizabeth sprung from the chair and practically ran from the room.
Taylor looked at Lord Vernon who was shaking his head at his daughter's rudeness. "Do you mind if I talk to her, Vernon?"
The lord shook his head and sighed wearily. "I suspect she's in her drawing room," he said.
Lady Vivian told him exactly where it was. Taylor didn't need any more of an invitation. He jumped from the table and went after her as fast as he could.
Towards the stairs, just off the kitchen, was an oak panelled door with intricate designs and hanging ornaments. There was also a plaque beside the door which read: ELIZABETH ANN BELLINGER; DIGNIFIED SOCIALITE AND LADY OF THE YEAR.
Taylor scoffed. They really had an award for being a self-absorbed pansy? It was beyond hilarious.
Raising a fist to the door he knocked once, twice. The lock clicked and the door swung open.
