"What of our families? What will they think?"
"Let us not live for them, let us live for us and our eternal love."
A century-long feud and a forbidden romance.
In which a Sutherland falls
for a Bridgerton, and despite
the cutthroat rivalry between...
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FOUR DAYS HAVE PASSED SINCE THE BLACKWOOD BALL and Margaret Sutherland would be a fool to claim that anything other than Colin Bridgerton himself was at the forefront of each thought. Whether she was reminiscing on how he felt beneath her touch and how he made her feel in return or recounting his words of endearment whispered beneath the moonlight's kiss, he was all she could think about. Even when sleep took reign and she was subjected to Morpheus' influence, Colin had managed to seep into each one of her dreams, remembered or not. Despite everything else, the one thing that prevailed all was the ghostly feeling still lingering on her lips — the result of their burning kiss that seared the impression of his mouth against hers.
She never knew what to expect from her first kiss. For, she was always certain it would be nothing extraordinary. Maisie always assumed her first kiss would be shared with the man she married, a marriage that would not be brought on by deep-rooted love. So, when she kissed Colin Bridgerton — a bold move on her part — she was unsure what to expect. But, her lack of expectations led the kiss to be far greater than she could ever fathom. Sure, she presumed Colin's lips against hers would be an enchanting event, but she never anticipated the simple action would realign the stars.
Although she was the initiator, Colin was quick to deepen the kiss. He was so soft and tender, yet fueled by the fire within. There was so much meaning he pushed into the action. A meaning with such a grave intensity that a million words could never sufficiently express — actions speak louder than words. He had grasped at the sides of her face, his touch so delicate but also wielding a flame that devoured her skin. Colin held her as if she were seconds from disintegrating into mere specks of dust through his fingers, losing her forever. Although she was painted with vulnerability, she had never felt so powerful than in that moment.
More so, despite the obvious unfortunate circumstances surrounding their love, there was something so thrilling about their secret. Colin was hers and she was his, and not a soul other than them knew of their love, of their secret so precious that it tempts condemnation. Their love could never meet the light of day, it could never be screamed through the busy streets of London. It was confined to the shadows and a low tone of voice. Yet, with each second she spent with Colin, Maisie believed more and more that their future could bend to their will. They could defy the stars. Why should their love be doomed? Why must their love have a time limit?
Why shouldn't they have forever?
Margaret Sutherland had always been a realist. Now, he was the cause for her sudden turn in viewpoint, for her hope. He gave her hope that they could have forever.
That evening, precisely four days after the Blackwood ball and their ever-so-memorable kiss, Maisie sat on the wooden floor of her bedroom whilst the large painting was discarded to the ground. Dark clouds shrouded the moonlight, dropping a light rain over the city. Raindrops pattered against the glass panes and the loud gusts of wind shook the window in its frame.
