|| To Vex A Viscount || UNFINISHED ||

CHAPTER I | Pilot

British Tea, I believe is as pure as the wavering moon, the stars that collide into an eruption of mysteries and the fine light that creeps into your soul each morning you wake. Opinions are complimentary, they leave you pronounced, dignified, and understood. Tea in my opinion alludes to all of those things.

If I were to live any other life, I would always crawl back to my adoration of the British Delicacy. Even if it meant a person as sinister as Evangeline were to cause such a tragedy.

"EVANGELINE." I yell, as caffeinated water bleeds through my corset. "I am seared!" I watch the water drip upon the hardwood, as Evangeline snickers.

"Seared, you exaggerate!" she convulses, replacing the fine china to its saucer. "It was only tea."

"Tea, I was enjoying." I sneer, rather nettled.

Evangeline is the youngest of my families brood. She had debuted this year, under strenuous circumstances, one of which weren't to be disclosed. She predominantly wore a green fair chemise alongside laced gloves, sometimes complimenting an emerald broach. Her hair often found itself in an elegant updo almost similar to mine.

Evangeline admittedly is an amiable girl, she is polite in conversation and certainly a catch for any suitable gentleman of high society. Something of which I adversed her for.

"Evangeline," a voice calls, I look up towards the doorway, "do not tell me you spilt another cup of tea!"

"Jane!" I say, picking up my skirt. "It's been too long." I venture behind the mess, and towards the woman, habituating the door.

Jane is my brothers wife, they had met 2 years prior to the current, and had yoked right of the bat. Jane was the incomparable of her season, an unruly match. It made me wonder how odds were ever in my brothers favour.

Jane often visited us, on weekends such as this one. She finds herself rather entertained by our weekly tales. The most amusing of ones told by Harriet.

"You mean to say, you started without me?" Harriet calls striding towards the meeting.

"Oh Harriet," Jane laughs, taking her in for an embrace. "We could never."

Harriet is the middle child, alongside myself. She is remarkably witty and intelligent, often reading or writing in her bedroom. Something I couldn't relate too. She customarily wears the same chemise alongside Evangeline however her attire was most occurently in a softer shade of yellow.

"You must inform us of your adventures in York?" I insist, offering Jane a seat. "I have always wanted to venture North, it must be almost majestical."

She laughs in response, "Majestical may be an understatement." she gads.

I fluster in awe. I despise London, all of it, the significance of it all, the unclarity and uncertainty of a scandal. I find it rather pathetic, the enjoyment of anothers demise. Something I hoped to avoid until I reached a proper age for a spinster.

I have no intention of marrying, the arrangement seems more ever so fraught. I feel pity for those who were ever trapped into such a leg shackle, an unfortunate event indeed.

•••••••••••

The grand shutting devices open as Mama feeds us in.

"I do not need babysitting Mama," I muse, as my slippers pinch my toes.

"I wasn't advising as such dearest." she says, striding away, Harriet and Evangeline in clutch.

I observe the conservatory. Above me lay a fine chandelier peering the stairs, it sat adherently over the assortments of hyacinths. The light from the candles created an illusion of decorative floor patterns, of which I believed only I had noticed.

I bestow myself upon the first step, leading coherently into a spiral. The banister stands inches away from my hand, leaving me only able to edge slightly to catch my footing. I take another step onwards, to fall into a young lady.

She swiftly turns around, pulling me upright. "Abigail Forbes."

I steady myself, and grip onto the marble shaft.
"Alice Wilmington?"

I smile adhesively, as she pulls me into an embrace. "I almost thought you weren't in attendance." she begins.

I chuckle as I straighten my skirts. She looks at me warmly before taking my hand, and bouncing down the stairs.

"I have someone for you to meet." She calls, as we usher through the crowds, I remember why I hated sourires as we hault in-front of a well-dressed gentleman.

"Lord Harcourt." She beams, steadying my stance and pointing my chin up. "This is Lady Abigail Forbes."

"Its a pleasure, Sir." I pipe, submissively glancing Alice.

Another man seeks to join us as I return from the kiss bestowed upon my hand.

Alice curtseys, "Viscount Thorne." she nods.

"What-" I stumble up from the embrace, looking up to recognise Louis Throne. I grunt as he eyes me disapprovingly.

"You." he says, as I intermediately cross my arms.

"You." I repeat, as he counteracts the same gesture.

SO HOW DID I DO? ANY SUGGESTIONS PLEASE ENLIGHTEN ME! I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS I CANT WAIT TO SHARE!