My husband Chris and I had been friends with John and Meredith for three years, and in those three years I’ve never been able to look John in the eyes. I took a long drink, finishing off my fourth glass of champagne. I was starting to feel warm and I was beginning to not feel so overwhelmed by the amount of people in the room. Normally I didn’t come to large New Year’s Eve parties, but Chris insisted that we come. I looked around the room trying to find my husband. It was getting close to midnight and he promised he wouldn’t leave me, but he had. He always wandered off, leaving me to fend for myself. I didn’t see him and I let out a sigh in frustration. “Are you not having fun?” The soft deep voice caressed across my ear sending waves directly to my secret spot, making me shiver. I turned slightly to my right as John put his arm around my waist. The movement caused his hand to glide across my bottom. At least I thought it was me turning towards him, but once I was facing him he. To make things worse, I knew how to race horses (none of the side-saddle nonsense, mind you) and was well read than most of my father’s colleagues . Six years away at the convent had done nothing but to teach me to be a proud social outcast. All in all, I was the reason of the grey streaks in my father’s hair. That was not all though, when I reached the very worrying age of 25, another problem hit home- who was going to marry me? My father could live with a social outcast but to live with an unmarried daughter…He would rather kill himself. So, the biggest question arises…why would the most eligible bachelor of the century-Micheal Aramis, MP and owner of great wealth would want to marry me? Well, the reason was simple-He was not as perfect as he seemed. You see readers, fate loves irony-He had lost his voice to the scarlet fever when he was 10 and I instead was gifted with such a voice, which no one wanted to hear. So, to put it simply, he wanted a permanent speaker for himself whose.
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