Page 5 of Malicious Desires

Fuck me, even her name sounds pretentious. “Seriously, mother. I wish you’d stop this constant charade of setting me up. I want to find my love on my own.”

“You will do nothing of the sort, Jasper. You will be marrying Miss London come spring.”

I scoff. I want to spit words at her, angry words but I don’t have it in me to hurt my mother. She’ll be a sobbing mess and go to father which will earn me a talking to and a hiding to the backside, despite my being an adult capable of my own decisions.

I don’t have a choice in this matter, so I need to suck it up and face my future wife.

“As you wish, Mother,” I respond, following her out of my bedroom to the parlour.

A petite blonde girl is standing with her back to me, facing the fireplace. Her hands are clasped behind her back, and father is next to her speaking to her in hushed tones. Her dress is cream coloured, resembling a wedding dress of sorts, and I have to clear my throat to hide the scoff escaping my mouth. I hope I’m not actually going to be marrying her right now. I’d rather dive head first into the fireplace.

“Jasper, son,” father says, his tone deep.

Miss London turns around to face us, and I have to admit she’s pretty. Not breathtakingly so, but she has a classic simple beauty about her features.

“It’s my pleasure to introduce Miss London Devine to you, as your newly betrothed.”

I step closer to London, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Miss London. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She curtsies to me, her delicate fingers clutching the side of her billowy dress.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr Capullo.”

Her saying that formal greeting stabs my insides. I hate being called ‘Mr’. It makes me feel like I’m my father, old and callous.

“Please if it’s allowed I wish you to address me as Jasper.” She nods at me, glancing a moment at Father who nods firmly, responding, “Allowed.”

“As you wish, Jasper. You may call me London.” I realise I’m still holding her hand, so I kiss it again.

“Are you ready to attend tonight’s affair?”

“Most indeed, Jasper.”

Still holding her hand, I lead her out of the parlour, and out to the limousine parked outside to take us to the party.

The chauffeur is holding the door open, and I continue holding London’s hand as she slides inside before I follow.

She sighs, the door closing behind us.

“Thank goodness that’s over,” she muses, sighing again and smoothing the fabric of her dress over her thighs.

“Can I be frank with you London?”

“Of course Jasper.”

“We won’t be marrying.”

She sighs again. “Thank goodness. I’m only here to appease my parents. I have a lover back in Hastings.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. Appease the parents for the night, and say we don’t feel we’re a suitable match.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do you have a lover?”

Her choice of words–lover–strikes me as odd. It’s formal, and not something someone our age usually says.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. Not really interested in having a girlfriend.”

---