African Enchantment

by Andrea Barry

  She wondered if Armand was aware of who she was. She knew he couldn't tell her by her looks. Her black wig completely hid her own bright hair. Her dress, its hem ending just a few inches above the ankles, hid her legs. Was it possible she had the same effect on Armand as his nearness had on her?

  Patricia looked for some sign of excitement in the muscular body of her partner, but saw none. Although she herself shivered visibly, there was no such outward sign coming from Armand. Surely then, he didn't know who she was. It was all right for now, Patricia decided, but she had to make sure that when she made herself known to him, she wouldn't lose him. She loved Armand. Surely he loved her too. She didn't want to think, to admit the possibility that he might not love her.

  "You dance beautifully, seňorita," Armand said in the melodious voice Patricia loved. A flush of happiness came over her, knowing that at last, she was in the arms of the man she loved.

  But he obviously has no idea who I am, she chuckled to herself in amusement.

  "Thank you, sir," she said, lowering her voice a bit below her normal timbre to make sure it didn't sound like her own. "You too dance well, handsome knight."

  Armand peered at her through the slits of his face mask.

  "Have we met before, lithe seňorita?" he asked.

  "I don't know, noble knight," she replied. "Who are you?" She would soon find out how Armand acted with other women.

  "I'm but a simple man, a stranger in this land in search of a lovely damsel who would fulfill my dreams of love. Could you be that lovely damsel, mysterious seňorita with the raven black hair?"

  What a flirt he was! But could Patricia blame him? She had rejected him. She had, in fact, sent him away. He had a perfect right to seek some amusement, as she herself had done with Derek.

  "Are you the damsel who will be my love?" Armand persisted.

  The truth was, Patricia wanted to be the woman Armand loved. But was this the time to reveal herself, hoping he would forgive her? She decided, for now, she would rather continue the game of make-believe. It might be a good chance to find out how Armand really felt about her.

  "Is there no other lady in your life on whom you would bestow your love, noble knight?" she asked craftily.

  "You read the very fabric of my soul, seňorita. Alas, there is such a lady, but she has spurned me. She has bid me goodbye and sent me away to wander lonely and heartbroken, and so… I must try to forget her."

  "Is she then so easily forgotten, noble knight? I should think your love wasn't so great if you can put her out of your mind so easily."

  "Only in your company, beguiling seňorita. For even though I can't see your face, you throw enchantment over me. I am under your spell!"

  So he is ready to replace me, even though he just admitted he loved me. Patricia's thoughts raced. What shall I do?

  "What if the lady—the lady who, you say, spurned you, what if she found she had been wrong—what if she had been led to believe you loved another, and turned away from you because she was hurt?"

  Armand pressed Patricia even closer to him. Through the fabric of his mask, the fragrance of his skin penetrated her nostrils, a familiar exciting scent. He didn't answer her query and remained silent as they danced.

  Patricia raised her head and moved away from him just enough so she could scrutinize the little lights that sparkled from his eyes through the narrow slits of his mask. "Perhaps, noble knight in shining armor, the lady has been searching for you, wishing for your forgiveness, wanting to tell you that she loved you. If this were so, would you still want to forget her?"

  "Ah, my sweet seňorita, let's not think of others. Let's enjoy the night that brought us together… the whim that made you choose me as your partner for this dance."

  Patricia didn't press him, giving herself to the dance, remaining cuddled in Armand's arms, as they moved gracefully together. Is it possible I have really lost him? This thought kept nagging her.

  "Tell me about yourself, beguiling seňorita," Armand said after a while. "Have you also experienced disappointment in love? Do you mourn a lover with sad eyes hidden behind your mysterious mask?"

  "You might say that I am… mourning a lover whom I myself rejected, because I thought he did not love me, but someone else."

  "Ah, then you too have suffered the pangs imposed by the green-eyed monster. That is what makes you so understanding of another's suffering."

  The midnight dance was approaching its climax. The music rose into a series of crescendoes. In a few moments the dancers would unmask.

  "Let's think only of you and me, sweet seňorita." Armand's fingers pressed into Patricia's back. She felt at one with him, her body melting into his.

  "Promise me, dark-haired beauty, that you will not leave me," Armand whispered.

  Patricia was sorry that the unmasking was upon them. She might very well lose Armand when he saw who she was. He now seemed interested only in the dark-haired stranger Patricia had dressed as! What could she do?

  "You must swear to be mine, seňorita." Armand's lips touched her ear as he spoke. "I fear I'll kill myself with this very sword I carry if you refuse me."

  "You are mad, truly mad, knight!" Patricia laughed nervously, trying to cover up her disappointment. Armand was actually speaking not to her, but to this Spanish girl she pretended to be.

  "You're quite right, I am mad. Mad for you, petite tigresse!" Armand said, emphasizing each word. "Can you blame me?"

  So he did know who she was, in spite of her elaborate mask! Had he known all along?

  "Oh, Armand!" Patricia laughed a very happy laugh. "How did you know it was me?" She pulled off her mask, and reached to take his down. The midnight dance had ended.

  "Don't you think a man in love should be able to recognize the object of his affection, no matter how clever the disguise, Patrice chérie? As, I daresay, you must have known who I was…"

  "Yes… I suppose you're right. But really, didn't I fool you at all—not even at the beginning of our dance?"

  "Did you mean to fool me, mon ange?" Armand reached for her hand and pointed to her wrist. "You're wearing the bracelet I gave you—I couldn't help but see it."

  The bracelet—of course! Patricia had never taken off the delicate bangle Armand had given her in Abidjan. She liked it so well, she left it on, even when she had become convinced that she would never see Armand again.

  Armand took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I knew you didn't really hate me, if you still wore the bracelet," he said.

  "Oh, Armand, how could you think like that!" She looked straight into his eyes, her own shining green eyes open wide and loving. "It is high time I tell you how sorry I am for misjudging you—I was convinced Brigitte Duval was your girlfriend."

  "Don't give it another thought, chérie. Aunt Pat and Brigitte told me. You simply believed what the newspapers were trying to have Brigitte's public believe."

  "That's true," Patricia said. "I'm glad she's going back to her husband. I guess she wasn't happy as an actress."

  Armand led Patricia out of the tent and into the garden, where romantic Chinese lanterns lit tropical trees. His arm was tight around her waist, as they strolled among fragrant frangipani.

  "No, she wasn't happy." Armand tucked Patricia's fingers affectionately around his own. "The kind of career she chose interfered with her marriage. And her husband was against it to start off with—not at all like a man I know who approves of his beloved's career. In fact he would be heartbroken if she were to give it up."

  "You know, Armand"—Patricia rubbed her head against his shoulder—"Aunt Pat once told me you were the kind of man who could never bore a woman. I must say I agree with her. You are the sort of man who understands the way a woman thinks."

  "Dear Aunt Pat! I'm sure that deep in her heart she hoped all along that you would care for me, petite Patrice. She could tell I had fallen in love with you. She knows my tastes and she knows me."

  "Really? I think it would take a lifetime before I could say I
knew you, Armand."

  "A lifetime?—are you willing to give it a try, Patrice?" His face, lit up by the soft lights of paper lanterns, was aglow with an inner fire, as were his beautiful deep-set eyes, mysteriously shadowed by long black lashes.

  "I'm asking you to be my wife," he said softly. "And I very much hope I won't have to wait long for your answer. As you yourself have pointed out in the past, I am an impatient man."

  His eyes now sparkled mirthfully, catching the sparkles of Patricia's bright green eyes that twinkled like little stars. They had reached a small arbor in the garden and sat down among climbing roses, never letting go of each other's hands.

  "Would an immediate answer be very inappropriate, oh noble 'Knight in Shining Armor'?" Patricia was hard put to contain a flooding happiness that filled her every pore.

  "Under the circumstances I think it is mandatory," Armand answered her in kind.

  "The answer is 'yes,'" Patricia said simply.

  He reached for her, his strong fingers pressing into her back, his arms entwined around her. Her bare flesh, where her silken costume opened into a low V, responded to his touch. Her breasts pressed against the hardness of his chest, as she tipped her head back, closing her eyes, her mouth waiting for him, slightly parted and ready to receive him. His lips met hers and Patricia was swept away. A fire consumed her, and it could be quelled only if her lover chose to do so. She heard herself moan, her body quivering from head to foot.

  "I want to be all yours. I love you."

  "And I love you, Patrice."

  Armand took her upturned face between his tapering fingers. His eyes shone violet-blue and they were filled with tenderness as he kissed her forehead and her eyes, while her own hands reached up to ruffle and then smooth his hair.

  Unwilling to move, savoring the joy of being free to express the love she felt, the sensuous pleasure and affection that flooded her, Patricia pulled his head down. It was her turn now to kiss his eyes, his eyelids, even his long thick lashes. How she had longed for this moment! And to know that it would not just be a moment, but a lifetime!

  "Come, man amour." Armand lifted Patricia gently from the bench. "First we'll go and tell Aunt Pat the good news, and then we'll have our engagement announced officially right here at the ball—what do you say?"

  "I say yes, yes, and yes," replied the future Countess de Vincent with great joy.