by Lenore, Lani
They stopped a moment, observing the room as many girls looked to Christian and whispered amongst themselves about him, wondering if he would approach.
“It’s funny how you tend to be so good with the ladies,” mused Beatrice. “Yet, your brother…”
“Has it become that bad?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
She sighed and lowered her voice. “He doesn’t even try to put on airs anymore. He won’t share a bed. It is quite hard keeping the scandals away from the servants.” Beatrice shook this away and forced a smile. “But anyway, this is your night.”
“It’s my mother’s night,” he corrected her. “Yet again.”
More silence fell across the area as neither of them looked the other’s way. Christian wondered what she was doing here. Since his brother’s confession to her, they hardly left the house together.
“Dance with me,” Beatrice instructed abruptly.
Christian nodded in agreement as she pulled him onto the floor amongst the other dancing couples. After a few moments of looking around the floor and examining faces, Christian spoke.
“I haven't seen Joshua,” he said. “Did he not come?”
“You know he feels uncomfortable around large gatherings of women. He lived through this once four years ago and doesn’t want to do it again.”
“But he allowed you to come alone?” he asked her knowingly.
“He doesn’t know I’m here – as if he would care.”
“Why are you here?” he inquired, speaking his thoughts.
Beatrice took a deep breath, speaking quietly so that no one would overhear. “I’ve come to offer you an alternative to these sheep, as you call them.”
This alerted Christian’s ears. “Is that so?”
“Yes, I thought you might be interested - especially since it might cause the collapse of everything your mother has tried to do.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“My cousin. She’s a farm girl, and a pretty little thing. Just barely of marrying age, and her parents would be happy to give her away to someone so wealthy. Her name is Morgana.”
“She’s like you?” he asked, spinning her.
“A breath of fresh air?” she asked playfully. “Of course.”
He smiled and stayed in step with his brother’s wife. His mind trailed about, searching for reason. Was that truly all she had to say? Probably not. He was determined to find out the truth. This woman had been a friend, so he did not find it hard to stay tolerant, but tonight he honestly didn’t feel up to any games.
At the song’s end, they stepped in and bowed as was the last step. The crowd of dancers clapped at the musicians’ symphonic serenade. Christian took the liberty to speak, but kept his voice below the clapping.
“I don’t think that’s the only reason you’re here.”
Beatrice sighed in defeat. “Can we step outside?” she asked.
“Of course,” he nodded, leading her to the glass doors that led to the courtyard. They exited without trouble, though everyone watched his moves carefully. He only hoped they were out of earshot.
Christian leaned against the stone wall of the house, pulling out a cigarette and match as Beatrice looked around nervously to make sure they were alone.
“What do you have to tell me?” he asked, lighting up.
“Everyone will be wondering what we are talking about,” she said nervously.
“So long as they can't hear, let them speculate.”
She sighed, stepping closer so that she might not be heard. “I have offered you my cousin because I need a favor from you, and I know you are the only one who might do it.”
He had known there was something. He didn’t speak a word, letting her go on.
“Do you know what it’s like, Christian?” she asked. “Do you know what it’s like to have everything except the one thing you desire?”
“Sorry. I’m not familiar with the feeling. I take it that you are going to tell me, however – and then expect me to give it to you.”
“Your brother,” she began, ignoring his satiric words. “He shows me no attention. He cares nothing about me!”
“And you are asking me to?” he presumed.
“No,” she said, folding her hands across her blue dress. “I’m not asking you to love me…”
“Only to give you a little attention?” he finished for her.
He smirked a bit. He’d be lying to say that he hadn’t seen it in her eyes many times when she looked at him. He knew.
“I must be blunt and I know you won't mind that. I need a baby to squelch the rumors,” she said boldly. “You look similar to your brother. I don’t think anyone will notice that it isn't his.”
Christian took a deep breath, still holding his calm. She made it sound as though it was an innocent inquiry.
“I changed my mind,” he said. “Attention is the wrong word. I believe what you’re talking about is called adultery. With my brother’s wife? And a child – I’m supposed to live with that? You must think I have no feeling at all.”
“I thought this would be something that would appeal to your darker interests,” she tried, “and you always were the most attractive one, Christian. Much better looking than your brothers. Having Joshua fancy men… I just don’t feel like a woman! I’m still young, and I can’t live like this! I can’t bear the rumors. A child will take that away. It will disprove everything.”
“So, the idea is that I marry your cousin so that you can remain close and we can carry on together?”
She bit her lip, looking at him anxiously. Christian said nothing to this as a cool wind blew through his dark hair. The pretty woman felt the silent tension and quickly recovered herself.
“You don’t have to answer now,” she said. “Just think about it. Tell me you will think about it.”
She took hold of his arms and he looked down at her without flinching or changing his stern expression.
“I suppose we'll see,” he said simply, without any hint as to what his answer would come to be. Even he didn't know. He could be given to whimsy at any time.
With a smile, the woman leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek, but there was no passion in it. When she backed away and her eyes again met his face, he was as cold and stinging as the wind.
“I will leave now, but I meant what I said about my cousin,” Beatrice said. “She’s truly a sweet girl. If you are interested, let me know and we can arrange a meeting.”
He offered only a small nod to her and she turned to go with tight lips. Christian shook his head, looking down at his pathetic little cigarette. It seemed it would take more than this to get him through the night. He flicked it away and took slow steps back to the house. He was in no rush to get back to the party.
Back to the massacre of my pride.
2
Christian advanced back toward the house, but hearing a light rustling sound behind him, he turned slowly to set his eyes upon a face. The girl that had been creeping along the garden path stared back at him with wide eyes and then forced a smile across her lips.
“There you are,” Isabella said. “I was looking for you. What are you doing out here?”
“Getting some fresh air,” he lied, still tasting the smoke on his lips.
The elegantly dressed girl shrugged casually with a smile. He stared back at her, the color of her eyes revealing something to him that she wasn’t aware of. Had she overheard him talking to Beatrice - witnessed her proposition? Christian couldn't find it in himself to care. It was only Isabella, after all. If it was torture for her to think of him being with another woman, then he would let it be so. He smiled.
“I’m not letting you get away tonight without at least one dance,” she warned.
“Then let us go now,” he said, suddenly in good spirits.
Without more words, he grabbed her gloved hand and pulled her towards the house. Turning quickly, to Isabella’s surprise, he stepped right into dance as he twirled her grandly. Though
Christian despised the traditional actions of social life, lessons from his youth still stuck with him – dancing being one that he excelled at.
“Aren’t you in a good mood tonight,” she said, shocked.
“You expected less?” he questioned.
"Of course I did," she answered, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why would you be?"
“So many beautiful women, all here for me,” he went on. “How could I possibly be upset about that?”
He saw her expression change - how she was trying to hide her jealousy. He drank it in like fine liquor.
“And here, the loveliest one of them is in my arms now.”
Her anger turned to a rosy blush spreading across her face.
“If you really thought that, why didn’t you come last night?” she asked quietly.
“I did, actually,” he admitted, “but when I saw you sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t bear to disturb you.”
Isabella stared at him incredulously. “Did you really come?” she asked, disbelieving.
“Despite the storm,” he assured her with an odd smile on his face. She wasn’t sure of what else to say.
“You know,” he said, pulling her closer in dance. “As much as I hate to admit it, you truly are the most entertaining woman here, Isabella.”
“It took you long enough to notice,” she said reproachfully.
“Can you feel the weight of the wedding band on your finger already?” he asked.
She laughed slightly like she had practiced.
Christian took a deep breath of the air, which was polluted with the smells of the women around him. They had all put on fine fragrances and washed their hair in perfumes. Only by approaching one could he distinguish the individual smells. Mixed together as they were, it was enough to give him a headache.
Closing his eyes briefly to the music – hoping that everyone would be gone when he opened them – a radiant, singular fragrance drifted past his nose. In his nostrils, he detected the fresh smell of roses in the air. Opening his eyes, he peered around. It was not that the smell was strong, but it overrode the others until it was the only thing he could sense. He wanted to bury his head in it and breathe deeply.
“Where is that smell coming from?” he wondered absently.
“What?” Isabella asked, catching the end of his words.
“Do you smell roses?”
She gave a short laugh. “Not specifically.”
He traced his eyes over the crowd, searching for what wonderful creature had brought in this scent. Curiously, he saw people with turned heads, whispering to themselves. A few young men his age were making their way through the crowd in a specific direction. He was not the only one wife-hunting, but they all seemed to congregate around a certain spot now.
Following the seekers with his eyes, he scanned his way to a small gathering where a few men were introducing themselves to a new addition to the party. Her back turned, Christian could see very long and shiny raven locks, curled and draped over a pale white shoulder, revealing a slender neck and back. Her dress was of the reddest color he had ever seen – never had he seen such a rich red! She casually offered her slender hands, dressed in long black gloves, to the gentlemen introducing themselves, though her actions seemed forced. She was reserved, hesitant and shy.
Who is she…? There was no doubt in his mind that she was the one who carried the smell of roses.
“Is something wrong, Christian?” asked Isabella, snapping him back. “You seem preoccupied.”
He shook his head, not wanting to pry his eyes off the dark-haired girl, but doing so to glance at Isabella briefly.
“It’s nothing,” he promised, continuing their dance.
I have to get close to her.
“Could I cut in?” came a curt request from nearby, and they both looked up to see Charlotte standing there, glaring at her sister.
“I don’t believe he asked to dance with you,” Isabella said unhappily.
“This isn’t fair,” Charlotte said, keeping her voice low. “You are hogging him! Other girls want a chance.”
“Why don’t you go and tell the other girls that they’ll have to wait their turn?” Isabella growled.
“Actually ladies,” Christian cut in. “I think I’m going to take a break. I’ll return soon.”
Without waiting for their approval, he stopped in the middle of the dance and walked off towards the hallway. The two sisters watched him go, dumbfounded at his departure. Isabella’s face twisted first, but Charlotte was the first one to speak.
“Look what you’ve done,” she scolded.
The sounds of the sisters’ bickering carried on in Christian’s ears, but he comprehended none of it. He headed for the hallway in case they were watching, but slipped behind one of the columns and walked back onto the floor, cutting through the crowd to the far end where the mysterious woman had been. Would she still be where he had seen her?
Working his way through, his eyes finally fell back across her and her group of admirers. He could only see the woman from the back, but the others were still clamoring for her attention. She looked as though she needed to be saved. To be surrounded by people one cares nothing about can be quite an awful experience, he had found.
Causing the gentlemen to lift their eyes in defeat when they saw him coming, Christian stopped directly behind the young woman without her notice.
“Excuse me, miss,” he addressed.
At the sound of his voice, the girl turned and looked to him with large eyes. Her lips were full and red, her cheeks lightly stained with natural color. Her hazel eyes looked on his with attention, and her skin was clean and pure.
She's beautiful. Do I know her?
Looking down at her, a sudden feeling overrode his simple curiosity. Familiarity swept over him as he looked over the short smile that had come up on her lips. Who was this girl who looked at him so adoringly? He had met so many women - all of their faces had bled together.
“I'm sorry," he started, "but do I know you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps we could pretend to know each other,” she said softly, her red lips moving hypnotically.
Looking over her, an image floated through his mind; a vision in dark clothes, dark eyes and a blood-splattered apron. Could it be? She looked so different, but how could he be so surprised. It had been years. It was only last night that he had been in her house. He had seen the room where they kept her. All of those stories of her moving away and marrying off were lies.
Cindy.
The years had been kind to this girl. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Christian saw only her. And that smell - so heady it made his head spin.
“We can pretend," he confirmed, unable to hide his smile, "but you should at least know my name. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Christian Charming, and I do believe that this is my party. And you are?”
“Some call me Cinderella,” she replied slyly.
“Then might I ask you, Cinderella,” he said, his smile growing wider. “Do you dance?”
She looked to him with curious eyes for a moment, admiring his form dressed in black splendor. He admired her shoulders briefly in return.
“Do I dance, or would I like to?” she asked.
“Forgive me,” he said, being quite sportsmanlike. “Would you like to dance?”
He watched her examine him and suddenly found himself wondering if he had lived up to what she had expected of him after all these years – or if she had thought about him much at all.
“I'm not very good,” she warned him finally. "I haven't been given much occasion to dance in the past years."
“It would still be an honor,” he said, holding out his hand. She accepted, and he led her out onto the floor.
He rested his hand against her waist and felt his heart speed. Could he have possibly been nervous? It was unlike him. Moving carefully, he began to lead her.
For a while, they danced, with all eyes on them and yet their eyes were only on each other. Oth
er couples danced around them, but they went unseen. Christian was unaware of what his feet were doing, mesmerized by her eyes and her smell that seemed concentrated only around him.
“I was hoping you’d come but I didn’t expect you to,” he said finally, looking intently into her eyes.
“It was a last minute decision,” she said honestly.
“I’m glad you’re here," he said sincerely. "I've been thinking about you quite often of late."
"Have you?"
"Yes." Christian felt a strange ache in his heart as he watched her. Where had she been? What had they put her through since her father had passed?
Don't think about that now.
"You smell amazing,” he said instead.
He put his cheek against hers, his mouth near her ear as he breathed her in. She sighed, feeling the warmth of his closeness.
“I want to talk,” he whispered to her.
“Is it safe to talk here?" she asked. "Everyone is watching us.”
“I’ve arranged for a distraction,” he said to her. There was a smile in his voice. “All I have to do is trigger it.”
“Then what?”
“We slip away.”
He could sense that she was curious. Her red lips were smiling a bit.
“What kind of distraction?”
“Don’t you want to be surprised?”
His voice was mischievous, and she kept silent after that. As they danced, Christian worked to turn them a bit so that they were facing west. He looked across the room and she followed his eyes, and there his secret was revealed without words. There was a table set up across the way where a decorative arrangement was erected, holding silver trays and greenery. It certainly looked precarious, though beautiful, and he knew that the girl shared his thought. If that piece fell, the party would be interrupted for a short time. It would be a public disaster and his mother would be furious – everything Christian could want.
It's time for this, he thought. The perfect time.
Christian met the eyes of the man he had bribed to do the job. He gave a short nod, and the man acknowledged him. He set himself into motion.