Would You Be Mine?

You Are Mine...And Mine Alone

The soft gentle sounds of the quartet played in the background as the guests mingled together in the ballroom. The well-to-do upper class guests sipped their champagne and nibbled on the edible delicacies offered to them. The women huddled in small groups together, the men stood further on the outer, some with cigars and cognac.

He surveyed them from the railing above, taking in each and every guest, in particular, the beautiful ladies.

He recognised the majority of the guests as his eyes roamed, before stopping short on the back of someone unfamiliar. Yellow blonde hair piled high on the top of her head which showed off her slender, delicate neck, adorned with a single strand of pearls. She turned to the side and he was given a much better view of her. Her petite body was dressed in a pale pink sink gown that showed off the small swell of her breasts. She was engaged in animated conversation with another gentleman and lady.

He watched intently for a few more moments as the gentleman turned his attention to the other female companion.

The woman in the pale pink dress seemed to suddenly feel a presence, as though someone was watching her, and she shivered.

She turned slowly and her gaze was drawn upwards to the balcony.

Her eyes widened as she saw him.

His dark head of curls framed his pale face, his mouth was set in a thin line and his eyes were dark and intense. His suit was black, a white crisp shirt under the gold brocade vest and bowtie, his white gloved hands rested on the balcony railing.

His gaze did not leave her as he straightened himself up and walked towards the stairs. His eyes never left hers as he descended the staircase and once he'd reached the bottom, he walked behind the crowd, seemingly disappearing from her gaze.

Edith let out a breath, not realising she was holding it in. She was vaguely aware of being spoken to but the voice seemed distant. She turned to find her childhood friend, Alan, speaking to her.

'Forgive me Alan, I missed your question?' Edith apologised.

He smiled at her fondly.

'Lucy was just suggesting we could perhaps picnic for lunch tomorrow,' he repeated his question.

'My yes, that sounds lovely,' Edith replied looking at Alan, noticing the smile faltering on his face, his eyes looking over her shoulder at something.

No.

Someone.

Edith turned around and found the same gentleman she'd seen on the balcony now standing before her, offering her his now ungloved outstretched hand.

'Would you be mine?' he spoke in a low, almost hypnotic tone.

Unable to ignore the request, she felt inexplicably drawn to him. She delicately placed her hand into the palm of his.

'Edith...' Alan began.

The piano began to play a lone tune as the gentleman led Edith to the middle of the room. With Edith's hand in his, he drew her other up onto his shoulder before placing his hand on her waist. He guided her around the dancefloor, the two of them gliding effortlessly together. Edith looked up at him and felt her breath catch in her throat. She was met with such intensity from his gaze she felt herself begin to blush.

'May...may I know your name Sir?' Edith finally found her voice to speak.

'Please excuse me my dear,' he began, 'it was remiss of me to not to introduce myself. I am Sir Thomas Sharpe,' he bowed his head to her.