Endless

Memories of Love Unrequited | Aleria

I watched the other debutantes dance, letting the ebbs and tides of waltz music soothe my impatience. This wasn't my first coming out, but it was my first one in Britain, and it would be decades before I looked too old to bother. My family would never fit into British Society if I didn't take part, so I had to put up with the tradition of being ogled by dandies and dukes, wishing to hell I could be out there doing my true duty. I whipped my fan open and swished it about smartly, trying to drain my vexation into the action.

Everything around me glittered. The majestic chandelier above the dance floor, the crystal tumblers for punch, the ladies' jewels. The Empire style had made it into London. Not one of the debutantes wore anything else.

Another of the young men attending asked me to add his name to my dance card, which I did, although not with a song in my heart.

They tried hard, the ones who wanted to marry, but I wouldn't. Not ever. I'd seen how painful it was for my father to wait for my mother's return to his side. I wouldn't be able to stand it. Most of the young lords were mortal, which would be even worse.

They wouldn't come back.

The man went off to get us something to drink, so I let my attention drift back to the dancing couples floating over the glossy wooden floor. Most of the girls wore white, like me. In my case, though, the color was a tad ironic. My face heated at the thought, and I fanned my face to cool myself.

"Now there's a thought I'm dying to hear." Luc Davenport's deep, sonorous voice embraced me. It was the sweetest sound I'd heard in over fifty years.

I cried out softly and threw my arms about his neck. It'd been a lifetime since I'd seen him last, which was always sad, because he was my best friend in the whole world. He laughed softly in my ear as he hugged me.

"Later, you better find a good reason for hugging me like someone you knew for years."

True, but right then, it didn't matter. "Hmm. You're a family friend."

"Recently returned from France."

That caught my attention. I stepped back. His posture was prouder than before, his brown eyes more serious. He'd brushed back his black hair so much neater than I was used to seeing. Next I noticed his cavalry officer's uniform. It suited him perfectly. The dark blue jacket fitted him as if it had been custom made. Its buttons shone as if polished.

"War?" I frowned, shivering at the thought of losing him for another of his life-times.

He nodded. "I have a short leave, though." He took my hand and led me to my mother, resplendent in her dark green silks.

Her face lit the moment she laid eyes on him. "Luc! How wonderful to see you again. Come to claim my daughter's hand?" Her eyes, so similar to mine, danced.

"If she'll have me," he said, glancing my way. I tried to laugh it off, but I knew that look. It was the conversation I'd been avoiding for three of his lives. He returned his attention to my mother. "May I waltz with your daughter, madam?"

"Of course," my mother said. "Do go greet my husband later, though. He'll want to see you."

He bowed from the hip, then led me to the dance floor. We started dancing, moving together like two people who had danced together for hundreds of years. Which we had. Our hands automatically sought the familiar places on which to rest while we moved, perfectly synchronized to each other, even though it was the first time we partnered for the waltz. For a long time we said nothing, just whirling about the floor to the slow rhythm the orchestra dictated. He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb. It felt as if he burned the pattern into my skin.