An Enchanted Evening

Part II

PART II 

            Taking as deep a breath as I could against my tightly-laced ribcage, I determined to follow William, moving as quickly as I could in my restricting formal attire and high-heeled slippers toward the staircase down which he had disappeared. Using one hand to grip the curved iron banister and the other hand to hold up my skirts, I raced down the tightly-spiraled stairs, afraid to raise my eyes from the curving steps for fear I would lose my tenuous balance.

            Breathless, I finally reached level ground and glanced quickly about the gardens laid out in perfect symmetry around me.

            Where could he have gone?

            Gathering my skirts so that I could keep myself from tripping on the flounced hem, I ran lightly down a side path, well away from the bright lights streaming from the house that would reveal me to the guests above as I (quite improperly) sought Mr. William Mason. Chasing after a young man would definitely be unseemly, and to be seen doing so would be disastrous to my reputation.

            But catching up with William so that I could explain my response was imperative—and well-worth the very real danger of being seen doing so. 

            Reaching the end of the path, I was grateful for the moonlight that illuminated the extensive gardens and the glimmering lake before me, for without the silvery light, I would never have seen William seated on a bench beneath the spreading branches of a weeping willow near the lake’s edge. Gathering my skirts again, I raced toward him, ignoring the stitch in my side and the frantic but shallow breaths my corset forced me to take.

            Leaning forward on the bench, his head in his hands, William Mason was the picture of dejection. My heart nearly broke with the sadness of knowing that I had caused this beautiful man such grief.

            He could not have missed the sounds I made as I approached him at a run—the grinding of my high heels on the gravel path, the rustle of my skirts, my loud and unseemly gasps for breath. But he seemed completely removed from his surroundings—as if nothing of this world could matter to him again.

            As I drew within a few feet of his slumped figure, I released my skirt to reach toward him, but I promptly caught my high-heeled slipper in one of my flounces. With extreme clumsiness, I catapulted myself right into William’s arms, landing across his lap on my stomach with a very unladylike “Ooof!”

            For a very long moment I could only blink rather stupidly before I fully realized my very embarrassing position. I had fallen prone, the impact of my corseted front against his muscular thighs knocking the wind from me, rendering me incapable of breath and speech as black spots swam before my eyes.

            “Miss Swanson? Are you all right, Elizabeth?” William’s voice was frantic with worry despite my awkward position.   

            Noisily I gasped in a shallow breath—all the blasted corset would allow—as I tried to remain conscious, fighting the faintness that accompanied the lack of air in my lungs.

            Thankfully, William carefully turned me over so that I was reclining across his lap in a much more proper arrangement. At least in this position, I could breathe more freely, the black spots disappearing after just a moment, but a small whirl of dizziness arrived with the realization that his face hovered mere inches above my own.

            Finally I drew breath enough to start apologizing in a frantic half-whisper. “I-I-I am s-so sorry—so clumsy—I cannot believe that I—I apologize, William—no, I mean, Mr. Mason—I had to—no, I mean—I stumbled—well, obviously—but I—“