An Enchanted Evening

Part V

PART V

            Frantically my eyes looked for and found William; I gazed beseechingly at the one man who would definitely come to my assistance. So from across the ballroom, my eyes pleaded for him to rescue me from my uncouth partner.

            Immediately catching onto my wordless request, he quickly excused himself from the friends with whom he had been speaking and efficiently crossed the dance floor, striding purposefully to my side.

            “May I cut in?” Mr. William Mason requested my partner politely, his smile grim, his gray eyes blazing stormily as they met those of Lord Neville.

            Despite the social convention that demanded that Lord Neville release me to my new partner, he only pulled me closer—unconventionally closer—as he growled, “Get your own damned partner, Mason.”

            “I am attempting to do so,” William stated, his voice softly menacing. “You are required to yield in this instance, my lord.”

            “We’re rather delightfully occupied at the moment, so wait your turn,” replied Lord Neville with a smirk.

            That smirk did it. As my temper flared, I brought down my narrow high heel on Lord Neville’s instep with as much force as I could, causing him to gasp in pain, release me, and halt the figure of the dance, causing quite the commotion as the other dancers had to maneuver around us.

            Taking advantage of my act of painful and deliberate distraction, William whisked me out of the boorish man’s arms, rapidly dancing with me to the far side of the ballroom where we both watched Lord Neville, obviously aggrieved, limp down a hallway and out of sight.

            Glancing up at William, I giggled but abruptly stopped when I saw his murderous expression. “What is it?” I asked. “Why are you upset? Now we are dancing together, so—“

            “Neville man-handled you, disrespected your person, and refused to allow you to escape him. You were forced to injure him in order to escape, and I could do nothing to help you without creating a scene,” he answered, his gray eyes burning blackly with the depth of his emotion. “The fact that you were forced to take such action galls me to no end.”

            My eyebrows rose at these words. “So because I managed to help with my own escape from an insufferable man, you are angry with me?”

            William sighed, resigned. “No, I am not angry with you, my darling. But Neville had best keep his distance tonight unless he would prefer to meet me at dawn…with swords or pistols—his choice.”

            The color drained from my face as I shivered at the barely-restrained violence of his words, tone, and intention. “Please, William. Please do not call out Lord Neville over me, not when dueling is illegal. I could not bear it if you were incarcerated, or injured, or—worse—because of me. If anything happened to you—”

            Spinning me again as the dance required, his jaw was clenched, his eyes bleak. With a quiet groan of acquiescence, he replied, “I give you my word as a gentleman, Elizabeth. If he keeps his distance, Neville has nothing to fear from me. But if he dares to approach you again, all agreements are void. Is that clear?”

            I sighed with relief. “Thank you, William.”

            He sighed as well. “I will ask Peter to advise Neville of the arrangement—as proposed by the woman whom I shall wed as soon as the banns are read in church.”

            The dance steps separated us for a few moments, and then I returned to William’s arms, feeling safe and protected…yet not stifled. William had listened to me—truly listened—which I felt boded quite well for our future marriage.

            As he twirled me, I caught a glimpse of my aunt’s furious expression as Lord Neville reappeared beside her, apparently informing her of our actions. I rolled my eyes in exasperation as I reported the current events to William.

            Unfortunately, the dance with William had to come to an end sometime. As William led me through the complicated steps beautifully, I gloried in the safety and joy of being supported by his strong arms as the orchestra drew out the closing notes.

            “Time to face the music,” William whispered in my ear as he escorted me back to a fuming Aunt Carville as propriety dictated. Fortunately, Lord Neville was nowhere in sight, and William gave Aunt Carville a cold bow that she did not deign to return.

            All I could say was that the scolding I had endured was well-worth the alteration of partners as I had finally escaped Lord Neville’s overly-familiar hands, an accusation that Aunt Carville refused to believe.

            “I saw no such familiarities with your person,” she declared in a stage-whisper that still carried to the small groups of the ton immediately surrounding us.

            But the ball must go on, and continue it did as Aunt Carville accepted many dance invitations on my behalf.  

            And as was usual at balls such as this one, I danced with other young men, smiling politely but remaining distant with my partners. They were pleasant-enough fellows, but they did not have gray eyes or smooth auburn hair or broad shoulders or….

            Simply, they were not Mr. William Mason, Esquire.