Would You Be Mine?

1. 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 as 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, most with cigars in their mouths and a glass of cognac in their hands.

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. 

Dark chocolate hair piled high on the top of her head which showed off her slender, delicate neck as soft tendrils kissed the single strand of pearls that adorned her neck. 

He found himself quite intrigued by her, wanting to know who she was and how she came to be here.

She suddenly turned to the side and he was given a much better view of her. 

Her petite body was dressed in a pale pink silk 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, green in colour and intense.  His suit was black with a print embedded in the material, a silk red shirt a stark contrast with a matching long bow tie, strands falling from the edges of his sleeve that hung over his hands that 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.

Rosalie 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?" Rosalie 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," Rosalie replied looking at Alan, noticing the smile faltering on his face, his eyes looking over her shoulder at something.

No.

Someone.

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

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

Unable to ignore the request, Rosalie felt inexplicably drawn to him. 

She delicately placed her hand into the palm of his. 

"Rosalie..." Alan began.

The piano began to play a lone tune as the gentleman led Rosalie to the middle of the room.