The Eternal Shadow

Chapter 13

XIII

By the time the day of the ball arrived, Francesca was sick to the back teeth of hearing about it.

Lydia was killing her with kindness, bringing ribbons for her dress or combs for her hair, creams for her skin or paints for her face - every day she brought something new and Francesca found herself rolling her eyes every single time. She took pains to keep her exasperation in check however, reminding herself that it was not often that somebody took so much time and trouble for her. What worried her about her cousin's efforts however, was how the changes were drawing attention to her which made her feel uncomfortable, especially now that Prince John had shown an interest in her.

On that front at least, she could breathe a little easier. It seemed that the prince was now captivated by her sister Natalia; indeed, little else was spoke of in her family's chambers or in the halls of court and Francesca welcomed the news even if her father and Natalia's incessant gloating did grate on her nerves. Despite the fact that this meant she was probably off the hook where dancing with him was concerned, she was still not looking forward to the evening. As she watched her relatives getting ready and patiently endured Lydia's fussing, she hoped for some kind of miracle that would prevent her from having to go. She closed her eyes and thought of happy evenings in the stables, where she could just be herself and enjoy spending time with the animals who cared nothing for dresses or dancing. She thought of Sir Guy and the way he had smiled knowingly at her upon hearing Natalia boasting at having captured the prince's attention. Neither of them had mentioned that the prince had also taken an interest in her, for who would believe them, but she was glad he had been there at the time and that he shared in her relief at having apparently been spared further advances from the royal.

"Why Francesca you are glowing! Whatever you are thinking of, keep thinking of it! You shall light up the whole ballroom!" Lydia exclaimed grinning at her. Francesca blushed deep red, she was quite sure that this was going to be the colour of her face most of the evening, no matter what her cousin might say.

As they finally made to leave for the big event, Francesca wondered if it was possible that anyone could be looking forward to this less than she was.

Then she thought of Sir Guy again. He'd looked especially exasperated this week: Vaisey had been giving him a hard time about the ball and as her father had commented that he probably had young ladies lining up to dance with him, Vaisey had laughed so hard it took the best part of twenty minutes to get him to calm down.

Yes, they were partners in dread on this one and a small secret place inside of her liked to fantasize that he might decide on a whim not to go to the ball but instead come sweep her up onto his horse and spirit her away from it all, just like the knights in stories always did with damsels in distress. Then she would berate herself for being ridiculous - she was lucky that he tolerated her at all after all the rumours and insinuations he'd had to listen to because of her: 'rescuing her' would be the last thing on his mind.

Although she tried not to, she thought of him often and his presence had been a comfort to her this week. She often felt strange for not finding pleasure in things that others enjoyed; dancing, parties and socializing - to know that someone else felt the same way made her feel better. Every eye roll or snort of derision from him at one of Vaisey's glib comments brought her a small spark of fondness, every smirk, frown or sigh an almost smile.

She was lost to infatuation, she knew...

but never did she know it more than upon entering the ballroom that evening and seeing him there: aloof as ever, sternly regarding the proceedings, arms folded in front of his chest, looking impossibly handsome and impeccably smart in a dark blue coat and black trousers.