Brain Bubbles

Expressions of a caffiene regulated brain.


Thursday, April 06, 2006

The Ball

His carelessly tousled hair did not move as he turned his head to survey the room with an opaque stare, his brown eyes revealing little, and yet not quite able to conceal a look of polite indifference to his surroundings. He stood to one side so as not to appear at odds with his present company, a friend to his left chatted with a smile to some satin-clad socialite. When his eyes settled on me, a woman of lesser courage might have been afronted and looked away. I held his gaze just long enough as was considered polite. His expression was one that to some may have been described as smouldering, but one, which dared me, a woman of more outspoken mettle to cross a room. Something of course which neither common sense nor propriety would allow me to do. Who was this insufferable upper class man who refused to dance with anyone? Keeping to his own company and leaving legions of women magnetized to his wake. I wanted to take his impeccably starched, crisp white knot under his devastatingly handsome chin and shake him angrily for making even me, feel such emotional turmoil. He murmured an aside to his friend and they both laughed. I would stand it no longer, a joke at my expense? I turned and made my departure from the group of ladies in whose company I now was and walked with purpose through the door and out onto the terrace. Sounds of music and dancing from the ballroom filtered unchecked through to me, and wanting some peace, and a place to collect myself, I walked out further and to the steps leading down to a lavender glade, and leaning against an obliging pillar placed one of my flushed cheeks onto it’s cool marble and felt some relief. Why had I been so jolted by him? We were without introduction and therefore no chance to even speak, and yet I felt as though I knew beyond a doubt that he was some landed gentry spending all his time on idle pursuits such as fishing or God forbid, shooting! Since he was clad in breeches for the evening having ridden to the ball, I realized I could not fault him for being a horseman, for I too, carried some renown as one of the best horsewomen in the county – at least giving my parents cause for pride, owing to my lack of skill at the piano, I reflected with a rueful smile. “Are you quite well?” His clipped tones eminent of an expensive education purred out behind me, and I gave a start, my heart already rising as I knew it would into my throat and I placed my hand on it as if to halt it’s progress. His well-shod feet had not alerted me to his footsteps, and now that he had appeared instantly beside me I realized just how tall and imposing a figure he cut. He stood with hands behind his back, light from the ballroom illuminating his dashing profile, his impeccably tailored black evening tail coat suited him most pleasingly and with some resignation I realized that I was completely and hopelessly - taken with him. How easy it would be for me to run, at this instant, to have him not comprehend the effect he was having on me, to try and stem the flow of wild thoughts coursing through my mind.