The dance with Rose came so natural, it was as if we were meant to be. I guided her graceful figure across the ballroom, stealing many jealous looks from our peers. I held her body close to mine, fearing that if I let go she would fall into another men arms. My eyes locked down with hers, everything was said between them. The silence was welcomed in our lips for our hearts were talking excitedly.
"I don't want this ever to end," I heard her whisper softly as she leaned her head on my chest.
I bend my head and placed a kiss on her soft, silky black hair. My hand closed tightly around her waist, holding her close to me. My gaze swept the room to find more scornful looks, but I ignored them.
"This turned out to be a strange and interesting evening," she commented.
"I know what you mean," I said, looking down on her beautiful eyes, "we are not the only ones we feel that way." I gave her a smile, thinking of Isabelle. I would introduce Rose to her sometime. I had the feeling they would make great friends.
The music ended, our bodies stopped moving, but were still close. Applause was heard in the room, and joyful laughs and compliments erupted from the people. Many ladies and gentlemen approach Rose to compliment her.
I watched with admiration and pride as she gracefully moved around the room and engaged the guests into a friendly talk, and I reckon I should do the same. I glanced around the room and found Isabelle and Jaque deep in conversation, apparently enjoying themselves. I skimmed the room to find Emerald, she was talking gaily to a crowd of gentlemen around her.
"You are a good dancer," a male voice said behind me.
I turned around and found Charles, his features were tightly stretched portraying grim sorrow. "You waltz better," I returned the compliment.
"Not enough to have Rose as my partner," he said in constricted agony. His voice trailed off as he watched Rose moving from person to person. His eyes suddenly lit with something that resembled love. I was disgusted by the love-sick appearance he showed.
"You should forget about her," I said casually, "she is not for you."
"Nor for you," he said, "I know your type William, and I hate what you've been doing to Rose ever since you moved into this manor two years ago. You don't deserve her.."
"And I presume you do?" I cut in, clearly insulted. I was also thrown into confusion, what had happened between Rose and me these past two years?
"Nobody deserves her perfection," he said, "but I get closer to her than you do. Stop playing with her, William, you are only hurting her. I warn you, stay away from her." He walked away from me.
The ballroom was being emptied from people as some boarded their carriages and left. I lingered in the reception, waiting for Rose to bid her a goodnight before retiring to my room. I saw Rose talking to Charles, he was holding her hand affectionately on his and caressing it. I felt like charging against him and smack him against the wall, but I was certain Rose wouldn't appreciate it.
Rose gave me a quick, helpless look as she was talking to Charles, then he retired to his room.
Rose swiftly approached me and before I could open my mouth in protest she silenced me, placing a delicate finger on my lips.
"Don't pout," she said in a soft, tender voice.
I gave her an innocent look and said, "I don't know what you are talking about."
I took her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, my lips lingered on her smooth skin. I longed for her lips. I look at her in the eyes and smiled warmly.
"Thanks for the waltz, Mister William," she whispered.
"It was my pleasure," I answered in a soft tone, "I hope we can waltz more often, Miss Rose. Allow me to escort you back to your room." I gave her my arm and I led her through the strangely familiar stairs and hall until we finally reached her bedroom. I wondered how many times had I been standing just outside this room waiting for her.
She opened the door and slid away from me, she was leaning her head on the door opened ajar. She gave me a smile full of promise. "I am afraid you cannot go beyond this point," she said in a soft, mocking voice.
I took her face in my hands and kissed her full on her lips. Then my lips brushed her forehead, her nose, and finally reposing again on her lips. We parted and I gave her one last affectionate look, then I walked to my room which was located on the hallway adjacent to hers.
I entered my room, rejoicing in the silence. The only thing I want to hear right now was what my wild heart was telling me.
I walked to my desk, opening the several drawers and sifting through the papers and notebooks. I read what I had written, it was a journal, detailing my whereabouts ever since I turned thirteen. Memories seem to flow to my mind, hatred for my childhood and resentment toward my family, who never accepted me. Nonetheless I made my way up through society and installed myself in this manor, but I felt lonely. Then I met Rose.