Under The Moonlight

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Andrew couldn't believe his arrogant cousin was dancing with Jasmine. That idiot even had the nerve to try to win her heart with his so called charm. He could very well have been the murderer, especially since his brief condolences didn't sound sincere at all.

Jasmine had been on his mind since he first entered the ballroom. And when James had brought her to him after their dance, he was breathtaken by her appearance. The sapphire earrings really brought out her eyes but he didn't voice his opinion. Not after the last time. So he'd settled with complimenting her different choice of attire in a poetic fashion. To his surprise, she had smiled warmly and thanked him, a faint blush tainting her cheeks. That made him smirk. So she wasn't immune to flattery after all.

They had talked a little before she brought up Pierre and how apaulled she was when he'd told her he ate snails. Andrew had wanted to laugh at the mere thought of James finding snails delicious. Much to his dismay, he had to lie to Jasmine and tell her the false story of how he had met the French noble and their constant bickering. Luckily, she didn't ask any more questions and they talked more of themselves. 

Their dance was too short for him. He'd only just discovered how she wanted to find a husband this season so she couldn't marry a certain Lord Borington - whoever he was, and  her love of poetry, painting and theatre and how she absolutely abhorred the opera when the song ended. At least he'd asked to call on her on Monday. But his happiness was short-lived when Peter Stanhope strode over to them in pompous gait, a supposedly charming smile on his face. Once he had taken Jasmine from him, Peter looked back over his shoulder and smirked.

Stupid pig-headed dandy.    

"Are you alright, my lord?" his dance partner inquired. "You look rather distraught,"

"I am quite alright," Andrew answered. "I'm just a little parched,"

The young lady didn't waste a second and dashed away to retrieve him a beverage. Before he could even register her abrupt departure, she returned with a glass of lemonade.

"Thank you," he told the golden-haired girl as she handed him the glass.

"No problem, my lord," she beamed. "I just need to know... do you like how Jasmine looks tonight?"

Andrew nearly choked on his drink. Where had that come from?

"So you do," she stated, watching Jasmine quickly pull away from her partner and walk over to a fair-haired man. "I hope no other gentlemen notice her like you have, my lord. She'd have a hard time choosing a husband if that were so."

Andrew stared at the lady beside him. She wasn't talking like this when they'd danced. What game was she playing.

"I'm not Rosaline, if that's what you're wondering." she said. "I'm her sister Charlotte."

Ah, twins. That made sense.

"And what does it matter whether or not I like how Jasmine looks this evening?" he asked.

"I can tell you fancy her. Don't worry, I won't tell her or the other men she' trying to impress tonight."

Lord Huntingdon stared at Charlotte's retreating figure. Then turned his attention to his cousin, who was having a conversation with James. At least he wasn't trying to woo her, Andrew thought. But the thought was shattered as he noticed Jasmine talking to Lord Avery. 

*****

Lord Avery was pleasant company, Jasmine thought. He was polite and chivalrous and quite nice to look at. Only two flaws stood out so far. His constant embelishment of the simplest of matters and his attatchment to bachelorhood. He was at least better company than that dandy, Peter Stanhope. She'd had to fake a smile as she had been once again cursed by his presence. Lucky for her, Pierre had asked for a word with him.

Pierre and Peter, she thought. Frenchman and Englishman.

"... and that is why I can never get married so young," Lord Avery was saying.

"Fascinating," Jasmine nodded, not having listened to what he had said. Lord Borington seemed to have competition for his title.

She decided she would put her fan to good use and perhaps call over another gentleman to speak with her. As she flipped it open, the fan slipped from her fingers and hit Lord Avery, smack on the head. Horrified, Jasmine tried to assist him but he waved her off and stalked away, fuming at her clumsiness.

Well, he was definately not husband material. That left Mr Rogers and Lord Huntingdon. Jasmine sighed. Maybe she would be lucky and have her dream come true at a masquerade or something.

Just as she picked up her fan, the dinner gong sounded and everyone began to make their way to the dining area.

At least nothing could go wrong now.

"May I escort you, my lady?" the man drawled.

Jasmine looked at him in shock. Lord Torrington was smiling at her and had his arm held out for her.

This would be a long night. 

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