"Upon my words, Isabella! They mean nothing to me." he enclosed the distance between them by covering her in his arms. At her ear, his lips almost touched her skin, he whispered, "And now, Isabella, please tell me, who is your choice?"
***
Isabella...
It was one of the best years of many ladies and gentlemen when love was about to be born and there were still many years to come for love. Music and laughter fell in harmony unexpectedly. The fabric of ladies' gowns bloomed like a fresh flower as they twirled and circled. Isabella was captivated by the moment. It was busy but somehow glorious. If only she would not be bothered or teased! She simply wanted to sit in a corner and studied people and imagined a story for them.
Besides romance and gossip, people seemed to be excited over a performer of the night - a pianist who used to be a prodigy. He turned to 20 this year and should no longer be considered as a child prodigy.
"Why, I believe Charles is invited to play in the Austrian Royal Orchestra in Vienna. How marvellous!" A shrill female voice commented.
"I heard that he has a rather dashing countenance. Not only the skills, but also the skin!" Another shrill female voice echoed.
"Ah! How naughty! But consider that a garnish, I don't suppose why it can't be a strength of his own." Another shrill female voice joined.
"It's easier to look at his face than to look at his fingers on the keyboard," another female snorted and laughed, believing that she behaved as ladylike as possible when she was being the least alike.
Isabella had heard enough, she walked to her corner and started her observation. Elizabeth had been asked for a dance from many favourable bachelors since she stepped into the ballroom. Isabella only hoped her sister would be happy. She could tell that she was happy now, dancing and having a time of her own.
Isabella wished that nobody would see her, in a corner, observing alone in a mindful quietude. When all of a sudden, a man caught her attention. She believed he was new to the ball for she had never seen him before. Simply by unfamiliarity alone couldn't have caught her attention, actually, what drew Isabella's attention to him was his smile.
The smile was not caused attractive by his handsome features but a sense of genuineness and truthfulness.
She was looking at him in the corner, studying his face and eyes. She was imagining stories for him in her mind. Perhaps, he was a long lost prince from the underworld kingdom. He was meant to take on mortal trials to claim the immortal throne. Or, perhaps, he was a vampire who didn't want to obey the cruel heartless rule and, thus, was banished from the community. Now, living all alone, yet, finding moral freedom in a civilised community.
The first dance was finished but her gaze remained fixed on him. When he parted with Lady Marie, he noticed her gaze, as if being pinched for a rather uncomfortable long duration and he had to do something about it. He walked to Isabella and such a sudden unexpected action gave her a panic and she immediately pulled her gaze away and stared at her empty hands.
"Could I have the honour to know the name of the lady who's been giving me a subtle nervousness, consciously aware that I become an object of curiosity in her gaze for a rather long time?"
Isabella took a deep breath and moved her gaze from the floor back to his face. She took a few steps backwards because she was a bit shocked by his sudden invasion to her calm and peaceful corner. He thought that she was going to stumble herself so he reached her hands and, at that touch, she felt her soul immediately run deep in her stomach and shivered but peeked behind timidly.
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"Isabella," she commented rashly and took her hands away from him.
"May I have the honour to dance with Miss Isabella?" He smiled.
"I....I," she wanted to reject his offer until she caught her mother's gaze. That was a gaze of pride and surprise. It was the gaze of a mother who had already acknowledged her daughter as a hopeless case was proved wrong and all of a sudden she saw hope in her baby girl and she started looking at her with a different glance.
She didn't want that gaze to fade too quickly from her mother so, awkwardly and carefully, she said, "I very much would like to oblige but I must confess that I am not at all a good dancer."
He laughed gently and commented, "Don't worry, Miss Isabella, I am not going to judge you as if it is not a social event but a competition."
The music began and it was from her favourite collection - Water Music from Handel. He gave her his hand. She curtseyed, awkwardly, and took his hand.
He held her waist and such an intimate act gave another wave of shiver down her spine. She thought dancing was merely a social event but she never realised that it would also involve a tingly feeling within her, besides her tiring feet.
"What are you doing standing in that corner if it's not too private to ask?"
She looked at the man and replied, "I was trying not to be seen."
"Oh, why?"
"Because I didn't want to embarrass myself. I believe I'm a quirk and I only want to hide in my own room and read. Mama forced me to come. I've been hiding in that corner, that was my corner, for the past two years. There, I read and looked at people. I liked to make them a story, each of them, in my head when I became too tired to read. I recognise everyone here but I've never seen you." It was until she finished her reply that she realised she'd been talking too much.
"I had to finish my study in Oxford. I buried myself with work and research for my graduation paper the last two years." The smile never escaped his face.
They made a turn and she got more comfortable in his arms dancing.
"What is your study, may I ask?"
"Law. A law student who embraces the subject, not for himself but for his family legacy. I would like to study literature or philosophy if I could choose. But life didn't depend on it, of course, papa would tell me that."
He looked at her and learnt that she was actually enjoying his speech, then he continued, "After hearing it, I asked him what life depended on. Money and power were his answer."
She felt sympathy for him and her brows knitted together.
"But life does depend on literature and philosophy," she commented indignantly, "To be a lawyer or a doctor or to receive an abundant inheritance or to be a general or anything, it embedded an authority and economic allure, however, while we may need money to live, we don't live for money. We live for goodness and beauty, we live for stories and poetry. We think and we feel. How cold that will be if the world is consumed with only money but no art and stories!"
"It's very true, Miss Isabella." He smiled and it was not a mere polite smile. It was a smile someone made unintentionally when that someone heard love as birds chirping in the air and his heart made an attempt to move closer to another heart.
