Lord Edmund quietly entered, his masked gaze sweeping the grand room. He surmised that everything was absolutely perfect, from the decorations that filled the air with added delight and merriment to the astounding presence of the Princess and her winged beauty. There were already many persons enjoying this much longed for event and he found that his step was more carefree than his normal routine pace. His boots were replaced with finer slippers and his chest adorned with the palest of blue cotton fabrics. Thin pants hugged his build, accentuating his solidarity. He wore a raven hued hat and a slightly faded mask perched upon his masculine nose. Indeed, if one looked very carefully, you could see several small spots where Edmund had used ink to paint anew over the worn material but that was rare scrutiny indeed during such a festive time. He wore a plain mask, nothing in itself to boast of yet he carried it with a confidence that was undeterred. He had added a few small, light feathers found from within a dove's nest, their ivory gleam highlighting the visible green of his eyes. His outfit was simple yet somehow that seemed only to add to his appeal, as if to beg onlookers to discover what lay beneath. He was clean and freshly shaven and uncharacteristically found himself admiring the graceful costumes and their hidden wearers that swarmed in unbridled amusement.

Weaving through the room almost absent-mindedly, he merely soaked in the joyous atmosphere and found himself smiling foolishly. Be it the excitement of remaining obscure or the underlying current of various temptations, the Lord forgot about his strict code and abandoned such notion. He was here to flirt and mingle, to flash his dazzling smile towards an appreciative lady and then whisk her across the floor. He wondered if any would actually recognize him as he continued to grin, whole-heartedly enjoying himself.

Lady Rebecca Ingling looked around with huge blue eyes. Everything was so beautiful, and it was hard for her to take it all in. She had thought the barge ride was amazing, but this went even beyond that.

Perhaps she wasn't as grandly dressed as she had been at the barge ride, since her brother the Earl had not bought this gown, but she was pleased with it nevertheless. Her white gown was satin and very simple. The skirt was full and wide at her feet, narrowing down to her delicate waist. Rebecca was uncertain about the bodice. It clung to her and the square neckline showed more than she had realized, but the white rose she had attached reassured her a little. Rachel had coaxed Rebecca's hair into curls, piling them atop her head and lacing them with white roses. Her white satin mask was small, just big enough to cover the area around her eyes. The purity of the gown, the simplicity of her costume, set off her natural beauty.

Rebecca moved through the crowds, trying to find someone she knew. Silly really since all were masked, but Rebecca felt too shy to approach the multitude of strangers. You, Rebecca Ingling, are a goose, she told herself, silently. No one knows you are you, why care about the strict social rules. Rebecca jumped, startled, her eyes seeking. Unsure whether she brushed the handsome man with her gown or not, she apologized anyway. "Oh, please, excuse me," Rebecca said, her voice soft and light.

Edmund wasn't sure if the ivory clad lady had unintentionally bumped against him or if he had simply imagined it. Either way, upon hearing the unexpected apology his eyes were instantly riveted to the quiet grace she so quietly bore. She was young yet carried herself well. His goofy grin dissipated into a bona fide smile, as if he had just peaked towards dawn creeping over the horizon. She seemed a breath of fresh air to the Lord, one that he felt an instinctive tug to hold dear but without any clue as to why. Perhaps it was the softness she emanated, from her light voice to the calming gown, not too fancy but yet done skillfully to accentuate her own features. Edmund had a fondness for blonde hair and it didn't escape his notice now. Of course her revealing dress caught his attention as well but gentleman that he could be, his sight averted staring directly towards her cleavage.
Edmund spun to face her fully, his muted chuckle setting off those striking eyes, so very different than her own. His were filled with clouds which thinned and gathered as fast as the current could change. Their emerald hue shadowed at the same time a glittering of stars appeared. He was difficult to read and yet wore many emotions on his sleeve. Tonight though, he attempted to erase the lines which typically gathered around his mouth by holding his welcoming smile of greeting.
"M'Lady, the only apology I fear you have need to give is to still my beating heart." Edmund brushed a stray lock of raven hair from his forehead then, bowing slightly, quickly, to show the respect this Lady was due. Rising, he extended his arm as a silent invitation for her to clasp it. He was obviously enjoying his openly flirtatious remark which wasn't usually quite his style. Standing upright once more, his baritone voice rumbled through the room's buzzing chatter to easily reach her ears. "I fear the only way to remedy such problem is to join me in a dance." He winked, leaning in towards her slightly, and lowering to a whisper," that is if the fair Lady shall agree. T'will be a pleasure indeed."

Rebecca looked up at him innocently, admiring his fine mask and startling green eyes. Her heart fluttered a little when those emerald depths and smile focused on her. Naive and trusting, his kind words charmed her completely. Never had someone said anything of the sort to her, and though her cheeks turned a little pink, pleasure mingled with the embarrassment.

Shyly, she ducked her head a little, before gazing up at him with sweet respect. All of a sudden, Rebecca felt very young but womanly too. "I would be delighted, my Lord," she told him, sincerity ringing in every word. Tentatively, Rebecca placed her hand upon his arm, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. He is rather dashing, she thought, her eyes lingering gently on his dark hair and fine form.

"My lord exaggerates," Rebecca said, though her voice held no rebuke. Instead, amusement colored her voice as well as a bit of playfulness. Her own boldness rather surprised her, accustomed as she was to following the strict rules her mother had laid out. Still, Rebecca did not mind or wish to be different. She wanted him to like her with a strange amount of intensity, wanted him to like her more than just what her people-pleasing nature required.

The tinge of pink Edmund watched briefly land across her face increased his interest in this soft-spoken woman. She was indeed a woman, lest his eyes told him so for he was rather taken with her appraising form and easy banter. Edmund racked his brain for who this Lady may be without her mask adorning her face but for the moment he knew not. Meeting her gaze, his tanned skin seemed almost too dark against her finer complexion as she accepted his invitation and he then slowly led them towards the center of the room. Dancers collaberated into one moving mass of colorful clothes and dazzling smiles, engulfing this Lord and Lady into their midst as Edmund held her steady, his arm firmly planted across her back.
"M'Lady," he began, "do not mistake sincerity for hasty compliment." His grin focused on her, his face so near yet so far. His words were meant to keep her guessing, his mannerism one of confidence with intrigue fully aimed her way. He looked nowhere else, his sight unwavering but yet gentler now as he moved with a masculine ease, having long since mastered the steps of most simpler dances. He learnt to be quick on his feet during the years of studying swordsmanship and this particular trait helped him now as he led their way together, his right hand reaching to entwine hers. He enjoyed the closeness of their bodies, the resulting warmth causing his shirt to slightly cling against his chest.
He spoke again, this time lower, his voice rolling from his lips and meant to be for her alone. "Pray tell me Sweet Lady, surely you have battled away scores of hungry suitors by now?" He laughed, the teasing tones almost musical as his brows knitted together as if contemplating the matter. "Let's see.... that poor chap over there in the corner must have been dreadfully crestfallen when you passed him by." The Lord smiled, his arm pulling her just a little bit closer. He nodded towards a young man clearly surprised over something not too far off from them.
Edmund smelled of man and outdoors but in a good way. He was fascinated by this young lady, such a pleasant mixture of girlish innocence and womanly promise.

Rebecca looked at him with confusion clear in her eyes. She did not understand his comment at all. The words were simple enough, but his meaning seemed to elude her. Did he not mean what he said then? The inner voice that tore at her self-confidence told her that she was silly to think that he could actual mean anything of the sort. Was he trying to tease her unmercifully? No, she thought, her inate trust and kindness breaking through. Perhaps he did not mean them as seriously as all that, but he was not trying to hurt me. Her inward decision reassured her, allowing her to place all of her focus on him once more.

Smiling, Rebecca enjoyed the dance, thrilling in his easy leading of her. Rarely had she ever danced with someone who had such natural grace and skill. He made it easy for her to follow him, to simply feel the pleasure of it, rather than worry about moving her feet out of the way of his. And, relunctant though she was to admit it since it went against the ladylike rules that had been so ingrained, Rebecca enjoyed being in his arms. This was a night of exceptions, and Rebecca was beginning to learn from the Court that she could be both woman and Lady.

"I am sure my Lord is mistaken, and yet I do believe that I am receiving envious looks from the Ladies who wish to be in my place," Rebecca told him impishly, trying to turn the conversation from her to him. She rather thought he would be a much more pleasing and interesting topic. Though she made no move to resist, Rebecca gasped a little when he drew her closer. Being so close to a man who was not her brother or father was strange to her, but not unpleasant. She could catch the scent of him and her roses, feel the heat of his skin through his clothing and against her hands, and Rebecca was beginning to feel rather breathless.

Hearing her surprised gasp, he loosened his grip momentarily, telling himself it was to benefit her uneasiness. Such a small sound but one that had immediate results. Edmund didn't want to cause her worry. He was a respectful man. Perhaps he had teased her too much so, her youthful innocence suddenly endearing to him. He regretted the witty remark he had quipped towards her. Edmund had only meant to say his earlier compliment was sincere and not one said simply to gain favorism with her. He wasn't always able to carry out the joking lines he wished to. Stern lines appeared around his mouth as he contemplated offering explanation.
She spoke then, her words diminishing her own self and instead focusing attention to him. He slowed their dance, his legs strong, steps well placed, enabling hers to follow suit easily. His arm reached up, his hand brushing against her forehead so lightly he barely touched her smooth skin, tracing over her gently before moving away, almost as if it were simply imagined. This was a night for boldness that was otherwise restricted but did he really just graze her face with his thumb? His voice was a shade husky. Their shared closeness was very nice and Edmund curbed his unusual behavior. Serious now, he kindly watched her, careful to keep his sight from lowering towards the warm mounds of flesh he felt against his chest. "M'dearest Lady, never mind those other courtiers. Their beauty and grace fail in comparison to your own." He held a finger to her lips, as if to hush any redirecting comment she may have in store.
He was softer now somehow, the emerald eyes deepening to a muted shade of forest green. Returning to the proper dance posture, Lord Edmund fell into step quietly then, his voice low. "Are you enjoying yourself, M'Lady?"

The loosening of his hold on her made her feel two things. First was the very slight bereftness. So close to him, it was easy to feel like they were the only two in the crowded room. Something in her urged her to draw closer, though Rebecca could not truly understand why, innocent that she was. The second was strong respect for the man who would notice her reactions and respond so swiftly and kindly. Admiration and pleasure shone on her face for the Lord who held her.

His light brush across her forehead might have gone un-noticed if not for the warmth it left behind. His compliment touched her deeply, as did his perception that she may object. Those beautiful eyes were drawing her in, enchanting her. Rebecca gazed into them, mesmerized. Without thought, she moved closer to him, just short of pressing her body against him. She did not know why she did it, nor was she full aware that she had.

Rebecca took a tiny, wavering breath as the warmth caused her cheeks to flush a pale pink. Guileless, she answered his question, "Very much, my lord. I can only hope you are enjoying yourself as much." Her voice had edged towards breathless as her eyes moved from his to his silken dark hair to his lips and focused back again warm gaze.

Edmund felt her close the gap between them. For a split second, his face bore the looks of surprised pleasure before he managed to blink away the emotion and relax once more. She was almost molded against his thicker frame and this time, Edmund wasn't withdrawing. Instead he was smiling, completely enjoying himself. He found this Lady enthralling and tried to push from his mind all of the questions that burned inside. He couldn't ask her name, not tonight, not yet but he would discover who she was in due time. He knew this, not once worried she may forever escape him. Such notion wasn't Edmund's way of thinking. His resolve deepened to arrange a proper meeting during routine court.
That voice of hers was simply magic to his ears. He wanted to laugh aloud, reveling in her grace and twirl her around but he refrained from such wild abandon. Instead, he found himself faltering a step here and there. A bit disgruntled that he was failing his previously expert steps, his mouth hardened into a firmer line, an obvious sign he noticed his mishap. When she focused her gaze towards his lips, he nearly groaned aloud. How could such a youthful woman be causing him such discomfort? Not that he would exactly call it discomfort but he was careful to avoid meeting that breathless stare she aimed at him. Lord Edmund was only a man after all and she was making it difficult for him to keep his thoughts pure. After all, he had a good ten years on her age. Merely keeping his darkened eyes above her crown, he still didn't loosen their dancing embrace. He feared she would see the desire beginning to simmer within their depths and that Edmund vowed to prevent. He was acting monstrous and he chided himself silently for losing his grip. He reminded himself that many, many eyes were watching and he knew that some at least would recognize him instantly no matter what he wore.
Clearing his throat, he chuckled lightly, reverting to the previously lighter mood to save himself from bending down and kissing her right here in front of everyone. "Ah, my dear. This is heavenly though I must beg pardon for my missteps. It seems you are rather distracting." He peered down to her then, grinning. A twinkle lit his sight, his face fully alive beneath his mask.

When he misstepped, when his lips firmed, concern entered into Rebecca's expression. Then he wouldn't meet her eyes. This was entirely above Rebecca's head. She could not even dream to guess the why, but she was hoping she had not done something that offended him. There was just something about this Lord that drew her to him, that made her feel warm and safe. The reason she did not know, but nor did she care as long as he was there. It was enough.

"My lord," she asked quietly, wondering what had captured those captivating eyes. Rebecca was half-tempted to turn and look behind her, but preferred what was before her. Indeed, that would have been bad manners anyway, even if it was some more engaging beauty.

Then he spoke again, and her sun was shinning. Rebecca beamed at him, wanting to dance wildly with joy rather than follow the conventional steps. "Please forgive me, my lord, but you are rather distracting yourself. It is fortunate you are the one leading and not me, or we may have run into the others around us."

Edmund tilted his head back and laughed merrily. He wasn't one to have women openly chasing after him, not many now anyways. There were much younger courtiers available. Edmund had been out of that circuit for too long. Plus he fervently hoped none would remember his father's shameful history.
Edmund wasn't one to fixate on his own looks though he kept himself groomed well. Over the years he had had a few nightly companions who whispered their adoration for him and gushed about his mysterious dark looks but Edmund had never paid much heed to such loose women. Loose women were not to be trusted, and every word most likely a lie. Still, he felt a certain satisfaction when this angelic Lady he danced with voiced her mutual admiration. Lord Edmund didn't answer her immediately. Instead he smiled down to her, his emotions under control as he mentally drew a picture of her face, imprinting her features so he would not forget them. She was stunning and the look she gave him made him feel protective, made him want to keep her close by, to save her from the assortment of dishonest men, promise her she would be safe with him. Edmund's smile faded as he pondered about their dance together. Was she simply a young lady enthralled by tonight's festive mood?
A slight shrug as if to ward away additional speculation and Edmund's hand rose against her back, his pressure steady. He knew the song was near it's end, the last segments delivered in perfect harmony. Leaning down, he spoke softly into her ear, his tone lightly cajoling. "That, my dear, would be a sight to see." He smiled, wanting to touch her face again but refraining from doing so. "Would my Lady care for a drink shortly?" He wasn't ready to let her go yet, didn't want the music to pause just yet but it was obviously winding down to the final chords.

She had actually been flirtatious. How strange! Shy, little Rebecca had flirted. Her mother might have keeled over if she had seen her daughter. The elder Lady had worked hard to tame the lively little girl into a quiet and meek woman. It did not matter that her mother was dead, since she had ingrained her teachings of what was right, proper, and godly into Rebecca so strongly. And how Rebecca wanted to do what was right by her beloved brother! She adored him, though she had spoken beyond formalities to him so rarely.

His laugh sent thrills of delight up her spine, warming her with its happiness. Rebecca truly wished that they were both devoid of their masks. Daringly, she hoped that she would meet him again and find out whether he enjoyed her company when the setting was less enchanting. Her heart did not have much confidence that he would, but she wished it nevertheless. It was with disappointment that she realized the song was winding down. The dance had been so lovely. Never had she been so happy for those small moments of clumsiness.

Her face lit up with his suggestion, happy to extend their meeting. "That would please me very much, my lord," Rebecca told him sincerely, though a stray cautionary thought entered into her mind. Undoubtably, there would be wine, and, to put it bluntly, she was a lightweight and knew it. That was something else her mother had only vaguely approved of in "very appropriate times." It seemed that she could never escape.

The gleam in his eyes gave proof he was glad to hear she accepted his proposal for a drink, further elongating their time together. Turning his body slightly, his arm moved against her back, his hand facing front as he once more offered his arm to her. Just seconds ago, their bodies had been pressed together, a mutual warmth enveloping but now he nearly felt chilled which was of course ludicrous. The room was filled with hundreds of courtiers, their voices all beating as one loud hum. His shirt was still slightly damp from the evening's frolics, it's palest blue color oddly standing out against his darker skintone.
Already missing their moving embrace, Edmund's thoughts circled back to his ivory dressed companion, her purity a beacon of light beckoning to him. Moving slowly through the crowds, Edmund studied the floor. His eyes searched for something as he paused in mid-step. Quickly leaning towards the bannister then, he plucked a large pink petal from its rail, twirling it round his fingers delicately. Gazing at her, the Lord's hand swept up to her face, brushing away a wayward golden lock. There was no mistaking his touch this time for he made no hurry to withdraw from her. His skin was not smooth but lined from years of hard outdoor work. Still, his touch was so very careful that the callouses seemed to fade away. He reached over to tuck the pink dash of color gently above her ear, smiling quietly as he finished. She was a rare gem, undiscovered yet by the other scores of men lurking about. Edmund hoped she would remember their time here, silently wishing her to recognize him when they met after the masquerade. And they would meet, Edmund would see to that. He would search for her, seek her out to learn more about her, those burning questions he had no right to ask on this night.
His tender look melted away, and he replaced it with the joking banter once more. "And now my Lady, your drink awaits." He nodded towards the elaborately decorated tables lining the wall, servants hovering near. He assumed she would choose white wine and made his way toward it, giving her time to object if needed.

Rebecca was slightly disappointed when they moved apart. There was nothing she could compare the dance with; it was like a dream. And now, all she wanted was to move back into his arms, this time perhaps dare to rest her head on his chest and be glad that she was so small. Rebecca was shocked at herself, but perhaps it was because something in him called to her in a way that was irresistable.

When he moved his arm around her back, she turned her shinning face up towards him. Her pale skin glowed with health, happiness, and the warmth of her partner and those around her. Against the whiteness of her dress, it seemed that much softer and more vibrant. Rebecca's heart stopped for a moment at his touch, heat spreading from where his hand lingered. As he nestled the pink rose among her curls and the white roses, she held perfectly still. The intimacy of the moment left her nearly overwhelmed. Her pale pink lips parted in an effort to thank him, but she could form no words.

Lady Rebecca prayed that she would see him again, hoping that he would seek her out. She would not have the courage or confidence to find him. The very thought of speaking to the wrong Lord about this night filled her with mortification. She pushed the thoughts aside, and gathered her voice. "Thank you," she said in a near whisper, the words loaded with meaning. There was gratitude for the dance, the flower, his accompaniment to get a drink, and something she did not understand.

Accepting a small amount of white wine, she smiled and nodded in thanks to the servant. Rebecca sipped lightly, grateful for the moment of rest. Another courtier jostled her as he passed, pushing her towards her the Lord in blue. "Oh," she gasped, trying to steady herself and keep the wine from spilling.

Too late, the distracted Edmund watched his elegant dance partner be shoved forward. Instantly his arms reached out to catch her from stumbling any further, his hands firmly holding her as his face showed only concern, brows furrowed in worry. It didn't matter that the wine glass being passed to him instead suddenly clanged upon the floor, its delicate walls shattering as it hit bottom. Sprays of the fine wine faintly struck the ankles of nearby courtiers but Edmund had eyes only for the Lady now held against him. Two servants were already making fast work on cleaning up the remnants and a few eyebrows lifted as nosy spectators stared at the enfolding scene in front of them. Still, Lord Edmund paid no notice to anyone except the enchanting young woman he gazed at so fondly. For the moment, he was lost in another place. The steady hum and buzzing activity surrounding them all faded away and his heart beat loudly against his chest. He had made the slightest oomph as she landed against him but now he felt completely toungue-tied. Never had Edmund struggled so to compose himself. His eyes swarmed with emotion, desire matched with admiration, joy traced with surprise, and beneath even those layers was a shadowed hue of something more serious. For a split second, Edmund had the urge to lift her into his arms and march her out of the ballroom but just as quick, reality swept back into his vision and he at once noticed the onlookers, their bold stares causing him to worry for her sake. Lord Edmund wasn't one for gossip but he instinctively knew how much any tainted rumor would hurt this amazing woman.
His arms settled down from her then, his breath released all at once. He was a bit shaken, not understanding why she had ignited such feeling within him. Lord Edmund didn't understand but he also didn't deny it. In the lapse of the short time they had spent with one another, she had managed to hook a part of him he wasn't used to giving. Edmund wanted to protect her, help her, hold her.
He finally found his voice, its deep baritones carrrying the first hint of inconfidence. Edmund wasn't sure if he could keep the night's game going for he so wanted to discover her true identity. "My lady.." His hand subtly brushed across her fingers. "Are you alright?" He glanced about them, daring anyone to open their mouths. His eyes hardened with the unspoken threat, their edges glinting with steel. It was indeed intimidating and seemed to work so far for the small crowd began to thin, the courtiers moving onward to other amusements.

Just as suddenly as she was jostled, Rebecca was steadied in the lord's arms. Adrenaline pumped into her system as her heart pounded with fear and something more. Her own wine glass had mercifully been grabbed from her hand by a servant just as it had started to spill. Already, she could feel drops of the spilled wine soaking into her slippers. But that didn't matter. Her embarrassment and the other courtiers faded from her world. For that moment she had been pressed against him, his eyes had consumed her, making her tremble. His heart beat hard against her ear, and she wondered why. Though she knew it to be wrong, it had felt so right to be there with him. Rebecca's blue eyes shone with this knowledge and something approaching devotion.

When his arms left her, she felt rather chilled and alone. Yet his voice soothed her. "I'm well, my lord," Rebecca told him, finding strength in the touch of his hand on hers. She smiled up at him, then looked down, slightly ashamed of herself. "I'm so sorry that I ran into you. Did I hurt you?" Her question was quiet, not because she feared gossip since she did not even consider it, but because of the vulnerability.

As his eyes hardened and focused on those around them, she stiffened. Rebecca wanted to sink into the floor, disappear. She had run into a wonderful lord and caused a glass to shatter, all in front of a circle of nobles.

Edmund almost missed hearing her voice concern over himself, having just then issed his silent dare towards the onlookers precisely as her soft words filtered through. Gone was the fierce expression as he settled his attention fully back onto her. He frowned slightly as she stiffened and he witnessed the shame she felt. No, my dear, he thought to himself, you have done no wrong. If anyone has wronged, it is I. Surely your parents would disapprove of my behavior on this eve. He watched her, contemplating his own lack of self-control he had exhibited but feeling no regret. She was unlike any other woman he met and he longed to ask her more intimate questions. What is her passion in life? Is she sweet on anyone? Hmmm, well perhaps that last notion wasn't so appealing. He smiled, vanishing such speculation as he allowed her those precious few seconds to compose herself. That brief moment in time that may seem as long as eternity but in reality, it is mere seconds which pass. This is what Lord Edmund offered her, to escape from the embarassment he read in her eyes. He didn't want her to fear being with him, not at all.
He waved away the server who hovered behind her, still holding her glass but obviously looking clueless as to what exactly he should do. Reaching for a new one, Edmund brought it towards her. He offered her a small smile of encouragement. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it dear?" His gaze held that twinkle again, their depths inviting and warm. There was no need for her to respond to his question, it only being meant to be reassuring, comforting. He held the thin-stemmed glass, handing it over towards her as he continued to speak, "Perhaps a sip of fine wine will please my lady about now?"
He would pluck a second glass for himself after she accepted hers. Edmund wasn't one to drink much, even the flavorful wine the palace supplied. Too many haunting memories were associated with drinking, and Edmund had long since vowed to never become his father.

He called me "dear," Rebecca thought, the simple word sending her sky high. No one had ever called her that before, or really any pet name. She was surprised how much it pleased her, how much it meant to her. Rebecca was only seventeen, so young and naive. With this handsome, kind young man before her who drew her mind and body so strongly, was it any wonder she was half-way in love with him already? Not that the young maiden herself realized that, at least not conciously. Still, she did know that she enjoyed being with him more than any other she had met before or after coming to Court, and Rebecca wanted to learn all about him and to please him. Other's approval had always been important to her, but the desire for his was doubly strong.

Carefully, Rebecca took the glass goblet, sipping it lightly. "Thank you once again. I seem to be saying that often tonight," she said with some humor, her smile radiant again. His encouragement, that delightful twinkle in his eyes, reassured her and helped her to relax much faster than she had ever had before after such accidents, especially very public ones.

"Not that you do not deserve it. Quite the contrary. You have been very gallant, and I--Well, you. . .You make me feel like myself." Instantly, Rebecca wished she could pluck the words out of the air and stuff them back into her head. She dropped her eyes at once, her cheeks flushing dark pink. Oh, yes, the first part was well enough, but the last! It sounded so strange! Would he think her mad? He might at the least think her improper, and that was certainly bad enough in Rebecca's mind. It was the truth, of course, but oh! Did she have to say it? Rebecca firmly trained her eyes on the floor, resisting the urge to examine his face for the reaction she dreaded. Her long, slender finger traced idly and anxiously around the rip of the glass, just one more outward sign of her inner rebukes.

Her smile was like the sun's radiant shine blossoming down onto whoever lay within it's warm path. Simply angelic and Edmund found it hard not to openly stare at her during such wonder. He nearly gulped his sip and had to breathe outwards steadily to avoid a resulting burp. He smiled in return then, unable to do much more. If he tried to look elsewhere, he feared his sight would be riveted to her bosom and that would be a dire mistake. Edmund enjoyed her immensely and though her outer beauty helped, it was not what drew him to her. That in itself was peculiar. When he had swooned a woman in the past, it had simply been due to some temporary physical attraction. He had found their mental games tiring after awhile and had always been honest that their private interludes came with no strings attached. But now Lord Edmund found himself picturing her standing alongside him, perhaps accompanying him for a stroll through the garden or sharing a sweet treat inside one of the small shops. He never once reduced her to a mere body. She was much more than that, he knew this. It was strange how one's life could be swayed so suddenly, so forcefully, within so much as an hour's time. Edmund was older than her, that was obvious. The emotion of love hadn't yet entered his mind but he knew there was something different about the pull she had on him. He didn't understand it exactly, had never been in love before and wasn't sure he knew how. Wasn't even pondering that far ahead yet, not yet. He knew he had to seek her out in public and make his interest clear. Why, he had even to discover her family name before he would learn who she was.

He smiled again but this time in fond remembrance of a bygone time when his sister had also called him gallant. Edmund remembered their childhood play together. He with his wooden sword and his much younger sister skipping after him wherever he went, pretending she was the princess locked away and he had been her knight in shining armor. He must have been about fifteen and she around five. He wasn't sure the precise number of years between them off-hand anymore but Gracie was the youngest of his siblings.
Edmund caught the lady's last words just in time to see her sudden shyness bloom. Those pinkened cheeks would remain etched into his mind for he found it simply enthralling. She was such an enchanting blend of innocence with that bolder inner self of hers escaping every so often. Edmund watched the way her fingers traced over the goblet, setting his own drink down at the table nearby. He had only taken that single swallow.
Without hardly moving, and to keep things more discreet for her sake, Edmund's fingers gently clasped around hers, helping to hold the glass as well should she startle. "M'Lady," he said quietly, "I ache to learn more of who you really are but I fear tonight such inquries are far from proper."
What absurdity really, for all that Edmund had done (which he knew was completely out of line for a first meeting), that he could not just ask her her name. Instead he stood there, half holding her hand below the table's height. Perhaps it was fate that they should have met on this night for Edmund may not have been so charming in regular attire with routine protocol to follow. Indeed, he may have instead come across a much different way.

Slowly, she regained her composure, her confidence, and with it her eyes moved up towards his, trailing over his body and innocently admiring his fine form. There was no sultriness in this action; indeed, Rebecca did not know how to be sultry at all. It did not come naturally, and neither her elder sister Constance nor her mother had taught her to tease in such a way. In watching some of the others at Court, Rebecca had found that she certainly did not want to behave in the same way those girls did. She tried not to judge and did not consider that her place at all, but what they did felt wrong, and she would not emulate them. And thus her look held all the purity of maidenhood as blue met emerald.

His hand! His hand was on hers. And his words! Rebecca was ready to tell him if he wished it, and truly she wished to know whether he would still like to spend time with her, perhaps meet again, after he knew just who she was. Her name was on the tip of her tongue. But then, she knew he was right. Rebecca's smile faded just a little as she contemplated what was right and proper as opposed to what she wanted. Solemnly, she said, "I do wish for you to know me, my lord. Perhaps that is wrong of me, but I do. Yet, I also wish to do honor by my family and be correct in my manners. I just fear that you may not be able to find me after tonight." Rebecca bit her tongue before she could blurt out: and I do so desire you to. The more lively tiny child she had been hoped dearly that he could hear the unspoken words in her manner, but the Lady did not have the audacity.

He saw her look at him, really look at him this time, and he knew it was void of seduction. He wondered, probably for the first time in his life, what her womanly conclusions were. He was a well-groomed man usually but not one to look into a mirror more than he had to. Letting her see him, Edmund listened to her speak, her voice lightly dancing around him as if it too held that same grace and naivete. He heard her struggle, the battle between one's honor and one's improper wishes one he recognized immediately. Edmund had long since given in to honor, his own self sacrifices known little but to himself and his mother.
"I have no fear of such concern. Your beauty and grace is unmatched. But..." he grinned then, knowing a way to allow her to remain true to her conscience and yet enabling her to learn more of him if she so wished,"m'lady," he nearly whispered, " T'would be an honor if you would meet me in the garden a fortnight from this eve... the rosebush...after you've had your dinner of course. If that is acceptable time for a Lady to be walking the gardens." He didn't know if she had any obligations or some rigid schedule to follow.

He almost didn't want to hear her reply for the irrational fear she would hesitate. He figured a fortnight would be enough time for her to think it through, to give her an escape even as Edmund prayed she wouldn't. He was that way. Some may call it gentlemanly, others would say foolish. He however was having difficulty thinking of anything but to concentrate on her mouth as it would form her words, her eyes as they smiled at him, and the light touch they held still. It was like he had to keep touch of her to assure himself she really existed. The night was magical and Lord Edmund had to make sure he wasn't imagining their interlude. He was certain she reciprocated his own emotions. He would swear their chemistry was obvious to anyone who casually glanced towards them but Edmund had been wrong before. If her feeling were true, she would meet him. He was sure of that.

His response was more than she had expected, almost more than Rebecca dreamed of. Joy, pure and unfiltered, spread throughout her whole body, emanating from her as if she were a candle or a torch but much stronger. It overtook her so, she could not answer for several moments, unable to find words worthy of acceptence. Rebecca reached up to brush the pink rose behind her ear, committing the place and time into her mind. There was no chance that she might forget or avoid that meeting. Nothing short of an ultimatum from her brother, who was also the Head of their family, would stop her. And that was unthinkable. Rowland would never do that, she was certain. This was perfectly proper, and an escort in the gardens in the evening was actually preferable.

Rebecca grinned up at the lord, unrestrained, and suddenly realized that she might be causing him unease in her pause while her mind got carried away. "I will meet you there, my lord," she promised him readily. Light-hearted, Rebecca teased, "And without a mask if my lord would rather." She trusted him; that much had to at least be clear. Granted, Rebecca trusted easily, but even she might hesitate at meeting a Lord alone in the evening, especially after the early warnings of a Lord Mathew. There was no such fears this time. It was him. That Lord before her who captivated her so strongly.

To Edmund, time seemed to stretch into hours as she toyed with the pink petal he had placed against her golden hair. His gut began to feel ill at ease and he feared he had misinterpreted her supposed happiness to meet again. Perhaps she was frightened after all. Lord Edmund shuffled his slippered feet as he waited anxiously.
Then, suddenly, he heard her affirmation and once more that sunny glow drew him in as a light to moth. Edmund felt the moth compared to her natural beauty and soft grace. It made him all the more want to ensure her protection, as if at any moment some lurk of danger may leap out towards her and he would have to be readied.

Unable to refrain from his own wide-spread smile, Edmund chuckled as she teased him about their masks. His eyes danced as he began planning away their future evening together. His impatience to discover her true identity seemed only to slow time's crawl even more. "Yes, m'lady, I do think the lack of masks will be to our benefit." At least, he hoped it would. Edmund was edged with a seriousness that partially clouded his own joy. It felt odd to have a feeling of nervousness as well, to worry if she would be disappointed to learn he was simply Lord Edmund and not a man with higher title. Would her family disapprove him? Who was her family? He wished he could place her but inthe midst of their thick air of attraction, Edmund couldn't think straight. He knew only she possessed a magic he was unfamiliar with and almost desperate to see more of. His outward facade however was merely one of excitement and glee traced with that part of something harder to read. Harder to understand as well, and at this moment, Edmund pushed it away. He was unable to understand what power she had snagged over him nor did he realize the effect she could so easily have on him. Perhaps had Edmund loved another previously, he would have been frightened somewhat himself. He would have realized that same power which caused such intense joy also had the ability to inflict harm, a pain that destroyed regardless of rank or name.

Lord Edmund wanted to draw out that lighter side of her. The glimpses he had caught were mesmerizing, her gazes so expressive. He pretended his mask was loose, making it seem as it the thin material would fall from his face. Laughing then, his fingers straightened the disguise. He glanced at her with a small grin, his own sight full of amusement. "Ah, dearest fair maiden, t'was nearly too late to change your mind." Of course, he referred to whether or not she really wished to identify him. Edmund leaned downward, his voice now a mocked conspiratol affair. "And if you would think the mask does me merit, then m'lady, by all means, I shall keep it perched upon my nose in order to please you." His deep tones whispered in such silly manner were indeed humorous. Lord Edmund thought it best to keep their mood jovial. Otherwise, he may just have to claim a second dance from the ivory-clad angel.

Rebecca was enjoying the moment more than she had dreamed possible. Perhaps later thoughts of worry about who he was and whether he would truly like her would intrude upon her peace and happiness, but right now this was enough. Later, alone in her rooms, she would wonder why what she considered such a wonderful, handsome and brilliant man would possibly want to meet her again. Rebecca may later be anxious about her brother's approval and what these strange feelings rising in her heart and warming her soul meant. The glory of the night, the wonder of it, and most of all, the charming Lord in front of her held off these thoughts that would creep in, in spite of her sweet innocence.

Bright blue eyes watched him curiously as he fiddled with his mask. Concern lit her face when she began to think he was having difficulties. But his grin relieved those concerns instantly, allowing her to giggle softly at his antics. Rebecca merrily retorted, "My lord does not believe that a Lady would possibly change her mind about this?" She raised a blonde eyebrow in mock disbelief. Matching his conspiratorial tone, she lowered her voice as she continued, "Ah, but, my lord, how can I possibly tell if the mask is an improvement when I do not know you without it?"

Rebecca laughed quietly and sweetly, dropping the secret manner. She was happy and did not care who knew it. Gossip seemed of little consequence just then, and Rebecca's conscience did not rebuke her for her mirthful words. Though no jewels adorned her, she seemed to sparkle with joy and admiration for the masked Lord she was conversing with.

Her giggle was music itself and Edmund inwardly beamed from such delightful sound. The idea that such merriment thrived within her slender frame was just striking to the masked Lord. He yearned to hear more of such unobscured joy and her teasing countenance bade his spirit soar.
"In due time, my lady, in due time," he laughed along with her, his gentle chiding meant only to reassure.

Edmund eyed the dance floor then, silently wondering if she would accept a second invitation. He wasn't sure if such repeated dance would be considered acceptable to her but, he concluded, he found no dishonor in asking. They had had time to settle, even toss some humorous remarks to one another. Although a part of Lord Edmund was still lit with the gumption to pluck this enchanting maiden off her feet and carry her from the room, he had also made peace with such notion for the time being. Edmund knew she would be rightfully taken aback had she been aware of the effect that even her most subtle physical motions had on him. He had regained control of himself and though he was still very attentive and his fingers traced hers, the Lord had calmed his growing air of want. She was delicate to him, like the petal nestled between those silky threads of hair, and so he had forced himself to behave moreso.

"I must ask," he said calmly, "if a second request to dance would be ill received by your ladyship?" Edmund definitely didn't want her to feel obligated nor did he want her to feel cornered by him. To ease her reply, he gently continued, "That is if my lady has replenished her thirst of course." There it was, the offered escape route. Gentlemanly or merely foolish, Lord Edmund gave her only the most polite consideration. He would rather suffer a fortnight's sleeplessness than risk scaring her away. He detected the innocent trust she had towards him, knew she was caught up in the same myriad of emotion he was. He knew her touch had nearly driven him mad when they last danced but his mouth refused to remain closed and his words spilled out anyway.

Her eyes danced at his reassurance. The thrill of anticipation crept into her heart when her mind began to dwell on their scheduled meeting. Romantic to the core, her unsullied heart could conjure up sweet fantasies that were pure and beautiful. Still, she could not help but wonder after that brief touch when she nearly fell what it would be like to be firmly held into someone's--his--arms. The thought, even as obscure as it was, brought a light flush to her cheeks, but she quickly tried to battle it down, not desiring to cause any alarm.

Rebecca's pulse fluttered at the invitation, and she sighed inwardly with appreciation with the openness of the question. He did not make her feel obliged or as if she had no choice, but rather that he found her special and would enjoy the time with her if she would consent. Affection for this Lord swelled within her.

And yet, she was not sure that it was proper. Her mother would have instantly told her no, but Rowland had once made it clear that their mother's rules did not always apply to the Court life. Rebecca thought perhaps that only acknowledged couples may dance several dances together, and still her uncertainty and the girlish yet womanly desire to be with him urged her to consider. Rebecca straightened slightly as she made her decision, rather regretting the moment that she had been silent. It would be awful if she answered, and he had reconsidered. "I have finished," Rebecca said gently, taking a step towards him. Her eyes were very soft and tender. "And I would love to dance with you again."

Edmund nearly did regret his second proposal to dance for the more he considered its implications, the worse his nervousness grew. He masked it well but the Lord fretted he had already overstepped the invisible lines of proper conduct even on such a frivolous night. Once again he chided himself for his bold, irrational behavior. Why was it that he lost all sane thought as he peered into her mystical world, the one that even now was smiling up at him, heart on sleeve. Edmund choked back an unintelligible mumble as the look she gave him sent thrills coursing down his spine. Immediately any inward trace of remorse he may have felt for risking both of their reputations by dancing again was instantly gone, replaced only by her calm gaze and the rapid beating of his heart that ensued. The world disappeared and Edmund received her single step towards him, his strong arm encircling her back as he led them away from the refreshment tables.

The music was gay, its merry tunes drawn somewhere between a slow rythmic movement and a fast-stepped dance. This time, his step was a degree quicker and matched the tempo well. The emerald smile his eyes gave her said it all. He had eyes for none else at this moment. Lord Edmund had not a care in the world right now as they swirled around the floor, his pale blue shirt and her white gown meshing into a single beacon of flowing light. He laughed as they spun about, enjoying the change of pace though it made more difficult to linger on her pressed against him. "Pray tell me, my lady, have you many siblings?" he asked it as they danced, wishing to know something of her but without delving too much into personal life.

Who would suppose that being swept away by such a dashing man into a dance would make her feel so giddy? They were suddenly twirling around the floor together, and Rebecca tried to keep step properly, though being in his arms and his general proximity was such a distraction. Oh, how she wished to lay her head against that blue fabric and perhaps hear the beating of his heart beneath. Could it be beating as fast as mine, Rebecca wondered idly. Nothing could have enticed her to look away from him that moment or make her lose her expression of elation. Rebecca was certain no emerald on earth could compare to those eyes.

Realization came with his question. She laughed freely again. Perhaps if she could not reveal to him her identity, he could guess. Or if nothing else, Rebecca did want to begin to know this man and to have him know and understand her. His gallantry and good looks was enough to hold her for a time, but it would be his personality that kept her. Of course, in the glory of the new experience and these new emotions, Rebecca could not realize this.

Almost impishly, she answered his question, "I have two, my lord. They are both in Court, and here I do believe though I have not recognized them if I have seen them." Rebecca had no hope of guessing who he was, as sheltered and shy as she was. Unfamiliar were many of the names she heard, and few were held her memories or garnered much attention. Rebecca preferred not to be involved in intrigues or gossip. Still, he was the focus here, so she asked anyway, "And you, my lord?"

That musical sound fell upon his ears again, her laugh increasing the thump of his chest. It drew him in and he laughed as well, unable to deny the heartwarming tug she so unknowingly bestowed upon him. He was glad to hear she had siblings though he glanced around the room as if looking for them. Silly really, for he had no clue what to look for but nonetheless, his gaze quickly scanned nearby courtiers. Was there one who aimed a long stare their way? Edmund saw nothing and his attention easily refocused on his dance partner then. She was a breath of fresh air, a purity so captivating that he was suddenly glad for the dance's quicker pace. It was more intense in terms of properly placing one's feet and Edmund tried valiantly to keep correct timing in his movements. He wasn't as adept at this one as he had been with the previous but he managed to spare them from but a few infrequent mistakes.

Edmund knew his own siblings well, probably uncommon for most other Lords but due to his family's past situation Edmund had grown close to his brother and sisters. He enjoyed talking about them and it clearly showed. His voice was happy, relaxed, and he grinned as he answered; "I have one brother and two sisters... I am the eldest though my brother is but a short year younger." His mouth had the faintest frown line as he spoke of his brother, as if there was something of late that nagged at him. Edmund looked towards the Lady he held, continuing to speak. This time his tone was proud, completely warm, and it was obvious he had high regard to the person spoken of. "My youngest sister would love this masquerade. She is quite the dancer. I tell her it is due to having learned from an early age to sidestep my wooden sword." He laughed, his joke only partial exaggeration. It was true that Gracie and he had had their fair share of sibling quarrels but in all honesty, Edmund adored her back then and still to this day. She was and is the dark beauty of the Duncan family.

Edmund stretched out his arm then, holding her with his hand and giving way to a half spin before bringing her around almost face to face into him. His pulse quickened at the unintentional result and he peered into her eyes. His smile faded from remembered childhood joy to one of limitless affection and surprise. Edmund was struggling to remain completely in proper manner for all he wished to do was have her rest her head against him and breathe in the sweet golden locks upon her head.

Amusement filled her eyes as he glanced around. No, neither of them would probably see Constance or Rowland, but the idea of it made her smile. Rebecca wondered which masks they had chosen and wished she had spoken to them about it before the masquerade. The pair of them just seemed so busy. Because she loved them, Rebecca had no wish to plague them, at least she hadn't had that urge in many years anyway. What would they say if they saw her? Would they be surprised as Rebecca herself had been at the low-cut gown? It had looked perfectly fine in the shop. Would Constance admire this gallant man as much as she did? Who could not?

Rebecca enjoyed hearing about his siblings. Though a flicker of concern for him was in her eyes at the slight frown, she glowed with happiness for his sake when he spoke of his sister. It was clear just how much he cared for the girl. That warmed her and filled her with tenderness. Family was important to her, not so much for honor's sake as for how much she loved them. It was good to know that his family was as dear to him. "You love her very much," Rebecca murmured. It was not a question, and she did not know why to say it, but the sweet-tempered tone in her voice made it clear just how she felt hearing his words.

"Did you plague her as a child," Rebecca asked playfully, referring to the wooden sword. Her teasing was put to rest as she spun. His presence was enough to slightly disorient so she did not come back to him with all the grace she wish, the momentum bringing her close until her chest brushed against his. She gasped, surprised at the heat that flooded her from the simple touched. Breathless, Rebecca looked up, knowing she'd rather be there with him than anywhere else.

Her eyes held the same mixture of shock as his, a certain dizzying effect that lined the air between them. Edmund felt her closeness, glanced over her as she stood so near him. The soft skin of her seared into his flesh, giving cause for the sudden darkening within his eyes. It was not a frightening effect but more of one that silently spoke of need and traced with desire. Lord Edmund valued family morals, bore witness to the damaging result possible when a member threw such devotion to the wind. He knew he wanted children of his own, had known for years that someday he would enjoy fatherhood yet the startling realization that he may wish for such much sooner than he imagined nearly knocked the breath from his body. He missed the comfort of growing up and bearing witness to the tender looks wedded lovers secretly aimed towards one another, was foreign to the idea of the security such solid marriage could offer. His breath sucked in rapidly as she bumped against him, his face distorted into one of pleasure, haunted memory, and complete enthrallment.

If such contact continued, Edmund knew he would soon lose sync with the music's lively notes. The attraction felt was powerful, her allure tantalizing in more ways than mere physicality. The lord shuffled his feet to regain rightful step, his arm neither releasing her nor restricting her. He was simply there, in blissful lack of self awareness and his words rolled easily from his mouth. "Dear Lady, I fear circumspect refused to tag either a nuisance. She and I enjoyed the playful banter for t'was a relief from daily life at that time." His first real hint that not all was as appealing in his world as she imagined. Lord Edmund's passionate declaration left his gaze shadowed but always that scattered gleam stubbornly held on. He hadn't lowered his voice, not while he was with her. She made him feel wanted, trusted, and Edmund responded to such affection without fullly realizing why.

Typically, Edmund spoke little of his family. Perhaps it was the cover of the night or her magnetic charisma that enabled the masked lord to speak so freely, his tones void of any remorse. He shrugged off the confession of past grievance, his manner detached from the remembered pain. He wished to learn more of her, not dwell on the childhood life dealt him. His smile was in place as he asked her more; "And you, m'lady? How did you spend your days as a child?" He imagined she had been drilled with the art of calligraphy or perhaps a certain musical instrument as such was typical for a future Lady to learn. Not totally unlike Gracie, who had been educated patiently by their mother.During those times, Edmund had been left to his own, often found exploring the surrounding lands or practicing swordsplay with his brother.

The look in his eyes was unknown to her, but it called to the banked fire within her, stirring the flames. They caught her up in a storm of feelings she could not comprehend. Rebecca knew so little of the relations between men and women. Her mother had talked to her very little about such things, with the exception of the "do not's" which were usually not explained very well. She had no way of knowing if Constance had been taught any more than she and had never had the opportunity or really the cause to ask. Her innocence was not an act. Rebecca could only follow the rules she had been taught, her instincts, and he who would chose to lead her. Maidenly dreams of longing sometimes filled her nights, but they were as pure as her dress while she waited for her husband's lead.

A husband. That was why she had been brought to Court, she knew. It had seemed so heartless, so mercenary. Rebecca had always hoped that she would find love in the man she would marry, though she had always known she would be expected to wed for the good of her family and for her own welfare. It was just the way things were. Girls could scream and rage, but in the end, fathers and brothers would have their way. Rebecca would never presume that this amazing Lord would want her at all, especially since she had only met him once. Still, his presence alone made her think more about husbands and wives, men and women. She wanted to learn to be a lover, wife, and mother.

When he spoke, Rebecca opened her mouth just a little, distress for him becoming a dominant emotion. Her blue eyes darkened a shade with it as his own became shadowed. Her hand nearly raised to his cheek in silent comfort, but she stopped the urge just in time. Though she wished to ease any suffering and show sympathy, Rebecca did not wish to be forward or embarrass him in front of the other courtiers. Relief from daily life, she wondered silently, but she would never push him about something like that. Her mother had been strict, and it may have been somewhat lonely after her siblings left, but her childhood had not been so bad that she sought relief.

Her smile was shaky in the aftermath of these thoughts, but it was summoned nevertheless when his returned. Rebecca did not mind that the conversation turned back to her if it made him smile again, even if she did find herself uninteresting and feared that he might as well. Her trust in him had her confess, "When I was very, very young, my lord, I would sneak out of our manor to watch swordplay. My mother soon put a stop to that though, and began trying to fashion me into a proper young lady. She did not approve of teasing much either, but then I thought Ro-" Rebecca stopped herself, having nearly given it all away. "-my brother was too grand to tease very often."

OOC: I apologize for the delay. I took the day off to go swimming.
IC:

Picturing her sneaking about, Edmund realized that most likely her mother had quickly schooled such free spirit for he just couldn't imagine her behaving such way now. She was so innnocent, so bashfully genuine that the lord wondered how her mother had ever managed to chastise her lovely daughter. He still detected the hint of something more, that shimmering light of undefined pull that almost begged him to discover it without so much as any outward sign. She could dazzle without ever consciously realizing it. All the more it made Edmund feel protective of her, to shield her from any hurt, any disappointment.

If he had been settled at court longer than his recent arrival, perhaps Edmund would have recognized the beginning name of her brother. He obviously conducted himself as one with due respect and the admiration gleaming forth from her gaze confirmed her adoration for the man. In fact, if Edmund had known who her brother actually was, he would have been taken aback. Never had he thought she was sibling to a high-ranking earl though had he been thinking clearly, the clues had been present all along. Her grace, her mannerism, even the angelic innocence... these could all be linked to one with elite upbringing.

Instead Edmund had heard her reminisce and smiled in return. He was captivated by her and yearned to know more. So her mother had shielded her daughter from the general mayhem he and his own siblings had took part in. It had been their way of breathing, their way of escaping reality when reality became too hard to face. Often they teased and cajoled one another, mock wrestles and good hearted humor. Least that was how Edmund and Gracie were. Together they had never really grown up but if Grace could see how serious her brother had become at times, she would barely recognize the man he was today.

"Ah, your mother did a fine job. Is my lady as happy as she must be?" He wasn't sure what brought on the question. The words had begun in humor but somehow his tone had changed to earnest inquirement. Edmund remembered how much his sisters had initially disliked their lessons, neither wishing to lose that untamed side just yet. He suddenly wondered what this ivory-clad Lady had given up. Edmund had many new thoughts running rampant in his mind and it seemed this enchanting young woman was the root of them all.

OOC: no worries. Been a little busy myself. :D

IC:
"I'm happy with you." The words were simple, truthfull. Rebecca's response wasn't thought out at all. If it had been, perhaps she would not have said something so blunt and revealing. An artful girl may have said those words to worm her way into someone's affections, but Rebecca's tone instantly would lay that thought to rest. She was almost surprised herself that she had said it, and her words rang with sincerity.

His full meaning caught up with her, rebuking her for her thoughtless and blurted response. Sometimes Rebecca wondered that herself. Was she really happy? Oh yes, most of the the time she was perfectly content. Contentment didn't always equal happiness however. What would life have been like if her mother hadn't reined her in when she did? Rebecca's good imagination failed her here, but she knew that she wouldn't be who she was now. Perhaps Rebecca would be a little wilder, a little less conformed to society's standards. Perhaps she would be less shy and quiet, less able to enjoy a quiet hour's embroidery. But then, that person, the lively child who would have been a passionate woman was still locked in her heart. Rebecca could feel the stirrings of fire in her blood with this Lord, and knew that her proper shell could never permit this. He drew out the fire that her mother had coated with ice and silk.

Her voice solemn with much thought, Rebecca murmured, "I am happy, much of the time. I like to please people and to try and make them happy. I may not have been as able without my lessons. I-I am finding that I rather like me. Does that sound foolish?" The last was in sudden concern, worrying that she may sound full of herself or arrogant. Sometimes Rebecca thought that she could never get her true intentions across, and the way he was muddling her mind did not help. Not that she minded his muddling of her mind. It was so very pleasant.

Her answer was so very simple, its sincerity striking against his chest as if her hand had physically pummeled into him. Edmund's smiling eyes said it all, their depths drawing in such unpretensed compliment. His arm was sturdy against her back, his breath even now as he slowed their pace. The dance was beginning to wind down, its previous step becoming a tantalizing swirl of nostalgia.
Lord Edmund watched her as she spoke again, her mouth so finely sculpted. Once more, her words seemed to wake him, as if a part of him had long lain dormant. She was selfless, her sacrificing nature one that beckoned to his own needy soul. Edmund was indeed needy even though he himself would fiercely deny such accusation. Beneath his confidence remained a crumbled spirit of long grievance, one that thrived in this lady's sweetness. She comforted him with her grace, pleasured him with her attentiveness.
Now his hand was brought again to her face as the music faded, his fingers curled around her soft cheek as he whispered. His voice was hushed, his gaze tender, almost beseeching. "M'Lady, no one but a fool himself would dare label you such." He let his hand drop away, standing there beside her, all dance moves ceased. The song was over. The masquerade was complete. He had danced with no one else.
Lord Edmund stepped backward, a final bow given. He was all gentleman though his sight still darkened with swirling emotion. "I regret this night has come to an end." Not looking anywhere else, he continued, "A fortnight, my lady, and I shall wait alongside the rosebush." He wanted to see her now, longed to know her name but Edmund also was experienced enough to realize her young innocence and still wished for her to come to terms with her own feeling. Too much, too soon was not a stable start and Edmund wanted only a secure beginning with his fancied angel.

The dance was slowing. The night was ending. It made her a little sad on account of this having been her most joyful night since she had come to Court. Rebecca leaned into his touch a little, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure at the contact. Her pulse quickened even before she opened her eyes and saw the touching warmth in his. Rebecca couldn't move, willingly captured by him in this small span of time. And he does not think I am a fool, her mind sung. If right then he had asked her to do anything, say anything, go anywhere, she would have obeyed without question.

And it was over. He moved away, and Rebecca felt very alone. With his bow, she curtsied gracefully, sinking low. She had to swallow hard before she could answer and get control of her heart, mind and body. But then, perhaps her heart had already been lost to her that night. "I will be there, my lord. I promise," Rebecca told him softly, pledging herself. A fortnight suddenly seemed like a terribly long time, but she would be faithful and come to him when he asked. In the meantime, Rebecca knew she could watch the others she did not know and wonder.

Gathering herself together, Rebecca curtsied again, this time in farewell. "'Til then, my lord," she told him, a definite tremble in her voice. Uncertain why it was there, Rebecca could only guess that it was because she went against her own wishes as she turned and began to move through the crowd. She would have rather stayed with him. Only when she was far from where Rebecca left him did she remove her mask, revealing herself to the others who were laughing and paying no attention to her that she was in fact Lady Rebecca Ingling. Her eyes lingered on the exuberant crowd one last time before she sought the refuge of her rooms.

Lord Edmund watched her duck away, her eyes imprinting forever into his mind. He nearly wished to stop her, to rip his mask from his face and forget all about waiting a fortnight. His mouth opened as if he would speak again but his hand merely rose in farewell, his lips closing firmly. Her shaky voice would haunt his dreams in the nights to come. She was a delicate flower, a rare gem... and he had simply let her go without so much as a first name. Feeling a fool, Edmund's gaze darkened. He turned heel and walked from the dance room, unaware of anyone else. He silently vowed to discover her true identity and pursue her with honorable intention. She was much too special to be given anything less. She was a Lady, and Edmund the smitten lord. It wasn't until after he walked outside into the cool air that he plucked the mask from his nose, hastily tossing it into a pocket. Lord Edmund strode into the night, his eyes lit with newfound happiness.

[ooc: Sent you a pm in regards to their follow-up meeting.]