Chapter Twelve – The One
Could this be she? Tristan wondered as the pulse in his neck hammered as though it wished to jump across the room and to her side. Of course, it was a desire Tristan could understand only too well, and he pondered what it was that kept him rooted to the spot. Did he fear she would reject him?
In the past, it had been rarely the case that a woman had outright rejected him. Often, the spark he had felt upon laying eyes on a woman had failed to ignite and soon died as he discovered her humour did not match his or her idea of a sparkling conversation left him feeling bored.
More than anything, he wished for a wife who would understand him to the root of his being, who would know what he thought merely by looking at him, who would love him no matter what misfortune befell him next.
Could she be the one?
Although steeling himself for yet another disappointment, Tristan knew that he needed to speak to her and find out the truth or would he forever be left wondering what could have been.
Finding his friend still completely absorbed in the sight of Lady Madeline as she went from partner to partner, dance after dance, Tristan drew in a deep breath and began to make his way across the room.
As she saw him coming and realised his intention, her eyes widened slightly as though she never would have expected him to seek her out. However, she quickly regained her composure, and her eyes did not stray from his until he suddenly stood before her.
Indeed, she was beautiful! Breathtakingly so! Her eyes shone in crystal clear blue, open and honest, hiding nothing untoward behind their sparkling surface, and her smile struck him as neither coy nor bashful, but spoke of true delight.
Instantly, his heart warmed, and a slight tremble travelled up and down his arms as the spark grew in intensity.
“Will you not say anything, my lord?” she asked, eyeing him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, her kind smile slightly teasing. “I do believe conversation to be a suitable way to further one’s acquaintance. Would you not agree?”
Momentarily stunned, Tristan suddenly realised that he had been staring, and an embarrassed heat rose to his cheeks. Had he just now ruined any chance for a potential future? Did she think him a half-wit?
“I apologise, my lady,” he chuckled as he rediscovered his voice. “I suppose I was stunned into speechlessness by your beauty.”
The corners of her mouth drew up, and then she was laughing. “My beauty, you say,” she mused, her eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky…mischievous stars. “Or was it not rather my frank perusal of your person?”
Tristan’s mouth dropped slightly open.
“However, you cannot fault me for that,” she continued, her lips twitching with amusement, “for you yourself took account of my appearance as well.” Again, the heat returned to Tristan’s cheeks. “May I ask what you’ve discovered? I admit I find it fascinating to learn what strangers read in my face.”
Holding her gaze for the better part of a minute, Tristan realised that she spoke in earnest. “Are you asking me to describe your character?” She nodded. “Merely by looking at your face?”
“It is a challenge we meet with every day,” she said, “although we are rarely aware of it. I myself often find it tiring to speak to people who claim to be of a certain character but then prove to be of another completely.”
As his eyes slid over her face, noting the way her gaze held his without flinching, without even once dropping to the floor, Tristan smiled. “You’re brave,” he whispered, suddenly entranced by the idea of reading her. “You don’t cower or hide. You meet whatever comes with a raised chin.”
A touch of red came to her cheeks, but she held his gaze. “I try,” she whispered, and yet, there was no bashfulness in her tone, and Tristan realised that she knew who she was. Could he say the same thing about himself?
“You enjoy company and honest conversation,” he continued. “However, you’d rather be alone than in the presence of someone who paints himself in a wrong light, and still, you don’t hold a grudge, but easily forgive and grant another chance.”
A touch of surprise came to her eyes. “Are you guessing now, my lord? For I cannot believe that I’ve revealed enough about myself for you to know that.”
“But it is true, is it not?” Tristan asked, wondering how he had known. Had his soul somehow recognised hers? Was she truly the one?
Smiling, she nodded. “What else can you tell me?”
Noticing the slight tapping of her foot, Tristan glanced at the dance floor. “I believe you would like to dance, and although it is fairly obvious that you can barely contain yourself, you are aware of the restrictions placed on young ladies these days and are not willing to bend your will to them,” the expression on her face darkened, “at least for the time being.”
A charming smile lit up her face, and she laughed. It was a truly intoxicating sound, and Tristan hoped that he would hear it every day for the rest of his life. Holding out his hand to her, he smiled. “May I have this dance?”
Eyeing his hand, she bit her lower lip and rolled her eyes in amusement. “Although I admit that I would love to tell you that you’re wrong, no one wants to be that transparent. And I honestly had no idea that I was−I will not deny myself the experience of this night.” Slipping her hand into his, she followed him onto the dance floor, and they stood up for a cotillion.
“Is it my turn now?” she asked, her eyes occasionally slipping from his as she glanced at her feet and then to the other couples.
“If you wish.” For a moment, he watched her, and then when the dance brought them together again, he whispered, “Although you love to dance, you seem rather inexperienced.”
Meeting his eyes, she pressed her lips together in concentration, and for a moment, he thought to see a hint of…fear. Fear of what?
“Indeed, you’re observant, my lord,” she laughed in the next moment. “I’ve not had many opportunities to practise in the recent past. A shortcoming I hope not to continue in the future.” For a few more moments, she seemed to concentrate solely on the steps of the dance before her eyes met his again. “Well, about your character then. Let me see.” As her gaze travelled over his face, her eyes narrowed slightly.
Tristan had never felt so vulnerable in his life. It was one thing to have people judge him without knowing what they thought, but to merely suspect their disapproval of him, maybe read it on their faces. However, it was quite another to have a ravishing, young lady inform him outright in ways he was found wanting.
“You have a kind soul.”
Instantly, his head jerked up, not having expected that. Anything, but not that!
Seeing his surprise, she smiled, nodding her head. “Although you, too, enjoy to dance, you’ve stayed by your friend’s side for a great part of the evening. He seems rather uncomfortable here−were you the one to persuade him to come? However be as it may, your presence appears to have relaxed him a little.”
Stunned, Tristan stared at her. Indeed, she was right. It was quite unsettling to be that transparent to another!
“You know what ladies generally like to hear,” she continued, her light blue eyes holding him transfixed, “and yet, you seem to be looking for something different, something honest…and pure. You loathe pretences which promise something they can never provide.” She sighed, “And yet, a part of you fears that you will never find it.”
Tristan swallowed, almost forgetting to turn in time to the music. How could she know all this? They had barely exchanged more than a few words, and yet, she seemed to know him, seemed to know that…
Was she truly the one?
With all his heart, Tristan hoped that it was so because never in his life had he wanted anything or anyone more than her.
The music ended. Their feet stilled.
From behind his left shoulder, someone stepped up to them. “May I have this dance?”
Jolted out of his trance, Tristan turned his head to find none other than Oliver Cornell, Earl of Cullingwood, standing beside him, a charming smile on his face as he looked at…
Tristan shook his head. He didn’t even know her name.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, returning Lord Cullingwood’s smile. Then her eyes returned to Tristan, and he thought to see a touch of regret as she placed her hand into Cullingwood’s…a bit reluctantly, Tristan thought if his instincts didn’t deceive him.
Equally reluctantly, he stepped back and allowed his competitor to stand up with her for a country dance. Thank goodness, it was only a country dance! If it had been a waltz, Tristan might have done something scandalous, to keep her out of Cullingwood’s arms. After all, the man was a known rake!
Returning to Derek’s side, Tristan stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes narrowed and his shoulders tense. He knew he was overreacting. He knew he ought to relax. He knew it was only a dance. And yet, he could not, for in is heart, she was already his.
Never in his life had he reacted to a woman quite like this, and it had only been a few moments that they’d shared together.
A frown creased his forehead. Did that speak in their favour or not? Had it been an instant connection that promised a lifetime of married bliss? Or was it possible that the small glimpse he had caught of her spoke merely of a momentary attraction: one that could easily dissipate over time?
Cursing his doubts, Tristan followed their every movement from across the room as Lord Cullingwood guided them up and down the dance floor.
“Yours seems to be an unusual reaction for such a short acquaintance,” his friend observed, his eyes shifting from the dancing couples to look at Tristan’s face more closely. “I am not mistaken, am I? You’ve never met this woman before.”
“I have not,” Tristan forced out through gritted teeth, not at least in the mood to answer for his irrational behaviour. “I admit I am surprised you even noticed,” he said, trying to change the topic, “for your eyes seemed to be permanently fixed on Lady Madeline.”
A displeased grumble escaped Derek’s throat, and he once more turned his gaze back to the dance floor, dropping the subject.
Ignoring the sense of guilt that invaded his heart, Tristan, too, continued to watch the woman he longed for.
To his great relief, she appeared less engrossed with her current dance partner than she had been before…if Tristan could trust his own judgement considering that he was rather biased on the subject.
Every now and then, she would smile and nod or say something in response to Cullingwood’s enquiry, but whenever the steps of the dance separated them, her eyes would travel around the room, a hint of apprehension in them. Was she looking for him? Tristan wondered. However, a moment later, their eyes met, and his heartbeat quickened instantly when a bewitching smile lifted the corners of her lips in delight. Feeling himself respond, Tristan frowned when her gaze left his once more, only to continue to wander around the large room, her eyes slightly narrowed.
Was something wrong?
Seeing Lord Cullingwood’s attempts to hold her attention, Tristan could not help but be concerned that they might be successful. Without thinking, he turned to his friend. “Ask her to dance.”
With a frown drawing down his brows, Derek turned to look at him, confusion clouding his dark eyes. “Who?” he asked carefully, and Tristan saw him glance at Lady Madeline.
“Not her,” he answered, stepping closer, then jerking his chin toward the dance floor as Lord Cullingwood and…
Tristan cursed. He needed to find out her name! “Her,” he hissed, gesturing at the woman who had so effectively stolen his heart with her frank words and honest smiles in such a short time.
“Why?”
“So that Cullingwood will leave her alone,” Tristan hissed, seeing growing determination in the earl’s eyes to win his dance partner’s favour. A rake probably took it as a personal insult not to have every beautiful lady swoon at his feet!
“Then you dance with her,” Derek huffed, the tension in his shoulders growing more rigid.
“I can’t,” Tristan grumbled, fearing that the end of the dance would come too soon and she would slip out of his grasp on Cullingwood’s arm. “I already danced with her once, and the evening is barely half over. I cannot lay claim to her for the rest of the night or people will talk.”
“So?”
“So, I need you to intercept her before Cullingwood can lead her off the dance floor.” Gritting his teeth, he found it increasingly hard to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. “Besides, it would be a good opportunity for you to mingle. Since you have no interest in her, this should not be too difficult for you.”
Again, Derek turned to look at him, and Tristan thought to glimpse the ghost of a smirk out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you think I’m not interested in her?”
Instantly, Tristan’s head jerked around and his hands balled into fists.
Derek chuckled, “She truly made an impression on you, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she did,” Tristan snapped, his eyes widening in impatience. “Now, go.”
“Fine,” Derek grumbled and stalked off just as the last notes danced through the air.
Tristan held his breath as his eyes shifted back and forth between his friend and Cullingwood, who seemed rather displeased at the interruption. However, Derek’s silent authority was no match for him, and Cullingwood reluctantly took his leave.
Gulping down a few mouthfuls of air, Tristan relaxed, instant relief washing over him like a cold rain shower on a hot day. He had known this woman barely an hour, and she was already the death of him!
If she wasn’t the one, he didn’t know who ever could be!
With the danger of Cullingwood removed, Tristan watched the dancing couple with less anxiety in his heart. Unlike before, now both partners seemed fairly disinterested in one another as not only the woman whose name still eluded him seemed unable to keep her eyes from wandering around the room, but his friend found it equally impossible to keep his gaze off Lady Madeline. Why did he not just ask her to dance? Tristan wondered before his thoughts were occupied by the woman he cared for once more.
Tension rested in her shoulders, and he thought to detect a hint of apprehension on her face as her blue eyes shifted around the large room, here and there, coming to rest on someone or something for a moment or two before moving on. What was she doing? Searching for someone? Had she been this distracted when he had danced with her? Tristan wondered. Was it truly possible that she had and he hadn’t noticed?
No! He shook his head in determination, refusing to believe that it had all been in his head.
There had been something in her gaze, in the way she had smiled at him that had spoken of…of what exactly? Interest? Curiosity? Affection? Could it have been affection after only a few minutes of conversation?
Cursing his doubts, Tristan continued to watch her, vowing to discover her identity and find out if he had deceived himself or if she were truly the one.
He could only hope he had not been wrong!