FIRST SEASON
Gloria Gay
The night wore on and Fantine was often at the center of groups of young men who had written their names in her dance card. But there was a tenseness in her and she looked toward the door often. And then, on about the twentieth time she had looked, there he was. A tremor went through her as Ashcom's eyes scanned the room and then came to rest on hers. She turned away and gave her attention to Sir Jared, feeling all the time Ashcom's eyes piercing her back. And then he was suddenly before her and Sir Jared had somehow faded into the background.
"I trust you have the next waltz free, Miss Delmere," he said, unbelievably. How could he want to dance with her after what happened between them? And how could he assume she would dance with him?
"I--" Fantine glanced quickly at her card and stammered in confusion, "I--I--have the next dance engaged to Mr. Holbert--"
But that was all she was allowed to say, for Lord Ashcom, taking her hand in a firm grip, led her toward the dance floor as the first strands of the waltz filled the air. "I am certain Holbert will understand," he merely said, dismissing Holbert with a wave of his hand, as the young man who had waited all night for his dance approached.
"That is the most--" Fantine began, only to be firmly interrupted by Ashcom's cutting voice.
"Ill-bred, Miss Delmere? Just so. But then it is merely in character, wouldn't you say? Or had you expected me to have changed overnight from a--what were your exact words? Oh, yes. A "moneyed title," cold, arrogant, and thoughtless--"
"Insensitive," Fantine corrected before she could stop herself.
"Thank you. Your memory is prodigious, of course, which makes me wonder if you had prepared those words for me beforehand, or perhaps they have been your unchangeable assessment of my character since Evergreen."
Fantine's voice now left her, as she stared aghast at him. They were stiff in each other's arms for the remainder of the waltz and on the last notes Ashcom took her arm. Thinking that he was leading her back to where he had taken her, she walked, her mind a blank as the lights, laughter, and noise of the ballroom turned around like a kaleidoscope before her. She realized too late that he had led her firmly outside, and into the dark, empty terrace. She had left the next slot in her dance card free, in order to rest from an exhausting evening, and now she realized that no one would look for her to claim the dance.
Ashcom still led her away into the darkest part of the terrace lit only by a full mocking moon riding high above. A tremor of fear mixed with excitement ran through her as she felt the strength of his hand on her arm. Then he stopped suddenly and faced her, his hands gripping her arms in a bruising vice.
"Well now, here is Miss Delmere, parading her heart-stopping beauty before fools, and breaking hearts as the night advances. How many hearts have you broken this night, my dear?" Fantine could see his eyes blazing at her under the moonlight as she stood transfixed by them. Then suddenly he could see them no longer, for Ashcom had leaned quickly toward her. He clasped her in a hard embrace in which she felt her breasts crushed against his chest. And as his lips came down, colliding into hers, she realized that she had longed for this all night. In a daze, Fantine felt his mouth parting hers once more and tasted the lips she had ached for all night. Sparks ran riot all over her body as his hard kisses opened roads in which she was a stranger, with a dazzling spectrum of unfamiliar unbearable feelings that mounted and mounted. Strength of mind and strength of body she had possessed only seconds before now left her as she gave in to his kisses, which became harder and harder. His hands seared where they touched as they ran up and down her back, pressing her to him so hard she could hardly breathe.
Then he released her, suddenly, so that she almost fell backward. After the warmth of his powerful arms was removed, she felt the chill of the evening air and stood still, disconcerted at the sudden release from him. Stunned, she saw him leave the terrace without a word.
Fantine walked back to the ballroom in a trance and her eyes dimly registered the sight of Ashcom as he walked briskly across the ballroom. After a quick word to Aunt Dorothy, he stalked out of the house.
The following day, Fantine tried to avoid thinking about Ashcom's kisses, Ashcom's breathless embrace, Ashcom's tongue probing the inside of her mouth--but the feeling of him was all over her, like tight gauze wrapped around her body. The pain of remembrance was too much to bear.
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