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Part 11. It had been raining all day, turning the country roads into muddy quagmires that impeded the progress of Edward's carriage, but it was a journey that had been too long delayed. Dusk was falling as he alighted into the courtyard of Ashcroft Hall. The footman announced his arrival to Louisa, who was alone in the drawing room. As protocol demanded she was wearing a black, mourning dress, which emphasised her deadly, white skin and hollowed eyes. "Edward. I am so pleased to see you," she greeted him, a smile flickered on her lips but it failed to change the sadness in her face. "Louisa. I am so sorry. I should have come sooner," he apologized, taking her hands in his. "Hush Edward. I know about your illness. I knew you would come as soon as you were able. Your presence here now is all that matters," she assured him. "I have decide to marry Lucas," she informed him, "I cannot explain why, except he makes me feel safe and since Vanessa's death I seem to crave security." Edward studied her neck. "You are not wearing my present!" he stated. "No. I am sorry. I have been suffering from headaches and the heavy chain was more than I could bear," she explained. "Do you think I should marry Lucas?" she asked. Edward shrugged, "I think that it is very bad form of him to request your hand at a time when you are so very vulnerable." She sighed, "That is what father says too." "I have a strange request Edward," she confided. Edward looked at her puzzled. "Would you dance with me?" she asked, "I want to float. I want to be free for just a little while." Edward smiled at her, his blue eyes looking into her gravely, dark ones. "Of course," he replied, taking her hand he led her to Little Versailles. There were no musicians, the candles above their heads were unlit but it didn't matter. They stood and faced each other. She placed her hand on his shoulder, he lightly clasped her waist and they danced a waltz as if a full orchestra provided the rhythm. As they danced Louisa lowered her head onto Edward's shoulder and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of freedom from fear. Around the ballroom the gilt mirrors monitored the progress of a solo dancer, dressed in black, who appeared to float around the vast room.
The End.
Copyright retained by Denise J. Hale. Any resemblance to any living, dead or undead person is purely subjective. (I've always wanted to write that line!) |