I looked over the people socializing among one another. Older women did their best to be included in conversations, while those younger than sixty stood there as if they were statues.
Young women looking for husbands were doing their best to strike the fancy of the many men around, waiting to dance. Despite being here for well over an hour, I had only been asked to dance twice. Mostly, I had been forced to watch other girls who seemed unable to find their seats due to the many men around them.
I looked over, seeing my mother and father now speaking to someone new. My mother kept looking over at me while my father continued speaking to the older man.
"Excuse me, may I have the honor of dancing this set with you?" a man asked, catching my attention.
I straightened my posture and looked up at him, realizing he had a hand extended. It would be absolutely rude to turn him down without reason. I placed my hand in his, following as he led me to the dance floor.
Based on how he had begun dancing, it was clear that this was not his first ball as well, but this was the first I had seen of him. He led lightly, not taking the lead too harshly but making it clear that he was the one in control.
At least he did not drag me like the previous dance partner.
"Your father seems to be speaking to mine," he said, breaking the silence.
I glanced over, seeing the similarity with the older man.
"My name is Nathaniel Hughe," he said, introducing himself.
I gave a small smile. "My name is."
"Cordelia Bellrose," he interrupted, "we have met before when we were younger." "We danced once at a holiday banquet when I was fifteen and you were much younger."
"I believe I was almost eight then," I said as realization hit me. He was the son of my father's employee, Lawrence Hughes. Nathaniel was his youngest and, unfortunately, the only child of his second wife.
"You have grown into a unique beauty," he said.
"I do not believe you are supposed to give me compliments."
He smirked at me, and we continued to dance as if nothing happened or was even said.
As I looked back at Nathaniel, he was observing me as well. Only his face suggested he was attempting to decide my worth. Being watched that way made me uncomfortable, but with my father and Jackson watching, I only looked down at the top of his chest rather than keeping eye contact.
"I have been waiting for the opportunity to meet a young woman that looked the part of a structured wife," he said, making me move my eyes back to his.
Unable to speak to him, I simply smiled. Dancing with him felt almost natural but unsettling at the same time. I was following all of the steps correctly and trying my best to present myself, but I still felt out of place.
How was I supposed to act in a situation like this? I had never experienced a strange feeling in my chest like this. All I could do was play the part and wait for the music to end, and once it did, he started leading me back to my seat.
"Would it be inappropriate of me to request your hand in another dance later in the evening?" he asked.
Before I could answer, Jackson appeared, saying, "I am positive that my sister would enjoy this very much; isn't that right, Cordelia?"
Nathaniel extended his hand for Jackson, which he happily shook, saying, "Always a pleasure to see you, Jackson."
I smiled at the two before turning back to Nathaniel and saying, "Yes, I would enjoy another dance."
As I answered, I was stuttering and wondering where this lack of assurance was coming from.
"It was certainly nice to see my sister finally dance with someone worthy enough," Jackson said, bringing the attention back to himself.
"I must go speak with my father, but I will most certainly return," Nathaniel said, walking away and leaving me alone with Jackson.
He looked down at me and said, "Father is expecting you to find someone of high caliber; he would not tolerate you stumbling over your words as if you were an uneducated, low-class degenerate." Jackson said spitting out words like that was not something I was unfamiliar with, but he had never been quite so insistent on something in such a foul way.
Nathaniel Hughes is an excellent choice for a husband. He is wealthy and well educated, and he will take care of you. "You will be lucky if he wishes to seek out a courtship with you, which you will happily accept," he ordered.
I looked up at Jackson. "Do you really believe he is interested in courting me?"
Jackson cleared his throat. "If you were to marry Nathaniel Hughes, your father would be completely satisfied and would no longer have to worry about your well-being."
The idea of my father being happy over something to do with me seemed almost impossible at this point, but I wanted it so badly. I would do anything to get it.
"Keep dancing with people, especially when he asks, and play your part well," he said, leaving me alone once more.
I watched my father, seeing him speak with Lawrence and Nathaniel. I wondered what they were discussing, especially once he smiled while shaking Lawrence's hand strongly. Nathaniel looked back at me, giving me a small smile.
Then it dawned on me.
How was I supposed to keep dancing when no one wanted to dance with me? Nathaniel would see that and surely realize something is wrong with me. His tone was controlled, and though he did not yell, I could hear and feel the anger in his voice. It made me uncomfortable, and all I wanted to do was step as far away from him as I possibly could.
All the eligible men were already dancing with other girls. I scanned the room, looking to see if anyone would take an interest in me, but they all looked away or looked me over before deciding not to follow through.
Then I came in contact with eyes as dark as the night sky, glimmering with their own set of stars. They stared right back at me.
How was it that I had not spotted those eyes before?
He moved without taking his eyes off of mine, and I could feel him getting closer. But he somehow seemed to be moving away. Without any control over my body, I made my way through the room, ignoring whispers and gasps as I walked across the ballroom without an escort. Normally, I would never perform such an act, no matter the situation.
My eyes stayed on him as he kept moving, and I did my best to follow. All I could do was bump into other people dancing in the process, while my mind was still focused on those eyes.
I looked around, feeling as though they were still on me, before feeling a hand on my shoulder. I turned, finding him standing before me.
"The next song is about to start; may I have the pleasure of dancing with you?" he asked, holding out his hand.
I looked at the details of his appearance, seeing that he had a head of messy curls, which were pulled back but still framed his face. He seemed older than others here to find a bride, but his eyes were even older than the rest of his appearance.
He possessed such strong features that they all appeared in a dominant fashion.
"Would that be alright?" he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
Words seemed to go missing as I tried to answer him, so instead I placed my hand on his. He immediately pulled me closer to the dance floor, making no attempt to keep a distance from me.
There had to be people watching us, but strangely enough, the concern of being watched did not even cross my mind in the slightest. All I could focus on was his eyes pulling me in, and I was doing nothing to stop them.
As he moved, I followed, as if there were something pulling me closer to him, unable to even consider pulling away.
"Has anyone ever informed you that you have intense eyes?" he asked, whispering it against my ear as he pulled me closer.
Feeling his breath sent a chill down my neck. I shook my head. He pulled away slightly and smiled down at me, making me feel uneasy about the reaction my body was having. "What is your name?"
"Cordelia"
His lips turned up. "Cordelia," he repeated, making my name sound beautiful.
"What is your name?" I asked, surprised by how open I was feeling.
"Killian," he looked me over, "I did not believe I would enjoy coming here quite as much, but you have changed the evening for me." perhaps even my life."
I could feel my cheeks warming. "That is a bold statement to make."
"I am a bold person."
I leaned in closer to him. "I have never seen eyes as dark as yours; they're beautiful."
He grinned, placing a finger under my chin to lock in the intimate contact. "It runs in my family."
My eyes wandered to his lips, making me notice what appeared to be a red stain. "Did you bite your lip?"
He placed his hand over his mouth, wiping away the evidence. "Perhaps the wine I had earlier," one of his hands moved down the curve of my spine, "Now tell me, are you like the other girls here?"
"Other girls, as in?"
"Are you here looking for a husband?"
nodded, asking, "Why else would I be here?"
"Perhaps like me, here for the fun."
"I do not experience fun at events like these," I said, feeling strange for speaking my mind without hesitance.
"Then maybe I changed your life as well."
"Maybe," I whispered.
What was I experiencing?
"I would like to see you again, Cordelia," he said, leaning closer. "This is not the last interaction we will have."
It felt like I was in a dream; nothing seemed quite real as I spoke to him.
He looked past me, pausing for a moment before looking me deeply in my eyes. "However, you will not remember who you danced with, but you will certainly remember how it made you feel." Understood?"
I slowly nodded, unable to look away from his gaze.
"Goodbye, Cordelia," he said, saying my name in a tone that suggested he did not want to leave my side.
"Goodbye?" I asked, feeling surprised as he walked away from me, leaving me alone with the other dancers.
I wanted to follow after him but was instead pulled off the dance floor by my father.
"You are hurting me," I cried out, trying to pull my upper arm away from his grip.
We were near the entrance, and he took a moment to look around, making sure there was not a soul in sight.
"Father"
"What has come over you?" he asked, appearing livid.
I shook my head, completely confused. "Come over me."
He nodded, "You had the nerve to walk across that floor without an escort, and then you danced like a common whore to that stranger." "What is the meaning of this?"
"I do not remember," I whimpered, wanting his hands off of me.
Being this close in contact with my father made me uncomfortable. I was taught to fear him, and here he was directing his entire anger at me. The disappointment in his expression was more than clear, and it made me feel embarrassed over the show I had possibly put on out on the dance floor.
"We are going home," he said, making me sit on a bench. "I am so disappointed in you, Cordelia."
Feeling it was one thing, but hearing it made me break inside. My shoulders slumped as I tried to contain my emotions. I could never cry in public, and if I did, it would only make him more upset. I wish I could take it back.
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