The Forget-Me-Not Sonata(23)

‘Isla!’

‘She is. Uncle Herbert’s little nut wouldn’t satisfy a mouse.’

‘I think you’ve had too much to drink again.’ Audrey sighed, suddenly forgetting her frustration and focusing her attention on the feverish face of her sister.

‘I’m not going to dance with him again, ever,’ Isla continued. ‘What good is a man with a small nut? I must go and tell Aunt Edna, she’ll love it!’ and she flounced out of the bathroom, leaving Audrey alone in front of the mirror, gazing into her pale face in anguish. The evening would be over soon and she still hadn’t danced with Louis.

Suddenly Louis’ cheerful face appeared around the door. Audrey sat up with a start. ‘Louis!’ she exclaimed in horror as if she had been caught thinking out loud. His eyes settled on her with tenderness and his mouth curled up at the corners as if he had heard her thoughts.

‘I know this is strictly off limits for men, but you’ve been in here for ages and Cecil says you’ve promised me a dance,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. Audrey couldn’t help but laugh. She stood up, her cheeks aflame and walked toward him. ‘I’ve been waiting all night,’ he added, taking her by the hand. They both felt an inner jolt as they touched for the first time, and Audrey was relieved her satin gloves came between them, as if the sensation of his skin against hers would debilitate her completely. But the heat of his hand melted through the satin and seemed to rise up her arm and into her chest as he gently led her across the room. She was sure her body glowed like a Chinese lantern. ‘You didn’t doubt me, did you?’ he asked seriously, stepping onto the dance floor and pulling her into his arms with confidence. Overwhelmed by the proximity of his body pressed against hers, she could only shake her head and smile, blinking up at him as the scent of his skin invaded her senses and set her mind alight with thoughts she knew she shouldn’t have.

They allowed the music to lead them, gazing mutely into each other’s eyes. As they moved smoothly around the room they were unaware of the ripple of admiration and surprise that vibrated through the party, for no one had expected the ‘eccentric’ Louis Forrester to dance with such grace. For a moment even the Crocodiles saw past the unpolished shoes and dusty tailcoat and were struck by his handsome face and the intense light in his eyes as his spirit soared on the waves of the music. ‘My dear fellow,’ muttered the Colonel to Cecil, shaking the ice in his empty glass with an unsteady hand. ‘He might not know one end of a gun from the other but he’s bloody good on his feet. Who’d have thought it, young Louis of all people!’ Cecil felt a stab of jealousy before remembering that it had been he who had suggested Audrey dance with his brother. Suddenly he wished he hadn’t.

Audrey felt nothing but the pressure of Louis’ hand on her back and the warmth of his chest against hers. She knew she had never danced so well. They glided as one complete being, as if they had danced together through many lifetimes and knew the other’s responses as well as they knew their own. When the dance ended Louis didn’t wait around for the next but without a word led Audrey out into the privacy of the gardens beyond where they could finally be alone.

The lawn was lit by a bright crescent moon which smiled down at them from a clear, starry sky. It was humid and the air was heavy with the dulcet scents of dew-soaked grass and gardenia. Louis didn’t let go of Audrey’s hand but held it tightly as they walked away from the party until the music was little more than a low murmur in the distance and they were engulfed in the mysterious silence of the night. He stopped at last and took both her hands in his. ‘I’m deeply in love with you,’ he said, squeezing her fingers to emphasize that he meant it. Then he shook his head and sighed heavily. ‘I feel elation and yet, at the same time, a deep sadness, like one does in the face of a beautiful sunset or a magical view. I feel melancholy.’ Audrey was touched by his honesty and vulnerability.

‘I feel it too,’ she replied, amazed by her boldness.

‘Melancholy?’ he asked, blinking down at her fondly.

‘No, love,’ she said and to her surprise she didn’t blush, or tremble or stammer. With an impulsiveness that made her laugh he threw his arms around her and drew her into a tight embrace. Then his lips touched the soft flesh of her neck and the sensation of his bristles against her skin rippled all the way down her body like a pebble thrown into a pond and she wound her arms around his shoulders to steady herself.

‘Why do I feel melancholy?’ he asked into her ear.