Actually, he was standing beside her brother, shielded by a curtain in a nook.
"Well! You did seem to enjoy that dance, my friendwhile you did it," Geoffrey said, somewhat acerbically. "What a goddess!" Alain breathed. "What an angel, what a fairy! As light as thistledown, and her kiss..." He laid a hand on Geoffrey's shoulder. "Forgive me, my friend, for I have wronged your sister. I know now that my heart is elsewhere."
"Elsewhere!" Geoffrey looked up, amused. He could tell Alain now. "Have you no sense at all, you great ninny? That is my sister!"
"What!" Alain stared at him.
Then he blushed furiously. "You mean I have treated the Lady Cordelia as ... as..."
"As a woman." Geoffrey gave him a steely glare. "You have treated her as she wants to be treated—as something feminine, desirable. Oh, it is true that she wishes to be loved for her mind, my friend—but it is also true that she wishes to be loved for her body, nay, for all of herself. I assure you that evenings of scholarly discourse are only part of what she wants from a man."
But Alain wasn't listening. He was gazing at the dancer who fluttered on the far side of the hall, and breathing, "It is Cordelia! Oh, Geoffrey, I have never truly known her before!"
An idea sprang from the fertile soil of Geoffrey's imagination, for this was a campaign, in its way. "Then enjoy her favors while you can, my Prince—for after this night's festivities, she may choose a man other than yourself." Alain stared at him, appalled.
"Oh, she well may, I assure you! There are few traits so well sung as the fickleness of women. Nay, enjoy the dance with her, as strongly as you can—for if anything will move her to accept your suit, it is that above all else."
"What?!!? My enjoyment would move her? But how could that ... how could..." Alain swallowed and looked out across the floor. "That a woman might deign to marry me ... because I enjoyed her?"
"That would be part of it, at least." Finally Geoffrey could not contain his impatience any longer. "Why, Alain—do you think she would marry you because you did not enjoy her?"
"Oh ... her company ... yes," Alain said. "But..."
"Company is more than sitting by the fireside in converse, friend," Geoffrey said, and gave him a little push. "Go! Dance with her again, when you may! And when you cannot, seize a chance to dance with the Lady Delilah, too."
"But ... why should I do that?" Alain turned back, wide-eyed.
"Trust me, friend," Geoffrey said, trying to hide his exasperation. "If you wish to win the Lady Cordelia, dance with Delilah. Then dance with Cordelia again, and if you have more questions, ask me in the morning."
Alain shook his head, not understanding a bit of it. He turned away to do as his mentor had bidden.
The music ended, but he was too slow. Cordelia was dancing again by the time he came near her, dancing with that tall, dark lout of a bandit, Forrest! Who else could it be, with that wealth of dark hair and beard? The mask hid him scarcely at all, although a doublet did go far to disguise him, Alain had to admit—he was so seldom decently dressed. He could not help but wonder if Cordelia would find the man attractive, now that he was properly clothed.
An unworthy thought. He put it from him and turned to join the crowd that hovered around Delilah.
Cordelia, as a matter of fact, had recognized Forrest, and was already deep in his embrace, feeling the world spin about her as Forrest whirled her around the floor, devouring her eyes with his own, murmuring extravagant compliments which she was sorely tempted to believe.
"I would know you, Lady Cordelia, through and through. Surely you are the lady of my dreams, Lady Elaine of Shallot! I could never have my fill of you!"
Even as he said it, she could feel the probe, the presence of his mind hovering about her own, seeking entry. Instantly, her own shields were up, and tight. She relaxed outwardly, though, dissembling, trying to hide the fact that she was now on her guard. She laughed. "You may only know me without, sir, for surely the exterior must be enough for two who may not become intimate."
"May I not, then?" He stared at her, wounded. "Wherefore not?"
"Why," she said, "because you have been a thief, and have not yet done a deed that redeems you—and because I have only known you for two days—nay, less! We must come to know one another slowly, Sir Bandit, from the outside inand you have only begun to know my exterior, as yet."
"I wish to," he breathed, pressing close, and his body seemed to fill every hollow of her own. "I wish to know every inch of your exterior, to kiss every iota of it" His lips touched hers, his tongue tickling, probing, exploring. Dimly, she was aware that they still moved in the paces of the dance—but only dimly, for those movements were churning up the tingling, the rush of feeling within her. Her limbs had turned to water, and only his arm bore her up.
Then the cymbals rebuked her, and she stepped away, as the dance dictated, with a surge of self-disgust. How could she be in love with two men at once, and not even know who one of them was? And what of Alain, who had pledged her his troth, however clumsily, but was devoted to her, and remained so?
"You are troubled, sweet one." Forrest touched the little wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Let it pass. Tomorrow is time enough to think of the world again. Tonight there will be time to think of other men. For this moment, for these few, brief minutes of the dance, think only of me."
Well, when he put it that way, what did she have to lose? Just for this one dance, she decided to do as he asked, to let herself think only of Forrest.
And she did.
But when the dance ended, and she found herself in the arms of a youngster whom she did not know, who prattled merrily to her, she saw the golden cavalier acrbss the room, dancing with the Lady Delilah—or Helen of Troy, as she pretended to be tonight; but her movements were anything but regal. Slowly churning as she went through the dance, every gesture an invitation, her body pliant in his arms—and certainly, from where Cordelia watched, he seemed to be paying very close attention to Delilah. Not kissing her, perhaps, not holding her as closely as she was trying to be held—but he did seem to be mesmerized. She felt a stab of jealousy, felt indignant, but quashed the feeling quickly. He was not her property, after all ...
Unless she chose to claim him.
Cordelia decided that she would. She had promised nothing to Forrest, after all—or at least, had promised only to think of nothing but him while they danced. She had, and it had been delicious—but there were other flavors to taste.
At the end of the next dance, she kept her eye on her gold-and-scarlet quarry, contriving to end her steps near him as he stepped back from Delilah with a bow, and the tidal wave of young gallants surged between him and the vixen. He looked up, saw Cordelia, and was at her side instantly, claiming her. "You must dance with me, sweet one. I have waited this night in longing."
She molded herself to his arms and began to move to the measure of the dance that had not yet begun. "You have not waited in loneliness, sir. I have seen what excellent company you have kept."
"I will not deny having sampled other pleasures on this Tree of Life," he breathed, "but none could be half so sweet as yourself."
"Oh! Must you compare me with others, then, to know my virtues?"
"I must not." He moved closer, his body not quite touching hers, but she felt her flesh burning as though he had. Her body prickled in anticipation of his touch.
"If you must leave me alone," the cavalier mourned, "I have no choice but to make the time pass as quickly as I can speed it—but with ever a yearning to have you in my arms again."