Topic: And We Danced ...

Angel Delaney

Date: 2012-11-11 11:12 EST
((Continues from Luxurious Ladies ....)) ______________________________

Royal Oaks was a beautiful house, set deep in a park of its own in an affluent suburb of Chicago, Illinois. Even in the daytime, it was unique, a lovely place to just look at, even without knowing the interior as well as those who lived and worked there did. But on a night like this ....Royal Oaks certain lived up to its name. The ballroom had been draped in rich reds and golds, the many doors opened up onto the wide terrace that was lit with the irridescent sparkle of many fairy lights in a web that wound between the undying rose bushes that wrapped the colonade.

The beauty of classical and contemporary music mingled through the rooms, performed live in the ballroom by a select quartet representing the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra, and in other rooms by other, smaller groups from the same orchestra. Chicago's elite were there, mingling easily with one another, each of them susceptible in their own way to the eccentric charm of their hostess. No one ever missed one of Lady Cavendish's parties. They were legendary for being quite the best night of any given month. As the evening crept on toward midnight and the hours beyond, Angel finally managed to escape from Peg's clutches, slipping out into the shadows of the wide terrace to hide from the curious and, in some cases, the overly handsy men her employer had been introducing her to all evening. The dress she wore shimmered under the delicate fairy lights, white satin that clung to her torso and flared from her hips despite her request for black. But rather than get Marge in trouble with Peg, Angel had swallowed her irritation and told the darling woman that she had changed her mind.

Peg had opened up her own jewellery box to lay diamonds on her young companion, and had been intimately involved in the careful gathering of Angel's hair half up, off her face, and caught with a crystal barrette. She couldn't deny, she certainly looked the part of the debutante. Angel just hoped she wasn't letting the side down with her lack of scintillating conversation.

As the hours slipped by and the amount of alcohol consumed reached ungodly heights, the money flowed like the champagne in the fountain. The conductor of the Philharmonic, as predicted, was passed out on the living room couch in a drunken stupor. Before he passed out, he expounded to anybody who would listen about Lady Cavendish's generosity. But if the truth were to be known, she threw this party and others like it because she loved being surrounded by happy, laughing people. And the house seemed to overflow with them this evening. Couples danced upon both dance floors, diamonds and precious gems twinkling in the fairy lights. The hours were wearing Peg down, though. The excitement of waiting for the party to start, then the joy of mingling and listening to countless stories that made her giggle with glee, had Peg feeling a little peetered out by the time Angel made her escape onto the terrace. She made her own way upstairs to the relative peace and quiet of her own rooms. In the background, Joshua had been watching and enjoying the party, as well. He was well dressed in his fashionable tuxedo and white bow tie. But when the women went their separate ways, he was a little torn as to which way to go. While intrigued by Angel, he was loyal to Peg. So, to Peg he went first. When he was sure she was settled for the night, he returned to the party, hoping that Angel hadn't wandered too far. He spotted her out on the terrace, still.

Wading through the crowd, he finally found himself in the relative quiet of the terrace. "Some party," he smirked. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he deliberately kept from looking at her head on. His profile was cast in shadow, keeping his identity a secret for now.

Angel hadn't heard anyone come close by, a little startled by the attractive voice that resounded so near in the shadows. She glanced toward the man who had come out into her darker end of the terrace, seeing nothing but a tall, well built darkness of shadow within the greyness around her. "Something is certainly one way to put it," she agreed with a smile. "I hope you've given generously, or Lady Cavendish may hunt you down with her chequebook of charity."

Joshua placed his hands upon the balustrade and leaned against it as he gazed out onto the moonlit grounds below. "She loves the Philharmonic," he commented quietly. "I think everybody here will do anything to keep Lady Cavendish happy." It felt odd to call her that. Peg was Peg and her formal name felt awkward as it rolled across his tongue. He changed the subject then. "Had enough of the dark side of Chicago society?" He meant how she had escaped onto the terrace away from drunk advances and grabby hands. She wasn't the only one; there were cougars by the pack inside.

Angel laughed a little nervously. "I was kinda hoping if I stay out here none of my so-called suitors for the evening will come looking for me before they pass out or, you know, need to have their hips replaced." She leaned a hip against the balustrade, folding her hands on the railing to fidget awkwardly. "Oh, I'm Angel, by the way. Peg's - Lady Cavendish's companion."

"Nice to meet you," he bowed his head slightly towards her politely. "And good plan. You were offered up on a silver platter, as if Lady Cavendish were looking to marry you off." He put his hands into his pockets then and rocked back onto his heels. Decisions, decisions. He'd thought about this moment so often since the disaster that had been their first meeting over a week before and still hadn't figured out just what to do. "Did you find any that you'd consider?"

"God, no." The answer was instantaneous, blurted out before she could consider being tactful. "Or, you know, if you're one of those guys who've been trying to feel me up all night ....maybe?" She snorted with laughter, hiding her face behind her hand for a moment. "Oh, wow, I'm digging a hole."

He chuckled and shook his head. "No, I've not been groping and grabbing. I've been running from my own gropers and grabbers. Didn't think I'd escape that Widow Wilkes. She's quick!"

Angel laughed, suddenly relaxing in the company of a fellow victim. "I know, I saw her chasing some poor guy through the ballroom," she giggled, turning her back to the garden to lean against the balcony beside him, her face cast in soft light from the open doors not so very far away. "I guess that was you, huh?"

"You saw that?" He cringed, embarassed. Then he laughed and caught her turning about out of the corner of his eye. She was lovely and, if he was honest with himself, Peg's match-making was working. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a scene. Her bony fingers hurt when they pinch! I think I'm going to have bruises for a week!"

"Well, to be honest, you stole my escape route," she grinned, looking up at him through her genuine smile. She wasn't sure why, but she could have sworn she'd met this guy before. She just didn't remember where, or when, or even what he looked like. "You think you're gonna have bruises? You should see the state of my *ss after Mr Forbes and his son were finished dancing with me."

Angel Delaney

Date: 2012-11-11 11:17 EST
"Is that an offer?" It was out before he realized it and there was no taking it back. Again, he cringed at his impulsiveness. "I mean, uh....really who is digging a hole now?" He chuckled and shook his head at his folly.

She blushed before she realised it, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed again at his impulsive suggestion. "Well, since we're both below ground level, maybe I should say ....it could be an offer, to the right guy." She shrugged, laughing at her own flirtatiousness. "God, I'm sorry, I don't usually throw myself at guys."

Both of his brows raised and he hooted with laughter. "Oh, no worries. It's the champagne and liquor you've consumed. I won't take advantage of it, I promise." He swept a bow then, and finally turned in her direction. Half of his face was still draped in dark shadow. "Though I will say it's very difficult to keep from being a grabby groper just this minute."

Half his face might have been in shadow, but his features were very clear to her. And those eyes ....Angel was transfixed by the pale blue, the ice and heat contained within. Unconsciously, her gaze dropped to his lips for a moment before she caught herself, lifting her eyes back up to his with a faint smile as the import of his quiet comment sank in, drawing a slow thrill through her body. "Maybe you wouldn't have to chase me," she heard herself say softly. "If you did things the right way."

This was a dangerous game that they were playing. He looked up, seeing the lights of Peg's room extinquished. He pursed his lips and thought about the things they'd said to each other, over and over. He loved her, still. But she was too frail to satiate the burning physical needs that he possessed. She knew this and encouraged him to find an outlet. They both knew the dangers of keeping such hungers bottled up. He considered what Angel was offering and weighed it against how Peg would feel if he took Angel up on that offer. Closing his eyes, a switch was flipped and just like that, humanity was gone. He opened his eyes and looked down at her with a smile that was just a touch predatory. "And you'll tell me the right way?" He wasn't going to try to compel her, the jewelry she wore made certain that he couldn't.

"I ..." Angel swallowed, suddenly feeling like deer caught in headlights, prey being stalked by a deadly predator. But it wasn't necessarily a bad feeling. It didn't make her feel unsafe, just ....hunted. "Most men would ask a girl to dance at a fancy party like this one," she ventured, half her mind reassuring her that if she felt she was going too far, she could always go and find Peg, unaware that her safety net was in bed and asleep already.

"I'm not like most men," he countered. Turning his face into the light, he offered his elbow. "But if you insist." His chuckle was dark and enticing. He looked at her, eyes gentle and soft with a touch of darkness tucked away in that sea of blue.

Hesitantly, so enthralled by this handsome, fascinating man that she couldn't help herself, Angel curled her hand into the crook of his elbow, stepping close to his side as she looked up at him. "How are you not like most men?" she asked him curiously. "What would you call the right way to do things?"

The answers to her questions were conflicts he'd dealt with in himself for years. He escorted the lovely lady to the middle of the terrace and stopped. He turned then and gathered her into his arms for a dance. He decided to answer her second question. "It depends on the person," he started as they began to sway to the music that floated out from the room with the light. "Some people like to be swept off of their feet while others would rather take things slowly, sensually."

There was something about the confident way he gathered her close that sent shimmering ripples down Angel's spine. For someone who didn't like to be touched by anyone she didn't know, she was allowing this mystery man past her guard so easily. It was almost as though she knew him already, but she was sure now they'd never met. "What do you do with someone who doesn't know what they want?" she heard herself ask, just a little breathless from the startling stimulation of his closeness. She'd never been so instantly attracted to anyone before, wondering just what had happened today to change her carefully guarded attitude to men in general.

"I listen to them," he smiled, his mouth a crooked line. "And in listening, they tell me what they want. Then I give it to them." He danced with a practiced ease, holding her close as they spun around slowly. His hand never dipped below her waist, the other never leaving her hand. He'd learned from the experience before and let her do some of the leading, at least as far as the sensual needs went. "So far, you've told me you don't like to be groped and that you want a man to be a gentleman."

That's what my head wants, she thought to herself. My body wants the sensual side to override my brain until I give in completely. And I'll bet you could do it, too. She utterly failed to stifle the somewhat secretive smile that rose with this thought as he guided her about, not even realising that he was waltzing her when she had no idea how to waltz. "So if I listen to you the way you listen to me," she ventured thoughtfully, tallying up their conversation thus far, "you've told me that you don't like to be groped either, and that ....well, you think I'm worth spending your time on."

"Very good," he chuckled. That smile of hers spoke volumes, but he didn't press to know what she was thinking. When the time was right, she'd tell him. Though he desperately wanted to know now. Damn the vervain and the jewelry she wore that contained it. He brought their joined hands to his shoulder, pulling her even closer. "Would you think less of me if I said that gown is lovely on you? It's no wonder you were so sought after tonight." Because you look absolutely edible.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink that screamed out how very unused she was to being complimented by a man she found attractive, much less by a man who was holding her so closely. Not even Rick had slow danced her, and he had done more than his share of romancing when she was newly sixteen. "I might think you were buttering me up," she heard herself answer honestly, daring to uncurl her hand from his fingers to creep up and lay her palm high on his shoulder. "If I didn't think you're the most truthful guy I've met tonight."

She'd made the move, and he didn't object. When her hand left his, he let his own land upon her waist. The waltz turned less formal and into a slow sway where their feet hardly left the ground. "Has no man ever told you that you're beautiful" Of course they have, you are a beautiful woman. But, unlike them, I don't say it with the intent of bedding you within the next twenty four hours."

Encouraged by the way he took her tentative motion toward something less formal and made it warmer, Angel smiled, laughing a little at his use of language. "Yeah, well, no man has ever ....how did you put it?" She glanced down between them, only a little shy of him, surprising herself with how comfortable she was with a handsome stranger. How deliciously uncomfortable she was becoming with each moment that passed. "Bedded me at all. I can't believe I just told you that."

Angel Delaney

Date: 2012-11-11 11:21 EST
He chuckled at her comment, and knew it for the lie that it was. He didn't call her out on it, not specifically. "Oh come on, now. We're not living in the roaring twenties." His laugh faded into a warm smile. The young adults of the twenties were just as loose with their inhibitions as they were now, only they were more discreet about it.

"No, I mean it," she laughed back at him, strangely not embarrassed by her insistence on his believing what she had to tell him. "There's a huge difference between a man and a boy, and ....well, compared to you, the only guy I've been with was definitely a boy."

So it wasn't an outright lie, and he felt proud that she made him aware of the difference. "Then I hope I don't pale by comparison." He took her hand again, and stepped back. Holding her hand over her head, he spun her gently and brought her back to hold her close.

The white gown flared out about her legs as he spun her, dark hair flaring with it until she came to a halt, somehow closer to him than before, one hand pressed to his chest, the other still caught in his grasp as she found herself gazing up at him. The renewed sense of prey in the arms of a sexual predator surfaced, and she felt her skin flush once again, her breath growing shorter as her gaze flickered to his lips more than once. "Oh, I ....I don't think you could pale in comparison with him at all," she whispered, amazed by the sheer weight of longing that was settling over her.

The clock in the ballroom began to chime the midnight hour. Something inside him changed as he felt her heat and saw the longing in her eyes. His humanity had snuck back and was nagging at the brain. It would have been so easy to take from her all that he wanted. But she was a friend of Peg's and that made most things off limits. Their swaying had stopped and he simply stared down at her. He breathed her air, they were so close.

"It's midnight," he whispered, pale blue eyes searching her rich, chocolate drop colored ones. He was torn between going and staying. The war raged within his brain until he came to the conclusion that if he lingered and things kept going where they seemed to be, he'd have to slink off into the night to sate the hunger that she wouldn't be able to. Instinctively his head dipped and for the briefest of moments, his lips touched hers. "I have to go." He felt himself saying the words, but his arms remained around her for a few moments longer.

As his lips touched hers, Angel shuddered tenderly. In that moment, she would have done anything for him, with him, without even knowing his name. And then he spoke, and she felt her defences snap back into place, as though that moment of physical contact was all it took to break her down before laying herself open to heartache once again. She stiffened, stepping back from the encircling grasp of his arms with uncertain hesitation. "You're leaving?"

If she had known that her eyes were accusing him of some betrayal he was not guilty of, she would have been horrified with herself. But they say that the eyes are the window to the soul, and Angel's soul was at a critical point - damaged and still innocent, and frightened that she would never connect with anyone again.

"I must," he nodded, feeling the full weight of that accusation and knowing exactly why she felt that way. "You will see me again, Angel. Of that you can be sure." He spoke quietly, somberly. There was guilt in his eyes, and didn't try to hide it. He knew how vulnerable she was and with every fiber of his being he wanted to protect her from any harm. But to take her when she was at such a state would be doing the most harm of all. "Lunch, tomorrow" I'll be here at 11:30, sharp." It was a peace offering, a compromise.

The accusation faded from her eyes as he made that offer, the first sting of abandonment soothed away by a promise to return that she felt sure he would keep. "If Peg can spare me," she nodded slowly, "I'd like that." Her brow rose, a hint of her usual humor touching her hesitant smile. "Any particular dress code?"

"Clothes would be nice." He smiled at his own joke and took a half step back. "So, tomorrow then." Joshua felt better at having seen the hurt in her eyes fade. He laughed nervously as he continued to step back until the shadows engulfed him in darkness.

She laughed softly, watching him step away until a hand on her shoulder alerted her to the presence of the butler, who needed someone to say goodnight to the guests who were leaving. Promising that she would be there in a moment, Angel looked back into the darkness, her fingertips just barely touching her lips. "Tomorrow, then," she agreed quietly with the night, and turned to go back inside. Peg's match-making was definitely paying off.

((Awesome thrumdiddly thankie-pooches to Josh's player!))