That night she spun in circles in bare feet on the ballroom floor - the way she looked, the way she looked at me - made me dizzy in two ways. Every last detail of her appeared to me in an equally fascinating, yet completely opposite way than before. Everyone falls in love when they see such a beautiful girl looking so carefree. She stumbled, and stood still to regain her balance as more people joined the dance. Her gaze moved to mine, and as I stared back, she did not look away for what felt like ages.
Not until after the ballroom had been entirely emptied, did I become conscious of the smile warm on my face. Inspired, I suppose, I went out again to search or her dog. On a stroke of luck, I found him. Granted, it took hours, and the dog would not have lasted minute had I not found him. When I came back to the castle, I found her in the hallway, carrying herself in and entirely different manner from her performance at the party earlier. She told me how it was hard to transition here. I told her I would not let her be alone. Quickly she collected herself, thanked me, and made her way. Quickly, it became clear to me that Mary was more than a willful young woman. On this one day, she had shown an entire range of emotions, and handled each with grace.
My mother swooped in like a hawk almost before Mary was down the steps and asked me about the dog, where I had found him. Unspeaking, I avoided her sharp eye, which would scrutinize and convince me to tell her everything at the slightest change from my expression. I could not bring myself to admit just how much I was willing to do for her. This girl, Mary, who seemed to embody the word 'longing.'
There was something else in her the day that she came to me. Carefree, but not like how she danced. More like thoughtless, the way she demanded the flask. Either way, my smile widened in her company. Soon, she was far from sober and telling me about her quarrel with Francis. That something had happened between him and Olivia. This did not come as a shock to me, so I didn't press the matter. I only told her what I could not stop myself from thinking. It seemed to completely take her off guard. What did she expect? Did she expect no one to sympathize? I remember that she came straight to me afterwards. Not to any of her friends, to me. I sat still and saw her carefully lean in and press her lips softly along. I was not expecting her to apologize. Thinking only about her I pulled her close and kissed her again. After a moment, she pushed me away, apologizing again.
She walked away, leaving me guilty and exhilarated, more than I could have imagined. It was truly a stolen kiss. One I had no right to. My body was lit with a hectic buzz that kept me from sitting still, and kept me from running after her. Every thought tinted darker with worry and an ache, hoping she might return. I needed to see her again, differently, unapologetically. Along the way, the anger and liquor made her drop her reserves, but a near insatiable passion had stolen me from head to toe, and one soft kiss was not enough. I watched her walk away with her head down, turning slightly occasionally, as if to look back, but always too nervous. I can not help but realize if situations were to change, if her feelings for me change, if sober she still came to find me, I will surely always be there waiting for her.
I did not follow her to the ship launching. I stayed alone by the water and cursed her for making me care this much for her. I cursed Francis for driving her into my arms, and pulling her just out of arms reach. I cursed myself for being impulsive, for taking risky shots, for letting her drink carelessly, for not being able to wipe the memory of her mouth against mine from my head.
It occurred to me, that if I fall through the floorboards, and Francis or any member of the court discover my affections for Mary, I would drag her and her country down with me. Outrage would spread through the country, rumors that Scottish's alliance with France is weak as is the engagement. I feel a heavy stone in my stomach at the potential weight of what I have started. If I am not weary of where I step Mary will be faced with the consequences. I sigh and drink what is left in the flask in a few short, bitter gulps. From now on, my attraction will have to remain caged inside my heart, the only place it could stay that would harm no one except myself.
