Author's Note: Hey guys, if you're reading this, you stuck around! Hope you enjoy this chapter.

The first thing that struck me was the sheer number of people. There were so many bodies, flowing from room to room, dancing and laughing and being generally lively. The ladies' dresses swirled and the sound of glasses clinking pierced the air intermittently. Music filled the room, and I thought I could make out its source on a balcony of sorts in the main hall.

I tightened my grip on Peter's arm, suddenly quite disconcerted. He noticed and looked at me with concern, but I nodded at him to move forward into the crowd. I was going to make the best of this night, whatever it took.

My parents were already off and socialising, being the pair that they were. Raulin Lopez, my father, was the head of a successful shipping company. His attentions were sought by many prospective traders, and more recently by many bachelors who knew he had an unmarried daughter. My mother Leticiana got attention by default as his wife.

I could feel a few pairs of eyes on me already, following me as I moved between them. The attention felt strange – I liked that people thought I was worthy of their attention, but it made me feel a little self-conscious. I knew I looked good, but there was always a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that they were looking at me for some other reason. I knew it was ridiculous, but it was there. We moved towards the hall where there was a dance going on and decided to stay on the sidelines, away form the main action. The dance floor was bustling, people everywhere. It was overwhelming, and I felt the need for a drink. Already.

"Peter, I'd like to get some wine, I'll be back soon," I said, going to release my hold on his arm. But he stopped me, slipping his arm back in mine.

"I'll come with you, Santana. I think this place is a little too crowded."

I looked at him gratefully and he got the message, because he looked back down at me with what I could only decipher to be pity. He knew how much I didn't want to be here, and in true Peter form, wasn't going to let me suffer alone.

He pulled me forward swiftly, the music fading as we moved away. There were less people out here, and the air seemed cooler, easier to breathe. I took advantage of this and inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the relatively fresh air. I felt more comfortable away from the people.

In all the commotion I'd almost allowed myself to forget the reason Mama had been so adamant that I came tonight. But when I saw the predatory gaze of an older man fixed on me, or more specifically, on my body, I had to fight the urge to run away and hide in a corner. That honestly sounded like a very good option right now. I cringed inwardly and tried not to show my discomfort as I continued to follow Peter towards a waiter who was coming around with a tray of drinks. I watched him balancing it precariously on one hand, French style, and trying to navigate his way through the crowd. Well, stumbling through the crowd. Every now and again, a hand would pop through the masses to grab a glass from the silver tray or place an empty one back on it, and I could see how flustered the poor man was getting.

By the time he reached us, I was eager to take a glass for myself. I stopped him with a tap on his free arm and he looked up, startled. No one had bothered to stop him for a drink before me. He looked like he was about to ask if he had done something wrong, but I stopped him. "I'd like a glass of wine, if you don't mind." I tried to address him politely, but the air was getting thicker and my throat felt a little tight again. He still hadn't wiped that confused look off his face as he handed me a glass, which I took by the stem and held as I'd been taught. Little finger out slightly, gentle pressure on the sides, stem between fingers. Perfect. I looked back at the boy, who was still standing there, and now seemed to be staring at me. A slight blush tinted his cheeks and I rolled my eyes. Would this ever stop?

At that moment, I just wished every male in the room would evaporate and I could walk about freely without the gaping. I turned and dismissed the waiter boy with a wave of my hand. I had bothered to make him feel better, and I had no idea why I did, and he merely repaid me with the typical grotesque male stare. I should have known better – never trust a man.

Peter was by now holding his own drink and talking to some stranger whom I assumed he knew from his business in town. The man looked distinguished, and I could do nothing but stand, hanging off Peter's arm while he told some apparently hilarious story. I drifted from the conversation, looking around the room. Now I really looked, I could see the party mood starting to take its toll on some people. Women's cheeks were red, and not just from rouge. Men's eyes were wandering, as before. The sound of chatting grew and grew until it was a loud buzzing filling my head.

It took a second for me to come back to reality when I realised my name was being said. "Santana?"

I looked up at my brother who was looking down at me again. "Oh, uh, pardon me. It's quite loud in here. What were you saying, Peter?" I felt a soft blush colour my cheeks as I realised I'd been completely ignoring whatever was being said.

"I was just saying that Mr Wentworth here has a lovely estate, and mentioned how nice it would be if we would come and visit one day. I said we'd be delighted."

I looked at the large middle-aged man again. He had a thick moustache, and a small pointy beard at the bottom of his chin. His middle showed evidence of one too many buffets, and his shoes were so shiny I could see myself in them. He was the picture of an aristocratic simpleton, and he disgusted me.

"Certainly, one day I'm sure it would be lovely to visit." I forced a smile and tried to be diplomatic in my answer, but I wasn't so sure how exactly it came off. By the glint in his eye, I was fairly certain it worked. Hoping I had appeased him for now, I looked around the room again, this time playing it up.

"Peter, I think I might go and find mother now. She asked that I come and see her at some point in the evening," I lied. Well, it wasn't exactly a complete lie; she would want me to see her, even if she hadn't explicitly stated so. I turned back to the man I now knew as Mr Wentworth and plastered the sickeningly sweet smile back on my face. "It was lovely meeting you, sir. If you'll excuse me."

I detached myself for real this time, not giving Peter the chance to hold me back again. I wanted to get as far away as possible. I briefly considered a short trip outside, but decided against it. I was not prepared to walk about on my own in the dark in such an unfamiliar place. It really was a shame, because I could really feel my need for clear air growing.

Before I could actually go and find Mama, I was caught up speaking to a few ladies whom I knew from town. They were all rather pleasant, such a nice change from the snobby guests back where Peter was.

One woman, whose name I thought was Cassandra, was speaking animatedly about a man she met in the bakery the week gone by.

"My goodness, was he handsome. And he picked up my bun for me too. Mind you, I only dropped it once I saw him," she giggled. "I think his name was Elwood. He was a right good looking, well dressed young man and I made a total fool of myself, as usual."

Just like now, I couldn't help but think.

I finished my wine just in time to dump my empty glass on the passing waiter boy's tray. Serves him right for last time. I tried to immerse myself in conversation with the women, but I almost wanted to go find my mother now; I was becoming agitated. I excused myself again from their gossipy chatter and perused the crowd for my parents.

Wondering through the crowd carefully took a good ten minutes. I bumped into a few people, had someone sneeze very close to me and had to ward off an impending panic attack before I finally reached Mama and papa. "Hello," I said simply as I approached. They turned to look at me, obviously surprised at my sudden presence.

"Is everything alright, dear?" My mother asked, eyeing my suspiciously. I hardly, if ever, sought their presence at such events. So they had a valid reason for concern.

"Perfectly fine, I just wanted to come and see how you were getting along. Peter is having quite the time with some clients from the village."

"Oh," my mother said, "I suppose we're in rather the same situation. We were just talking to the Duke here. Your father has done a fair amount of work for him in the past few years. Mama beamed at me and then turned her smile back to the imposing man in front of us. For once, I had the sense to lower my head and curtsey. I let the action linger a little, showing my respect.

"Pardon me for interrupting your conversation then. Terribly sorry, sir," I said, raising my eyes to the tall man again. He looked to be about fifty, his hair greying and with small crinkles beside his eyes. He was clean-shaven save for a thin moustache above his lips, and he was impeccably dressed. He was thin, but not lanky. He really looked like a duke, or at least what I imagined one should look like. I had to remember now that I was in the presence of high nobility and that long, studying glances most likely weren't the best way to go.

He looked at me and smiled slightly. "Not at all, young lady. I was just telling your parents how much I appreciate your father's work for me. He is indeed a man most worthy of his position." He turned his practised expression back to my papa, who looked ready to burst with pride.

"You are too kind, Your Grace," he said generically.

"Thankyou Mr Lopez. Now, I'm sure you and your lovely lady folk would like to meet my family."

My father nodded a little too enthusiastically. The Duke led us through the swarms of people to the drawing room, where the rest of his family must have been. It was now that I wanted my brother to magically reappear at my side, so I could have something to hold onto again. No such luck – wherever he was, he wasn't coming to my rescue anytime soon. I suddenly regretted ever leaving him, or that group of women.

We reached the room and saw smaller groups of people sitting all around, chatting pleasantly in a manner much more to my tastes than those about the other rooms and the hall. It was quieter in here. This was quite obviously where the highest of the society present chose to reside. I felt a little out of place in that manner.

He led us over to one of the groups and addressed a couple of the women sitting on a very expensive looking couch. I still hadn't torn my eyes from the surroundings; it was the nicest room I had seen in the house so far. I could understand why those who were used to the grandeur would choose this room. Not that the rest of the house was unpleasant in any way; for goodness' sake, the place was a palace.

I was pulled out of my reverie by the start of the introductions. Our families seemed to have formed lines facing one another. I looked at the Duke again – the man commanded respect like no one I'd ever met. I felt obliged to look at him when he wasn't even talking. Before I knew it, he'd started talking again.

"My dear, this is Mr and Mrs Lopez, and their daughter Santana. I'm sure you know Mr Lopez. He did some jobs for me earlier in the year." He seemed to be talking to a tall, skinny blonde woman who looked about forty, definitely younger than her husband. She was wearing a deep green silk dress and her hair was arranged neatly on her head. She was pretty. She nodded at his introduction, smiling genuinely. "This is my wife, the Duchess Aletta." He was now talking to us again, motioning to his wife, and we all bowed our heads respectfully.

He moved on to another woman standing next to the Duchess, this one with shorter brown hair. She was pretty too, but obviously took after her father more than her mother. Her features were prominent and striking, and she had an air about her that was reminiscent of the Duke. "This is my eldest daughter, Constance. She is married to a Lord Harry Warde, and is here for the evening despite her living 4 hours by coach from here." He looked at his daughter dotingly and she too smiled at us. Again with the respectful bobbing.

He moved on swiftly, motioning to the end of his family line. "And last, but certainly not least, my younger daughter Brittany." It took a minute for my eyes to find whom he was motioning to, but when they did, I could swear my heart stopped.

There, standing in front of me, was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. My heart waited out its skipped beat and then seemingly began trying to make up for lost time by beating as rapidly as it possibly could.

I took a second to take her in. She had long golden hair that was pulled back into an elaborate bunch of curls and waves, much like mine except a hundred times more beautiful. A pure white dress fell to the floor around her tall, slim form. But the most striking part about her was her eyes. They were sky blue, and filled with the contagious warmth that seemed to radiate from her whole body. Or maybe that was just me, as I felt a strong blush creeping up my cheeks. Why was I blushing?

Most likely because I was staring like a complete idiot. By now she was looking right back at me, those eyes boring into mine. She was probably trying to decipher my odd behaviour, as was I. I noticed a faint reddening of her cheeks. No, perhaps I was imagining it.

I heard a throat being cleared and was pulled back to the introduction at hand. Mama was looking at me a little strangely, and I realised I'd neglected to curtsey, which I did promptly, but it only caused my cheeks to redden further. I could feel the odd looks people were giving me at my sudden colour, but they soon went back to their conversation once the episode seemed to be over. I looked up to find Brittany still watching me. I felt the need to say something, anything. I opened my mouth a couple of times before I could get anything out.

"I'm honoured to meet you, Lady Pierce." I said, going for the safe option. "I apologise, it's just… a little warm in here." She seemed to take this into account and nodded. My pathetic excuses were getting worse by the minute.

"You too, Miss Lopez." A series of emotions flitted across her face, but I couldn't quite figure out what. One of them almost looked like—no. She settled on a polite smile, the corners of her mouth pulling up a little. It was a soft expression, and only served to make her look more beautiful. I shook my head a little to clear my mind, and put a hand over my heart, which at this point seemed to be beating a mile a minute. I could feel it out of control under my hand, and I suddenly felt quite dizzy. Brittany looked at me, now concerned as I began to sway a little.

"Are you alright?" She asked. I nodded uncertainly and wished I would stop acting like such an imbecile. "Would you like to go outside for a minute? It's cooler out there; perhaps it might help." Her question took me by surprise. Did she mean that she would come with me? I internally slapped myself for hoping the answer was yes.

I nodded again, this time with more conviction. I had wanted to go outside for some time now, to get some long needed fresh air. It smelled like alcohol, smoke and the sweat of the hundreds of people that were dancing merrily in here.

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea," I said a little shakily. She smiled wider and offered me her arm. I looked at it, puzzled for a moment as she watched me. Did she want me to take it? She was a woman…

"You look a little unstable," she explained, "and I thought it'd be better if you had something to hold on to." Oh. That was perfectly logical. But it wouldn't help much when the apparent cause of my instability was the thing keeping me up. I decided to take her arm, because she was right. She was taller than me, so I had to hold my arm up a little higher. I was used to it because of Peter, but it was still a little uncomfortable. She seemed to notice this and lowered her own arm a little. When I looked up at her, she simply smiled and kept walking towards the font door with me in tow.

The doorman nodded at us as we passed him. "My lady," he said courteously. She whisked me out the door and down the front steps. There was no one else outside. She pulled me past a group of waiting carriages and into a small courtyard beside the house.

The air was clear, and I could finally breathe again. The chill helped calm my blazing cheeks and I could feel myself relaxing as I looked around in the dark. From what I could make out, there was a sundial to my left in the centre of a circle of hedges. It sat in the middle of a small moat, the water of which caught the reflections of the light form the house's windows. It was tranquil, and I loved it. I looked to my feet and saw I was standing one of a series of small, engraved stepping-stones. This one had a baby deer on it. Releasing my arm, Brittany moved over to the water and watched it ripple slightly. Her own moonlit reflection was now shimmering on the surface. It was ethereal.

"This is a beautiful place," I tried. She didn't move, but she nodded slightly.

"Yes, it really is. I come here sometimes when I need to think. You looked like you needed some space. I know how stuffy it can get in there." She spoke quietly, but with tenderness to her voice that I wondered at. I still didn't know why she was bothering with me. She was a lady, and I was just Santana Lopez. I knew I shouldn't let it get to my head. She seemed to be having some sort of internal battle, but finally she turned to me and I saw a glint in her eyes. Through the darkness I could make out the slightest of blushes colouring her cheeks. "You look lovely this evening, Miss Lopez."

And there was the heart flutter again. What? I stood there, a little awkwardly, until she turned back to the water. Her expression had changed, like she regretted saying that. I had to be careful with my response.

"Thank you, Lady Pierce. As do you." I tried to sound confident, but my voice wavered a little. She must have noticed because out of the corner of my eye, I could see that small smile return to her face. I hesitated a moment before moving over to her, keeping a distance between us. Somehow it felt necessary. I saw he turn her head to look at me, but I was suddenly very interested in the sundial, glaring at it intensely. "Don't you have guests to entertain? Won't your parents be wondering where you are?" I asked her.

"No, I often disappear for a while at these balls anyway. Usually it's by myself though." She was still watching me, and I started to feel more uncomfortable. I felt like she was judging me. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. It's very refreshing out here." I didn't know why this had to be so awkward; we were just two women chatting. Nothing strange. Why, then, did this feel different? I looked at her again, which was a mistake because I found myself looking right into those bright blue eyes. She held my gaze for a minute before turning her body to face me. That small movement was all it took to shatter whatever trance I'd been in. I needed to get away from here. Now this air seemed thicker than the air inside had been, and my heart rate began to pick up again.

"I…need to go speak to my brother. Something…important," was all I could give her before I hurried from the courtyard, my dress swirling behind me. I didn't dare to look back – I knew she would be confused as to why I ran away, but right now that was all I needed to do. I made my way back up the steps and re-entered the bustling crowd of people. Now that I was back inside, I had no idea what I actually planned to do. I grabbed another drink off a passing tray, and headed for the main hall.

My mother found me sitting on a chair at the back of the room. I had neglected my wine and left it on a table long ago, not really in the mood to drink anymore. She looked me up and down and then held out her hand. She wanted me to get up. I just wanted to melt into the wood of the seat and not have to deal with this night at all. But her face told me there was no avoiding this. I stood up, and took her hand. She led me through the crowd to a group of men who were chatting cheerily among themselves. My father and Morys were among them, but Peter was still nowhere to be seen. A couple of ladies had the attention of some men, but other than that, they simply seemed to be laughing raucously and telling stories.

My mother pushed through, into the group to stand next to my father. She pulled me beside her and dropped my hand, which fell gracelessly to my side. I righted myself and clasped my hands in front of myself, like I had been taught. There was too much to remember when you were part of this society.

"Gentlemen, this is my daughter Santana, whom I was just telling you about." She gave them a winning smile and nudged me inconspicuously in the side. I smiled too.

"Good evening," I said civilly. I could see a few men looking at me appreciatively, which only caused my mother to smile wider.

"I'm sure she'd love to dance with some of you fine young men, wouldn't you dear?" She said, turning back to me.

I couldn't think of anything worse. "Of course, Mama," I said. I sounded sickeningly feminine. She was playing this for all it was worth – she would find me a husband if it was the last thing she did. I was sure of it.

One of the men held his hand out, wordlessly asking me to dance, and I accepted reluctantly. The orchestra was just striking up a new number, so we lined up with the other couples and began to dance. The man was nice enough, but clumsy and ungainly. I didn't enjoy dancing with him one bit. He stepped on the hem of my dress and knocked my elbow in the process of trying to apologise. He was suitably embarrassed, and I tried to placate him with murmurs of, 'it's perfectly fine, never mind,' and the likes. He seemed to get over it and we continued dancing without further difficulties other than his general incapability. I was extremely thankful when it ended, but before I knew it my mother sent me more partners, and I was swept up in a whirlwind of dances.

I was getting tired, and as the evening dragged on I found myself searching the crowd, for anyone or anything that could save me from the wearisome tirade of steps. Suddenly, I spotted Brittany watching me from across the room. Her eyes were following me as I was twirled about, but as soon as she saw me looking at her she turned away and went back to her conversation. That was odd. It gave me a strange tingling feeling to know she'd been watching me, something like… butterflies.

"Miss Lopez, are you okay?" My current partner had obviously noticed my distraction.

"Quite fine, yes," I trailed off, closing the conversation with a man who I had come to know as Mr Conteville. He was less clumsy than the others, but more conceited than all of them combined.

When the last dance finished, I almost ran from the ballroom and out into the foyer. I discreetly adjusted my dress, as it had moved a little during all that dancing. I spotted Peter back in the ballroom dancing with a young lady. He looked like he was having fun. I went to the powder room, where some ladies were chatting and applying powder. I did the same, fixing my hair and makeup so I didn't look quite so flustered. I pulled out a few strands at the back of my neck – just the way I liked it. Now I looked respectable again, I went back out to find my mother looking for me. "My dear we'd best be off, guests are beginning to leave and your father has to be away early tomorrow for business. Come and say goodbye to the Duke with us."

I let out a sigh of relief – this evening had been exhausting to say the least. By the time we reached the Duke, there seemed to be a lot less people in the hall than before. Oh, small mercies.

"Thank you, Your Grace. we all had a wonderful evening. The entertainment was exquisite, as was the company," my father said. He was an expert at diplomacy and could handle almost any social situation with grace. The rest of my family nodded in agreement. "We'll be sure to be in touch. I wish you and your family all the best. Good night." He turned to the Duchess and nodded.

Before I could leave, Brittany caught my eyes. She held my gaze, like before, and I felt the fluttering in my stomach start up again. "Good night, Miss Lopez." She was addressing me, and me only. I bowed my head respectfully and looked at her one last time before I turned around.

"Good night," I whispered as I walked away.

I could feel her eyes still on me as I retreated to the door. We got into the carriage and before I knew it, we were back home. I was suddenly about to drop from weariness. I went straight upstairs to my room, not caring for the calls of my mother and father as I did. I undressed slowly, put on my nightgown and slipped under the covers, relaxing into the warmth and comfort of the mattress. I closed my eyes, and laid my head on the pillow, willing the thoughts flying around inside my head to let up so I could get some sleep. As I drifted off, I had less control over my mind, and I couldn't stop the dreams that came. That night, I dreamt of her.