5. Save the Last Dance

Purple and yellow balloons nearly covered the dance floor, while matching streamers lined the walls and chandeliers burned brightly with the help of a million tiny little candles. Evelyn had brought her own dress from school, though she'd had to sneak it past her father's servants, who certainly would have disapproved. It was black to match the plain face mask she wore, off one shoulder and cinched tightly up the side, which gave way to a dramatic diagonal hem that floated nearly to the floor. It seemed to be having a good effect on most of the young men in the ballroom, though one Evelyn would have just as readily have gone without.

Evelyn groaned inwardly at the thought of dancing with an endless stream of pathetic young suitors who had only the thought of her title in mind. And, perhaps, the privilege that came with being the last to dance with any lady in attendance. It was an old Capulet tradition, but one that Evelyn knew she would banish when she ruled, for the agony it placed on her was acute. For as long as anyone living could remember, the young man who filled the last spot on a lady's dance card was awarded with a kiss.

Her only hope, indeed, her most desperate wish, was that perhaps those blue eyes would be in attendance. But first, she had to contend with Beni Parris.

"Really, I run the show," he was saying in that sniveling little voice of his. "My father doesn't have too many marbles up here anymore," he said, tapping his head. "Know what I mean?"

Evelyn realized she felt the urge to scream, and quickly turned the impulse into a sigh, but a discreet one. "You couldn't be clearer, Mr. Parris."

"Please." He leaned forward, displaying each and every one of his yellowed teeth beneath the red mask that covered the upper half of his face. "Call me Beni."

She fought a shudder to think of what the rest of his face must look like minus the mask. "I, uh, I wonder if you might get me some punch? I'm dying of thirst."

Beni nodded eagerly and scurried off in search of refreshment for the princess. Finally, rid of him! she congratulated herself. Now, if only she could keep avoiding him until she could get out of here. Her only regret for the evening (besides being forced to spend it with Beni Parris) was that she had not spotted that charming face which had so haunted her since that morning...

The band began to play again, Evelyn's heart sank as she realized it was the last song. As she looked up she saw Beni, who had spotted her in the crowd and was making a beeline for her. Trying not to seem too conspicuous, but desperate to get away, she wove her way through the various couples that packed the dance floor, hoping to lose Beni in the chaos. After a few moment she chanced a look behind her. He was still following her!

In Evelyn's distraction she did not notice the man beside her until he'd swept her from the sidelines and onto the dance floor. Any thoughts of Beni Parris were immediately lost as she met his eyes. The sight of her dance partner took her breath away.

He wore a white mask, but she'd know those eyes anywhere. Two sapphire gems gleamed from behind the whiteness of the mask, and they twinkled as they had something mischievous in mind.

"You seem to be much sought after as a dance partner tonight," he said, and she fell immediately in love with the sound of his voice.

"Not me. My name."

He twirled her away for a moment, and when she stepped back to his embrace she found herself quite a bit closer to him. "Then I shall not ask it," he said, "for your very presence is close enough to heaven for a mere mortal."

While normally Evelyn might have been put off by the man's forwardness, she found herself too lost in that enchanting smile to care. And even better, he didn't know who she was, or claimed he did not. The very thought that someone might be interested in her rather than her father...

Evelyn's very next thought was that he filled the last spot on her dance card, and that at the dance's end...

Whoever he was, he was an excellent dancer, and though Evelyn had always felt somewhat clumsy on the dance floor, tonight she felt as though she were dancing through the sky. As he held her close, Evelyn attempted to memorize everything about the man. His eyes were easy enough, though the fleeting glimpse she'd had that afternoon of his entire face had been entirely too brief. His hair was a delicious golden color and held a faint hint of some fragrance she could not quite pin. He was quite a bit taller than her, but enveloped in his strong embrace Evelyn had the sensation of feeling completely safe, as if no harm could come to her whilst in his arms. As a costume he had chosen to dress all in white, which might have looked ridiculous on any other man, but somehow it only fueled Evelyn's imagination. Her white knight, come to save her from a dreary royal existence...

The last strains of the song echoed all throughout the ballroom. Evelyn's dance partner pulled her away from the crowd as they applauded the band. He wove his way through decorations and pillars till they stood in a shadowy corner. The distant noise of the crowd seemed muted as they stood removed from the reality of the dance floor.

"I believe it is an old tradition in this house," he said, "that the last gentleman on a lady's dance card is rewarded with a kiss."

"Will you claim your prize, then?" she asked, her head suddenly spinning with the faint feel of his hands as they caressed her face.

"How can I claim a goddess such as yourself as my own, when I don't even have the courage to ask your name?"

"Then I give you permission, so you will not feel guilty about such a trivial thing as a single kiss."

"Trivial?" His smile was somehow softer as he continued to hold her gaze, and something in his own look sent chills up her spine. "How can it be trivial when I fear it may be my doom?"

"Let's find out, shall we?"

Permission granted, gentle fingers pulled her mask up and over her face, and she did the same to him. Disguises discarded, they were finally free to regard the faces which had so tormented each of them since that first fateful glimpse. Then, instead of the customary kiss on the cheek, he leaned forward and placed his lips on hers, first hesitantly, then with more resolve as neither party seemed to have any objections to the direction the kiss was going.

Rick was sure he had to be dreaming. This just didn't happen, to him of all people. Of course, once she found out who he actually was, she'd run screaming the other way if she had any sense. If she did stick around, it would only be because of the money, because of the status; it would have nothing to do with him. He knew this, and yet he had never felt so adamantly that he had to be wrong. Not this girl, she had to be different, she was different...

"Evelyn!" someone yelled from above their heads, and the girl leapt away from him as if she'd been burned.

"Oh, I, I have to go," she stammered. "I'm sorry."

Evelyn? Wait... "Evelyn? Is that your name, Evelyn?..."

She looked as though she were deciding the wisdom of answering this question when the call came again, closer this time. "Evelyn! Get up here!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I have to go." Despite her words, however, she kissed him once more, crushing her body against his in a last ditch effort to make a moment last, for she knew she'd probably never see him again. She finally broke the kiss, but he held on to her, refusing to her go.

"Your name is Evelyn?" he asked. Around the eyes, she almost looked like...

"Yes."

What he suspected was now concrete fact, and the knowledge made it hard to breathe. Imagine, the son of Jonathan Montague in love with a Capulet princess. It couldn't happen. "I'm never going to see you again, am I?"

Evelyn slowly shook her head, no. "I can't. I'm sorry." She drew out his arms reluctantly, regretfully, held there by those blue eyes and the conviction in them. "I'm sorry," she repeated, then turned and ran pell-mell for the stairway before she changed her mind.

At the top of the stairs Evelyn nearly ran into her cousin. Lock was a tall, imposing figure with muscles that rippled underneath his skin tight, revealing costume, curiously matched for the evening with a red turban. His character was disreputable to say the least, but Evelyn's father had always trusted him, and had always counted on Lock to look after his little girl.

"Lock!" Evelyn cried. "Where have you been?"

He began to pull her down the hallway and away from the general party. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed, shaking her arm more roughly than he had the right to. The combination of Lock's unusual behavior and her experiences that evening had dazed Evelyn enough that she could not reply for the life of her. Lock continued, "I saw you dancing with that Montague kid, Evelyn."

Though her mind was still distraught with thoughts of her mysterious dance partner, Evelyn was confused enough at Lock's statement to answer this time. "Montague? Why would a Montague be here? I didn't dance with--"

"I want you to stay away from him. He's dangerous. You are never to go near Rick Montague again, do you hear me?"

While some part of her would have liked to protest to her cousin's superiority complex, she was too busy putting the pieces together in her head. The man's disbelief at the revelation of her name, the horrible light of realization in his eyes... Her dance partner, her knight in shining armor, he was a Montague. And not just any Montague. Rick Montague, heir to the Montague empire and son of her father's worst enemy. Perhaps the only thing worse would be to shoot her father in the head, for that death would be much quicker than the broken heart he would suffer if he learned of her actions. She had betrayed her father and her family and she could never see Rick Montague again...

But it didn't matter who he was. It only mattered that she loved him.

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