Part Eight
In spite of the short notice, the Betrothal Ball was very elaborate. The ballroom was filled with flower arrangements and greenery, so much so that it appeared to be a conservatory or bower, and the scent was intoxicating. The wives of the married Parliamentarians had picked out the music and even now, soft strains were spilling out into the twilight. The moon was rising over the garden. It was a beautiful night.
Clarisse, alone for the first time in hours after Olivia and Priscilla had finished helping her dress, leaned carefully against her bedroom door and closed her eyes as she tried to gather strength for the evening ahead. She had had no appetite all day, and consequently had eaten little. She wondered if that had been a mistake, as she felt a little light-headed now. She hadn't seen Charlotte or Joseph since the early hours of the morning, and she desperately wanted to see both. Olivia had volunteered the information that Charlotte had been occupied all afternoon with Sheila Motaz, going over the final details for the ball. Clarisse had not had the nerve to ask about Joseph.
After coming back to her own room this morning, Clarisse had fallen asleep almost instantly. When Priscilla had managed to awaken her a few hours later, Clarisse had started to wonder if she had really just been dreaming about Charlotte's revelations, and ... and Joseph's kisses. Then she had touched her still-tender lips, and had known that it had not been a dream. It had been a wonderfully sweet interlude, but now ...
Clarisse trembled slightly and pressed her hands on the door in an attempt to steady her nerves, feeling the fear coiling inside her again. It had not been completely banished. In fact, it was almost worse. Now the thought of being married to ANYONE but Joseph was unbearable. What was she going to do? Why had she told Parliament she would go through with this? Was there any way out, at this late date?
A knock came at the door of her suite, and Clarisse heard Olivia's voice answering the deeper voice of Lord Palimore. The time had obviously come. Feeling as if she were going to her own funeral rather than to a ball, Clarisse took a deep breath, drew her protective shell around herself and walked out of her room as the elegant, composed Queen of Genovia. After so many years, she had perfected the ability to bury her private feelings beneath a veneer which could fool all but the most discerning observer.
"Your Majesty," Lord Palimore bowed, and his wife curtseyed, "we are to escort you to the ball."
"Thank you," Clarisse said simply. She was as ready as she ever would be.
As they approached the ballroom doors, Clarisse saw Joseph standing correctly beside Charlotte. Keeping her eyes carefully averted from theirs, Clarisse smiled and said lightly, "Good evening."
They nodded and backed away as the footmen opened the doors and as Clarisse entered the ball room with Lord and Lady Palimore a couple of steps behind, she retreated still further behind her facade of in-control poise. Prime Minister Motaz greeted her and the music began. The two moved in their customary dance, signifying the opening of the ball. Clarisse was vaguely aware that Sebastian was studying her closely as they twirled to the music, but she found she couldn't relax enough to even exchange the usual pleasantries with him. For his part, he realized very quickly that she had withdrawn behind a protective barrier impossible to penetrate.
For the next hour, Clarisse danced with an unending stream of men, old and young, graceful and not. She was vaguely aware of dancing more than once with the Viscount, who was attempting to be genial for the occasion, but he made no impression on her inner sensibilities. She knew she was moving rather like an automaton, displaying a perfect exterior but empty, with no depth and no warmth. Her conversation was minimal, her eyes never stayed long in one place, and it was almost as if she were in a trance. Joseph was standing by the door all through the evening, watching her. Clarisse was hardly aware of him through the haze of pain wrapped around her, knowing that once more she would have to turn him away and bury any dreams of being with him. Were she to marry someone else, she would lose Joseph as a friend as well as a lover, she was well aware of that. Even though it had taken her so long to realize that she DID harbour deeper feelings for him, they were no less strong because of the brevity of time. Again and again the anguished questions pounded through her, 'WHY must I marry again? WHY is Parliament making me do this? How can I be strong enough to accept their ruling?'
After dancing with so many men, trying to listen with a polite smile as they assured her of their undying devotion and stepped on her feet, she was almost at a screaming point. Surely enough was enough! The final straw came when Baron von Troken cut in on her dance with Mr. Hiller, blatantly propositioning her with a leer even though his wife was sitting not ten feet away. Uncaring of protocol, Clarisse abruptly stopped dancing and stepped back from him, her icy veneer more pronounced than ever.
Sebastian Motaz and his wife were at her side immediately, having been alerted by an ever-observant Charlotte, and Sheila coaxed the queen to take a bit of a break and have a drink while Sebastian spoke severely to the Baron and suggested rather strongly that the evening was over for him. As they stood at the edge of the dance floor, Clarisse said bitterly to the Motaz' that she felt as if she were on auction as a prize for the highest bidder.
The Viscount Mabrey, who had been standing just behind her unnoticed, chuckled a trifle maliciously and said, "On the contrary, your Majesty, I would say rather it is the other way around, all the eligible men are parading past you, each one hoping you will pick him as your knight on a white charger ..." Then, seeing Joseph bearing down on their little group with a warning glint in his eye, the Viscount melted back into the crowd.
Clarisse watched as her Head of Security changed direction and smoothly evaded couples on the dance floor in pursuit of the Viscount to make sure the man was leaving the palace. She felt herself sway a little, and now caught Charlotte's eye. Charlotte looked her sympathetically for a second before averting her gaze, and in moments Clarisse overheard her speaking worriedly to Sheila Motaz, saying that Queen Clarisse had been getting paler and paler as the night progressed and indicating the parchment-like quality of the queen's face. Clarisse clenched her fists for a moment, praying for more strength and hoping that perhaps now this seemingly interminable evening might be brought to a close.
After his wife passed on Charlotte's insight, Sebastian spoke to the majordomo who called for silence in order for the Prime Minister to make an announcement. "This Betrothal Ball is now officially at an end. The queen will have time to make her choice known before Parliament tomorrow afternoon. Do feel free to stay for a last dance or two."
Most of the people in the crowd began to leave. Clarisse, with Sheila and Sebastian Motaz at her side, stood near the door and tried to respond gracefully to the comments about the lovely night, how difficult a decision it must be for her, how nice the Viscount had been and wasn't it wonderful since he was reportedly highest in the running. Clarisse felt her throat tighten at that last comment, which unfortunately she heard time and again. Surely fate would not be cruel enough to saddle her with a husband such as the Viscount Mabrey!
"Your Majesty, perhaps we could share a final dance tonight while my wife and Charlotte supervise the cleanup?" Sebastian held out his hand to Clarisse.
Despite her extreme exhaustion, both mental and physical, Clarisse felt she owed the Prime Minister. She allowed herself to be led back onto the dance floor. For a moment they danced in silence and complete accord.
"I'm AM sorry you were subjected to this evening, your Majesty," he said, in a low voice. "If it is any consolation, you did splendidly. I am proud to have you as our queen, and I know you will be the best possible model for your grand-daughter."
"Thank you," Clarisse murmured.
"I must warn you, though," Sebastian continued, "the Viscount's impeccable behaviour tonight has now strengthened his chances for Parliament to approve his suit ..."
As Clarisse felt whatever colour she had left in her face drain out, suddenly Joseph was there, tapping Sebastian on the shoulder. Looking a trifle surprised, then understanding, Sebastian smiled and bowed out, saying he needed to help his wife anyway. Clarisse automatically fell into step with Joseph, her eyes searching his as they circled the floor.
"You look beautiful tonight, my darling," he murmured at last, "although tonight's emotions are nothing at all the same as they were when I first saw you wearing this lovely dress. I am so glad you have left off wearing black ..."
Clarisse tried to smile, but felt a wrenching sensation and wondered how a heart could break so many times and still leave a woman standing. Correctly interpreting her look, Joseph smoothly guided her out onto the terrace as they danced, away from the others. They continued their dance in the moonlight until the song ended.
When the music stopped and the next song started, they moved over to the balustrade and looked up at the stars and the full moon high in the sky. Joseph was being exceedingly circumspect, carefully not touching her although she stood so near him. Clarisse was feeling confused and overwhelmed as she remembered his kisses that very morning. The exhaustion she felt was finely etched on her face, but she did not want to leave him. Not yet. This would be the last night she could be alone with him. Tomorrow, she would be betrothed to someone else, and would no longer be free to linger, and dream.
Joseph broke the silence suddenly. "It's almost a full moon tonight."
"But not a blue moon," Clarisse murmured. "You know, when there are two in a month? Something Rupert said once about a blue moon being a symbol of sadness and loneliness in some songs made me realize that he took a turn for the worse in July of 1996, when there was a second full moon. The next blue moon was just this past March ... when Philippe was killed ... I must admit, I would have thought THIS would be the perfect time in my life for another blue moon!"
"Popular legend has it that any full moon brings out the worst in people. There tends to be more violence, more suicides, more accidents, and more aggression around this time. Even the word lunatic comes from the Latin word for moon."
Clarisse shivered as the thought of the Viscount crossed her mind. She said, "That must be why that snake of a man has been so horrible the last few days! Joseph, did I ever thank you properly for what you did to him the other day? In spite of everything tonight, I noticed the puffiness around his eye and the makeup which was beginning to cake and flake off, showing the growing bruise beneath. If ever there was a lunatic, he is one!"
"When you left me this morning, and then did not call for me any time today, I thought you were ... sorry ... you had succumbed to the early hours, your tiredness ... that I had been too forward ..." he said quietly.
She shook her head almost violently. "No, it wasn't any of that. The truth is, Joseph ... I'm ... scared," she admitted in a small voice.
"I scare you?"
"No, not you!" she gave an impatient wave of her hand. "Not you, precisely, although certainly the feelings you arouse in me are frightening. No, it's just that, well, I'm simply not good at this whole, complicated, man-woman relationship ..."
"Maybe you just need some practice," was the soft comment.
Clarisse smiled sadly, and leaned on the balustrade. "I suppose I should thank Parliament then, for making sure I will get the practice ... five years minimum of practice."
"Sounds like a jail sentence."
"Sometimes I think maybe it is," she sighed.
"So it is marriage that scares you?"
"It wouldn't if it was a marriage with the right man." She carefully did not look at him.
"I see." He was silent for a moment, then, putting his arms around her and drawing her closer, he added, "I've heard that the influence of the moon on human behaviour has been called the Lunar Effect or the Transylvania Effect. The belief that the full moon causes mental disorders and strange behaviour was widespread throughout Europe in the middle ages. At the time of each full moon, it is as if a doorway is opened between the sun and the moon, heightening awareness. It seems as though the full moon can perform wonders."
Clarisse leaned back on him, holding his arms in place as she turned her face to his. "Are you saying you're really a werewolf and the full moon only makes you appear to be a man?" she teased gently, her voice husky with her desire.
He chuckled, then said huskily, "No, I'm saying it's a miracle that you are here, in my arms. It is a wonder that I intend to enjoy to the best of my ability."
"Oh, Joseph ..." Clarisse sighed as she turned in his arms, her hand cupping his cheek tenderly.
"I believe we should pick up where we left off this morning ..." he said softly, drawing closer still.
His lips softly grazed her cheek. At that tender touch, her entire body suddenly became inflamed with the need to feel again those warm lips upon her own. Beyond reason, she forgot everything and pulled his mouth to hers. It was wild and tense as their lips met and then became demanding, exacting a response which was easily given.
Then he withdrew his lips ever so slightly from hers with excruciating slowness, catching her lower lip between his teeth and tugging gently. "You are NOT going to marry Mabrey," his husky comment was made against her lips. "Never. He will never touch you like this, Clarisse. You are mine. MINE, do you hear?"
"Oh, yes, Joseph!" her heart-felt words died beneath his fiery kisses.
Sebastian and Sheila Motaz interrupted them with a loud series of coughs. Clarisse drew back from Joseph, her face flushing.
Sebastian grinned. "I'd say the queen has made known HER choice for a husband. The rest is up to Parliament. Good night, your Majesty. Joseph." and the two were gone.
"Your Majesty?" Charlotte was hovering in the doorway. "Do you and Joseph wish to dance any more, or should Shades and I ...?"
"You may remain if you wish, Charlotte, but I am going to retire now. Thank you." Clarisse said softly.
"Charlotte, I saw you with Shades tonight. You know, he really doesn't like to dance overmuch," Joseph grinned.
Charlotte flushed and hurried away without another word.
Clarisse looked in some surprise at Joseph who offered her his arm silently. "Charlotte ... and SHADES? WHO is Shades?"
When her hand slipped into it, he covered her fingers with his and said, "A very handsome security guard who is my second-in-command, and who would be good for Charlotte. Had I not embarrassed Charlotte so thoroughly, she would have walked with us to your rooms, and I wanted you to myself tonight."
"Feeling selfish, are you?" Clarisse teased him gently, smiling.
"You have no idea ..." was his loving response.
With each step, the tension between them grew. Clarisse was hungry for him, and it seemed forever before they reached her rooms. The footman opened the door for her, and she turned to Joseph, the entreaty in her eyes obvious only to him.
He smiled, "Have a good night, your Majesty," he said, circumspectly kissing her hand. Then he winked.
Her breath caught, and she barely breathed, "I certainly hope so," before stepping into her room and the door swung closed. She held her breath. Only moments passed, then the door opened again and Joseph slipped inside, closing it quietly behind him.
"I sent him to check something around the corner," he whispered, his hands pulling her close to him again. "I hope you don't mind, your Majesty." Their mouths met with furious urgency, then he murmured against her lips, "Let's try a bed this time."
OoOoOoOoOo
As she basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Joseph held her and murmured lavish praise in her ear, and Clarisse had a sense of sanctuary, a sense of safety and belonging that went far beyond the physical. Contentment stole over her as she marvelled at how rich her life had been and was with Joseph in it. Worries about her life beyond tomorrow had flown, and as her eyes closed, she relaxed completely for the first time in years and welcomed the respite from the dilemmas of the unknown future. Her body closely entwined with his, they slept.
To be continued ...