Darla shifted her weight uneasily, casting her gaze about in search of a friendly face. All the ladies had quickly dispersed into small circles, where they whispered and giggled, stopping now and then to throw a gaze across the room where the men served themselves punch. Why am I here? Darla asked herself in misery. But I mustn't let them know how much I feel like a goose.
She squared her shoulders and thrust her chin up, trying to look coolly detached as if she chose to stand friendless along the wall of the elegant ballroom. A cool breeze brushed across her cheek reassuringly, reminding her of home. She glanced towards its source-a lone window thrust open to provide some comfort in the somewhat stifling room. A violinist began to warm up, soon followed by the small orchestra. I believe a song shall start soon, and then…Said song was an energetic reel.
Darla breathed a small sigh of relief and edged herself towards the window then peered down. The drop was but a few feet. If only I weren't so very short! she lamented then glanced at the gay couples twirling with a swish of skirts. It was too much to risk that anyone should spot her. Perhaps, if I go very, very slowly… With difficulty, she arranged her skirts in a fashion that allowed her to sit precariously upon the sill. Grateful that huge, full skirts were in fashion, she eased her legs under them till they were hanging outside. With a final glance in the room, she slid off, only to land with a soft Oomph! on a rather thorny bush. Roses! She tentatively rose with an ominous Rippp. Quickly stumbling onto the soft grass, she investigated and looked with horror at the mess that once was her best dress. It was no use going back now, though.
Golden light spilled from the glittering ballroom, yet it paled in comparison to the splendor of the sunset painted across the sky. The first evening star twinkled merrily, and Darla smiled in spite of herself. She had grown up on a respectable estate with wide, rolling expanses of land yet proper decorum was not enforced in her childhood, for her mother was always ill and her father always busy with worry or business. Finally, when Darla was fifteen, Lady Ilena, her mother, breathed her last. The next year was tough, for her father slipped into a deep, untouchable depression that slowly ate away at him to the point that when faced with pneumonia the following winter, he gave up all too quickly.
Suddenly Darla was alone and unwanted by her noble relations. Lady Cornelia, though, took some pity for her and negotiated till a place was found at Marion Castle for her, through what means she knew not. She was now under the wings of a certain Lady Pamela who despaired of ever making a "lady" out of her. Oh, what shall she say when she sees me? Darla quickly pushed the thought away and gazed dreamily at the fading sunset. Her gaze wandered over the grounds and came to rest upon the gardens. She had yearned to explore them as she looked from her small window every night but was always told by a shocked Rosaline, one of Pamela's daughters, "Why, it simply isn't proper for a young lady to go about without a proper male escort in such places! She faces the danger of consumption." Why the presence of a male would ward away this mysterious "consumption" Darla did not know, but she did know that it was unlikely that she would ever secure a "proper male escort" so there was really no harm in going about alone.
The garden was an absolute maze though not like the others, which consisted of standard high ivy walls. The walls were generally of a pure white stone and dotted with flowers. Every nook of the maze revealed a new little plot with fragrant blossoms reaching upward toward the stars. Darla explored delightedly, till she came to a fountain. In the center was a statue of a graceful, slender fairy bending over a violet with a gentle kiss. Water tinkled and spilled over the petals into the pool below. The clearing was surrounded by a mixture of red and white roses in half bloom. With a small sigh, Darla sat down upon a granite bench but after a few misgivings settled for the cool cushion of grass below her, where she ran her fingers over the soft silk of petals.
She was awakened from her reverie when she heard the brushing of cloth against leaves and a muffled curse. A heavyset man around thirty strode into the clearing and his gaze fell upon her. Lord—Percy, was it?- smiled. "Ahhh, what is a young lady like yourself doing out here alone?"
Darla stood quickly. "Milord, I…well, you see…"
He interrupted her stuttering, "Don't bother with formalities. Percy will be fine." She nodded, wide-eyed, as he stepped closer. "So you're new to court, are you?" Another quick nod. "It's time you learned what court is. It's a race…a race for husbands. The competition is unparalleled. And you must know that you are not very good looking…"
Darla's gaze narrowed. "Excuse me?" her voice was icy. True, she was not astoundingly beautiful but to be informed of such a fact!
He laughed maliciously. "But don't think for a second that it bothers me." In an instant he had hold of her arm.
"Milord! I advise that you let go of me this instant!" She stepped back.
"Oh, feisty, are you?" She struggled, but soon found herself pinned against him.
"Let go of me!" She squirmed and kicked.
"I will, sweeti.."
"And don't you call me that!"
"And why not?"
Darla's heart thudded with horror. No, no, no! Oh, what shall poor Lady Pamela say?
"Lord Percy, let go of her this instant!" A voice thundered behind her.
Said lord straightened slowly, releasing Darla. She quickly stepped away, shaking with fear. "Why, if it isn't Alex. Darla, honey, this is Alex. He's a knight of the prince's."
"Don't call me honey," Darla gritted out.
Lord Percy looked apologetically at Alex, who was now scowling. "I advise you to listen to the lady if you value your life."
"Oh, but this is all a misunderstanding, you see! She was perfectly willing till caught, like most."
"That did not look 'perfectly willing' to me." Alex's voice was hard and he came to stand by Darla's side, causing her to sigh in relief. He was tall with light features. His deep blue eyes were darkened and firy. Lord Percy opened his mouth but Alex cut in, "I suggest that you leave now." Lord Percy looked ready to speak but thought better of it and with a small bow retreated.
"Oh," Darla breathed, turning to face her rescuer. "I cannot express how grateful I am to you. If you hadn't come when you did…"
"You're lucky that I saw the whole sliding-out-of-a window ordeal." There was a trace of humor in his voice. "Of all the things in the world! Why didn't you just take the door?"
"Door?" Darla echoed softly.
He laughed. "Yes, door! Most palaces do have them." At her blush he quickly said, "But I assume you're new to court?"
"Oh, yes! This is my first dance."
"Then I shall have to show you around. I'm sure you are pretty lonely. Who are you with?"
"Rosaline and Belinda."
He gave her a look of horror. "How do you stand them?"
"Oh, they aren't that bad," insisted Darla. "Rosaline is simply delicate and Belinda is…"
"The most terrible flirt to enter these gates?" offered Alex.
Darla smiled. "She is very boy friendly."
They kept up light conversation till they reached the palace, where Alex graciously pointed out the stairs leading to a small veranda with a French doors leading to the ballroom. He quickly introduced Darla to Prince William. She studied the ground as she swept a deep curtsey. "Good evening, Your Highness," she said demurely just as Lady Pamela had instructed.
He gave her a tired look. "You, too," and strode away.
"Why ever do you like him?" Darla blurted.
"He just gets...frustrated at times. You see, it is very taxing for him to be so…sought after. He really is a swell fellow when you get to know him," soothed Alex.
Darla raised a brow. "I'm sure."
The night proceeded merrily, with much talking and laughter and after the festivities Darla lay long in her bed, gazing out the window. Thoughts of a certain blond, tall lad slipped into her mind no matter how hard she tried to resist till she relented and with a smile thought of him till sleep claimed her.
Darla tripped cheerfully through the large halls of the palace for the first time the next morning, feeling that she finally had something to look forward to. When she entered the dining hall a quick appraisal proved Alex to be sitting between Prince William and Lady Katalina, but the seat in front of him was empty. She quickly sat in it and gave him a bright smile which he returned with a cool, "Good morning." Darla's brow lowered in confusion, and by the end of the meal she wondered if the previous night had been but a figment of her imagination.
She excused herself early and began walking dazedly back to her room when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Darla." It was Alex.
She turned questioningly with a touch of anger in her tone. "What was that? You acted as if you didn't even know me!"
"I'm sorry, darling, I forgot to explain." His eyes begged her to listen. "You see, at court, it doesn't take much to get people's tongues wagging. And I don't want them to talk that way about us, to hurt your reputation."
Darla softened. "I never even thought…why, thank you!" She smiled. "It's so fortunate that I met someone as kind as you!"
"Indeed…so what do you say to a bit of horseback riding?"
Delight spread over her features. "Lovely!"
The next few weeks proceeded in such a fashion till one night after a formal dinner Darla once again found herself by the fountain with Alex. She trailed her fingers in the cool water. "I never did thank you properly for introducing me to Carla. She's a dear." When she was not with Alex, one could generally find her and Carla furtively sneaking about the castle on some mission or another. They took an immediate liking to each other and discovered many similarities. There was but one point of dissension-Alex.
"Darla dear, he's no good for you. That Alex is an absolute rogue." Carla's soft brown eyes were worried.
Darla laughed lightheartedly. "Oh, if only you knew him! He's perfect and wonderful and if it weren't for him, I would still be slipping out windows at balls."
"He doesn't even dance with you."
She blushed before she could remind herself. It's for your own good. "He had his reasons, I'm sure."
Alex's voice broke into her reverie. "Anything for you, dearest." Her heart beat in a quick staccato as he stepped closer. "You know something?" he whispered. She shook her head slowly and froze when his lips touched hers softly for the slightest moment. "I love you," he finished.
Happiness bubbled over her heart. "I love you, too."
"Alex!" a harsh voice caused her to start. Turning, she saw the prince. He was undeniably good looking with thick dark hair and deep brown eyes which were now coolly appraising the pair. Glancing at Alex, Darla was surprised to see a guilty expression on his face. "I believe a certain Lady Dora is here to see you. You know of Dora, do you not, milady?" The latter was directed towards Darla.
"I-I can't say I do," she stumbled with a confused glance at Alex, who had begun to retreat.
"Goodbye, Darla." He took a last lingering look at her then left her alone with the prince.
"Prince William…" she started.
"Call me Will." He looked tired suddenly.
"If you insist." Polite formality left her voice and was replaced by indignation. "How could you ruin such a beautiful moment?"
He gave her a wary look. "You know not of Dora?"
"And who is this Dora?"
Taking her hand, he led her to the cool stone bench and pulled her to sit down next to him. "You like Alex?" Hesitantly, Darla nodded. "You shouldn't."
"Who I do or do not like is none of your concern."
"He's engaged," said William quickly.
"You-you jest." Darla searched his eyes for emotion. Regret, sympathy, pity (of all things), but no humor. "It cannot be! He-he said he loved me!"
"Darla, in court-"
She stood, flushed. "Don't you dare mention court in front of me! It makes me sick, just sick. Apparently in court deception is perfectly alright. Well, I don't want a bit of it. Not..one…bit." Tears gathered in her eyes, much to her horror. Why must he pity her?
Lady Pamela reasoned, "Do you have any idea how many girls would love to be in your position? You cannot possibly just leave…where would you go? The streets, to be a beggar girl? Nonsense, whatever happened, you're staying right here."
Thus, Carla found a weeping Darla curled up in her bed at noon the next day. The rumors she had heard were confirmed. Softly she moved to sit upon the bed and stroked Darla's hair. Just like my mother used to. The tears flowed harder. "So has he done it?" came Carla's gentle voice.
"Yes, and the prince was there, and it was a me-e-ess," gasped Darla, waiting for an I-told-you-so. But none came. "I hate it here. Why can't people just be honest?"
"Honey, I know it doesn't seem like it now, but there are a lot of honest nobles."
"Like who?"
"Well…the prince, for one." Darla groaned. "I know you don't like him for whatever reason, but he's quite kind. I think he was just like that because he thought you were just another of Alex's pets." Carla bit back her tongue, but it was too late.
Darla turned to face her. "Another?"
Carla hesitated. "I thought you knew that Alex was a rogue."
"A pet. I'm a pet."
"No! You're just innocent. Don't worry, luckily not many people knew about you two in the first place. They'll forget about it the next time Rosaline has one of her fainting spells in front of the prince or Belinda falls into the punch bowl."
Darla smiled. "You're right. They probably will."
"And you will find someone ever so much nicer than Alex."
Darla's expression darkened. "No, I shall never marry. I've had enough of the male species to last me a lifetime." At Carla's frown, she soothed, "Don't worry about me, honey. I wasn't born to quit."
Thus, contrary to the predictions of many a matron, Darla appeared at the breakfast table next morning bright and early, though perhaps she did not present the most cheerful appearance-her smile was strained and her face pale. Alex didn't meet her gaze at his place beside the Lady Dora. She was a sweet little thing-blonde and petite with roses in her cheeks. Somehow it was impossible to dislike her. The glances Darla gave her were more sympathy than anything else.
Will regarded Darla appraisingly; somehow she just didn't seem like a girl who was used to men like Alex. She did seem a bit brainless at the ball, he admitted to himself, but yesterday it seemed like there was a bit of spirit about her, after all. He soon found, though, after a few unsuccessful attempts at conversation, that she was not at all interested in him or anyone else for that matter. She ate her biscuits doggedly, staring out the window, content to be in her own world. He wondered what she thought of that caused a smile to curve her lips then leave just as suddenly when she snapped back to reality. She mechanically excused herself from breakfast, and Will followed suit, rushing to the hall. He stopped abruptly. She stood at the large window opposite the grand mahogany doors leading to the dining room, her head tipped. He thought she was simply thinking till he saw her shoulders shake as a muffled sob escaped her lips. He hesitated, wondering whether he should follow his natural impulse and comfort her, and in that moment she fled out the main doors of the palace. Moving to the window, he watched a slight figure in pale pink move towards the stables.
Darla ran, gasping in the fresh air to clear her head. This is silly! she told herself firmly. However are you going to survive at the palace if you can't even look at him? Soon, though, the warm air of the stable engulfed her, a mix of hay, oats, leather, and manure. She walked till she stood before a placid mare chewing her oats as she surveyed Darla. "Muffin," crooned Darla. "I saved you some carrots from breakfast."
"Muffin" was a tired old thing, short and lazy. Rosaline often admonished, "A lady should have a tall and graceful mare, as purely white as driven snow." Muffin was dotted brown, black, and white like an overgrown mutt. But she had been Darla's first horse-the one Lady Ilena had set a squealing young girl upon with soothing reassurances. Darla smiled fondly as she led a reluctant Muffin to be saddled for the first time in weeks. (Alex had insisted that she use a younger, fresher horse.) "Now where is that saddle?" murmured Darla half to herself. In the storage space at the door of the stables, it was hung on a high hook. Darla stood on her toes, stretched, and jumped to no avail. She stomped her foot impatiently. "Why must I be so short!"
"Is it this one?" A voice came from behind her as a finger pointed at the old leather saddle.
She turned with a nod and a grateful smile that faded when she saw the man before her. "Prince William, I thought you were eating…"
"Will," he corrected. "And I…" decided to come running after you "finished quite a while ago." He lifted the saddle with ease, forcing a grin from Darla.
"You've no idea how lucky you are." She reached to take the saddle from him but he laid it upon Muffin's back and insisted upon saddling her up, despite a flustered Darla's vain protests. After a seeming eternity, he finished and she breathed a hurried thank you before swinging lightly onto the saddle.
"Aren't you going to wait for me?" called Will from a few stalls away.
"Wait for you?" echoed Darla dumbly.
"Of course. You wouldn't expect me to do all that without any reward?"
Darla laughed in spite of herself. "I would hardly consider riding with me a reward."
"It is for me," Will said lightly, though he was troubled. Darla was not beautiful, yet one seldom realized it when around her. She had a sweet charm bred of innocence and simple goodness.
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