She was as though a shooting star fallen from the night sky, for she was bathed in a golden hue that demanded the attention of every wandering eye. A breathless vision, a wonder that glided across the ballroom with ease, as a trail of gold beaded lace brushed behind her heels. Her presence was like that of a well kept secret. For she found peace in silence, making her way through the bustle of the ton without so much as a single murmur slipping from her tight lipped smile and yet, everyone couldn't help but pine for the chance to converse with her. A curiosity following her as though a trail her footsteps left behind on the glittering ballroom floor, gentlemen left to daydream of the mysteries this magical woman might be carrying upon her elegant shoulders. But as Simon Basset watched her with a keen eye from across the room, feeling the shadow of a smirk beginning to hover above the edges of his stilled lips, he felt an odd sensation of pride bubbling in the core of his chest, from the undisputable knowledge that he was the only soul in the room that knew every last secret she kept locked inside of herself.
Bringing the smooth gold rim of the champagne flute to the edge of his lips, Simon tore his sight away from her glimmering presence. Forcing his attention anywhere but the path that had seemed to part, allowing a breathless beauty through the vibrant and vivacious mass of couples dancing and decked out debutants searching for any eligible man to sweep them off their feet. Feeling the bubbling rush of liquid streaming down his throat, as he sipped from his third refill in the last hour, Simon had rather hoped he'd manage to fade into the background.
For the music was in full swing, not a single corner or crevice left unscathed by the boisterous hum of soft melodies and energetic rhythms. He'd been bombarded by pestering mothers parading their less than desirable daughters in front of him, for what he could no longer count as the umpteenth time this season as the final ball came inching towards a close. He'd been chatted up by acquittances he couldn't honestly admit he'd miss when he departed London later in the week. Although he did rather enjoy a few moments of light banter with Anthony Bridgerton and his brothers before they became swept into the activities, more or less dragged by their endearing mother as a last ditch effort on her part this season to play matchmaker. Everything he'd expected and had suffered through for more balls than he wanted to admit, had presented themselves right on cue, leaving Simon to feel as though he could simply fade into the background until the ball came to an end.
But as his fingers gently placed his now empty champagne glass down against the table to his right, Simon felt it. Her presence, an overwhelming, unequivocal void that settled over his flesh, like that of a cool wind in the middle of summer when a rainstorm began to roll in. For the finest hairs on the back of his neck stood at alert as his nerve endings burned with the knowledge that she was a mere foot or two behind him now. If his body hadn't possessed a twisted sixth sense when she grew to be in his close proximity, the intoxicating sweetness that emanated from her skin would have been enough to tell him she was near. For the lightest floral notes of delicate rose petals melded with the clean scent of soap, a faint aroma to most only noticed in a close embrace or blow of the wind against her exposed flesh. But to Simon, it was a scent that burned his lungs and made his chest expand in a greedy inhale all in the very same breath. He knew as she made her way towards him, that the invisibility he had craved from the evening was now completely lost. But there was something within the notion that it was her seeking him out, that filled his chest with an unnerving sensation. It replaced the exasperation with a feeling he couldn't quite describe and he feared to even begin to name.
Sweeping his tongue along the suddenly dry feel of his lips, Simon swallowed a deep breath before turning slowly on his heel to face her. He knew, as his eyes landed upon her seemingly glowing face in the surrounding reflecting glint of light, that she knew full well she didn't need to call out to him. She didn't need to murmur his name, address him clearly to attain his attention, she knew something within him would be alerted to her presence the second she approached him. She did not play coy to the action, nor did she find an arrogant pride in the notion, rather she regarded it as a simple fact of life. He would always know when she was near, just as she always seemed to know the moment his eyes found her from across a crowded room.
She had always been beautiful, Simon admitted, but tonight, she was utterly radiant. For every inch of her sparkled with a strength he'd only ever seen grasped within the clear view of a starlit countryside sky. Her hair, thin strands tightly bound into neat tendrils, was pulled back from her neck and twisted up into a nest of silk like curls perfectly pinned back. Delicately topped with a sweep of diamonds upon a band that disappeared into her curls, as though the jewels themselves floated within her silken strands. Her dress bathed her in a golden hue that he felt resembled the bright pierce of the fresh morning sun, the very first beam of light breaking through the darkness of night. Bold and blinding as it swept across the sky in a marigold hue that warmed the world below in it's fresh glow.
Simon couldn't help the way his eyes wandered over her figure that was almost emphasized by the intricate fitting of her gown, the way each embroidered strand of fabric flowed down her body whilst somehow managing to amplify the parts of her frame modesty begged to keep hidden. Her hands hidden away in the palest of white silk gloves, reaching just above her elbows. The end of the gloves and the cut of her dress, leaving her shoulders all but bare to the air around them. The neckline of her gown dipped downward in a tight hold, allowing view of her collarbone and the extravagant necklace adorned of glimmering diamonds laying perfectly centered against her flesh.
But what shone the brightest, were her eyes. She could be wearing the most breathtaking of jewels, the brightest silks in the most elegant of shades, but none of them would ever come close to comparing to the orbs that stared back at him. The ones that Simon swore stole the stars from the sky. For the hue that consumed them held a depth that completely overwhelmed her sight, unable to look at her face without seeing the color that held her gaze so securely and yet, in the very corner of her irises, a twinkle of silver sparkled. No matter the light surrounding them, no matter the time of day or night or hour in the fresh break of morning, that twinkle of silver shone like her own personal north star. Simon noticed it the very first time they met, unnervingly swept into the startlingly awing sight he had never seen before in the simplicity of one's gaze and he knew he was destined never to forget it no matter how hard to tried.
"Perhaps it is a bit uncouth of me to approach with what is typically a man's inquiry," His eyes broke from their steady entrapment in her gaze, dropping his attention to her faintly tinted lips, a pinkish hue spreading outwards towards the very corners, as they parted with her delicately spoken words. Her voice that of a soft flow, a melodic trickle of a gentle stream. "but I wondered if perhaps you might like to have one last dance with me this evening?"
He should have said no. The part of Simon's mind that held his better judgement blared as though a siren at the tops of its lungs, screaming the right answer into his ear. But in a split moment, a second of pure impulsiveness, the strings of his heart moved him as though he himself was a puppet dancing by their reigns, his lips parting with a simple answer.
"Of course," His head tilted forward as though to extend his gracious acceptance of her sudden inquiry. "I should only hope that you have a space remaining on that card of yours."
Simon couldn't miss the way the very corners of her lips twitched lightly, as though they wanted nothing more than to twist upwards into one of her soft smiles, but she pressed her lips together before they had the opportunity to escape her. "For you, there shall always be a space available."
Keeping his lips flat just as she held her own, Simon refused the urges of his own sly smile threatening to break through the surface. Swallowing down the action, as he swiftly wrote his name across one of the spaces remaining on her dance card that hung around her wrist. It was hardly their first dance together this season, however as Simon took hold of her gloved fingers that gingerly slid into the palm of his hand, something about this one felt different.
As their feet guided them towards the center of the ballroom, forcing him out of the shadows of the safe corners and into the exposed light of the ton, the strong melody of the violins encircled them as a new song began to play. Couples twirled around them dancing just as they were, perhaps with a bit more nervousness and intrigue with their new acquaintances than they did, but nonetheless, Simon felt as though they looked like every other pair dancing. But he knew better than anyone how deceiving appearances could be, and the elegance and grace in which they began to dance like all of the rest, covered up a pair drowning in heartache and regrets.
"You are to leave London later this week, is that correct?" Her voice spoke up softly, her words floating against his ear as he could sense her unease in her sudden need to make light conversation. His hand tightened gently against the lace of her dress, the placement of his fingers pressing firmly against the space hovering just above the small of her back and as though she could feel the increased pressure in his gentle touch, Simon felt her own fingers tense against their spot on his shoulder.
"That is correct," Simon confirmed with a stiff nod, his eyes glancing against hers during his response before darting away when her gaze fluttered upward through the dense sprawl of her lashes. "and you are to be departing for your home in Somerset this evening if I recall correctly?"
Simon knew that he recollected her departure without flaw, for he could feel in every movement they made, every breath they inhaled, every sharp glance of their meeting eyes, that it was the suffocating blanket of imminence that lingered over them. He knew full well that it was the reason she sought him out tonight and as much as he loathed to acknowledge it, Simon knew that her impending departure from London had been the reason for his agreeance to one last dance with her here tonight.
She hummed her response softly, watching as her head bobbed with a confirming nod. But as her gaze lifted as it had before, peaking through the curtain of long lashes in a timid glance, Simon held his gaze. A conscious effort on his part or rather an involuntary reaction, he couldn't say with certainty. But as he found himself staring at the glittering rare star lost in the swirl of her irises, he found no need to divert his gaze. Something in the sight of her stare, the beauty in her face that was gifted with the perfection of a porcelain doll, steadied him in a way that brought forth feelings of both unease and calm at the very same time.
His hand tightened against her back, feeling the embellishments of her gown pressing against the flesh of his palm, undoubtfully leaving reddened imprints in their wake. But as the music thundered around them, the intensity spoken within the strings rising as was the pressure inside of his chest, Simon felt himself stilled in her presence. The world around them almost seeming to disappear into the background, melting together as though shimmering runs of a watercolor. Those who danced around them were suddenly imperceptible, the ton who remained watching from every corner of the ballroom faded from his view, the exquisite surroundings blurred into mere flashes of light amongst an overwhelming golden brass hue. The only remaining sight left clear to his eye, was held tightly in the embrace of his arms right in front of him.
She too, had not stolen away her steady gaze, instead keeping it locked with his own as though their eyes clicked together like some sort of key. The light that consumed an orangish hue, reflected against the glint of her eyes, making the gloss of her sight seen as she gazed up at him. The light sheen that sparkled as though the moon shone against the smooth ripple of a creek, brightening her soft whispered expression. Her pink tinted lips remained still in the steady line, giving away no such clues to her thoughts, but her eyes had never been up to the task.
For it hadn't taken him very long after their first introduction, before Simon was able to read nearly every emotion that flashed itself within the depths of her eyes. It was a useful power he soon learned, as her preference for silence grew to be an irritant in certain situations, but it could also be damning Simon realized. For as much as he yearned to know every thought that ran through her head, every emotion that clutched to her chest, he realized that not every emotion that flashed in the depths of her orbs was one he wanted to see her endure. The notion had never been clearer to him, than the day he caught sight of a heart-wrenching emotion that he himself had caused her to feel. Forced to witness a dim in her light, that flooded him with unrelenting guilt as he watched it within her swirling gaze.
Simon caught sight of that very emotion, a mere flash washing over her gaze like a fast reeling tide. Disappearing with a blink of her eyes, the swift swoop of her lashes touching down against the smooth skin of her cheekbones, lifting to reveal the emotion once again hidden within the swirl of her eyes. But he'd seen it, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it, Simon knew that it would always be there when he was in her company. Any trace of the emotion had since washed away in the hue of her irises, but as she stared up at him through the curtain of her softly sweeping lashes, a new emotion shimmered within them. One that Simon had also seen before, but this one clutched his chest in the grasp of it's hand and squeezed tightly with a different kind of strength. For this one didn't fill him with a bubbling simmer of guilt, but rather an unnerving sense of fright in the overwhelming void it presented over his heart.
"I find," It was as though the words became trapped in the base of her throat, for Simon watched with intent eyes as the muscles in her neck flexed with her deep swallow. Her tongue sweeping across her lower lip in a swift motion, before they parted with the words now readied in the edge of them. "I find I will miss you."
Simon knew as soon as the words flowed past her lips, fluttering into the air between them as though the gentle flap of butterfly wings, that she did not want to say the words. A part of herself did not want to let such honesty escape her, relinquishing the words she had kept safely protected against her heart into his possession. Perhaps she despised even the feel of such emotion inside of her chest and yet, as Simon looked deeply into her expression, utter sincerity consumed her. She did not want to say the words, she did not want to feel them as strongly as she did, but she needed to say them, Simon realized. A strong need that overpowered her desire to keep them hidden inside.
Simon's heart hammered against the confines of his chest, beating as though fists against a locked cage begging to be freed. He couldn't help the way his hands tightened around her frame, trying desperately to keep his expressions collected and his emotions controlled as her softly spoken words funneled into the crevices of his mind. She gazed up at him, her lips still parted with a sliver of a space between them, her eyes seeming as though they pierced straight through him. Her stare gentle and soft, as her expressions always seemed to be, yet it held a powering strength that he couldn't help but wonder if she knew she possessed in her silent stares. Or if it were merely him, finding a weakness within himself at the steady sight of her entrancing gaze.
He stood silently, watching the softly worn expression against the smoothness of her face, as they continued to twirl effortlessly across the dancefloor. Blending in just as any other pair, the intensity of their somehow incredibly intimate moment remaining unbeknownst to those around them. Swallowing a deep breath of his own, forcing down the thickly growing lump blocking his throat, his own lips parted slowly.
"I am not soon to forget you." Simon kept his lips still as he spoke, controlling the tremor that threatened to expose in the ease of his voice. His brows lightly furrowed as he tried with all his strength to keep any sign of emotion or reaction or even a mere insight to the truth inside of himself, from appearing within the lines of his face. He kept his tone gentle, short but not sharp, he tried to exude all gracious kindness he could into the short response, inevitably feeling as though the words he spoke held no air to them at all. Simply lifeless words spoken in courtesy but he saw immediately the weight in which his shallow words landed upon her, for he read her eyes like a poem.
Her lips parted further in a brief breath, before pressing together as though to hold the extent of the effect of his words at bay, but Simon saw all he needed to in her gaze that had bravely remained in the clutches of his own. He saw the way she wondered if those were the only possible words he could say, if that was all he had to say. He witnessed the way she couldn't help but wonder if that was truly all he felt towards her in their final moments together. Had he such little regard for her or their time together, that he felt forced to use such vacant words that lacked any true semblance of honest human emotion? Simon watched the thoughts run through her head in the crashing tides of her irises and once again, the flash of pain that filled his chest with suffocating guilt, dimmed the glow in her eyes.
But what was he supposed to say, Simon implored. He knew just as much as she, that they could never be together in the way that she dreamt. For even the dreams in which she'd snuck herself into, leaving him feeling restless and overwhelmed with conflicting feelings in the break of dawn, were just that. Dreams, fantasies of a moment in life never to be fulfilled in the reality of day. Simon knew he could never truly be what she wanted, what she needed, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was not what she deserved. It didn't matter what he wanted, what might've flashed across his dreams or in moments of burning need in her presence, he could never bring himself to become so selfish as to allow her to waste away her life on someone who did not deserve her in the least.
As Simon looked at her now, vulnerable in his strong embrace as the intensity of the piece began to fade as the ending came crawling close, she looked just as she did the day he'd had to extinguish that hope that was lit inside of her heart for a future with him. He never wanted to hurt her, he swore to himself every minute after that dreadful day, but he couldn't allow her to continue forth believing in a dream he knew full well would never come true if she placed it upon him. Simon never asked for her heart and yet she'd given it to him anyways, forcing him to be the one to break it in the end.
The void of the ballroom slowly funneled back in, all of the sounds and sights seeping back in with full clarity, as the music came to a close along with the last dance of the night. However, Simon's hands did not release her immediately as they should have. He didn't know why they lingered against the small of her back, perhaps an unconscious part of his mind yearned for the memory of how she fit so perfectly in his embrace, knowing this would surely be the last time. It felt as though he didn't want to let her go, all the while, knowing that he had no right to keep her. His fingers felt unnaturally cold as they slipped from her frame, longing for the warmth her body exuded as though beams of pure sunshine.
"Goodbye Simon Basset." She curtsied graciously, all the while, keeping her delicate gaze trained on his own. For she peered up at him through the feather like fan of her eyelashes, a sparkling pastel hue peaking through a curtain of dark shaded strands. But it was the three words that fell as effortlessly as the rush of a waterfall, from her softly tinted lips, that made Simon's heart beat a rhythm or two quicker than usual.
For although she was in the presence of a Duke, she regarded him as though he was on the most casual of societal levels. As though his title, his reputation and standing in society, held no merit in her mind. He'd only ever heard her murmur the greeting decorum demanded once, their introduction one of grace and respectful regard, but she never once addressed him in such way after that day. He'd always been Simon to her. Never "Your Grace", certainly never Hastings, just Simon Basset. There had always been a part hidden within himself that burst with an unfamiliar phenomenon at the notion, a sensation sent soaring through his chest when his name rolled from her lips with such ease. Even now, as the final moments of the evening came to a close, as she elegantly curtsied before the Duke as was respectful and expected of her, she still spoke his name. Still addressing him with a level of familiarity even Lady Danbury herself didn't often address him with. Her beauty stole the breath from his lungs, but something about the way his name collided with the inevitable sound of goodbye in her soft melodic tone, pulled at the strings of his heart in a way that frightened him.
She kept her gaze completely steadied within his own, as though she couldn't look away, but the longer he stared into the abyss of her entrancing stare, he wondered if perhaps she didn't want to look away. But as Simon lifted her hand upwards, pressing his lips against the smooth silk of her glove, softly curling her fingers as his gentle kiss lingered just above her hidden knuckles, as her name fell past his parted kiss in the whisper of goodbye, her gaze that had been so unwavering with a beautiful bravery, suddenly fluttered away. Her eyelashes furiously beating against the soft skin of her cheekbone, forcing her attention away from him, casting her intense gaze downwards towards the floor beneath them. It was in that single moment, the barely imperceptible yet insurmountable break in her connection with his keen regard, that Simon Basset realized it was him who did not want to look away.
But he had no say in the matter, as his fingers soon relinquished hold of her own, freeing her from the last of his lingering embrace. Simon stood completely still where he stood, every muscle in his entire body tensing beneath the warm weight of his perfectly tailored attire. For she never looked up at him again, never meeting his watchful gaze that hadn't yet looked away from the only sight in the entire extravagant room that had any interest to him in the slightest. He watched with a pull in the depth of his chest, as she departed with the rest of the guests. A swirl of pure gold blurring away from him, shrinking to a mere speck of shimmering light as her departing presence left him cold where he stood. He stayed until the last soul left the ballroom, before passing through the large set of doors himself, bracing himself for the evening cold that could in no way touch upon the chill already lingering in his bones.
Darkness consumed the sky, lights flickering only from that of surrounding lanterns and contained fires that had been used as an exciting addition to the evening's aesthetic. But as Simon stood out amongst the nearly vacant front lawn, watching as the last few carriages pulled away while some were still continuing to board the last few attendees, the evening seemed darker than usual. His eyes glanced upwards towards the blanket of shadows the immersed the ground below and saw that the stars were missing. Not a single twinkle to be found within the indigo shade that inched closer to black. Tearing his eyes away from the sight, Simon felt an unsettling sensation in his chest, knowing full well where the light from the once twinkling stars resided this evening.
Simon Basset did not need to hear her voice to know who suddenly stood behind him, the tap of her cane resounding like a crack of lightening against the pavement echoing in the silence that encircled him, the strong scent of her perfume lingering on her deep purple gown wafting against his senses like a strong wind. The sight of her presence soon peered into his peripheral as Lady Danbury moved to stand on his left, crossing her hands one over the other, as they rested firmly against her cane in front of her. Simon didn't move his gaze to look at her, barely acknowledging her presence, but he knew instantly when her own sharp gaze fell upon him.
"I ought to wring you around the neck for being so foolish."
Her words were spoken in an even tone, one of composure and grace, but the emphasis in her words left him with no misunderstandings to the way that she felt. He could hear it in her biting words, spoken coolly and with a sophisticated ease, yet all the while feeling as though he was a young boy being reprimanded. But perhaps he was... perhaps he deserved it.
"She shall be better off." Simon responded in a low voice, clearing his throat in the process. Furrowing his brow as though to grasp better control of his expression, not willing to let Lady Danbury witness the extent of turmoil that burned violently within the pit of his chest. But he could feel her sharp gaze directed towards him with all of the scrutiny she could muster.
"And what of you Your Grace?" She questioned in the same strong tone, yet the voice in which she spoke had softened a mere touch. "Are you to be better off without her?"
Simon remained silent, unsure of what to say to Lady Danbury's bold inquiry, or perhaps he was afraid of the answer he might find within himself if he truly looked hard enough. For he stood as still as he had in the ballroom as the guests cleared out, but his eyes were trained on a sight not too many feet away. A single carriage, the last quite possibly still on the grounds, but not just any carriage. Her carriage. Watching as she made her way around to the door being opened for her. The darkness of the night seemed as though it simply skipped over her presence, for even as the lack of light in the sky and the surrounding light of the grounds lent a harsh orangish glow, she radiated a light of such golden purity it baffled his eyes. Blinking once as though to clear his sight, but revealing the same enchanting glow as his eyes reopened.
He stayed completely silent and unmoving, watching her every step before the door to the carriage sealed away the sight of her. Watching her for the last few seconds he had, the last time he would ever lay eyes upon her. He wanted to imprint this image, the sight of her right now, tonight, in that dress, in that light, just as she was, so that he might always have it tucked away in the back of his subconscious. Selfishly and shamefully believing that a visit in a dream or two might be allowed. Simon watched as the carriage began to roll away, stealing away the last glimmer of bright light from the evening and as it rounded the corner, the darkness of the night overwhelmed him in a shadowy void unlike any other.
Simon Basset couldn't answer Lady Danbury's question, for he realized he couldn't even answer it for himself. But he did know, that one day the pain in her heart would certainly begin to heal. The hole he left would be filled by another and the name carved in the part of her heart that she'd dedicated to him, would fade and another would undoubtfully replace the cursive.
She would be alright, Simon believed. For he had to, because only one heart should have to be forever scarred by the hurt he'd caused and he knew full well that he'd fair well enough to endure the torture, if it meant that she would be free of any longing suffering.
Simon Basset cleared his throat one last time, as he moved to acknowledge Lady Danbury for the first time since she'd joined him out on the front lawn. Looking to older but nonetheless lovely woman, he responded to her in a clear voice.
"She will be better off," He swallowed a breath, before nodding his head in confirmation at his own response. "that is all that matters."
That was the blatant truth to Simon, it didn't matter what he wanted, it hadn't ever mattered when it came to her. For she deserved a man, a love, a life that he simply could not provide her. And it was in those painful realizations that he put her needs, her desires, what she deserved above all else. Even himself, even his own feelings and even his own heart.
A/N: Wow! I am speechless with this piece!
My heart hurts, I'm not going to lie, this piece was filled to the brim with angst and heartbreaking yearning love, but I am so proud of it!! I was so inspired when this idea came to me, I loved the complex, painful but beautiful and almost poetic nature to it! And reading it completed, I have to say that this may be one of the most beautiful pieces I have ever written!😭❤
I worked so hard on every single part of this piece, trying to make the descriptions and all of the details even down to the minuet ones, as vivid and perfect as I possibly could. I wanted not only the surroundings to come to life, but I really wanted to make the depth and emotion that I put into this one, real and palpable, something that you could feel as you read it. I wanted the limited dialogue to be poignant and powerful without requiring much speaking at all, letting the emotion and words spoken in the void of heartbreaking silence to be louder than anything they could possibly say.
I am so proud of this piece, I love every aspect of this and how it came together in this beautiful and angsty piece of poetic art! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!❤