It wasn't some stranger holding on the Rebecca. It wasn't someone who just happened to be there for the dance. It was, in fact, Simon Hartwell. That bastard had his hands on my Rebecca, dancing with her. Holding her hand. Touching her back in places only I should be able to hold.
I couldn't help looking over at him then. I could barely contain my anger and my composure as I witnessed him looking down at her — and grinning. God, he looked happy. Genuinely happy to be touching her and dancing with her. With her! With what was mine. I sneered at him, which got his attention. I didn't think I could look evil or menacing, but I felt it at that moment and, judging by the way Simon's eyes widened and the way he averted my eyes so suddenly, I assume I gave that impression.
Good, because it was how I felt.
The walk back to where we began was torture. It seemed mere seconds that we walked one way down the line, but then on the way back, when there were three of us in a very uncomfortable manner, it seemed to last an eternity. His hand was on hers. His hand was in hers. It took everything I had not to push him away. It wouldn't have been proper, of course, but I knew he had planned it all along. That fact made me incredibly angry. Simon hadn't just been in the right place at the right time, he had stood there on purpose so he could have some time with Rebecca. I knew that he was going to give me competition for her heart, and though I knew in my heart Rebecca belonged to me, my head began filling with questions, doubts, fears.
Simon was titled. I was not.
Simon had a large lot of land in Enhurst. I did not.
Simon would never have to work to support her. I would.
Simon was falling for her. I couldn't let that happen.
As we walked and I felt the anger flush my face, Rebecca looked up at me. At me. Not at Simon. Not at anybody else, but at me. She fluttered her eyes and her ruby red lip pulled up a wee bit into a grin. As we took the last few steps of our journey, Rebecca kept her gaze on me. She never looked at Simon, just me. Always just me. My throat dried and the anger slipped away as, yet again, we were the only two people in the room. I could have looked into her eyes forever. I would have loved to, but we sadly made it back to where we began and I had to let her go. Simon turned her to face the middle again, and I did the same to the girl to my right. We formed our lines again and once more, Rebecca and I ended up in the middle. We made one more dance around the middle, her eyes directly on mine the entire time, and then we stepped back into the line.
The dance was over.
Everyone else around us greeted his or her partner, but I couldn't move and neither, it seemed could Rebecca. She stared at me for what seemed like an eternity and I her, unable to break her gaze even if I wanted.
Finally, Simon broke the connection for us. He walked up to Rebecca and whispered something in her ear. My trance broke, and it took everything I had not to go over and break his neck. She looked at me, back at Simon and nodded. Without acknowledging me, he walked away. I found out later what he said. He is lucky he has lived this long.
Rebecca didn't follow him. In fact, she stayed with me and danced another dance. By the time we were finished, my feet ached for I had never danced so much in my life. I would have danced a thousand more times if she had wanted, however. I would have twirled her around the floor until my feet bled if that was what it took to spend time with her. I loved her that much.
I haven't danced since that night and I won't ever again.
Finally, Anthony tapped me on the shoulder and asked for a turn with his cousin. The way he said "cousin" led me to believe he would not take no for an answer. I wanted to tell him to go away, but I didn't want to look like an inconsiderate brute, so I allowed it. The entire time I watched them, I dreaded the conversation they most assuredly had about me.
A few other ladies smiled my way. I politely smiled back, but didn't dance with any of them. I accepted a drink from a most unusual fellow, or rather a person I wasn't expecting to get a drink from: Simon Hartwell. My first thought was that perhaps it was filled with poison, after all, I had won his woman from him. But then I looked more closely at Simon. He wasn't much of a man, if you asked me. Soft, he was very soft and too kind. I believe kindness has its place in the world, but Simon had too much. He wasn't assertive. He wasn't very perceptive either.
We drank nearly simultaneously as we watched Anthony and Rebecca dance. Neither of us took his eyes off her. It wasn't uncomfortable for what did I have to be uncomfortable about? From Anthony, yes. I did have something to fear from him, but Simon, never. Not Simon.
"Lovely party." Simon said, his voice grating on my nerves.