Embrace the Night

Page 25



the full skirt sweeping the floor. Fine white lace edged the scalloped neckline.

"It's the most exquisite thing I've ever seen," she said, mesmerized by the miracle the gown had wrought in her appearance. Her eyes seemed bluer; her cheeks were flushed with excitement. "Where did you get it?"

"Does it matter?" he asked as he replaced the mirror, careful to keep to one side so that she wouldn't notice that his form cast no reflection in the glass.

Sara shook her head.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

Effortlessly, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out onto the veranda.
"You can't carry me all the way to the opera house," she remarked as he started across the yard. "No need." He gestured to the surrey waiting outside the gate. "We'll ride."

It was like a dream, a wonderful dream, the ride through the streets, the feel of the breeze in her hair, the warmth of his shoulder next to her own, the brush of his thigh against hers when he shifted on the leather seat.

The ballet had already started when they arrived. As if he did it every day, he lifted her from the seat and carried her into the theater, nodding at the doorman, climbing the stairs with ease, carrying her into a private box.

Gently, he placed her in one of the red velvet chairs, then sat down in the other one.

She couldn't believe she was there. Her gaze swept the theater, from the frescoes painted on the ceiling to the heavy drapes that framed the stage. Leaning forward, she stared at the people seated below—elegant women gowned in lustrous silks and satins, handsome men attired in black evening clothes. And she was a part of them. She lifted her chin, feeling as if she belonged, as if she were, indeed, a princess.

And then, very slowly, she faced the stage.

A sigh of wonder, of awe, escaped her lips as she saw the ballerina for the first time. The dancer moved like a feather on the wind, light, airy, graceful. Each movement was perfection, perfectly timed, flawlessly executed.

Mesmerized by the sinuous blending of music and dance, Sara forgot everything but the woman who seemed to float effortlessly across the stage, her tiny feet encased in white ballet slippers.

They were doing Giselle, created by Carlotta Grisi in Paris in 1841. The story was one of Sara's favorites. She watched, entranced, as the peasant girl, Giselle, fell in love with the handsome Albrecht, a nobleman disguised as a peasant boy. She wept softly when Hilarion, who also loved Giselle, told her the truth about Albrecht. Upon learning that her beloved was betrothed to another, Giselle died of a broken heart.