''Good evening, Miss. I am Lord Falconbury. May I say how charming you look? It is seldom one sees a lady in such a striking gown. My compliments.''
''Thank you, sir. It is indeed a striking dress, you are correct. I did wonder whether I should wear it or not. Courage overcame me.''
''You look most beautiful. Would you dance with me?''
''If you would excuse me, I'd prefer to stand here a while longer before dancing, sir. Thank you.''
Half an hour passed, and Isabella was beginning to tire of the constant stream of gentlemen who came and asked her to dance. Where was the Duke? She couldn't see him anywhere.
Then, to her left she saw him - with Lady Victoria on his arm. I thought this was supposed to be a ball to find him a wife. If he's already chosen, why on earth he bothering? she thought.
When the Duke walked with Lady Victoria towards the dance floor, Isabella beckoned to Lord Falconbury and said, ''Please my Lord, dance with me now.'' Lord Falconbury was surprised she dare to ask a gentleman to dance but as she was so beautiful, he did not take offense.
It was a dance called The Eighth of August. Isabella was pleased because it would give her the opportunity to speak to the Duke as there were moments when partner changes were called for. She stood opposite Lord Falconbury as they bowed to each other. On her right stood Lady Victoria, and opposite her, the Duke. The dance began. As she stood in line she noticed the Duke looking at her. It didn't seem to be her masque that was attracting his attention, though.
When it was Isabella's turn she set off and met Lord Falconbury in the middle. They danced around each other and spun off to the next partner. Isabella crossed to the Duke. As she rounded him, she said, ''My Lord, that is a most beautiful waistcoat. Silver compliments your hair color so well.''
The Duke looked at her and smiled. ''I don't believe we have been introduced,'' he said, before he spun off to the next partner.
When their paths crossed again, he said,'' My children's governess helped me choose it.''
As quickly as she could before they had to part again, she said,'' Miss Isabella?''
The Duke raised an eyebrow. ''Do you know Isabella?'' He had to dance away again, but she had awoken his curiosity.
When he came back to her, she answered him. ''Yes, I know her, very well in fact. And prey my Lord, how do you find her?''
Again the Duke spun off and continued the dance around Lady Victoria. Before he could answer, the dance ended. The Duke walked to Isabella. ''She is a very agreeable young woman.''
''Agreeable?'' Isabella asked.
''My lady, I don't know who you are. As I don't know who you are, it is perhaps easier for me to speak of my torment. Miss Isabella is the most beautiful woman I know. I am in love with her. I am tortured daily that I will never be able to take her for my wife.''
Isabella was delighted and devastated at the same time. ''Why on earth could you never marry her?''
''I fear society would frown upon it. Miss Isabella is from a family that has fallen on hard times and her father is in prison. I am a Duke. I have to think of my reputation. In addition, Miss Isabella wears some very unbecoming clothes. If she dressed like you, perhaps I could find my way to ignoring society and marry her nonetheless.''
''My Lord, if I may say so, you are being foolish. You are in love with a beautiful woman. Would you let her go because of what society thinks of her? I can tell you what Miss Isabella thinks of you.''
''Yes, what does she think of me?'' he asked curiously.
Isabella didn't answer but walked away from him. She walked out of the hall and into the fresh air. She had just one hope: that the Duke would be so curious as to the answer, he would follow her.
The Duke didn't see Isabella leave the ballroom. She had woven her way between guests and he'd lost sight of her. He walked around frantically trying to find the lady in the red gown. After ten minutes Isabella had the blackest thoughts she had had since her mother had died. He hadn't followed her. He didn't really care to know what Isabella felt. Her dream was really over.
She took the path that circled the castle and began to walk the lonely route to a side door where she could slip inside unnoticed, and go to her room.
''Stop. Please stop.'' The Duke. Isabella didn't turn around. She listened to him trying to catch his breath.
''Dear Lady. Why did you run away from me?''
''I didn't run my Lord.''
''And?''
''And what, my Lord?''
''What does Isabella think of me?''
Isabella still with her back to him, turned around. She looked at him. She saw a desperation in his eyes. His hair was disheveled and there were beads of sweat on his forehead.
Slowly, she put her hand to her masque. She hesitated, but then drew in a long breath. She removed the masque.
The Duke gasped when he saw it was her.