The Hidden Mind

The lanterns shone brightly in the dark, spreading gold around their cages and coloring the black of night with warm yelow. Lupin was quite sure she had never seen something so beautiful as the scene that lay out before her. Colored fabrics, rich and brilliant, swirled blithely around a square alight with hanging lanterns as people mixed and flowed about a darkened park. Here and there embraces could be seen, quick and stolen in the shadowed trees. Lupin watched all, her attention sharply turned to the dance floor where well-matched dancers twirled beneath the starry night. The lilting melodies rang out, a stream of emotion that ran beneath every movement of the costumed bodies. Lupin sat in black, a shadow, shrouded by the dark of a cedar behind her. The low, curved tree branch made for a well-fitted seat, the evening warm.
She seldom wore any finery, but a stray invitation to Lady Venigne’s masquerade had surreptitiously slipped into her hands, and Lupin had not let the chance go by unused. Black had been the dress, for sale in the costumer’s shop, black and heavy gold. She had taken it at once, no question in her mind. The oddness of its fashion only intensified its beauty. For a girl of her age and unmarried state such severity was not, by any means, the fashion. But Lupin had never known the fashion, so it was not a large departure for her. She sank farther into the cedars, and watched the dancers vicariously from her scented box.
Her heavy velvet skirts were an effective cushion, but their breadth longed to swirl on the ground below. Her gown was a partner in her envy. Yet she sank yet farther still into the branches, pulling her very form and shadow closer to her. The light and the society of others had never been her forte – or rather, she had never been given the chance to conclude if they were, for her circle had consisted of naught but temper and imagination. So far, in her stolen experience in these noble gardens, imagination and a lively desire to be solicited to dance had reigned her evening. But Lupin suddenly decided to not allow her evening to mirror so exactly her life, though that life would begin anew on the morrow.
She had taken a chance to be here tonight. She must take another to make it successful. Yet she rested still where she was. It was not cowardice that stayed her, though that was very present in her breast, it was another form of fear:w the fear of discovery. A male voice, mixed with that of a woman was just below her. They had gone unnoticed in her abstraction. She knew the voice, and though she did not know how, it was oddly familiar to her nevertheless. The timbre sent frissons down her spine, the cambre was so well known to her it nearly brought her down disgracefully from her seat. She knew the voice. She knew the intensity. She knew the dream.
* * * * *
The man below her strolled by, his arm linked with that of a richly, if barely, dressed woman who easily held his attention. But suddenly he paused beneath her. Lupin held her breath instantly, as the hem of her velvet skirt hung in heavy shadow a mere hair’s breadth from his shoulder. The lady stopped, and gestured to him with such an air of mystery about her Lupin herself felt nearly compelled to follow. The masked woman continued into the trees, but yet the man stilled beneath Lupin’s seat. Suddenly, Lupin saw him stare straight into her eyes. She felt with every fibre of her being “Don’t follow her.” She knew not why; the feeling was so intense, she nearly swooned.
But it had never happened. She had never met his eyes. The man lingered but yet a moment, and turning, set his steps into being lost in the shadowed color of the fete. Lupin slipped to the ground, and silently followed. Her own sanity was being seriously called into question, yet she followed the blue brocade costume doubtlessly.
She followed him to the game room, where he played desultorily at dice and chatted briefly with an acquaintance who called him ‘Robbie’. She followed him to the dancing stage where he watched in seeeminly bored unamusement as masked forms swirled by. Finally, she watched him proceed to the refreshments and partake heartily of the wine. He looked mightily as if he wished he could have found the master of the house’s brandy table.
Thus far, Lupin had discovered very little about her quarry. She had come upon a great deal about herself, however. Indeed, she had found in this brief interlude that she was more than fascinated by this man. There was a pull that linked her to him. And she had found that to acquire the reason for this disturbing bond she was willing to face fears she had nt even known existed within her. Confusion reigned in her mind, but her very self knew that she must answer this ultimate question.