Free A Different Reflection by Jane L Gibson Page A

glass on the counter and replied: “George, you look very handsome!”
    â€œWhy thank you. One does like to make an effort!” he joked. “Shall we?” He gestured for us to leave his apartment and return to the main house. Surprised, I turned and exited. I had thought that we would be eating in his humble apartment, but he had apparently decided differently!
    We walked back through the kitchen. As my heels clicked along the stone floor, he continued: “I decided that if we are to let you have a taste of this house correctly, then we should eat in the dining room!” he confirmed.
    â€œOh, really? I don’t want you going to any trouble, George!” I replied as we walked across to a door that showed a subtle glow through the frame. He pushed the door open to a roaring fire in the fireplace and the long dining table that I remembered seeing before on my tour. It was set with an intricate lace cover and place settings for two, at one end of the table, opposite each other. I smiled. “Oh George, this is beautiful!”
    â€œYes, it is a room that I like very much. Before we go in, though, I am going to make you keep your promise – I hope that you will grant me one dance in the ballroom!” he suggested.
    â€œAbsolutely, I would love to. I’m not the best dancer, George, and your toes may suffer, but yes. I am so excited!” I replied as I clapped my hands together in anticipation. It was something that I had seen many times in stories, fairy tales and movies: the grand ballroom, where so much tension, pleasure, passion and connection happened. I linked arms with him and we walked across to the ballroom door which was open. The lights in the ballroom were on; they were subtle and reflected the painted ceiling and the gold ornate carvings along the walls, which were imbedded with gilt mirrors designed to reflect the many dancers at such a function. I stood and turned, taking in the whole room, and smiled.
    George walked across to an old gramophone and placed the needle gently onto the turning record he had chosen. Immediately after the lovely crackling sound, a whole orchestra burst into life and he walked back across to me with his hand outstretched. “May I have the honour of this dance?” he asked. I nodded and then we took our positions in the middle of the floor. George held himself so well, standing as he took in the beat of the music before gracefully leading me around the whole ballroom floor. We moved easily and turned; he led with such elegance that I fluidly followed. As the music came to an end and he continued to keep spinning, I threw my head back and laughed. It was a sheer delight, and I felt for the first time in ages so very, very happy. The music had stopped but the player still crackled, and then George stood me steady and released me from the confident hold that he had. “Thank you. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed dancing!” he sadly stated, as if he had missed it for so very long.
    â€œThe pleasure was all mine. I feel like a princess in a fairy tale in the most elaborate room!” I replied. He turned and walked to lift the needle from continuing the crackling and then walked back to me and held out his arm.
    â€œShall we dine?” he then asked.
    â€œLet’s!” I simply replied, as we walked back to the dining room.
    â€œPlease, be seated and I will pour you some wine!” he then instructed as he gently guided me to my seat and pulled back my chair. I nodded in acceptance at his request and gently brushed my dress neatly down, once sat, as George placed a linen napkin in my lap. “Red wine?” he asked.
    â€œThat would be lovely, thank you!”
    â€œI shall return promptly with dinner,” he then stated as he disappeared back out of the room.
    I took a sip of the wine and then glanced around the room at the ornate features. The mirrors reflected the glow of the fire, and as I sat and gazed at