Free Rose of rapture by Rebecca Brandewyne Page A

costumes, who danced on light feet; the acrobats and jugglers, who performed wondrous tricks of tumbling and sent bright balls spinning with a whirl of flashing hands; and the fool, who told bawdy jests and, with sly maliciousness, imitated those who sought to make sport of him. Isabella prayed the nasty dwarf would not see into her heart and expose her girlish dreams to ridicule.
    After supper, the long trestle tables were dismantled and pushed back against the walls; and the gay lilt of the flute, the thrum of the lute, and the echo of the harp filled the air with music designed to lure those present into dancing. To Isabella's surprise and astonishment, Richard rose and solemnly bowed low before her, ignoring the red flush of rage and embarrassment that stained Lady Shrewton's cheeks at being pointedly insulted. Honored, thrilled beyond belief, the girl sank into a deep curtsy and extended her hand. She, Lady Isabella Jane Ashley of Rushden,

    was to dance with the second most important man in all of England! She would never, not as long as she lived, forget this night or the Duke's dark, sober eyes fixed kindly upon her face as he guided her through the intricate maze of steps, then gently laid her palm in Giles's outstretched hand when the music changed.
    "So, dear sister," her brother said, his eyes twinkling at Isabella's highly apparent happiness. "Need I ask what ye think of my choice for ye?"
    "Oh, Giles, is it so obvious?" she queried anxiously. "Have I made a fool of myself?"
    "Nay." He laughed. "Ye have made Lionel the envy of every man present."
    Indeed, it was true: for none could help but mark the favor that Isabella showed to the heir of St. Saviour, and there were many who would have given much to be in his shoes. Lord Oadby, especially, was most displeased with the manner in which his ward was displaying her charms and fawning over Lionel as though he were a prince. How on earth had the tacky little caterpillar metamorphosed into such a beautiful butterfly without ^ the Earl having realized it? Lord Oadby made a mental note to' pay more attention to the progress of his wards in the future— especially the female ones.
    Isabella did not see the lasciviously narrowed gaze of her warden as he watched her closely, lustfully contemplating the possibilities of being the first to taste of her innocence. She had eyes only for Lionel, who had claimed her hand for the third dance.
    My Lord Lionel, now and for always, she vowed passionately to herself as she smiled up at him with the blind trust of youth.
    Never had the days seemed so endless and yet passed so swiftly— too swiftly: for Isabella was young and in love in a way only the young can be—when love is new and shining like a beckoning star, and one rushes toward it without hesitation. It had come in a fleeting moment of breathlessness, a blinding flash of glory; and she reveled in it. First love is like that, clean and fresh, unmarred by the remembrance of pain that tarnishes later loves, no matter how hard one tries to polish it away, never realizing that sometimes, the dim patina, like that of old pewter, is more valuable for its scars.
    The Duke of Gloucester had gone, taking his men. But, seeing the girl's crestfallen face and perhaps recalling his own sad, solitary youth, Richard had given Giles and Lionel leave to stay

    as long as the summer sun shone in the pale blue sky.
    Every morning, Isabella rose, flung open her balcony doors, and begged the trees to keep their leaves just a little while longer; and perhaps because she was a child of nature, they seemed to hear her pleas and understand. Every day, she and Giles and Lionel rode beneath the shade of the spreading oaks and yews, the ashes and pines; and life was good. Never had the girl felt so alive, so filled with joy that she brimmed over with laughter and exhilaration. She galloped recklessly through the woods; she danced wildly in the meadows; she hugged herself with secret delight at night,