Dancing in my Mind
The next day was rather peaceful. It appears that all my suitors want to be gentlemen for me and they decided to follow my needs (mostly the need for sleep). But this day was fatal for my heart. Little did I know that it was going to be important for my family... A I was drinking a delightful glass of tea with my croissants at noon with my friend Charlotte and Claudia Bowflinders - English sisters of an friends family - my servant entered the tea room with a grand sourri* on his face.
- Mademoiselle, You have a visitor. Sir Carlton is here to present his poem to your attention.
- Oh, that is such a grand surprise for me. Yes, yes let him come in. - Berard got out of the room. Few minutes later the door opened and a gentle face appeared in front of the massive mahogany. Oh, dear Lord, this was one of the finest owners of hound in the races. Of course, I didn't support that barbarian way of having fun but I kept an eye on this sport in case someone asked me on this subject. Strange it was how I haven't seen this one in the crowds under my room. He was just gorgeous. He was holding his cylinder under his right arm. His silky brown hair suited him almost as much as his deep brown eyes reflecting the sunlight that passed through the red curtains. His costume was one of the most modern on the stores and his hands were discrete in white gloves.
- Greetings Milady, I hope I am not disturbing you.
- No, not at all, dear sir. - I said under the quiet smirks of my friends.
- I am willing to present to you my humble poem.
- I am ready for your gentle words. But come and sit beside us so you can rest a little from the road you have walked to here.
- I am thankful. - he said as he was sitting close to me with an obvious blush on his gentle cheek which was welcomed by my incompetent friends.
- Shall I start?
- Would you just wait for a minute?
- But of course.
- Thank you, meanwhile have a cup of coffee and a croissant. - I said as I rang the golden bell to call Berard. He came and bowed before my friends and the kind sir. He looked at me with a question look on his face. I called him and asked him to bend a little so I can whisper him something. He did and I asked him quietly what is the name of this young gentillehomme** to my shame. He answered me also quietly "Gordon". I waved my hand with the clear sign of "you can leave know".
- I am so sorry for this inconvenience. You can start as soon as you wish, Gordon.
- Thank you, Milady. - he took a small paper out of his side pocket. He coughed discretely and started reciting:
Every hour I think of your smile
and how gentle it reflects the sun.
Even when you are gone for a while
my thoughts are unable to run
...they stay focused on you.
Oh, my Lord. It was written with the Golden Pace*** which was amazing. Only the really talented man could use it correctly and this was just perfect. He folded the paper and placed it once again in his pocket. He timidly looked me in the eyes and blushed again. Even with my mouth open he still found me attractive. I was just gazing at him and with every second past he was showing me more and more of his shy character. My mind was painting thousands of scenery of my life with him and the amazing thing was that I didn't regret any of them. This was the first time I felt something like this. Finally, the sharp elbow of Claudia got me out of the trance and made my suitor lower his regard. An atmosphere of inelegant situation took place in the tea room. The liquid in the cups was long gone cold but it was out of my mind right now. I silently went through all the poems that I have read written with the Golden Pace and this wasn't stolen! Sadly, he excused himself, placed the cylinder on his head, bowed and gallantly exited the room. This encounter with the genius Pace made me tell Berard to cancel all the other requests of the suitors. When the sun went down and I was already in my bed I was still thinking about Sir. Gordon Carlton and his poem written with the most difficult Pace ever invented. Even that difficult he was playing with it like a toy. Maybe, just maybe he could be my husband But there were many others who ere waiting at my door. We shall see what will happen tomorrow. One thing was sure. From now on I was going to be far more critical. I fell asleep with thought about that master of the feather that entered my life.