Caprice (3 page)

keep her from being bowled over. 'There you two are!' he said, still

laughing. 'I was just coming to get you.'

Some of the people she knew, and some she didn't. As she set about

getting to know each of them without delay, there was soon a slight

but definite gravitational shift in the room. One by on§ the young

men wandered over, lured by Caprice's flashing, laughing eyes and

light voice. With four men and four women, ages from early twenties

to about twenty-five or six, there was obviously supposed to be some

pairing, but that seemed to be upset at once.

Perhaps the reason why the other three women didn't get extremely

annoyed with Caprice was because she never did quite give any one

man too much attention. She flitted from person to person, watchful

of the atmosphere under her careless facade, and talked with as much

enthusiasm to each of the young women as she did with the men, so

that soon everyone was jabbering quite comfortably with everyone

else, and nobody was exactly sure how it came about.

Besides Jeffrey, there was another dark, slim man named Lane

Randall. Then she knew the blond, rather stocky, good-natured man

named Emory, and a redhead named Ralph. Of the women, Caprice

was the only blonde, the others being varying shades of brunette, and

one woman, Petra, being particularly ravishing. Both Caprice and

Roxanne knew the other, Gwynne, and for that reason Caprice tried

to go out of her way to be especially nice to Petra.

Dinner came and went, an informal affair consisting of cold meats

and salads, and the talk was very general. Jeffrey's parents were

lovely people who made themselves as unobtrusive as possible, with

the kind of tact that Caprice silently appreciated. Afterwards,

everyone made a general exodus to their rooms to change for the

party which started at eight. Several local people had been invited,

and it was to be quite large.

The house was located at the shoreline of a deep, large, sky blue lake,

and Caprice hoped that the party would spill outdoors so that they

could take advantage of the cooling night breeze. She held two

dresses in her hands, one a simple light lavender affair, and the other

also made of a light summer material but not at all simple, being a

frothy white confection and nearly (as Ricky had said) good enough

to eat. She dithered over which to wear, and then laughed at herself,

for she would have to wear the other the next night anyway, and so

she laid down the white confection and put away the lavender.

Fifteen minutes later, she whirled in a circle and the skirt flared from

her wasp-slim waist, three layers of transparent tulle falling to settle

against her knees. She patted her hair, which was arranged in her best

French braid, and then with a small, satisfied smile she descended the

stairs just in time to meet the first wave of guests.

The evening went splendidly. Jeffrey did not pay too much attention

to Caprice, so Roxanne didn't feel slighted. The back garden was,

much to Caprice's delight, lit with low-hanging, yellowish lanterns

which were reflected off the. blackened waters of the lake until it

looked like the whole scene held a countless array of lights. The

breeze blew cool and refreshing, and the talking, laughing guests

spilled from large, open glass doors which led to a roofless veranda.

After some time, music was played over stereo speakers positioned

so that the songs filled the open area.

Caprice took a position next to the soft lapping water, leaning against

the sturdy, waist-high wooden rail as she watched the dancing. Just to

her left was a pier of the same sturdy wood as the rail, red stained,

and several small boats were moored to it, quietly bumping against

each other. Soon she was joined by others, and the small group held a

confusion of witty, enjoyable talk.

She had danced with every male weekend guest, and Jeffrey also, and

then she had danced with almost every other man besides,

laughingly, stepping as light as the breeze that touched at her warm

cheeks. To one side was a table holding beer for those who cared for

it, wine, which was more to her own taste, and an array of soft and

mixed drinks. For some reason the dancing had trickled down to just

a few. She leaned back against the rail, sipped at her glass of wine,

and listened to the talk around her.

She could never say why the impulse grabbed her, later. But it came

as they always came, on a fit of quick-welling, inexplicable boredom,

incomprehensible to her and so never talked about. She knew the

impulses were why other people thought she was whimsical and

flighty, but she couldn't seem to curb them.

She set her glass down with a sharp click on to the flat wide top of

the wooden rail, and pushed herself away from it. Then she drew

herself to attention, and politely, ludicrously, addressed the empty air

in front of her. 'Dear sir, would you care to dance with me?'

A neat sidestep and she was the gentleman, responding as

courteously to the inviting lady, 'Why yes, madam, I would be

delighted.'

She moved back to the role of the lady. 'Thank you, sir. I am much

obliged.' Her arms curved up gracefully, holding her invisible

partner. He would be blond, she thought, fleetingly fanciful.

Tall, blond and utterly gorgeous. Polite. Passionate. Perfect.

At first there had been a blank silence from everyone, and then a few

of the men made as if they would laughingly partner her, but she was

already stepping into an old-fashioned ballroom waltz, swinging

wide, sweeping graceful and swirling, making her white dress billow

from her waist in the night wind. The breeze feathered at the light,

silvery, loose hair at her temples, and the lighting from the open glass

doors spilled over her, at one moment making her a slim silhouette,

at another, highlighting her perfectly. Her slim neck rose from her

white shoulders with the slight curve of a swan's, and she was

distinctly seen to be talking away to her invisible partner. Everyone

from the group watched her, entranced and highly entertained.

Everyone saw the imminent collision, except for Caprice.

She whirled around, and bumped right into someone. With a

laughing gasp, her arms collapsed and clutched at the real flesh and

blood someone she had run into, and hard arms went around her

waist in response. She tumbled out an apology.

And looked up. The man who lightly held her was half obscured

from the light spilling out of the house, and half lit. She caught a

glittering impression of dark bright eyes under a black fall of straight,

glossy hair. His face—what she could see of it—was vaguely

familiar, and arresting. He was tiller than she, and slim also, and not

looking at all surprised to be holding a piece of white fluff and froth.

A slow smile creased whitely over his lips, lighting his whole

countenance. Something kicked in her chest like a captured bird. 'Oh,

well,' he said, and his voice was low and well modulated. 'If you

really need a partner...'

She began to smile in response, as she tilted her head a little to one

side, like a diffident bird. 'Sir,' she said sedately, immensely thankful

he couldn't determine her inner reaction, 'I would be charmed.'

They began the waltz steps, as one.

As they circled in that grand style, she leaned comfortably back

against the steady, hard arm at her waist and smiled at her unknown

partner, her sudden, inexplicable boredom for the moment quite

erased. His dark head was bent, angled to her, as he watched her face

in the quick golden flashes that spilled over them from the lanterns

hung in the trees.

'Tell me,' he said, and she raised her brows. He started to smile again,

eyes sparkling. 'Do you ride away on a pumpkin at midnight?'

'Goodness, no,' she replied lightly, feeling dizzy. 'I brought a car.

Besides, I'm not leaving at midnight. I'm staying the weekend.' She

tried to focus more sharply on his flickering features, finding she

liked the feel of his firm hold on her, and the smooth grace with

which he danced. 'And you? Are you one of the neighbourhood

guests? I don't believe we've been introduced.'

'No, we haven't,' he said as lightly, watching her. 'I'd have

remembered if we had.' That brought a secret smile to her lips. He

knew his party patter. 'I'm Jeffrey's brother, Pierce, come from New

York for a bit of relaxation. No one told me there was to be a

weekend party.'

'Don't feel bad,' she said, confidingly, and she leaned close to him.

For a brief instant she inhaled a fresh, attractive scent that was his

aftershave. 'I was told just a few days ago, myself.'

He looked indulgent, amused. They circled, now somewhat far from

the house and lakeside, and he came to stop underneath one of the

glowing lanterns, letting his hands rest at her waist as she twinkled

up at him with her enormous, midnight violet eyes. She could feel the

weight and the warmth of those large hands through her thin dress.

'Well, I've told you mine,' he said, running his eyes over her face,

lingeringly. 'Do you, by any chance, have a name' of your own?'

She laughed, finding suddenly that the party was quite enjoyable, and

that the weekend might indeed end up being, to say the least,

interesting. Letting one light finger trail down the side of her

impromptu partner's lean cheek, savouring the feel of warm skin, she

then pulled gently out of his arms and turned away. She called over

her shoulder, voice threaded with teasing, 'Yes, I do.'

As she .walked across the lawn, she could feel his gaze on her back.

Their little confrontation had been watched by many interested eyes,

among whom was Jeffrey, who didn't appear too pleased at his older

brother's unexpected arrival. Caprice went over to her wine glass,

still precariously perched on the wooden rail, and she sipped at the

drink sedately while Roxanne neatly swooped from around one of the

young men, to reach her side.

'So, how was it?' she asked, her eyes avid.

Caprice glanced at the brunette and then away, and as she hadn't

liked the question or how Roxanne had posed it, she let her eyes go

vague. 'The wine?' she murmured, looking at her glass in some

surprise. 'Why, it's delicious, of course. Haven't you tried it yet?'

'No, stupid! I meant the dance with Pierce Langston.' With difficulty,

Roxanne tried to keep her voice down.

'Quite an accident,' replied Caprice, flippantly.

'Honey, that was no accident,' responded Roxanne, rather drily. For

the moment, the two girls were as if they were alone, as nobody

seemed to be paying any attention to them. 'He deliberately stepped

into your path.'

Another leap in her chest, as when she had bumped into Pierce, only

this one was much stronger. As her violet eyes swivelled sharply to

her friend, she thought the sensation wasn't at all pleasant. 'Are—you

sure?'

'Everybody noticed,' whispered Roxanne, while she appeared to be

staring interestedly into the dark lapping waters. 'Jeffrey was so

jealous, he nearly turned bright green right in front of our eyes.'

That brought even more disconcertment to her, and she stared at

Roxanne for some moments before saying softly, 'You know that

he's— he's--'

'Infatuated with you, yes. He's certainly made no secret of it,' said the

brunette, suddenly acid. 'That was why he invited us, didn't you

realise?'

She' blinked. She wanted to say that she'd hoped Roxanne hadn't, but

as there was no point in being so bluntly honest, especially with the

possibility that they might be overheard, she merely shrugged it off.

Her patent unconcern for Jeffrey's affections made the brunette relax

after a moment, and even regret her acidic tone. Just because Jeffrey

was infatuated with Caprice, didn't mean that Caprice returned the

compliment. Half the men at the party tonight were infatuated with

the blonde, and the other half were clearly indulgent. Roxanne's

irritation melted away.

Caprice glanced at her friend, saw the return of good humour in the

other girl's expression, and was pleased. She hated it when other

people were angry at her, especially when the cause for their anger

wasn't her fault. She tossed off the last bit of wine in her glass,