Lovescape

Chapter 5-1

Dusk was falling by the time Rosalind’s shift turning the spit ended. It would be time to eat soon, and the roasted chickens and pigs smelled delicious. Perhaps tonight, I’ll be able to work up enough appetite to eat well.

Perhaps tonight, I’ll be able to work up enough appetite to eat well.As always, she scanned the crowd for Vidal. Though there were many taller men than him about, and though he always dressed conservatively in a black suit, he was easy to see. He had an air of quiet authority that made him seem quite the most impressive figure at the gathering.

She quickly located him off to one side, talking to the musicians. Should I approach him, just to offer a greeting? No, I’ll wait. I want to savor my fantasies a little longer.

Should I approach him, just to offer a greeting? No, I’ll wait. I want to savor my fantasies a little longer.She wondered what she should do. There were any number of conversations she could join, but the thought of interacting with her nosy peers didn’t interest her much. The dancing won’t take place until after dinner, but apart from my one promised dance with Vidal, that doesn’t sound amusing either.

The dancing won’t take place until after dinner, but apart from my one promised dance with Vidal, that doesn’t sound amusing either.A bell rang, and Rosalind jumped. Dinner time! Trying to slow her pounding heart, she moved toward the mass of people forming an endless-seeming queue around the tables. It would take a long time for this crowd to collect their dinner.

Dinner time!After an eternity, Rosalind worked her way over to the rough-hewn pine table where Claudia and her husband Blas sat.

Blas looked askance at the scant selections on Rosalind’s plate. “Is that all you plan to eat, niña?” he asked.

“I’m not very hungry,” she told him softly.

“You’ll blow away in the wind if you don’t eat something soon!” Blas bellowed, drawing glances from the other tables.

“Blas, let the poor girl be,” Claudia said, shoving her husband’s shoulder. “You know how hard it is to eat when one is in love.”

“Shhh!” Rosalind hissed. “Don’t talk about it.”

“In love?” Blas asked with interest. “Who’s the lucky man?”

Rosalind’s face burned and she looked down at her plate.

Claudia whispered into her husband’s ear.

He raised his bushy eyebrows, the hairiest part of him since his head was completely bald. Then he smiled lewdly and said, “Well starving yourself to death isn’t likely to make him want you more.”

That thought hit so close to home that Rosalind had to fight down tears, “I know,” she said, her voice wavering.

Claudia hit her husband’s arm. “Stop it!” she hissed. “Never mind him, niña. He has no brains.”

A harsh look from his wife cut off Señor Gongora’s attempt to protest.

Rosalind stabbed viciously at the slice of chicken on her plate, cutting off a piece and thrusting it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, hoping that she would be able to swallow, her mind spinning everywhere at once. Then her eyes alighted on Vidal where he sat at the next table, surrounded by several local girls. Many of them were young and pretty, and all were single.

With all that selection, I don’t stand a chance.

With all that selection, I don’t stand a chanceHe seemed to be engaged in animated conversation with an elderly matron seated nearby, and his entourage giggled and simpered. It’s disgusting the way they moon over him. Of course, I’m no better. She sighed, pushing her food morosely around the plate once again.

It’s disgusting the way they moon over him. Of course, I’m no better. Claudia placed her hand over Rosalind’s, stopping her motion. “Por favor, niña. You have to eat something.”

Rosalind forced her eyes away from the smooth planes of Vidal’s back and focused on her dinner, making herself eat as much of it as she could. Weeks of deprivation left her stuffed in no time, and the food, which had smelled so delicious while cooking, tasted like dust. Without Vidal, what’s the point? She was being maudlin, and she knew it, but parties always put her in this kind of mood. She felt powerfully alone. It’s depressing to be surrounded by so many people; most of whom know nothing about me and will never care to know.

Without Vidal, what’s the point?It’s depressing to be surrounded by so many people; most of whom know nothing about me and will never care to know.She turned to meet the eyes of her companions and found both of them observing her with concerned expressions on their faces. I’m being unfair to them. They’re wonderful people and don’t deserve to have their party spoiled by my sadness. Fixing a pleasant expression on her face, she set out, with much success, to engage Señor Gongora in conversation about his inn, a subject he loved above all others save his lovely wife, and the dinner passed more pleasantly.

I’m being unfair to them. They’re wonderful people and don’t deserve to have their party spoiled by my sadness.If they noticed her abrupt change in attitude, they didn’t mention it.

It rather surprised Rosalind to realize that when she decided to act like she was enjoying herself, real enjoyment soon followed.

“Dessert!” Claudia announced, pushing a plate of cake toward Rosalind. “This is the kind you like, right?”

Rosalind licked her lips at the sight of the sweet, spongy bizcocho. A scent of lemon wafted to her nose, and she grabbed her fork and stabbed at it, closing her eyes as the flavors burst on her tongue.

Half the slice was gone before she pushed the plate away, groaning. She opened her eyes to see Claudia and Blas beaming. See, silly? They only want you to be happy, and you can be if you try. Now that supper is over, it will be time for dancing, and when you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, you enjoy the folk dances as much as the next person… I wonder which dance Vidal will claim… if he remembers.

See, silly? They only want you to be happy, and you can be if you try. Now that supper is over, it will be time for dancing, and when you’re not feeling sorry for yourself, you enjoy the folk dances as much as the next person… I wonder which dance Vidal will claim… if he remembers.The musicians struck a chord, and the crowd assembled into dance forms. Rosalind joined in with more enthusiasm than skill. Thankfully, the other dancers, sympathetic to her lack of experience, made no comments when she missed steps. Keeping up with locals who had known these dances since they were children required all her concentration, which kept her from brooding.

After several dances, Rosalind collapsed, flushed and breathless, on a bench at the side of the clearing. Several of the best dancers assembled to perform a flamenco of exquisite skill.

The scene was horrifyingly familiar. The dance had been the last joyous event at the previous year’s festival before Esteban burst in and took Carmen away. This year, they danced with even more frantic energy.

.Snapping their crimson skirts, the ladies stomped their feet. They twisted and turned, their hands fluttering in the air. Rosalind gawked, awed, as always, by the Flamenco dancers. I can dance, but the difficult steps of the Flamenco are beyond me. Some say only those with Gitano blood can do it right.

I can dance, but the difficult steps of the Flamenco are beyond me. Some say only those with Gitano blood can do it right.The dance ended with a flourish, and the spectators applauded.

Rosalind bounced up from her seat, prepared for the next round of reveling. Then, the guitar player announced, “The next dance will be a waltz, a waltz for lovers only. Caballeros, find your favorite ladies.”

Rosalind smiled sadly, turning back toward her seat. Looks like I’ll be sitting this one out too.

Looks like I’ll be sitting this one out tooWithout warning, a warm hand closed on her arm, and a familiar voice murmured softly in her ear, “Lovely lady, dance with me.”

She whirled around and found herself looking directly into Vidal’s beautiful. dark eyes. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

“I can’t dance this one with you, Vidal. The man said…” she began.

Vidal interrupted. “I know what he said, querida. It was my idea. I asked him to do this so I could dance with you.” Then he led her towards the center of the waltzing couples.

Rosalind moved woodenly, struck dumb with amazement.

When he held out his arms, she stepped into position by rote. She had been trained to waltz years ago, though she rarely used that training anymore. It was fortunate the steps came naturally to her, for she could not muster up the slightest attention to her feet.

A ripple went through the crowd as they realized who the master had chosen as his partner.

In the whirl of faces, Claudia’s came into focus. She and Blas clung to each other, slowly performing the steps, and she gave Rosalind a long look, then winked wickedly.

Rosalind smiled and turned her attention back to Vidal. Their eyes met, and a strange sizzle rippled through every nerve, every fiber of her body.

“You look wonderful tonight,” he told her, his voice low and enticing.

She shivered. “So do you.”

He moved his hand in hers, as though adjusting his position, but instead of the loose contact prescribed by the dance, he laced his fingers through hers. It was a tiny intimacy, but a delicious one. He drew her closer. Her breasts occasionally brushed against the front of his shirt.

He leaned in and scarcely breathed into her ear, “You feel so good in my arms.”

“Yes. This is where I most want to be.” The words escaped against her will, but she could not bring herself to regret them.

“Ay, Rosalinda, do you know what you do to me?”

She shook her head, not comprehending the question.

“You make me want you. I have never stopped wanting you since…”

“Since that night,” she finished for him. “I feel the same way.”

“I have to kiss you.” At his passionate words, a thrill shot through her belly.

“When?”

“After this, I’m going to dance one more. Once it’s finished, meet me just past the tree line, behind the main table.”

She nodded slowly, and he leaned close, as though to whisper in her ear again. She turned her face, and he nuzzled her cheek.

Rosalind closed her eyes. Surely this is a dream. Lord knows I have enough of them. He couldn’t really have changed this much in one night, could he? She thought of the proposition he had made a moment ago. It would be heaven to kiss him again. If this is a dream, I hope it’s not the kind where between this moment and the one to come, everything will conspire to prevent us from meeting.

Surely this is a dreamLord knows I have enough of them. He couldn’t really have changed this much in one night, could heIt would be heaven to kiss him again. If this is a dream, I hope it’s not the kind where between this moment and the one to come, everything will conspire to prevent us from meeting.Their gazes locked, driving her silly, chattering thoughts to silence.