Now what was she to do? She would look strange without her mask, since all the other women were wearing theirs. After looking all around the room, she still did not see it. How strange. She had no wish to stay in this room all night, and since she was feeling better, she determined to go and find Rutger and ask him if he knew what had happened to her mask.
Jorgen talked with various men as he waited for Rutger to tire of introducing Odette to everyone at the ball. When she began dancing with a young man, he tried not to feel jealous or wonder if she found him handsome or interesting. Her uncle probably wanted her to dance with someone—anyone—besides Jorgen.
After dancing with the man, Odette joined Rutger and walked over to the table set up at the end of the room with drinks and food.
“Jorgen, are you enjoying yourself?” The margrave stood beside him, leaning on his cane.
“Yes, of course, Lord Thornbeck.”
The margrave frowned, with scowling brows and hardened jaw. Was that what he had looked like in battle when he was a knight and the captain of the guard? “I cannot say the same,” he growled.
“You do not enjoy the music, my lord?”
“I just don’t like smiling and listening to everyone say how delighted they are with everything. People at parties are insincere, and we all just stand around talking.”
Jorgen couldn’t help smiling. “I understand that sentiment, my lord.”
“Fighting men say whatever they want, and it is never anything about being delighted.” He shifted his weight a bit and tapped his stick on the floor. “I came over here to ask if you would accompany us on a hunt tomorrow afternoon. At least that will give us something to do, and no one can go on and on about how delighted they are. They will be too busy chasing a stag or hind.”
Jorgen suppressed another smile and nodded. “Yes, my lord.” But then his heart sank at the possibility that they might not be able to find a deer to chase. The mysterious night poacher had killed so many that they were becoming harder to find. Such a thing would not sit well with the margrave, especially in the mood he was in.
“You should dance, Jorgen. You are young and able.” A flash of sorrow seemed to cross his face, then disappear. “I believe that beautiful white swan wishes to dance with you.”
Jorgen turned to his left to see whom the margrave was speaking of, and Odette was coming toward him, her white feathers swaying with her movements. As she drew near, the margrave was drawn away by his chancellor, and Jorgen focused all his attention on her.
“Shall we dance?” he asked.
She reached out and grasped his hand in answer, and he led her to the middle of the ballroom where another dance was about to begin.
She held on to his hand and caressed his arm. Was she trying to tell him that she did not regret their kiss?
They faced each other just as the dance began. They stepped toward each other—and she stepped quite close, lifting her face to his, making him wonder if she would kiss him right there in front of everyone.
His heart beat hard at the way her lips curved seductively. What was she trying to do to him? He had never seen her so . . . uninhibited. She almost seemed like a different person. Was it because of his kiss? What else could it be?
As she turned all the way around in the steps of the dance, her hips swayed—something he should not be noticing. All through the dance she continued to get closer to him than was necessary, hold his hand longer than normal, and behave in a way that made his heart beat faster.
When the dance was over, Odette clasped his hands between hers and leaned against him.
“Odette,” he whispered. “I . . . I do not know if you should let your uncle see you like this.”
She stared up at him, as if she was hanging on his next word.
He swallowed. “Do you want to walk out to the balcony again?”
She nodded and hugged his arm against her side.
Perhaps Odette felt his kiss was a proposal of marriage. But of course a maiden like her would not let him kiss her if she wasn’t willing to marry him. His heart pounded harder as they moved toward the doorway to the gallery and slipped into the darker, deserted room.
As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Odette turned to him and kissed him. The kiss was over before he could respond, and she turned around and ran toward the balcony, holding up her skirt as she went.
He followed after her. He had never seen this side of her, and it felt strange. Had Odette been drinking too much wine? Even her hair looked slightly different, less full and less wavy. But it must be Odette, since she was wearing the same swan mask and headdress.