Thomas stood in theballroom with his back to the wall, scowling across the dance floor,not wanting to meet anyone's gaze or make polite conversation as heknew was expected of him. The dancing did not thrill him tonight,too many smiling couples twirling around the room, in their finery tothe upbeat music. This was one of Thomas' favourite ways to spend anevening, but not this evening, perhaps never again.

He sighed as he liftedhis glass to take a sip of the strong wine, intending to drown outthe pain of his sister's death, but the glass remained midway to hislips as a couple breezed past him. The lady's forget-me-not bluedress floating around her as if she was clothed in smoke, furlingaround her. Sometimes the dress appeared to be swallowing herwithin it's folds, but on occasion fading into the background toallow her to shine through. Her dress matched her deep azure eyesthat sparkled with laughter as her face came into Thomas' view butwas quickly whisked away by her partner.

Thomas stared at herback as they made their way across the dance floor, swirling throughthe gathering of dancers. The couple followed the ebbing currents ofthe crowd and yet somehow always remaining as the central focus, asif in a spotlight. Thomas realised this was partly because the ladywas completely out of sync with the music, she looked happy and wasmoving confidently, but not in time to the music. 'If she weremine,' he mused to himself, 'I would teach her to dance.'

He was lost in a daydream, imagining a world where he was dancingwith this mystery lady, they would fall in love, be married, therewould be children. He would finally become a world-renowned poet,his work recognised and praised. His family would be cared for, hewould have the life he always wanted, it would all start with thislady he had not yet had the pleasure of meeting. He smiled ruefully,'I have a lot of dreams', he thought, 'and most of them areabout women.'

He realised his arm wasstill hovering half way to his face with his glass remaining full, heshot a furtive glance around the room, to check no-one in thevicinity had noticed his momentary lapse in concentration. He sunkback his wine, hailed a passing butler with a tray of empty glassesto offload his own, headed for the French doors and beckoning coolevening air. Once outside he skirted around the other guestsenjoying the fresh air, maintaining a distance to stay unnoticed bythem, not wanting the company tonight. He left the tiled patio infavour of the gravel path and anonymous shelter of the immaculatelypruned hedges. He was not intending to stray so far from the partyand certainly did not wish to appear rude to his host, but he couldnot resist the solitude of this quiet corner of the garden.

Thomas pushed open thedoor leading into the walled garden, stepped inside and closed thedoor behind him, breathing a sigh of relief to have a physicalbarrier between himself and the world outside. He admired thebeautifully landscaped surroundings, the perfectly clipped shrubbery,the array of flowers, fountains and ivy growing wild over the walls. In perfect contrast to the order and perfection to the flowers andshrubs in the garden, the ivy snaked over the walls at will, unruly,untameable. He lowered himself onto a bench, noticing the rose bedsstill just distinguishable in the falling dusk, he was entranced bythe flowers swaying in the breeze and the babbling of a nearbyfountain.

Thomas' attentionsnapped back into focus at the sound of light footsteps on the gravelapproaching him, he picked at a loose thread in his shirtsleeve andsighed. He was in no mood for company and did not wish to justifyhis presence in this deserted part of the garden, when he was clearlyexpected to be at the house.

He raised his eyesdefiantly, ready to argue his position when he caught sight of thatforget-me-not dress meandering slowly towards him. The ladyseemingly distracted, stopping occasionally to reach out delicatelyto touch the flower heads. Thomas stood quickly, immediately wishinghe hadn't been so hasty as he felt light-headed, he cleared histhroat to announce his presence.

"Oh," the ladystopped in her tracks, retracting her arm sharply back to her side insurprise, "Begging your pardon, good sir, I did not realise therewas anyone else here." She stepped forward, smiling shyly atThomas, with a knowing warmth as though they were already firmfriends, sharing a secret, both caught somewhere they shouldn't be. "I had grown weary of dancing and wished to partake in a quietwalk, I was not aware this garden was already occupied."

Thomas, the poet, theman of many beautiful and coherent words, was struck dumb. Not justby her physical beauty, but her ease of manner, her wit, the way sheseemed to be challenging him, daring him to enquire further.

"I confess I alsowished for peace away from the party...however pleasant it may be." He added quickly, not knowing who this lady was and not wishing tocause offense. Thomas assumed she was someone of importance, the wayshe captivated the ballroom. She held Thomas in awe and he believedeveryone else must surely see the brilliant light emanating fromwithin her. He was quick to continue, in case she changed her mindand left him alone again in the garden. "I would certainly notobject to sharing this beautiful garden with you awhile, my lady."

She smiled warmly, asmile that reached her eyes and, for Thomas, lit up the walled gardenbrighter than a thousand candles could have illuminated the ballroom. "It seems we have a common purpose, sir, would you walk with meawhile so that we may enjoy this garden - and it's peace - together?"

Thomas stepped forwardproudly, holding out his arm for her, which she took and relaxed intohim as they fell into step. "I noticed you dancing earlier mylady, you looked content, although I must confess I did not rate yourdance partner." He attempted to keep his tone light but suddenlyfound he had many pressing issues to discuss and important questionsto ask, impatient but bound by rules of society, he held his tongueagainst a further barrage for fear of scaring her away.

"Sir, you are veryobservant," was she laughing at him? At his impudence? "I washappy for a time, my partner was attempting to teach me to dance butI fear it is a skill I simply cannot master. The awkward display ofour dancing was, I must admit, entirely my own doing."

Thomas found himselfsmiling fully, mimicking her expression, he dropped his gaze to theground to hide his amusement and awkwardness. When she turned tohim, he lifted his head and spoke seriously. "My lady I believeeveryone should know how to dance, especially - and please forgive myrudeness - a lady as beautiful as you." She laughed and squeezedhis arm affectionately, "well sir if that is indeed your opinion,won't you kindly rectify this situation for me?" She came to ahalt, "teach me how to dance in the manner you believe a ladyshould be able to."

Thomas stoppedalongside her, caught unaware, he was not expecting this exchange toproceed so well, or for the conversation to be so forward. "Mylady, I was merely suggesting...I do not claim to be an expert myselfand would hate to disappoint."

"Nonsense," shestepped in front of him and gazed into his face fully for the firsttime, noticing how his deep expressive mahogany eyes matched histousled hair. "I am a complete amateur," she insisted, "anythingyou could teach me would be an improvement on the little I alreadyknow."

Thomas gingerly reachedfor her outstretched hand as they assumed the position, he offeredtips on form and movement as they slowly began to dance in a circleon the path. "Most importantly, my lady," his voice almost awhisper now as they leaned their heads towards one another in anatural stance. "The thing that is of the utmost importance whiledancing, is to enjoy one's self." He beamed at her, delighted bythe way she was responding to his movements, more than those of herprevious dance partner. It felt natural, right, dancing with such abeautiful lady here in this perfect garden. This was Thomas' dream.

"It would seem thatdancing is easier when one has a partner whom one genuinely enjoysdancing with," she retorted, her cheeks flushed from the chill ofthe night and the excitement of the dance, laughter sparkling in hereyes. They shuffled and twirled in the gathering gloom, neither ofthem noticing the darkness drawing in around them. They movedsubtly closer together throughout the dance, their steps naturally intune with one another and gradually quickening. The lady released alaugh that seemed to echo around the walls of the garden andreverberate inside Thomas' head, the stars twinkling down on themfrom lofty heights, observing this age-old play unfold below. Thecouple were perfectly content in each other's company and could havedanced the night away in their corner of the garden. Had fate notintervened, as is it's want, so often in these situations, in it'sattempt to cast asunder this pairing that could only exist withinthese walls.

"Beth?" came a callfrom somewhere around the gate through which they had both enteredthe garden, they sprang apart as if static had passed between them. The lady looked crestfallen as she dropped her hand from his grasp. "My sister is calling for me...I'm sorry, I must go," shegathered her skirt and threw him another disarming smile as shehastily retreated. "Thank you for the dance kind sir, thanks toyou this has been the most enjoyable party Lord Byron has ever thrownfor me."

Thomas was dumbfounded,rooted to the spot on which he stood as she disappeared into thedarkness, through the gate into a world where the two of them couldseemingly not exist together.

After her footstepshad fallen silent as she slid through the night, out of his reach,the silence in the garden became oppressive. The sudden hushreprimanding him for not saying more to her, stopping her fromleaving, accompanying her. He forced himself to move after a time,slowly following her footsteps on the path leading away from thegarden, back towards the party. His mind was spinning with this newinformation. Byron. This was Byron's ball. He had neglected to askJames who their host was this evening, still lost in his grief at thetime. Byron. Of all the balls in London, he had to be at Byron's.

He made his way backtowards the house, footsteps heavy with regret, mind reliving hisbrief time with Beth...Elizabeth, in the garden. He noticed Jamesout on the patio as he drew close, searching with a worriedexpression, he approached to James' obvious relief. "Where haveyou been?" His cousin scolded, "I realised I had not seen you ina while, hadn't noticed you dancing all night come to think of it." James paused and shot a meaningful sideways glare before continuing. "I thought you must have wandered off somewhere, probably into thegardens, probably alone."

Thomas smiled at hiscousin's concern, correct judgement of his social skills and partyetiquette. "You know me too well, cousin! As it happens I didfeel the need for a moment of peace, I strolled out to the walledgarden, where I was later joined by a delightful lady, with whom Ishared a pleasant dance. Her name was Elizabeth, she informed meByron had thrown this party for her...do you know of her?"

James nodded wisely andtook a moment to answer, "so...you met Elizabeth Winton? Ofall the eligible women here tonight you had to dance with her." Hepaused and looked around to ensure no-one was eavesdropping beforecontinuing. "She's a remarkable woman, intelligent, accomplished,witty. She has it all, no doubt. What you should know about her -she is betrothed to our host this evening, Lord Byron." Jamesslapped Thomas sympathetically on the back, "forget her Thomas,she's as good as married."