Though the glance Miss Schuyler shoot at him was fleeting, Alexander made sure it met his for that second, no matter how quick it passed. His lips were still slightly curved upwards, and this time he made no attempt of looking away, instead studying the young woman’s profile with the awe yet respect with which he would’ve studied any masterpiece.
Even though he had decided to approach a Schuyler for no other reason than their high social status and their delicate beauty, the brief conversation with the eldest of Phillip’s daughters was starting to cast shadows on those thoughts, already making him feel the attraction towards the dark-haired woman was getting less superficial. In fact, with each second that went by, each movement of those rosy lips, Alexander grew more and more intrigued by her mind, more eager to try and know everything she thought of.
“On the contrary, Miss Schuyler, I don’t think you would be able to ruin my night,” he started, eyes still locked on her face. “You’re like me, in that regard — I’m never satisfied with just doing what most people would expect from me.” If by straightening up his posture he managed to somehow step in just a bit closer, it was a mere coincidence that no one could prove. “So you can imagine, my lady, the only path to a ruined night would be for me to leave your side right now. I am just thus wholeheartedly hoping I can spark at least a faint, similar feeling in yourself — then, I would be happy.”
An unexpected thing happened the second Angelica’s gaze met the stranger’s: a buzzing feeling inside of her, as if electricity had just touched her from her head to her toes. It surprised her, for she had never felt such a thing before. However, she remained composed, as if nothing had changed inside of her; as if his intense stare hadn’t affected her, as if he hadn’t just conquered her curiosity.
She let him talk, attentive brown eyes still avoiding him and instead focusing on the waltz currently being danced around the ballroom. Angelica was certainly surprised by his persistence; most men would have given up by now, feeling defeated by her apparent desinterest. Although his speech was a bit theatrical, she didn’t feel displeased. On the contrary, his eloquence was pleasant to the ear, and the fact he had compared himself to her (therefore not showing intimidation by her position nor placing himself above her just because of his born condition of being a man) was most agreeable.
“Is that right?” The eldest Schuyler suddenly asked, after a few moments of silence between the two of them. She turned his way, now granting him her full attention; at least for the time being. “That you are like me? Because many men would surely say the same to remain in my company and I don’t appreciate being lied to.”
