Beyond the Ballroom

The rooftop of the Rosewood hotel was alive with activity. It was the evening of the most anticipated outdoor ball of the season, held by the Duke and Duchess of Richmond. Delicate white roses climbed the glass balustrades, their thorns interwoven with twinkling blue and lavender fairy lights. A string quartet stood in the corner near the bar, the musicians playing classical renditions of pop ballads. The guest list was comprised of nobles dressed in sleek black tuxedos and elegant silk gowns.Standing against one of the glass balustrades, Miss Cassandra Harrington couldn't breathe. It wasn't because of the built-in corset that hugged her curves from the inside of her powder blue silk gown, nor was it because of the occasional ring of cigarette smoke that curled around her head like a halo. It was due to the heavy cologne of spice that clung to the gentleman who stood only a few inches away from her. She allowed her eyes to travel up to the skyline of London, watching as the last beams of sunset stretched across the horizon. She took a breath—or as deep of one as she could manage—her gloved fingertips tightening around the stem of her glass of rosé.Thomas smirked flirtatiously, his eyes bright. "Please, my dear, just one waltz? Other young ladies have danced with me this evening, why not you?"Cassandra glanced at him, her mask of politeness slowly beginning to slip toward annoyance. This wasn't the first time Lord Thomas Dalton had asked for a waltz with her. In fact, it was the third. The first two times, she had politely declined. Now, however, she was ready to simply slap him and tell him to get lost. She took a breath, keeping her composure. "My Lord, I've told you, I am not in the mood to dance."Thomas rolled his eyes before taking her left hand, his grip firm, bordering on painful. "Please, Miss Harrington, you can't refuse me. I am one of London's finest bachelors, not to mention the wealthiest. I can name five young ladies here, on this very rooftop, that would flock to be my wife and my dance partner."Cassandra laughed without a trace of humor. "My Lord, if you believe that you can find yourself a wife by the end of the evening, congratulations, you've outdone yourself."Thomas gripped her hand a bit tighter. His earlier flirtation was gone, replaced by a cold resolution. He closed the small gap between them, his breath smelling of whiskey. "Miss Harrington, I'll ask you again. I'd like to waltz with you."Cassandra shook her head, her eyes flashing with anger. "Lord Dalton, I've been patient far too long, so I'll tell you directly: I'm not in the mood to dance with you—not now, not ever."Thomas glared at her. "I'll make sure that you dance with me before the night is through. Otherwise, I'll..."A rich baritone voice cut him off, the words ice-cold and filled with finality. "She said no. Now, I suggest you release her before things get ugly."Cassandra looked behind Thomas, locking eyes with the most handsome gentleman she had seen all evening. He was tall, with swept-back dark brown hair, emerald green eyes, and chiseled cheekbones. His face looked like that of a Greek god. Her eyes traveled across his muscular body, drinking in his broad shoulders, every aspect of him outlined perfectly in his black velvet tuxedo. He was a masterpiece.Thomas turned, his eyes widening a fraction with surprise before his expression became amused. He released Cassandra, taking a step back. "Well, if it isn't Viscount Hartfield. Enjoying your evening so far?"Lord Leo Hartfield stepped closer, his eyes blazing like emerald fire. His voice dropped an octave, but could still be heard over the quartet. "I suggest you step away from this young lady and return to whatever the hell you were doing before you invaded her space."Thomas opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, finally at a loss for words. Realizing that he wouldn't be able to get a word in, he turned and walked away without a backward glance. For once in his life, he didn't get what he wanted.Leo turned his attention to Cassandra, his breath catching. She was the most exquisite woman he had seen the entire night. She was slender and elegant, with caramel brown hair fixed into a side bun with curls along her left shoulder, brilliant blue eyes, and flawless skin. He cleared his throat. "Are you all right?"Cassandra smiled, her body relaxing slightly. "I'm fine, thank you. I was beginning to fear that no one would see the situation I was in."Leo sighed. "Lord Dalton is a man of great appetite."Cassandra took a sip from her wine glass, rolling her eyes. "Not to mention he is the most arrogant gentleman London has to offer."Leo chuckled, the sound deep and warm. "He certainly is, isn't he?"Cassandra giggled. "Indeed he is. He believes he can get whatever he desires by demanding, not asking. It's ridiculous."Leo nodded. "I agree."They looked at each other, momentarily forgetting where they were. It seemed as if the rooftop ball, the music, the guests, and Lord Thomas Dalton disappeared around them. Their eyes seemed to communicate hundreds of secret messages that no texting field could ever put together. After a moment, they turned their attention to the skyline, which was now navy blue and sprinkled with silver stars.Leo cleared his throat, glancing at her. "May I have your name?"Cassandra met his eyes, a smile curving her lips. "Do you believe you deserve to know my name?"Leo's eyes glittered with mischief. "If I remember correctly, I did just save your life not two minutes ago. So, I think it's only fair."Cassandra burst out laughing, the sound melodic and sweet. "All right, I was only teasing. I'm Cassandra Harrington. Cassie for short."Leo smiled, taking her hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Cassie Harrington. I'm Viscount Leopold Hartfield. Leo for short."Cassandra smiled. "A pleasure to meet you as well."They laughed at the absurdity of their formal introductions as they maneuvered through the crowd and toward the bar. Cassandra replenished her glass of rosé and Leo ordered an Old Fashioned. After getting their drinks and a plate of sliders and french fries to share, they found themselves seated at a table by a pillar wrapped in blue fairy lights. They chatted for what seemed like ages, discovering quite a few things in common: a love of literature, fine art, horseback riding, afternoon tea, and orange chicken and chow mein. They exchanged smiles and flirtatious glances, soon exchanging phone numbers and Instagram handles.After about an hour, Leo stood from the table, offering his hand. "The quartet is about to play a waltz. Would you do me the honor?"Cassandra smiled, placing her hand into his without any hesitation. "I'd be honored to waltz with you."Fingers intertwined, they walked onto the dance floor. As the music swirled around them, the world seemed to fade away. They turned slowly, their eyes locked in a magnetic gaze, neither one able—or willing—to break contact. In that moment, beneath the soft glow of the twinkling fairy lights, they knew that night was the start of something beautiful.